So the manic toddler is in bed and you finally get to put your feet up. There you are with half an Easter egg consumed (you bought your own, you haven’t quite sunken to eating the tiny lady’s egg…yet) and you are mindlessly scrolling through your Facebook feed. It’s the usual mix of status updates, inspirational quotes and the odd cat or two…then a chunk of chocolate falls out of your mouth in horror (you’ll only notice the stain on the couch later). For there is a new mum holding her gorgeous baby. It’s a beautiful photo but it fills you with guilt. Why? Because clearly this woman has just given birth and still looks thinner than you! You quickly log out. But now your chocolate-stained face looks back at you through the blank computer screen, silent in its judgement.
You think back to how you were in the early days of motherhood. Driven by anxiety and lack of sleep you didn’t eat much and raced around the place like a monkey on speed. You had great plans then. You would walk with baby everyday. Maybe you would join a mother and baby exercise class. And you could stick on a workout DVD while she napped. At first the weight falls off effortlessly. You have lost your appetite in the overwhelming rush of stress that accompanies a newborn (well mine anyway) and in fairness you are dashing up and down the stairs a lot to ensure she is still breathing (you don’t trust that fancy monitor). Soon you find yourself in spitting distance of your pre-baby jeans, the gold medal of the post-birth olympics. And then it all changes. You hit the comfort zone. You find out you aren’t too bad at this motherhood business and baby is finding her groove. You are even sleeping the night through (mostly). When she goes down to bed for the night you find yourself reaching for a cup of tea and a snack or two.
Before you know it baby is one and you still haven’t entirely shifted the flab. Then the two year milestone comes creeping around the corner. You realise that your ‘baby weight’ may now just be called ‘weight’ and you can’t really blame the ‘baby’ anymore. She is now a walking, talking toddler and before you know it she will be in school and you will still be moaning about your ‘baby weight’.
So what’s the solution? Well don’t ask me. I have half an Easter egg to get through before my tiny lady wakes up again. But if you do think of a solution do please let me know…I promise to put down the chocolate long enough to at least listen.
(Mis) Adventures in Toddlerdom 