I’ve always had a great amount of admiration for parents who look so at ease while out with their young children, sitting serenely at dinner with the babe happily gumming his hands while sitting in his car seat. If the camera were to pan to my table, you’d likely see my six year old hard at work on completing the kids menu games, my the top of my husband’s head while clicking away on the Blackberry and me, sitting with the baby on my lap while he attempts to fling my plate back to the kitchen. That wide-eyed look on my face: it’s not Xanex-induced euphoria, it’s fear.
You see, after having 2 extremely demanding/screamy/colicky/generally unpleasant babies, I have started to hate going out without reinforcements. Having been front and center in the Great Colicky Baby saga of 2001-2, including such highlights as Out At Dinner, Where’s The Damn Check and At A Friend’s House, This Must Be Better Than Birth Control. 2004-5 held such gems during public bathroom potty training as Mom, Where Is Your Penis And Is It Dirty Down There? and Dave, Can I Hold Your Penis? These days, I’m more apt to have to fight such battles as Dude, Where Is The Tit? and But I Waaaannnnnnnttttt It, Mommy!!!
I want to be able to suck it up and not get so damn stressed out by it because I genuinely hate sitting around the house day after day, as I know that the only behavior that can be changed is my own. Aside from Xanex, I have no idea how I can do it.
I just watched Alexander, my talkative baby have a full out conversation, complete with full belly laughs with my nipple.
Either he was laughing at the smell eminating from my armpit, or the nipples the size of Mount Rushmore.
I had only one goal for being pregnant with Alexander. One stinking, flipping goal: not to become a total fatass as I had done with Ben. I ate well, occasionally indulging, of course, but overall, I grabbed a bowl of green beans over a donut every damn time. I guess the old “if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans” really rang true for me as I still managed to gain roughly what I did with Ben, WITHOUT THE DELICIOUS CHOCOLATELY GOODNESS.
So I figured, so what, I’d be one of those women who breastfed and lost most of the baby weight. I was okay with being 10 or 15 lbs fatter when I weaned him, but things are getting ridiculous over here. I’ve been nursing for nearly 5 months, and when I first attempted to diet I GAINED 3.5 LBS. I’ve since lost that plus an additional 2-3 lbs, but it’s killing me over here. I saw a picture of myself taken last night and nearly wept, who IS this fat person that’s taken over my body?
I considered doing Jenny Craig, but it’s extremely expensive (ala $400 a month) and I freaking hate boxed meals. I’ve tried the eating tofu, egg whites, and veggies and still, it’s not coming off fast enough for me. I’m nursing, so I can’t do anything extreme like I’d like to do, so I’m thinking Weight Watchers may be my best bet as I’m obviously not doing something right. It’d be one thing if I’d been holed up on my couch with a bag of Cheez It’s and a 24 case of Coke, but unfortunatly I’m not.
I think what’s most interesting about all of this is that if someone came to me and complained about the same thing, I’d remind her to give herself a damn break, that she’d JUST had a baby and was essentially giving him the best nutrition possible and that she needed to let it go for awhile. I DID try to let it go, and it lasted about a week before I realized that I was STILL obsessing about it.
So here is my plea, dear readers (few and far between as you may be) WHAT should I do here? How can I either buckle down and lose this fat or let it go for another couple of months?