I expected a lot of things when having children. The endless diapers, and lack of sleep. How it would effect my body was not one of them. The stretch marks, not only on my belly, but boobs, arms, and legs. The loose, saggy skin. The hair loss. The weight gain that didn't melt off like it does on all the celebrates.
I didn't expect these things, but after each child I didn't kill myself to correct them. For me it didn't make sense to do all this work just to start over in a year or two. So I sat back and enjoyed my little heathens.
Sadly my idle days of gestational brownie binging are over. It's time to get down to business. Damnit.
I have no self control when it comes to food. Zip. Nada. Zilch. I can't tell you how many time's I've told my husband, we can't have cookies in the house, I'll eat them all. In a few hours. He just tells me not to. WTF? But they're THERE. Talking to me. Tempting me with their cholcolatey goodness. That hype about cravings only lasting 15 minutes is bullshit. I will obsess about them until they are gone.
Than you just have to burn off more calories than you eat, my husband says. Why don't you go lay out in the driveway so I can back out over you, I say. The man burns 500+ calories on a twenty minute run. And it's not like I can just pop out to the gym. I have three children under five, the babysitting cost would be ridiculous. I can't wait until the hubs gets home, or go before he leaves, because when he is home he often works 70 hr weeks. I am not dragging my ass out of bed at three am to jog. I'd rather stay chunky. So he offers to work out with me. I gave this a try. Ten minutes in he remarks on what a nice day it is. I told him to f*off. For the sanctity of our marriage we decided not to work out together.
I'm blessed in my mother. She bought me an amazing double stroller, and with the aid of a snugie, we are mobile! With my good friend, Meaghan and her two adorable girls we attacked the sidewalks of MCBH (Marine Corps Base Hawaii). It wasn't uncommon for us to walk for two hours, several times a week.
One problem. My husband likes to take the family out on the weekends. How am I gonna say no to a molten lava cake? With vanilla ice cream? I'm not. So while I wasn't gaining weight on these yummy indulgences, I wasn't loosing any either.
When Gilbert deployed and we moved home, I saw my golden opportunity. Nine months to work in a bon bon free environment. My goal, get back to my preprgnancy weight. Forty three pounds to lose. I had a slow start. Okay, I pretty much lulled about for the first three months, then (mostly) got down to business. I am sixteen pounds lighter and fitting into jeans I haven't worn in 3 years!