Flubber and size 4 pants.

Well, I guess I had it coming, but I was still unprepared for the site of myself in full 360 degree mirrors in an exercise class today at the gym.  I had it pretty easy after my daughter was born, to clarify....I had a pretty easy time losing my baby weight after my daughter was born.  Everything else has been, well, pretty hard actually!  Anyway, breastfeeding was my friend, and by the time my daughter was nearing two I weighed less than I had since college.  I was exercising only sporadically (although we lived in a small town and walked most everywhere) and eating a ton.  My life felt tough, sleep was a fleeting memory, time alone? forget it!, so 'treating' myself with salty snacks and frozen yogurt, or whatever else I so desired felt well deserved.  I was thin, so I didn't really think much about it.  Occasionally I thought (being a long time gym junkie), "I wonder how rockin' I could get my body if I really worked at it now with my breastfeeding metabolism in full swing?"  I'd go for a few runs and a yoga class, then a few sleepless nights and hair pulling days would throw me back into the freezer for the Ben and Jerry's (actually it was Black Cherry Soy Creamy from Trader Joe's, but that sounds less cool).  But who cared? I was buying size 4 pants, who can argue with that?
Then life took me on a big detour.  In the fall, we moved from sunny Santa Barbara California to Portland Oregon.  I became totally dependent on my car, I wrapped myself in sweats and scarves and coats (and still froze), and I weaned my daughter (an experience that was harder on me than her!).  Fast forward 6 months and it is summer, well, Pacific Northwest summer anyway, so I get the box of summer clothes out of our attic and eagerly go through some of my beloved Santa Barbara clothes.  I am sure you can already see this coming...I kind of did too but I was naively hopeful....nothing fit!  Not even close!  I braved the scale to learn I had packed on almost 15 pounds over the winter.  And since I was not exercising at all they weren't just any 15 pounds (I wasn't much more than my pre-pregnancy weight), they were bumpy, doughy, jiggly fat pounds!  Ugh!
I guess my utopia of no effort and size 4 pants is at an end.  I'm back to my norm, where I must exercise and eat mostly healthy in order to be in the size I want and, more importantly, strong and healthy.  Here's what gets me the most about my new doughy body...regret.  What if I had worked out while nursing?  How skinny could I have gotten?  I worried now and then about what would happen when I weaned my daughter, why didn't I do anything about it?
Well, I didn't.  I spent 2 plus years spending almost 100% of my time with my daughter.  I am not going to regret that!  What I do regret is not taking action for myself before I managed to grow out of all my clothes.  But I didn't.  So now what?    Yes, it is a bummer than I now have 15 pounds of flab to turn to muscle, instead of starting from skinny and trying to stay there...but I can't go back and change it so to sit and dwell would be a waste of time. 
So...back to what I enjoy.  Training for a half marathon, exercise classes at the gym, and lifting weights so I have sculpted shoulders and arms.  My daughter is old enough to enjoy an hour or two a week in the kids room at the gym, and to learn by example about exercise and eating right. 
Do I miss my size 4 pants?  Heck yeah....but they'll be in the attic waiting for me...and I'll wear them again!

Out of sight, Out of mind??

When I picked up my daughter from her sitter yesterday I got "the vibe". You know, that feeling you get that you aren't doing as much as you could/should for your child? Whether "the vibe" actually comes from other people or from some place deep inside of yourself, as I suspect, it isn't a good feeling. I suddenly wondered, for the first time, if I ask enough questions about my daughter's day when I pick her up. I realized with a jolt, that as long as my daughter is alive, happy, and without injury I really don't care how the day went. Is that awful? Is that normal? Or am I a horrible parent, totally callous and disconnected from my child?
After the cold sweat went away I started to think about this. When I am not with my daughter, I don't spend my time away thinking about what she is doing. While some might see this as cold and disinterested, I would like to consider it balanced and healthy. I did a lot of work finding the right childcare situation for my daughter with someone that I completely trust. That time and work and research at the beginning pays off now, since I can leave my daughter with her caregiver without worry.