Countdown to the Beach -- Yikes

I realized today that our annual beach trip with a bunch of friends (and kiddies) to the outer banks is a mere 2 ½ months (or 11 short weeks) away. This also means that I will soon be faced with the arrival of shorts and swim suits season – sooner rather than later here in Dixie. Unfortunately, I will likely be dragged kicking and screaming from my jeans and boxy sweaters – it’s 75 today and I’m hanging tough with jeans and an over-sized long-sleeve t-shirt. The problem, you see, is that it turns out that having a 2nd baby and c-section at the age of 38 is not so great for one’s figure (let alone your ability to do basic things such as comb your hair or put on make-up)

When I had Joey, I gained 35 pounds but luckily managed to take most of it off in about 3 months and was able to regain some semblance of my old self. Not so with baby #2. Sure, I naively thought I was doing great when I managed to gain LESS weight with Abby – I left the hospital giddy with anticipation of fitting into my old clothes by Christmas – and I also assumed that left me some room to satisfy my chocolate addiction. Silly me. Sure, my stomach had never QUITE returned to its former (never-glorious) but reasonably flat self after Joey, but I was never much the bikini-type anyway. Well, this time around has been a rather rude awakening to my approaching middle-age and what carrying out in front will do to you. You see, I am STILL 12-15 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight (depending on the day). I have been on Weight Watcher’s since the start of the New Year and have only managed to lose only a paltry 8 pounds. That’s maybe a pound a week if I’m lucky – and that has included me trying to cram in some exercise in the form of walking any day I can manage it. You’d think that I could count hauling a whiny 2 ½ year old and chunky little 13+ pound formula vacuum around with me at ALL times (I swear I only have about 2 hours a day when I am not holding a child) as exercise, but it doesn’t seem to be having much affect. Also, even when I do manage to wake up looking only 2 months pregnant, after I eat breakfast (or a freaking tootsie roll for that matter) I immediately pouch out like I am five months pregnant. I’m guessing after a day or two of drinking at the beach I’ll look like I am ready to deliver again (only this time it will be a case of Blue Moon).

So, I’ve watched the days of winter and big bulky clothes slip all too quickly away towards the dreaded summer clothes which will now display my post-baby flab, newly acquired varicose veins and shiny white skin in all their glory – and I am not a happy camper. The other issue is that I have REFUSED to buy new clothes in a bigger size so I have been wearing the same 3 outfits for the past four months. I suspect the neighbors are starting to wonder why I don’t seem to own anything beyond a two pairs of old baggy jeans (sadly borrowed from my mother who lost weight and is now wearing my old clothes that I can’t fit into) and 3 long-sleeved t-shirts. They are probably frantically nominating me for “What Not Wear”. I fear that I may be forced into a shopping trip that will no doubt throw me into a serious state of depression after having to not only buy larger clothes, but also view myself in the never-flattering dressing mirrors/lighting. I am considering a mumu for the beach – or at the very least one of those attractive reinforced pointy-boob, tummy panel and skirt bathing suits that our mothers always wore (and I now understand why).

I've sent a plea to the other women going to the beach with us to please le their thin and in-shape selves go a bit so that when I am lying next to them on the beach, small children don’t run up and try to roll me back into the ocean in an effort to save me yelling “Quick, before it dies!” (like I’ll really make it to the actual beach with a 2 year old and a 7 month old).

In the meantime I will continue to plug away on my weight-watchers. I currently thank a higher power every day for the invention of the one-point chocolate snack cake – although it unfortunately turns out that if you eat 10 of them, its still 10 points.

While I'm at it... yesterday's quote of the day from Joey while we were driving home from the airport after picking up his Daddy (we had the windows open):

Daddy, shut the window so I can hear mommy!