December 13, 2009 in Uncategorized
My body is squishy.
Squish, squish went the jelly on Penny’s backside.
Jiggle, Jiggle went the blub on Penny’s thighs.
(I’ve got lots of those, but I’ll spare you.)
Ok, I realize that I’m not overweight. I’m not. I am in my healthy weight range for my height and age. (Even though I’m on the high end.)
But I just had a baby 4 months ago. And I’m in awful shape becaues of it.
So, I’m squishy.
(Just look at my angels. So worth it.)
Let me tell you something; there is a wholelotta (hick word) difference between having one baby and having two babies. What is the difference you ask? I’ll tell you. My body is officially deformed for life. I can just tell. There are things that will not be the same ever again.
Do you know what happens to a woman’s stomach after she has had a c-section? It ain’t pretty folks. Do you know what happens to the same woman’s stomach after TWO c-sections? It’s really quite scary. I’m talking cover-your-kids-eyes-and-turn-the-channel scary.
I am 6 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight and my old jeans still don’t fit. Only 6 pounds. Yes, deformed.
After one baby, body parts pretty much settle back into place.
After two? Oh geez. It’s sad.
Now lets talk about every man’s favorite subject. Boobs.
My boobs just really piss me off. They really do. I lose weight. They grow. I lose more weight. They freaking grow. I get pregnant. Dear God, do they grow. I lose more weight. They grow. I get pregnant again. And Holy Crap they grow!
Now, guess what happens to a woman that has been pregnant twice, breastfed two babies with already freak-size boobs that KEEP growing? They begin to migrate for the winter. And winter lasts forever.
My boobs are very mean to me.
Breast-reduction is most likely on the agenda for 2010. Thank you, dear insurance company, for paying for such a procedure. You’re on my Christmas card list.
Actually, you’re not, because your coverage sucks.
So, anyway, what is a squishy girl to do when the scale stops moving because dieting alone no longer works. She decides that after a year of pregnancy, c-section recovery, and infant care, she needs to get off the couch and into the gym.
So that’s what a certain squishy girl did today.
And she REALLY didn’t want to.
I officially stop, right this moment, referring to myself in the third person.
Carry on, BlondeBibliophile……
I got up knowing that today was the day. The gym trip was going to happen. I was totally excited. I was pumped. I told the Hub to be prepared for my long absence, because I was going to workout for an hour. Maybe more.
I got everything ready.
I went to the store for proper work-out supplies.
I bought a pretty new gym bag.
I got a new pair of workout pants. (Because my old ones are STILL too tight, and my butt looked mega squishy in them.)
And then I was off to the gym.
I got there.
I signed up.
I changed my clothes and put them in my shiny new bag, and then in a locker.
I locked everything up with my new, pretty, purple lock.
And then out to the weight room I went.
I looked at the machines and thought……. “Shit.”
The voices told me to go home.
I told the voices I couldn’t go home. I bought a new bag. I had to workout.
The voices understood.
I picked the treadmill first. I started out slow. It was nice.
Then I thought, “I’m here to get in shape and lose weight. Nice isn’t gonna cut it.”
So I increased the speed and upped the incline just a tad.
I got off 10 minutes later.
My legs were a little wobbly, but in a good way. “That wasn’t so bad,” I thought. “Nice warm-up.”
Then I got on a stationary bike that was apparently designed to be a New Age torture device. I got off after 2 minutes.
I do not like torture. Dumb-ass bike. I moved on.
I then got on the machine that was the primary reason for the gym membership.
A big, funky elliptical machine.
Funny thing about these machines is that it is hard to go at a SLOW pace. You get moving, and it’s like a car rolling down a hill; you can’t control it.
Another funny thing about these machines is that they are what I envision Hell to be like.
I made myself stay on for a whole 5 minutes.
The entire time I thought about how stupid I was for spending my valuable and rare alone time away from baby on this big, piece-of-crap machinery that was going to make me fall down and die.
Then I was done. The gym was closing.
I may have used the excuse that they were closing in 20 minutes and I needed that long to change my clothes. Or I may have been on the verge of collapsing because I felt like a limp, hot noodle.
And then a funny thing happened as I left.
I was TOTALLY proud of myself for making the effort.
So I’ll definitely be going back. (It’s not like I have a choice in the matter. I bought the stupid gym bag. It must be used.)
All goofiness aside, I can’t wait to get in better shape. This last pregnancy was hell on my body, and I’ve never been in worse physical condition. So help me, I’m going to fix that.
One more reason I am going to the gym…..
That poor man has the awful job of seeing me naked.
Ain’t he purty?
THEN, I did a little Christmas shopping. I love Christmas shopping. I also love wrapping presents. It’s totally fun. And I love giving presents.
If I were filthy rich, I would buy presents for EVERYBODY. And I would wrap them. I LOVE it.
As I was checking out (that’s the painful part), I saw these little devils in the check out line.
I have wanted to try them FOREVER.
So I got them. Hey, I worked out. It’s alright.
I got home and tasted one.
Sweet Mother Mary. I have no words. Just a picture to describe its wonderfulness.
I only had one.
But I wanted more.
These bad boys are 2 WW points each!!
Some people would say they are too high point and not worth it.
Those people are stupid.
On the vegetarian front…….
things are going so great!!! I love it! It’s not difficult for me at all. I really, really love it.
Know what else I love?
Hello beautiful, you will be cooked soon.
For a very magical combination, put this good stuff on your lentils.
Do you know what is the EXACT equivalent to eating lentils several times a day???
No?? You don’t know?
I’ll tell you.
Hmmm, that’s gross. Sorry. The truth can be ugly.
What to see one MORE thing that I love?
Baby feet. I really love baby feet.
And I love my dogs paws to a ridiculous degree, but I have no picture of those.
Guess I was feeling peppy tonight. That was one goofy post.
I promise I will be back with a new recipe soon.
Until next time……….