Friday, October 23, 2009

Six week mental check up.



Noah is six weeks old. I am trying to get into some routine that includes working out, but I also have to give myself a break. I read in a magazine at the doctors office that after you have a baby you have to let go of unrealistic expectations, like looking like Heidi Klum--who I have no idea who she is but I am sure she is the beautiful, Sports Illustrated type--in six months. Six months?? And here I am at six weeks banging my own head against the wall because my regular jeans are super duper hoochie tight and uncomfortable.
Is there a pill for this?
I remember with Ethan my clothes fitting differently, my hips being wider specifically. I remember not minding, liking my new, more round and soft motherly look. In fact, I think I wore my pregnancy pants for a few months after the baby was born.
This time? I think I packed up every last piece of maternity clothing I had and either gave it away or put it in the garage, far far far away from my closet, sometime that first week. I was determined the baby was going to do as little disrupting as possible in our life: our schedule, our time, our money and yes, my pants.
The pregnancy was so hard for so many reasons, I was bracing for the worst when Noah arrived, so in my mind I got everything in order: back to work at four weeks, a chore list with every chore possibly imaginable including dusting floorboards and the fans--weekly, and an exercise routine five days a week.
With a newborn. And a three year old.
I am surprised at how well my "expectations" have actually realized, despite them being terribly unrealistic. Borderline psycho really.
The only one that has fallen off the band wagon is the exercise, and that's partly because I have also been sick. And, well, I have ignored some of the stupid chores I originally thought were imperative to life going well. Like dusting the floorboards.
Noah has been such a trooper through all this madness, swinging in his chair, sucking his pacifier just like Maggie Simpson. It's good when I stop to remember to hold him just because, to feel his baby weight in my arms, run my fingers over his fat, baby man thighs. Those moments, I know somewhere inside of me, are more important than getting up at five a.m. to exercise.

4 comments:

Auntie Jess said...

That kid looks like Ethan!

Deaira Dea said...

yeh he does look like Ethan... :) In 20 years you won't remember that your pants didn't fit or that your floor boards weren't dusted but you'll try to remember the weight of that sweet little boy in your arms and the feel of his soft pudgy skin under your finger soak it up Momma every minute...

Katie Marie said...

I feel like you are speaking the words in my head. I didn't like this pregnancy at all. Last time I was a jolly fat prego who wore maternity clothes for months after and never stressed.

I stopped wearing maternity clothes when Maggie was 3 days old. I have been depressed and feel disgusting and she is only 12 weeks old. I have been working out and dieting as much as breast feeding allows and the weight is still hanging on.

I just keep telling myself that she is only a baby for a year and then a kid for 18. This year needs to be about her and not me.

Which I am sure you know is easier said than done.

trinity said...

Oh He is cute not that I had any doubt! I miss you! I love you I want post! Once I settle in Italy you and Joey are welcome to come and visit anytime! Love you!