I’ve been pretty much completely offline for a couple of weeks — visiting family in TX with the two boys — and I’m SO glad to be back. Loved catching up on the antics of my favorite diet/exercise bloggers tonight, and look forward to more updates of my own as I begin to return to a regular schedule (no more maternity leave) as of Monday. Yippee!
Hello!!! I’ve missed this blog, and anything else other than nursing and mothering, over the past couple of weeks. It’s good to be back!
A couple of snippets of news. I’d reached around 250 lbs with the pregnancy, but lost around 20 just with the delivery. Approx 7 lbs of baby, some placenta, amniotic fluid, etc. — gone, instantly. Now I’m breastfeeding like crazy and hoping to drop some more poundage. The great thing is that I’ve actually been craving HEALTHY things, unbelievably. Fruits, whole grains, etc. have all been high on my list post-partum, and I’m just totally going with it. Of course, I’ve been eating the odd ice cream (and an occasional frozen yogurt when I go out), so it’s not like I’m on the picture-perfect diet. Still, it’s generally been good and there’s been no real binging. Weighed myself this morning and I’m down another 4 lbs. I think perhaps the nursing has gotten me hyper-aware of the “food as fuel” concept — if I go too long without eating it’s scary the way my body reacts, and so I want to keep it fueled up as effectively and efficiently as possible.
The current fitness plan (to begin in the next couple of weeks) is to do the “Couch to 5K” program, and pick a target 5K to participate in. Was thinking of the Race for the Cure on Sept 14, and still may do that. But my potential training partner (yes! I have one of those now!) will be out of town that weekend — though she’s still up for training with me, anyway. So I need to either settle on that race, or find another that we can both run in. Must scour local race schedule.
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One of the biggest weights on my mind may soon be lightened. We (finally) got an offer on our house, and our counter-offer was accepted. So we are in contract and set to close around July 20. It wasn’t that close to our asking price, but it looks to be fair, given comparables in the area, so we are pleased. The house (and the uncertainty surrounding it) has been sort of draining us dry, what with expenses like trash pick-up, water, electricity, gas, etc. that we’ve been paying for, but not using. Not to mention the mortgage! Anyway, fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly in the next stages of the process, and that we actually close as expected. It’d be fantastic to get that behind us, as we ramp up to doubling our child care expenses when I go back to work.
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What else? Well, things with the little one are really nice, though demanding. He’s eating and gaining weight like a champ. We are also set to go on a big trip for a family wedding in Italy. (Not that we can afford it, but they came to our wedding despite difficult financial circumstances…) So, that’s exciting, but I have nothing to wear! Ok, baby crying so this is a good time to call this post quits. Until next time…
As my earlier-chronicled body woes have mounted, I’ve been giving serious thought to asking to work from home every day. It would save me from getting dressed in nicer-looking but fairly-constricting clothing. It would save me from tramping up and down stairs and sweating in crowded subways. And it would save me an hour to an hour-and-a-half of time wasted going back and forth to the office.
But… it would also mean I’d be at home alone all day — isolated and probably lonely. I might feel out of the loop at work, even more than I already do. I wouldn’t get the exercise of walking through my commute. I’d live in yoga pants and the like, which might get me down about my appearance. I’d also potentially feel like a bit of a failure, since my ever-expanding body would be keeping me confined to my home, essentially.
On the other hand, this is temporary. I’m 8 months pregnant, and I need to take it easy on myself. It’s cheaper to stay at home, too, as I’d save the commuting dollars and the expenses of eating out. I don’t interact much with the folks in my office, anyway — most of my work gets done over e-mail, or IM, or the phone.
Aargh. I really don’t know. I am already working from home 2x a week. Maybe I’ll just continue with this “wait and see” attitude until I get too miserable to continue the commute. As you can tell, I’m torn. I’m not ready to surrender to the pregnancy yet — though it will definitely happen, even if it’s at the moment I go into labor. I’m too invested in my job and I want to remain relevant as long as possible. Then again, why not go ahead and work from home, or take advantage of the opportunity and go out on (mostly-paid) maternity leave before the actual labor begins, so I’ll have a few days to relax? Hmmm…
Back in the “lot going on” phase…
My husband and I walked through Grand Central Station after this morning’s appointment with the OBGYN, staring up at the starry ceiling and wondering at how everyone but us seemed to have a camera and/or be part of a tour group.
