Greetings, Friends! I was going to begin this blog by apologizing for my lack of posts. How hard can it be for me to type my train of thoughts on a laptop, right? I even have the added bonus of a nagging housemate who asks me everyday why:
- I never remember to get his dry cleaning
- if I will ever cook for him again and
- why can’t I write on my blog.
But I now have 4 very high maintenance individuals that need my constant attention- whether it be the 5 year old who needs a complete run down on the tooth fairy policies and procedures, the 3 year old who since the birth of his sister has threatened to burn our house down, the baby who never wants to be put down, or the aforementioned housemate who says he’s getting a vasectomy because “someone has to put a stop to this madness”, so bear with me….
It’s been 7 weeks since I gave birth- I am recovered (the advantage of birthing a 6 lb, 15 oz baby after her 9 lb, 4 ounce brother paved the way), somewhat coherent and surprisingly not even taking happy pills. Not sure if it’s because I am still giddy that my baby has girl parts or just that by the 3rd kid I know what I am doing (er, sort of). But other than the fact that I am not sleeping much, all is well. For example, I haven’t rigged one of the seemingly always barking chihuahuas up on a spit and Holgate hasn’t moved out. Yet, I can’t completely gush. Not all is perfect. You would agree IF YOU SAW ME NAKED. Barf.
My friend Dawn once told me that she thought my self deprecating sense of humor was my best character trait. Thank you, Dawn. I would have to concur- making fun of myself is not only entertaining to many, but relatively easy. Most certainly in recent years, I find myself eating a big slice of humble pie about once a day. My pie a la mode came at 9:10 am recently in the form of “Body Combat” class. I allowed myself to be peer pressured by my friends Susanne and Nicki to try this new exercise class at the Y. These are the same two I used to take “Body Pump” with while 9 months pregnant. Now I am starting to wonder if they just stare at my jiggly bits and say “thankfully I am not pregnant or postpartum with 2 months until bikini season..” Evil bitches!
I tried to go Angelina Jolie-esque and wear all black (they say it has a slimming effect?) Not so much. As I was jabbing and side kicking away, all 15 extra pounds of baby fat that lies in my belly was jiggling all about like a bowl of jello during an earthquake.
Also, note to self: wear multiple, supportive sports bras while exercising. My F cup’s were be-bopping about- thankfully I doubled up on breast pads as to not douse anyone in a 6 feet radius. Am I giving you a good visual? Even worse- after the class I ran into people from high school. I am fairly certain I was a punchline later that day.
So, any of you local West Chesterities who want to follow me in my journey, or just get a good laugh- I will be at the Y every morning jiggling about and singing quietly to myself: na na na na na na nana na na na na nana…