To me losing weight and getting back into shape is about as exciting as cleaning your dog’s anal glands… or running. I don’t like running and that is why I decided to get a treadmill. Because I need an extra clothing rack, that’s why. Also I feel like having a treadmill would force me to become more creative with my excuses… I mean what do you say when you finally don’t have to pack two kids to come with you, you have a TV in front of you, there is no rain, no sun and my latest one – too much fresh air that gives me a headache. (I know what you are thinking… and the answer is yes – for a reasonable fee I will write excuses for you for almost anything and if you call now I will drink your wine too)

I know there are hundreds of blogs out there dedicated to changing our views on what a beautiful woman is and putting an end to the suddenly popular self-loathing. I read them. I get them. I am completely on board with it. It would be nice if my daughter didn’t have to worry about it or if by the time she is grown up the stereotypes of modern society were more forgiving towards natural womanly curve. But I would lie if I said I am above it or I am strong enough to overcome this myself. I don’t want to be your hero or your inspiration when it comes to acceptance and your mental health in general (I’m already worried that you are actually reading this and possibly considering leaving a comment…) At the moment I am not ok with my body – I’m not overweight and I don’t have any weight related health problems, but it just doesn’t feel like my body and I am going to try and change that. And I know that this does not sound uber-enthusiastic and promising, but just thinking about exercising and eating things with no flavor sucks out all the energy out of me.

My plan is simple – I will put myself on the treadmill for a few minutes a day and try this new diet where you eat only when you are hungry.

I may or may not become more accepting of my body as time goes by (something about getting older and wiser blah blah blah… ), but for now I will have to resort to faking the change I want to see in my kids.

P.S. Why are there so many treadmills ? And why is the rubber belt on wheels over $10?!

P.S.S. Why can’t blogging be a calorie burning sport?!

I don’t look bad. In fact, for the kind of lifestyle I lead I should look way worse, but what kind of XXI century woman would I be if I didn’t  try to conform to current norms of absolute bodily perfection? The endless pursuit of a perfect body is so… romantic, n’est-ce pas?

Stop rolling your eyes. It’s rude. Unless it burns calories, in which case you should make an exercise DVD collection… because this nation needs more exercise videos. Trust me. I would have bought one too, but couldn’t find a cover with a girl that would be skinny enough to inspire me. Oh well, I got a pedometer instead. It’s so pretty and athletic looking that I felt lighter just buying it. Surely paying $11 for a plastic belt attachment will motivate me to make more steps.

The intruction sheet says that a healthy person should make a minimum of 10,000 steps per day. I have no idea how many I make but 10K looked like a big-ish number… I estimated that it is probably more steps then to the nearest Krispy Kreme and back. Maybe if I could walk to the Kripy Kreme and go another block all the way to that new Starbucks shop… maybe.  I had no idea, so I attached my newly acquired little sexy thing to my not so sexy waist and pranced around all day doing all the exciting things that a mother of two-under-two would normally do, all while daydreaming about a thinner self running up and down the beach in slow motion wearing a high cut red swimsuit … see? ROMANTIC! Only my vision doesn’t include David Hasselhoff… just saying.

Back to reality – I barely made half of the recommended minimum. Now if only I looked half as good as I do in my vision… but in a spirit of being nicer to myself I said:

Self, well done. You can quadruple that tomorrow and I see The Playboy cover in your future!

Thank you. That’s a very nice thing to say.

You are very welcome, self.

Then I sat back in my new Shermag glider and started doing what I’ve been doing most of the day – rocking the baby. (I don’t know why we didn’t get this chair with our first child – I practically live in it now! Would it be weird if we replaced all of our dinning chairs with those?) Anyway… the new chair was making a noise. A weird clicking noise that was slowly driving me crazy (and we all know that’s not a very long drive…)

Oh but it wasn’t a chair… it was my NEW.SEXY.$11 PEDOMETER!

I’ve been faking my steps all day long just by rocking the baby on the glider.

Tomorrow I will try leaving the house.

(I will probably need new sneakers for that)

(Something that would motivate and inspire me… something sexy for sure)

If you looked in my closet you would think there are at least 3 different women living here. One size 4, the other one size 8/10 and the chubby one who’s favorite color is obviously black – size 12. My husband says I am not fat, but my brain is. Indeed.

I always knew how to lose weight, I just never quite figured out how to keep it off. Like any normal teenager I did my share of body loathing and dieting. I am not going to blog about how half of my family died from heart attacks due to obesity, because I just do not need another excuse to eat a gallon of Ben&Jerry’s. I could totally be a poster child for all yo-yo dieters. I am your typical next door girl who loves food and hates exercising with passion. Who starts new life EVERY Monday and EVERY January. Who also knows that the true beauty comes from the inside and blah blah blah…. To make it short – intellectually I get it. I do not need Dr.Phil to tell me that I have a tendency to eat my feelings. Me and my fat (brain) have very unhealthy off-again-on-again kind of relationship.

The day I got pregnant I knew I will get out of control. And I did. I gained 50lbs and after I gave birth I had to ask the doctor if she was sure there was not another baby (or two) still left inside. I failed breastfeeding miserably, so burning calories while feeding the baby was out of the question. I am so sick and tired of my weight loss and weight gain that I was not even sure I want to blog about it AGAIN. But this is the first time in my life I am doing it gradually. And the first time I actually got some professional help, because whatever I was doing for the past 20+ years is clearly not working for me.

We set my goal weight to be in the middle of a healthy range for my specific height and BMI. I am shooting for the middle. Who knew mediocrity would feel so good?! I gave myself 9 months to get back in shape. There is no magic – I plan my meals a week ahead and walk 2 miles 6 days a week. I have been doing this for 4 weeks now and lost about 8lbs. So you could say that the first trimester of my postpartum weight loss has been a success. But I am not jumping up down mostly because I have been down this road many many times before… 10lbs down, 20lbs up just a mere week later. I hope to lose another 5lbs by the end of July. For that to happen I need to start running again. Good luck to me…

Since my family is so loving and tactful they always ask how fat I have gotten and how badly have I ruined my body with this pregnancy. So here is “the before”, “the after” and the “after the after” shots of my mid section.

This last one was taken this morning and actually does not look as bad as I have been seeing in the mirror. What I see and feel is more like this:

Fat brain. I have it.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlTz_f_0SM0