Now I've finally got through most of the washing (see last week's post) I have re-discovered the thing all Mum's dread: my body nemesis - the pre-preggers jeans.
Oh the pain.
Until now I had done pretty well in my post baby weight loss. I'd say I was fairly committed to my cause. I even have a treadmill IN MY BEDROOM!
Yes - the actual room I sleep in. So I look at it last thing at night and first thing in the morning. The masochist in me favours torture as my motivational weapon of choice.
It has worked. To some degree. And I have lost a lot of weight.
And managed to get back into some of my pre preggers clothes , such as dresses for work etc.
So it was all going so well.
Until there, lurking in the bottom of one of the boxes from the loft, were the jeans of omens. The jeans I can no longer get past my THIGHS! Yes. Let me repeat - T H I G H S!!! I tried (and tried).
It would be bad enough if I couldn't get them done up. But not even past my thighs?!!
How is this even close to being fair????
So. What to do.
The worn out, deflated Mummy in me thinks I should just accept those days are gone and I should simply throw the jeans away so that they may torment me no more.
However. The stubborn, determined part of me will not be so easily beaten and wants to put them somewhere in eye shot so I will glance at them daily.
Admittedly, I have not been on the treadmill with as much regularity as last year. But I have been on it.
And I have given up booze in Jan (well 27 days but I'll cover that in another post). And I don't exactly pig out. And I'm contemplating cutting back on my coffee. And you know how I like my coffee!!!
So what to do.
Continue the torment or admit defeat. Let the internal conflict begin.
I am currently undecided.
Oh, and if you are one of the lucky ones who walked out of hospital in your pre preggers jeans, or even got back into them within a year of having your baby, I hate you.
(not really)
...
(maybe just a bit)
...
WM x
Oh the pain.
Until now I had done pretty well in my post baby weight loss. I'd say I was fairly committed to my cause. I even have a treadmill IN MY BEDROOM!
Yes - the actual room I sleep in. So I look at it last thing at night and first thing in the morning. The masochist in me favours torture as my motivational weapon of choice.
It has worked. To some degree. And I have lost a lot of weight.
And managed to get back into some of my pre preggers clothes , such as dresses for work etc.
So it was all going so well.
Until there, lurking in the bottom of one of the boxes from the loft, were the jeans of omens. The jeans I can no longer get past my THIGHS! Yes. Let me repeat - T H I G H S!!! I tried (and tried).
It would be bad enough if I couldn't get them done up. But not even past my thighs?!!
How is this even close to being fair????
So. What to do.
The worn out, deflated Mummy in me thinks I should just accept those days are gone and I should simply throw the jeans away so that they may torment me no more.
However. The stubborn, determined part of me will not be so easily beaten and wants to put them somewhere in eye shot so I will glance at them daily.
Admittedly, I have not been on the treadmill with as much regularity as last year. But I have been on it.
And I have given up booze in Jan (well 27 days but I'll cover that in another post). And I don't exactly pig out. And I'm contemplating cutting back on my coffee. And you know how I like my coffee!!!
So what to do.
Continue the torment or admit defeat. Let the internal conflict begin.
I am currently undecided.
Oh, and if you are one of the lucky ones who walked out of hospital in your pre preggers jeans, or even got back into them within a year of having your baby, I hate you.
(not really)
...
(maybe just a bit)
...
WM x
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| There they are. Leering at me in my kitchen... |
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