After I gave birth to Gracie, I'd basically been pregnant for two years and reality set in fast. Not to worry, all the other mothers assured me, you will be so busy you won't have TIME to eat. The weight will come off Clearly, these mothers did not know me at all. My husband had not dubbed me "Anne the ice-cream animal" for nothing.
And yet...over the last five months and half months...my jeans have slowly started to fit again. Given the fact that I haven't so much put on a running shoe since Gracie Harris entered this world, I started to wonder how this phenomenon was occurring. Possibly I had a tapeworm?
Yesterday, the light bulb started to go off. Parke, Gracie, and I and were on our way to a birthday (pool) party when we made a quick stop at the grocery store. To make a very long story short:
We needed to bring adult beverages to the party
Parke was the only person in the car with an ID
Parke had to take a very long work call, for which he needed his computer hooked up to the car
Gracie started screaming her head off and would only stop if she had continuous movement
So for forty-five minutes, I walked laps around the Harris Teeter parking lot in my bathing suit with a sleeping fifteen pound infant on my shoulder. I got some strange looks. I was really dreading what would happen if anybody asked what I was doing..."Yes, see my husband is working in that air conditioned car right there...and we can't leave because we want a beer...but I promise we are very fit parents."
But there you have it. With nary a running short in sight (and in a bathing suit no less), I got a forty-five minute workout in, with weights! Glamorous, no. Effective, yes.
So, if I am blessed and lucky enough to be a mama again some day, this is a reminder to myself...enjoy, eat up...and remember... just wait, and it's just weight.
Jolly Old. St. Anne...1/4 Gracie, 3/4 Anything I Could Get My Hands On