A big ass sign from above.

I'm pleased to report that since Sweet Pea was born I've dropped 25 of my 45 pregnancy pounds gained. The weight has literally fallen off as I've done nothing since delivery -- other than cut out the daily mocha frappes -- to lose a thing.

I attribute most of this weight loss to my decision to nurse the baby. Everyone told me that breastfeeding does wonders for your metabolism and frankly, in these early weeks, it's the main thing that keeps me going. (The sore boobs and hours spent glued to my recliner watching the big kids trash the house aren't helping the cause.)

If you know me well, you know I've got a bad sweet tooth. I can't go through the day without a cookie or three -- and I sure as hell can't eat at a Culver's without having some custard for dessert...

...which brings me to how God spoke to me the other day.

Seriously. He did.

I didn't hear a thunderous voice from above or see a vision, but He made his presence known. And it knocked me square on my ass. Literally.

Here"s how it went down: Mark and I stopped at Culver's after visiting a local daycare center. We discussed the pros and cons of the center over a couple of burgers, during which I lamented over the need to #1 pay so much for daycare, #2 not be able to become a stay-home mom and #3 schemed over various half-baked, home business ideas that'd enable me to make money while staying home full time.

Seeing how none of these options were remotely feasible, feeling stressed out, I announced that a small turtle sundae would help clear my mind. So I marched up to the counter to order one.

As I turned, sundae in hand to head back to my table, I slipped on the freshly mopped floor and fell squarely on my tail bone. My precious sundae went flying. I never got a bite.

Having cracked my tail bone once in a grade school sledding accident, I immediately knew I'd hurt myself badly. Mark and the manager came running and after an accident report and trip to urgent care, I learned I hadn't broken my tail bone, but had, in fact, seriously bruised it.

And so, I've been hobbling around the house, barely able to bend over or sit down -- all fairly important when caring for a newborn.

The irony of the situation has not been lost on me.

My attempt to eat a delicious, yet horribly unhealthy sundae -- and act that'd surely add a few inches to my backside -- had been thwarted by a most severe blow to said backside.

I see it as sign, or rather a spanking, from God Himself.

Message received.