Time?

Over the past few weeks, I've had dozens of ideas about blogs that I want to write. But the moment I get a ...er, moment to write one, I forget what I want to write then I discover something else I'd rather do. Like clean up all the junk mail clutter that trails throughout our house.

This blog first started off with  me tracking my weight loss accomplishments after the first year of marriage left me about 10 pounds heavier. It was great to see the results and also have a venue to vent.

It sort of ended with me getting pregnant and being too tired to do much of anything other than sleep and eat. I continued to work out for a while, although I had to skip my beloved half marathon, but I got discouraged at the thought that I couldn't really push myself anymore. When I work out, I like to sweat and I like to hurt a little bit and I like to be sore the next day. You can't really do that while pregnant, I was too tired anyway, so I gave up working out.

Thus, here I am. With a tiny, awesome little being on my hip and about 15 extra pounds everywhere else. I probably went a little too gung-ho on the whole "eating for two" thing, but hey, I've learned my lesson and I won't do it again. I was excited, when I was pregnant, to gain the weight because I was totally up for the challenge of losing it again. But then I had the baby, and now I have no time. For anything. Including blogging.

But here's the cool thing: you know how you hear new moms talk about the new respect they have for their body after they've had a baby? Yeah, that is totally true. I am a freaking champ right now. My body doesn't fit into the "fat jeans" I had before I got pregnant. I've had to go up two sizes from where I was earlier this year. My once flat stomach is kind of flappy, so are my arms, and I've inherited my dads thick legs which are, at the moment, without much tone.

And it's pretty okay with me. Don't get me wrong, I really want to start working out again. Badly. I want to start running. I want to lift weights and get sweaty and kick my own ass again. With the cold weather making going for walks impossible for an 8 week old, and her not ever wanting to be put down making it hard to for me to pick up my weights, I find myself just trying to watch what I eat and go with the flow. I'm trying not to freak out when I hear about celebrity "post baby-bodies" (Heidi Klum did the Victoria Secret fashion show two months after having her third child, how do you compete with that??), and I'm doing an okay job. I'll get back into the swing of things once it gets warmer outside and she starts sleeping for longer periods of time at night (I've been tired for almost a year now). I read somewhere once that a way to help your child feel a secure love is to make certain sacrifices, which can include sacrificing your once-svelte figure to spend time with your child. 

So it's okay with me. For right now I'm going to enjoy the holidays, eat as healthy as I can (the great thing about maternity leave is having time, sort of, to make great dinners), and just enjoy this time because I won't ever get it back. One day she will be too big to be held and kissed and rocked and cuddled, and I know that I will miss these days. So I'll stick with my few extra pounds, thank you, if it means a few extra hours with my girl.