Postpartum Progress, Not Perfection

First of all...is it "postpartum" or "post pregnancy?" I can't decide. So we'll go with postpartum because that's what they say in the hospital, even though it's been seven months since I was in the hospital. Seven months! I can't believe my daughter is on the downhill slide to being one year old.

Speaking of daughters. A good friend of mine gave birth to hers this morning. What little details I've gotten so far remind me so much of my own labor and delivery that I've been thinking about it all day. This, of course, as I cuddle and coo with Hannah Banana.

SEVEN MONTHS, people!
Where's the "pause" button when you need it most?
She's getting too big.

Not so big anymore: My belly. Now, before you think I'm bragging, let me be clear with you that I'm not. I've been working really hard to get back into my pre-pregnancy shape. Or at least something similar to it, and I think I'm getting there. How much do I weigh? What are my measurements? I have no idea, really. But what I do know is that I'm back into the same dress size that I was in before Hannah.

Does that mean my body is perfect? No. It never was. Does that mean I'm the same as I was before pregnancy? No. I won't have that body ever again, I'm sure. What it means is that I've made progress.

Strive for progress, always and forever. Perfection? It's overrated. (Does it even exist?)

Question: Do you follow me on Pinterest yet?