If I am not in (God's grace) may he put me there, and if I am may he so keep me. ~St. Joan of Arc
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Reclaiming My Life ~ Step One
We did it.
Five times since Wed.
For two hours a day.
In spite of me having a horrendous UTI on Sunday complete with a side order of painfully passed kidney stone.
I was determined-no committed to do it as much as possible this time. For once I refused to be deterred by my health from my goal of doing it more.
And, for the first time since Anna's was born, I am even starting to look forward to it and almost enjoying it. As a matter of fact Rick didn't want to do it yesterday and I was disappointed enough to do it all by myself!
NO! Not THAT! Geesh! The fact that I said Rick didn't want to do it yesterday should have been a clue it wasn't THAT ;)
We joined the YMCA on Wed and have worked out two hours a day ever since. I have yet to see any Biggest Loser level results though, as we also still continued to eat at our normal over consuming rate, but it has to be doing something right? Let's hope.
As I was walking into the locker room to put on my granny-skirted swimsuit, a very pregnant woman was walking out with a shirt on that said "Baby Fat". I told her, "Well I need a shirt like that one, but now that my 'baby' is two, I don't think I can pass it off as postpartum anymore." She laughed politely, and I detected an edge of pity for me, as though she was thinking "No way in HELL I'm lookin' like THAT two years from now!"
It reminded me of a "Baby Fat" post I wrote last year about my determination to get back into shape and reclaim my
"Stacy's Mom" status once more!
A year has passed since that post...
And I'm still the same weight. Still fluctuating. Still tired and worn out at 39.
THIRTY-NINE! For only a few short weeks. Then I will turn....
FORTY.
I weigh 152 pounds. Four years ago when I met my dear husband I weighed...
124 pounds.
When we got married about a year later I weighed .....
134 pounds.
Then when I got pregnant with Anna....
ok, well ....you don't even want to know what that total was.
I wasn't too worried because, even though I started out higher than I wanted to, I put on the same I did with the boys and actually weighed less at delivery than I did with Noah.
So I should be able, two years later, to be the same weight I was after Noah right?
Well, actually I AM. I didn't lose my postpartum weight with Noah until he was two, I started smoking, and I left my then husband/now EX-husband, friend and co parent.
One new husband, baby girl now toddler, Deep Vein Thrombosis, and Toxic Multi-Nodular Goiter later-
The "Lose Weight Fast!- Get a Divorce, Work 44 Hours a Week, While Going to School Full Time, and Chain Smoking" diet is not an option this time.
So WHAT to do?
Introduce Anna to daycare gently, by having her play at the Y-babysitting room a couple hours a day (which by the way she is NOT interpreting as a gentle introduction. More like abandonment. She shrieks at me when I leave like a child in war torn Europe being ripped from it's mother's arms.) She does love the pool though. So I reward her with that when I'm done working out.
I do 25 mins on the elliptical followed by 35 mins on the treadmill. Then, put on the Granny Skirt suit and head to the pool for a half hour of laps, after which I put on an "inefficient" cover up to run up and give Anna her pool reward for allowing me to abandon her for an hour and a half.
That d@mn Granny suit. I bought it when PREGNANT with Anna. It's not a maternity suit per say, but since I'm still so out of shape every time I sport it I feel like relaxing my belly and pretending I AM pregnant, so I won't have to be too sad when the eventual question comes from the other Granny Suit sporters (the ones who are actually GRANNIES) who are in arthritis exercise class in the pool while I'm doing laps. At least I can take 'em on lap time so I can escape from their good natured conversation about my matronly belly.
I have been disparately shopping for a new one piece, but even a year after nursing it's the only one that fits me right in the boobs. If I try on a 10 or 12, they fit til I try to hoist them up over the mountainous chest I still sport. If I go to a 14 it's so loose there's no support. So I continue on with my White Stag cross backed skirted granny suit, generically labeled size Large, with a unique t/cross back that really actually supports me nicely. If only I could find that fit up top without the damn skirt (or a smaller more trendy version of the skirt...ech-hem...if one does in fact exist that could be labeled trendy.)
And Stacey's Mom? Well last night the former title holder watched as my ten year old tried to get into the hot tub by the pool, and the life guard yelled at him- no kids allowed. Then I got in without a glance from her, of course. A young couple joined me and the same lifeguard jumped up and ran over to the tub demanding, "Are you two eighteen????" Well of course they said yes, then admitted to me later that the girl was only sixteen. We laughed about how silly it was for the lifeguard to ask her that question that way, instead of, "How old are you?" She must be a rookie dealing with teens. Then I said, "Hmmm....why didn't the life guard ask ME that question????" They laughed....nervously. OBVIOUSLY she wouldn't have asked ME that...now.
But you know, there was a time not many years ago when she might have :( A time when even though it was obvious that I was over 21, the waiters always carded when I was out with my much younger theatre friends. Now? The waiter would probably assume I was THEIR mother.
I really hope I'll get there, sans cigarettes and over scheduling.
It's so much harder with four kids, two of whom are THIRTEEN, going on "giving me gray hairs."
BUT....
The Y has brought one immediate change. In the way the kids see our house. We used to be the mean and boring parents, with more rules and expectations than they have elsewhere.
But now? We're the cool parents with the fun Y membership.
I guess in this case membership does have it's privileges.
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