9 months later, I am 9 pounds away from pre-baby weight.
|Please disregard my pants tucked into my socks; I was wearing boots.|
This means I have lost at least 51 pounds, probably more because I stopped weighing myself the last few weeks of pregnancy.
I am excited and proud (toot toot that horn!), but I'm almost more horrified that I had that much chub to lose, for I so very much brought that on myself. And I'm still working on reaching my Zen about the fact that pregnancy is a thing that I'm not done with; I'll do this again and again over the next several years. Thank goodness the most delightsome small friends are the reasons for the jiggly-quality of a mother's body.
This week Jeff and I had a good laugh for about 10 minutes walking down memory lane, the lane of Meredith's Non-Stop Pregnancy Eating. I really thought I wasn't that bad at the time, that this weight was just mysteriously accumulating because the Universe was out to get me, but in hindsight, I know different. Now I remember Coney Island Footlong Hot Dogs at Sonic, entire boxes of Christmas Chocolate Covered Jo-Jos from Trader Jo's, Orange Juice by the gallon, Peanut Butter Smoothies, I could go on. And on.
However, I have hope that next time it will be different. (I say that like it's out of my hands completely. Ha!) Here's to the next 9 pounds, may they hit the road with more running and fewer treats, which is another blog post for another day.