First of all, a big patronizing pat on the back for ME! You wanna know why? Because I did Turbo Sculpt and got through the whole sweaty, agonizing 50 minutes WHILE my daughter was awake and in the same room. It was Toddler Jam time in my house, and she lifted 2 pound weights, did squats and got down on the floor with me and did ab work. Intermittently she would sigh, wipe her brow and say "whew, this is too hard," and switch to tending to her baby dolls, but that was fine with me. And I didn't even mind that I had to pause the DVD a few times to help her put a shirt on her dolly, change a doll's diaper and wipe up spilled orange juice from the cup she found in the kitchen. I may be on to something here. If I can get her to work out "with" me, maybe I can actually make time every day to do it. Wouldn't that be a miracle? What I would give to see my waistline again and to be able to wave without worrying about my jiggling arms hitting someone in the head.
And I have been pondering something...how much do you think I would have to exercise in order to be able to eat anything I wanted and still lose weight? I know you've all wondered. So many times I have heard those skinny bitches, I mean atheletic moms, say that they eat whatever they want because they run seventeen kazillion miles a day or attend hot sauna yoga-lates five times a week. If they can do it, so can I right?
It's just a thought. And it's not like I want to eat 3,000 calories a day and be a skinny bitch. You know, a carton of Ben and Jerry's here and there and some Oreos or chocolate chip cookies on a daily basis would work for me. Oh yeah, and don't forget the one or two glasses of red wine at night. I want to be able to indulge myself in the foods that I love (MMM..pasta, bread, FRENCH FRIES!) without wanting to kill myself after ingesting them. Is that so much to ask? How much of my day would I be willing to sacrifice to working out in order to have this ability? I'm not sure, but I am willing to look into it.
Changing gears. I just realized that most of my posts have to do with weight loss and self-image. I suppose this says a lot about me, eh? (That was my Canadian accent for my friends up north. I like to mix it up and make everyone feel at home.) I hope that my obsession with these issues isn't boring to my audience, but they always say "write what you know," so I guess that's what I know. I hope I don't have to change the blog's name to The Wise (Fat) Mommy or The Wise (Neurotic and Obsessed) Mommy. But the day will come when I am no longer young, so the name will have to be changed eventually. I am hoping at that point I will still be smokin' hot and will have reached all my weight loss goals and I can name it The Wise Cougar Mommy (makes sexy purring sound--(even though I can't even do that in real life)).
Well, I have digressed. The point of the post is that my 2-year-old is now a fitness junkie in training and I'm pretty pumped. I will look at this as mother/daughter bonding, not that I am passing on my neurotic obsessions to the next generation. That will make me feel better about it, I think. God forbid I send my baby to therapy where she tells her therapist that her mother forced her to tone and sculpt at such a young age that she can't even look at a barbell without needing a Xanax.
*Sigh. Keeping your kids out of therapy is tough man!
Love bestowed and love denied: the toddler years
23 hours ago