“That was me,” he said, gesturing toward the crowds. He and his older brother started visiting NYC regularly in 1995, and, every time, they’d go to Grand Central, usually hauling along the NY newbie who’d joined their party that particular year. And now, here we were, walking hand-in-hand through the station as NYC residents. Again. Together. Husband and Wife. Parents. About to add another to our brood. He squeezed my hand and his voice shook a little as he told me how sentimental he was feeling, as he pondered everything we’d been through to get us to this point, and everything that lay ahead.
This is why I married the guy. He feels, and feels deeply. And he’s not afraid to show it — at least not to me. He amazes me every day with his wonderful fathering. It’s so amazing to be here, now, with everything that’s going on, and to take a moment to appreciate the wonder of it all.
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Since this is ostensibly a weight loss/fitness/body image blog, I’ll say I weighed in at 235 at the doctor’s office this morning, and I still have 10 weeks of big-time growing to do. Well, hopefully I’m not growing so much, but the baby is now 3 lbs and needs to gain 4 to be the same size as #1 when he was born. We’ve been thinking about joining a gym, but one side of me wonders whether it would be money well spent. Would I actually go? There are tons of other, easier ways of getting exercise, but the gym has child care and gives me a dedicated place where I can focus on my body. It’s also like $60/month which isn’t terrible but is definitely an expense. Hmm… Thoughts?
From the NYT:
As more patients seek treatment for both eating disorders and substance abuse, a complicated set of mixed messages can arise. The response to addiction is abstinence; but quitting food is not an option.
“We’re trying to get our patients to find effective behaviors and life skills,” said Dr. Kevin Wandler, the vice president for medical services at Remuda Ranch, which addresses both eating disorders and addiction at its facilities in Arizona and Virginia.
“Eating normally would be an effective behavior, but it’s easier to give up alcohol and drugs because you never need it again,” Dr. Wandler said. “If your drug is food, that’s a challenge.”
For the last few years, I’ve had a love/hate relationship with make-up. Growing up in Houston, land of big hair and panty hose, it wasn’t really even a question. Of course you wear make up, starting in your teens or even before — even if the stultifying heat and humidity meant it dripped off in the first few minutes. When I moved to New York, I was pleased to find it was more of a personal decision, but I still leaned more often toward using it rather than foregoing (except for during exercise or on lazy weekend mornings), even though I’ve been blessed with the kind of skin that often draws compliments from strangers.
When my husband and I began our courtship, he assured me I looked lovely without it. (And he hasn’t changed his mind, thank goodness.) When I moved to near-Berkeley, basically hippie-central USA, local cultural norms argued against it. When I had our son, I was happy just to get the time to take a shower, much less stand in front of a mirror and focus on myself for a few minutes. So, I haven’t been wearing it regularly.
Since moving to New York, a few factors have kicked in. The dry, cold air (and pregnancy hormones, no doubt) have brought out red splotchiness in my complexion. The gorgeous, stylish girls I see on the train, and on the streets, have me aspiring to take advantage of my natural assets. And, now that I have my husband’s help, I realize that I need to (and can) take back time to take care better care of myself — healthy diet, vigorous exercise. Why not make-up?
So, since I can’t find my make-up since moving here (it must be in a box somewhere, like so many other missing items), I started shopping — my search complicated by the fact that we are on a major economy drive. I hit multiple online shops, and sometimes went so far as to put things in my virtual shopping cart, before closing out the window and determining it was just too expensive. One evening, before picking up my son, I stopped into a drug store and cased out the colors and brands. But, there, too, I walked out without buying anything.
Finally, on Friday night, I was invited by my ex-boss to attend a little get-together with my former work colleagues at her loft apartment. What with the general weight gain, the pregnancy, and my nervousness about seeing old colleagues again, a little make-up confidence boost was in order. At the drugstore on the way into work, I picked up foundation, powder, eyeliner, eye shadow and blush, for the grand total of around $50. Not much by make-up standards, but a lot for a discretionary purchase. But, guess what? I’m so happy I did it.
My love/hate relationship has partly to do with my struggle over what using make-up means. Does it indicate that I’m unhappy with my appearance and want to cover up, somehow? Or is it part of a take-care-of-myself beauty regimen like diet, exercise, moisturizer, tooth-brushing, etc.? I think for me, interpretation #2 is appropriate, and I’m adding a few minutes to my morning routine — if not every day, at least fairly often. Because I’m determined to love myself.
My copy of “The Amazing Adventures of DietGirl” — the book — is here. Yippee! I just want to check out for a few days until I’m finished devouring it! Yummy!
