Friday, May 2, 2014

Close but no cigar

I made it a goal to hit the stupid "nine on -nine off" metric. You know, the one that is supposed to be taking pressure off of new moms by saying that they don't have to bounce back right away while actually implying that your ass better be back in gear by an actual hard deadline. So yeah. I missed it. By a tenth of a pound which I know is within the error but I was already giving the before number some slack so I missed it. And I won't lie to y'all and say I didn't try using the bathroom or that I didn't contemplate feeding Andrew a little more. But I didn't. I'm not quite there yet.

I am annoyed at myself because it really wasn't a reach goal. I truly needed only moderate moderation to get there but I just haven't been able to resist my junk food urges in the last couple years.

I will pat myself on the back with exercise. I am just coming off of 30 days of the 30 day shred. Damn Jillian Michaels kicks my butt!

So I move on. I still have a good number of Elle bees to ditch to get to what I sort of consider my goal. But probably more important is getting a handle on that moderation.

I've figured out that I may never have the zen relationship with food that others seem to. That's ok I guess, I do have a somewhat better relationship with healthful food and I think building on that is more important.

I could do a post baby body post but I will sum it up in this one. I got back into my clothes mostly but there is something different. I was hoping to avoid the "softer" description I see from others postpartum but I'm softer. I am also going to need some really excellent bras when I finish breastfeeding. But other than that I still look at my belly and then look at my son and marvel that that was possible (and I do the same looking at my own mom). It is all so bizarre and fantastic.

*this post is not a cry for compliments, excuses, justification, outrage, etc. It is just what I was musing on this morning.

Here are my boobs trying to be the only body part that doesn't want to fit into an old dress.

Could be worse, Andrew's head grows faster than his body.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

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