girlfiend

After the Fiendling was born I could not lose the weight. I was puffy and bloated forever and despite my careful attention to diet and exercise I couldn’t fit into my pre-pregnancy pants for 9 months. Three weeks after the birth of number 2 I’m small again. I’m not pre-pregnancy size and I don’t plan on trying on my jeans for a few more months, but I’m not puffy or bloated. I’m surprised when I look in the mirror by how much I look like myself. I don’t know what happened and I’m not complaining. This is a gift.

Remember how I said I wasn’t going to diet*?

The next day I stepped on the scale and learned that the 5-6 pounds I gained was more like 8. It really snuck up on me. Considering I still work out 3 days a week and eat pretty well, I couldn’t figure out where it came from. Then I remembered. Like many mothers before me I’ve fallen into the trap of eating what the baby doesn’t. Sort of. I don’t finish what’s on his plate or anything, but I tend to eat what he eats for lunch and Cheddar Bunnies and various types of cheesy rice and pasta aren’t the lowest calorie foods.

I think the few bites of his meals in addition to the regularly scheduled meals have really caught up with me. My metabolism isn’t what it used to be and even though I’m still working out I’m not working out with the intensity I once did. I used to work out for two hours at a time. I was lifting 3 days, doing yoga 3 days and doing cardio 5 days a week. Now I’m lucky if I lift 3 days and fit in cardio 2 days. I went to yoga for the first time since early May yesterday.

But I’m still not going to diet. On Saturday I decided to document everything I ate. Because I was writing it down (and I wrote down the three bites of black cherry water ice) I was conscious of what went into my mouth. Instead of eating every bite the Fiendling tried to feed me, and he loves feeding other people, I said “no thanks” and kept my mouth shut. Instead of the usual bagel for breakfast I made a fruit smoothie. Instead of goat cheese and crackers for lunch I ate homemade hummus and beet greens with sauteed garlic scapes on whole wheat pita. I ate a bunch of fresh fruit and a few crackers with peanut butter for snacks. For dinner I ate most of a tofu, rice and cheese stuffed pepper with a side of swiss chard.

I stopped writing stuff down after lunch yesterday, but I’m still paying close attention to what I eat. Since I weighed myself on Friday morning I’ve lost 2 pounds. I’d like to lose a few more so my too-small shorts will button over my gut again. It will be interesting to see if I lose any more by next week when I weigh myself again.

*In that post I referenced maternity fashion. Today at Old Navy almost every fucking mannequin looked pregnant. This hoodie looks just like every maternity shirt I bought from Old Navy. And the trapeze shirt? It appears to nip in at the waist in the photo on the website, but the model in the picture in the store looked like she was wearing a tent. It’s wrong, I tell you. Though perhaps not as wrong as the maternity-like dress with a balloon sleeve.

I feel sort of pathetic for being so obsessed with this, but I’m at my mom’s shore house and shore means bathing suit so it’s on my mind.

After the great stomach flu incidents I’ve gained back some of the weight I lost. Not a lot. Just 5 or 6 pounds. But those pounds mean that two pairs of shorts don’t fit comfortably and I have a rule that I absolutely refuse to even attempt to wear something that doesn’t fit comfortably. So for shorts I’m down to two pairs I bought from Target on a whim (that fit okay, but not well by any stretch of the imagination) and last year’s way too big post-pregnancy shorts. I have one casual, flowy (yet totally see through) skirt, one long linen way-too wrinkly skirt, and a denim skirt that’s not flattering so I won’t wear it any more. I have one pair of denim capris that are way too hot, but I wear them almost every day and one pair of khaki stretch capris from Old Navy that still fit, but are super-low rise so I only wear them when a shirt of the appropriate length is clean. And almost none of my shirts are long enough. All of the pre-pregnancy stuff is still way too small on top and I’m beginning to think I just wore a lot of belly shirts because my belly was once toned and flat. Now? It’s not toned and flat enough for me to be okay with belly shirts. I have three new t-shirts of appropriate lengths, a couple of nicer t-shirts to wear out, and four long tank tops.

Now that I’ve listed it it’s not a terrible selection, but it’s tough to go to playgroup once a week and think, oh shit, I wore this exact outfit last week.

And the extra weight? I’ve decided not to lose. I thought about it and even stopped eating carbs after noon one day. But then I figured that I may try to get pregnant again at some point and what’s the point of suffering when I’m still nursing? So I’m not buying any new clothes. And I’m not dieting. And let’s hope I do decide to get pregnant soon because tell me internet, what’s up with the maternity clothes? Seriously. The fashion, yes, I said fashion, is maternity. I went to a college graduation party and I was very worried that EVERY WOMAN THERE was pregnant until I realized that they were all just wearing shirts or dresses with empire waists. Look at this. And this. And this. Because, really, they all look like they could be maternity clothes and that’s not right, because when I was pregnant I would have killed for cute, regular, non-maternity clothes that were forgiving enough to be warn as maternity. So if you’re pregnant, you’re really lucky. And if you’re not, wear something that doesn’t make people wonder if that’s a bump you’re hiding.