This morning was a doozy. The boy insisted he wanted to “watch tee-bee” rather than getting dressed and going to day care, and he physically fought our attempts to dress him. After we finally wrestled him into clothes, got him out the door and dropped him off, we headed down to the subway. We rushed to catch a train only to find that it wasn’t the one we needed. Instead, it was the Q — one that (on a very cold day) would have dropped me a couple of very long blocks from my office — so we passed and waited for the next train…. the next ill-fated train. (Note this deft use of foreshadowing…)
A few stops out, the train just stopped. We heard the train operators talking to one another over the PA system (sidenote: shouldn’t they have a private channel to talk to one another?), basically admitting that they didn’t know what was wrong. Then, after a few minutes of back-and-forth, and waiting, the train lurched back into action. But our exitement was short-lived. The train would be taken out of service at the next stop, we were informed.
After lumbering off the train and braving the super-crowded platform, we decided to surface and find a new subway station. Twenty minutes of freezing-cold adventuring later, we stood on another platform, and up pulled the Q train… the one I’d earlier passed up in favor of the one that would (allegedly) take me closer to the office.
By the time I was walking that long couple-of-blocks to the office, I began to think that maybe I deserved some kind of treat, some kind of consolation, for my awful morning. There’s an amazing French bakery near the entrance to my office building. Perhaps one of their super-rich almond croissaints would do. Hmm… I thought to myself… my usual breakfast of eggs on whole wheat toast is much better for me. It’d help me power through the morning with a little protein. But the croissaint is so good, I considered, and I’ve had a rough morning. On the other hand, the croissaint is also more expensive, and the last time I had one I almost felt sick from the amount of sugar. But I deserve a little indulgence now and then, don’t I?
Long story short(er), I walked into my normal breakfast place, not the French bakery, and the short-order cook recognized me and asked, “eggs on whole wheat toast?” All I had to do was nod. After all, real love is feeding myself something that will sustain me, and nourish me, and keep me going for a few hours. That’s what I really need after a rough morning.
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In the interest of full disclosure, I must report that I did end up getting one of those fabulous croissants later. But, thankfully, it wasn’t out of some desire to console myself for a bad morning.
In other news, we finally unearthed our scale from one of the boxes and I found out the damage from pregnancy (and holidays) so far. I’m now up at 221, an 8 lb gain. Not ideal, but not terrible either, at 19 weeks (and counting!). Also, a doctor’s visit today — the first at new (old) NYC doctor — went well.
And… I’ve been wondering when I’d receive DietGirl’s widely-celebrated new book, which I pre-ordered back in the summer. It took me some time (and reading a blog post) to realize it had probably been sent to our previous address. Indeed, I checked the site, and it is likely winging its way toward me now, due to the magic of mail forwarding. Hope I receive it soon because I’m dying to dig in!
in NYC.
It is strange to walk into a never-before-seen apartment and realize that it is now home. I was stunned at first, because it didn’t fit my pre-conceived ideas of what it would be like, but it’s grown on me and I’ve begun to mentally arrange furniture (which won’t arrive for another week).
It is strange to be married again in that most basic of ways. I now live with my husband, and my son, and we are a team again. It’s really lovely, but it takes some getting used to.
It is strange to be working in Manhattan again. Coming to work on the subway feels so familiar, and comfortable… and then that familiar feeling seems strange, given I haven’t done it regularly in more than 3 years.
It is strange to take my boy to a new day care, and leave him with caregivers I’ve never met before. He seemed to enjoy it, though — especially the very friendly kids — and didn’t bat an eye when we left for work.
It is strange, and yet a blessing, to start life over again this way. As much as I’ve cried — and I’ve cried plenty — about leaving our previous life behind, there’s so much promise here as we begin afresh.
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UPDATE: Oooh, boy, things here can be difficult, and physical. Or maybe it’s just life with a 2.5-year-old in general. I went to pick him up last night from his day care, and he wouldn’t get in his stroller, and he wouldn’t follow me. He kept wandering off (the distractions of NYC are legion), and doing annoying things like picking up random items from the sidewalk.The only thing that seemed to work: carrying him on my shoulders. So imagine me, more than 200 pounds and 4 months pregnant, carrying a 35+ pound toddler on my shoulders and pushing a stroller into which I’ve put my laptop bag. It’s freezing outside, so we’re both wearing heavy coats, and I have to worry about his warmth, along with everything else. Much heavy breathing ensued. And the way home is slightly downhill…
On the way back to the day care this morning, also by myself (well, with the boy), I started to get into a groove pushing the stroller, in which he was sitting. I realized how much pure muscle and aerobic energy it takes. I’m going to get in better shape, for sure, but I need to take it easy as I gear up, too. Even more important — developing the mental dexterity to keep a 2.5 year old content as we go through such major upheaval. Wish me luck.