Despite having toned up a bit and taken my abs from the post-birth loose sack of potatoes stage into something that resembles normal muscle, there's still quite a bit of...well, let's call it "insulation" still keeping me wrapped up like a cocktail wiener in a crescent roll. I made the mistake of trying on a few of my old dresses for our anniversary dinner. Shall I list for you the problems with this plan?
1) inexplicable arm fat. When did my arms get fat!?
2) HUGE massive baby-feeding boobies. I'm telling you: big boobs are overrated.
3) The ignominious side boob/armpit fat. (which you don't notice when everything else is bigger, too!)
4) the Mummy Tummy.
Though the others are way more insidious and sneaky, the Mummy Tummy is the killer for me. This giant tyre of fat sneaks its way around your waist and refuses to budge. Now, I've never had brilliant abs, but I know there's good muscle hiding underneath of all my excess baby weight.
|via: parenting starts here|
Oh yeah, people: when you decide to grow a tiny human in your uterus, people find every opportunity to tell you that you're entitled to the extra calories. You need to grow the baby; you need to keep up your energy; you need to breastfeed. It seems to me, right now, that I have plenty of extra calories just sitting around idly on my midriff just begging to be metabolised into tasty baby milk or the energy to go on a 3-mile run.
So my new plan? 4-5 days a week of gym time, longer walks with the pushchair, and keeping track of what I eat during the day. Not a real diet (I have an irrational distaste for the word), but just a few simple changes that I ought to make anyway:
1) drink more water. I'm probably thirsty more often than I'm hungry.
2) have smaller portion sizes. I can definitely be satisfied on less than I'm eating per meal.
3) eat healthy snacks. Stuff like apples and Greek style yoghurt and whatnot that are tasty, but not a waste of calories, like the fun-sized chocolate bars we habitually pair with our lunches.
After all, I don't have a StairMaster just a 5-minute run away anymore, and the Pit can't keep me stocked up on salad supplies without the worry that things will go off before I get the chance to eat them. Nonetheless, I'm getting back in shape. I intend to have a long time where I actually fit all the clothes in my wardrobe before I decide to incubate another tiny human. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a sleeping baby and another 30 minutes in which I can be a BAMF and go get my at-home strength training on.