Phbbttt

At some point I know I had motivation. I'm proud of myself for making it to the gym four mornings this week, after sleeping through Monday's alarm, even though I was up with at least one kid every night. Wednesday morning, though, was only a 20 minute workout on the Stairmaster, but that's better than nothing. (I hate the Stairmaster and that was a miserable 154 calories burned.) The part I'm NOT proud of, though, is that I've lost that push myself feeling I think I had at one point. When I tried to repeat my interval running workout from last week, I got to the third five-minute segment and I quit after two minutes. Then yesterday and today I was on the ARC trainer and I just didn't have that incentive to kick up the intensity as much as I should have. They were still 450+ calorie workouts, so I'm not a complete slug, but they should have been better. I'm sure that some day the motivation will return, or I'm at least hopeful if not sure.

December first approaches. While we were in the midst of all the chaos of new baby, new house settling, we put off the saving money and healthy eating plan. We're having one last take-out meal tonight, tasty Chinese, and then we get back to it. Super Dad was thinking the eating might as well wait until New Year's, but if I could avoid putting on a few more pounds just to try to lose them next month, that seems like a good plan to me. We'll see how it all goes.

Alarm?

I had the alarm all set for this morning, 4:32am. (I like to get up on a number that doesn't end in 0 or 5, just a weird thing, I feel like I get two extra minutes of sleep, but 4:35am would be too late.) Well, at 5:50am, Cutie was ready to eat and where was I? Oh, still in bed. At some point I took the watch alarm off my nightstand and shoved it under my pillow. Therefore, no gym. Oh well. I'm still fighting the cold that hit me Friday, I guess my brain somehow decided I needed another morning to sleep in. Besides, it meant I got a Cutie smile to start my day and a hug from the boys, what's better than that?

"Holy 'mokes!"

As Superman would have said. This morning was an u-u-u-ugly workout. I did return to work last week and the first few days at the gym I decided I'd hit the elliptical trainer and the ARC trainer. (The ARC is some other kind of elliptical, it seems much harder) This morning I attempted a jog. Here's the workout: 4 min @ 4 mph, 5 min @ 6 mph, 3 min @ 4 mph, 5 min @ 6 mph, 2.5min @ 4 mph, 5 min @ 6 mph, 5.5 min @ 4 mph then the cool down. Yikes, I felt every bit of the 4 months I took off from the gym, and the 8 months or so it's been since I ran a step. On that last run interval the HR monitor flashed 184, I think I was going to pass out, and then the run interval was over. Thank goodness. There's the run down of my first workout related post in ages.

Now, the good stuff. Everyone seems to have made the transition to work pretty well. Cutie is resistant to a bottle but she seems to be coming around. She's a little fussy in the mornings, but SuperDad's well equipped to handle it and she's been napping in her crib these days, rather than bouncy seats and car seats like when I was home, so it's probably a good thing for everyone. Routine is good. The anticipation of returning to work was worse than the return. Two days earlier we were in Lowes, in the hardware aisle, and she looked up at me smiling and babbling and I started to cry. Then when I got up to fed her that morning at 4:15am, I cried a little, but that was the last of the tears. Now it's just back to work, and it seems like my job may have some potential to be a less miserable place than my previous job, so maybe this is all working out.

Tomorrow is truly a day for Thanksgiving at our house full of blessings, happy turkey-day wishes to all.

Bragging

Look at the family I'm blessed to call my own. That's just the best reason in the world to get up in the morning.

And now, workouts will start this week as I return to work. It might be painful, it will be ugly and you'll hear about all of it.

The next couple days will be tough, I've started dwelling on how happy I've been at home and how my biggest dream right now would be to be home with the kids. However, we've made the possible sacrifices so that SuperDad could be home with the kids. It was a priority for us that one of us be at home, there's no way we could afford for me to be the one. Most days I can focus on the fact that we're doing what's best for the kids and my part of that right now is to go to work and provide for the family financially. Many times I lose sight of that, I pout, I sulk, I resent SuperDad and become grumpy and whiny. That may never go away, but I know that the hours I'm away from the kids aren't what will define their childhoods. My dad worked full time and I don't remember feeling like he wasn't there for us growing up. With my flex schedule I'm home by 4pm most days, not everyone can do that, I've still got hours with the kids before my ridiculously early bedtime, right after theirs. It's just what has to be done and like a good triathlete it's time to suck it up and work through it, transition time.

I'll be back soon.

Operation 7-11

Today was the day I would have returned to work if Cutie arrived on her due date. Thanks to her late arrival I've got another ten days until I return. I anticipate some tears next Thursday when I go back, and the kids might cry, too. I'm trying not to think about it for the next nine days.

My sister called last month to tell me that she's engaged. She's been dating her fiance for about 14 months now and they moved in together in September. I'm thrilled for her, he's a great guy and the boys already love their new uncle. He's about 6'4" (she's 6' tall) and was a football player in college, they think he's a riot and he's great fun for physical games since he can easily bench press both the boys. Anyway, today she's signing a contract for the reception on July 11th. She's warned me that as a member of the large bridal party (I'm one of EIGHT women), I will be wearing a strapless dress. So here's the scene, I am currently 168 pounds with a 35" waist, 40" hips, a 41" chest and 23" thighs- a solid size 10, pushing the 12 side. I know I've got to lose weight. In my mind I'd like to lose 28 pounds, the 10 pregnancy pounds still hanging around and then the 18 pounds I had wanted to lose before getting pregnant, but didn't. I was 140 pounds when I got married, but that was eight years and three kids ago, so I'm not sure it's realistic. That would be 3.5 pounds a month, or one pound a week or so. I know that I tend to hold on to some weight while nursing and Cutie will likely still be nursing in July, so I'm going to work more on feel than numbers.

The only thing (other than the necessary paycheck) I look forward to about going back to work, is the gym. I'll be back to regular workouts and my plan is that 2008 will be the year of the run. I'm planning to do my first ever stand alone 5k in April, the annual work-sponsored triathlon in August and we'll just see what the year brings other than that. I don't plan too much, life doesn't always cooperate around here, but that's part of the fun.

If...

... you told me eleven years ago that depression could pass and life was worth living...

... you told me eight years ago I would love my husband more than on the day we said "I do"...

... you told me five years ago "I wouldn't want to be home with kids full time, I'd get bored" might just be the most wrong thing I ever said...

... you told me two years ago that some day I would be able to say I'm a (slow) triathlete...

... you told me four months ago I would have a girl and she would wear pink 90% of the time...

... you told me three months ago that we would would move into our perfect home...

... you told me yesterday that I could be happier today...

I wouldn't have believed any of it. It's amazing how wrong I was, and I am so grateful.


A real post soon, life's gotten in the way.