So you know how I gained close to 60 pounds when I was pregnant despite that fact that I worked out 3 times a week and didn’t over eat? Then I had the baby and couldn’t work out for a while and once I could it was summer and I was at the shore a lot. During that time I dropped off of my gym’s FAB Club board. Once we stopped going to the shore I was back at the gym regularly, and as you know I lost the weight, but because it’s an average of six months worth of visits that get you on the board I was off for a long, long time. But now I’m back. As of February I’m back on the board, motherfuckers. I think they owe me a new FAB Club t-shirt.

For the first time in more than a week the Fiendling is taking a nap someplace other than the car. Before he started napping in the car (I now keep books under the seat for when we’re parked with the car running in a lot somewhere) he would only nap on me. Yet he’s sleeping through the night again, at least for the time being. Feast or famine around here. Does this nap, on my bed, not in his crib of course, mean that he’ll be up all night? Only time will tell.

And in other news, I’m officially down to my pre-pregnancy weight. Perhaps it has something to do with that last bout of stomach flu, but the numbers are down, even when I’m wearing sweatpants and sneakers. So for all of you (all right, it was just one person, but I knew it was pointed at me) who made snide comments on your blogs about how stupid women who gain more than the recommended 25-30 pounds are and how they’re destined to never lose the weight, fuck off.

You’d think, based on my previous obsession with them, that as soon as the jeans fit, really fit, I’d have said something, but somehow that milestone passed without too much fanfare. The jeans are now slightly too big. In fact, all of my pre-pregnancy pants, at least those that are seasonably appropriate are a little on the loose side.

The scales say I’m not quite down to pre-pregnancy weight, which I believe since my tops are all still too small. I’m not certain (like the pants it could just take time) but I’m pretty sure the Fiendling officially stretched out my ribcage forever, and my extra-small and small button-down shirts will never button without weird gaps again. Even the t-shirts are way too small, hitting my belly button instead of my waist. But that’s okay. I can live with a stretched out, uneven ribcage if it means I can wear my way too expensive jeans.
It took about nine months, just like all the books said. I thought that despite the 60 pounds I’d somehow get around that and lose all the baby weight by six months, but I was wrong and three extra months weren’t so bad. Now that my stomach is flat and my ass is regular sized I can go back to obsessing about whether or not my arms look fat.

Brining a turkey makes all the difference.

Paula Deen’s country stuffing is good, but regular stuffing is better.

One should never try new vegetable recipes on Thanksgiving. Everyone’s too busy eating the other stuff to care.

Banana Republic is finally selling shirts that hit below the waist. Belly shirts be damned.

A stomach virus, though I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, is a great way to lose the rest of the baby weight.

The combination of a stomach virus and a new, longer-length shirt from Banana Republic ensures that people will say, “You don’t look like you just had a baby,” at your high school reunion.

Nothing pleases a woman more than hearing the phrase, “You don’t look like you just had a baby,” from a number of different people.

No one on my mother’s side of the family can be trusted. They are all crazy in different ways and no matter how I try to stay out of it, I’ll always be dragged in.

Headbands look awfully cute on a short haircut.

One.9 Merlot isn’t bad at all, even if you’re not watching your carbs.

You may have been thinking to yourself, “Huh. I haven’t heard Girlfiend complain about her health in at least a week now.” Or not. Either way, I seem to have developed yet another case of the mastitis. Or perhaps it’s just a clogged duct that isn’t visible on the surface. Clog or infection, it hurts like a motherfucker. And I’m thinking it showed up because I was bold enough to think to myself (while examining the bruises, bumps and scabs that still remain on my arms, legs and stomach) that the poison ivy, while still pretty damn ugly, at least isn’t itchy these days.

Or maybe it’s because yesterday at the gym, this big, muscular, black dude Gary approached me to tell me how good I look these days. Gary, who is in sickeningly perfect shape, is one of the friendliest guys at the gym and has watched me gain 60 pounds and lose 50 of it.  Yesterday he told me that my haircut makes me look taller and that he can see I’m really losing weight. I thanked him and said, “I’m working on it, ” which is true, even though I haven’t bored you with the details lately.  A few minutes later, as I was setting up the leg press machine he walked over, leaned in and said, “In addition to what I just told you, I wanted to say that I’m proud of you.” I think I may have blushed as I thanked him again.

As for the working on it, I made an appointment with one of the trainers a couple of weeks ago to revamp my workout. In addition to the yoga and cardio I’d been sort of doing the old strapless dress workout in a half-assed sort of fashion and really wanted to step things up. Now I’m lifting heavier weights and alternating opposing muscle groups so the workout takes less time. It takes about 35 minutes to complete the weight circuit, which is about 15 minutes less than I was spending before. It’s only been two weeks, but I’m pretty sure it’s working, since I’ve been pretty sore the past few days. We’ll see. I’ve had these last ten pounds to lose for a couple of months now. Their will may be stronger than mine.

I guess I should take a few days off from the gym, what with the mastitis and all. I don’t have a fever yet, but based on the last several times I’ve had it, it’s just a matter of time.  Sweet.

Going out for drinks with friends for the first time in seven months. Or longer if you count the lack of drinks while pregnant. This picture is significant because I’m wearing the jeans, the outrageously expensive jeans I’ve been dying to wear again since I grew out of them minutes after learning I was pregnant. They’re still a little tight, but I was assured that they’re not “skanky teenage girl” tight.

I couldn’t resist hopping on the flickr 365 days self portrait bandwagon. This was my photo for day one. I’m going to have to keep the bathroom mirror cleaner for this.