Once again feeling large

There was a point this summer where I was feeling pretty good. For a month or so I was running three to four times a week, Chris and I were eating really good and no ice cream was being consumed. I was six pounds away from pre-baby weight!
Then life began to conspire against me. My parents came for a visit. Those that have visited us in the last year or so know that when people come over we like to cook, so cook we did! Now this is not to give any one reason to think that I do not want or like visitors because I do but it puts a hold on any kind of diet. We ate great dinners, big breakfasts and even squeezed in ice cream one afternoon. When my parents left Sam and I got sick. Who can go running or think about eating healthy when they don't feel good and are dealing with a fussier baby? Okay, maybe some totally devoted people can, but not me. Then I had a bachelorette party for a friend. Though not more than one day of unhealthy eating and excessive drinking it gave me about three or four days of excuses not to pay attention to my diet or exercise. After that we went to Seattle and I don't think ANYONE can diet while eating out three meals a day every day and being around drinking every night. It was a blast but also not great for my figure. So here I sit feeling huge and unhappy about the turn my body has taken the last month. I look at pictures of myself from Seattle and can hardly recognize my face; it seems so blotted looking to me. But the more I think about how exciting it was before this month began to be so close to that weight that I want I also think about what it took to get there and that my time and energy just may not be in it to do that again right now. Working the two jobs that I have chosen to work keeps me busier than I expected and well, let's be honest, I'm just a pretty lazy person. So this morning I decided it was time to see the damage, to weigh myself and find out just how far I would have to go to get back to feeling good.

I'm still just six pounds from pre-baby weight! I cried. I cried not because I was happy to have not gained a pound, I cried out of anger. I wanted the scale to justify my feeling so incredibly horrible about myself. I cried because I wanted to know that there really was weight that I needed to lose and it wasn't all in my head. I cried and then got mad! I am pissed that I let my self image be so totally wrapped up in what I look like. I am pissed that I care so much about how my clothes fit and what people might be saying and the slightest visible roll. I hate that I care but I do.

I don't know where the diet and exercise are going to go from here. But soon enough there will be snow on the ground and nothing I can do about it anyway. And at that point I get to wear sweaters and put off thinking about my body till spring again anyway!

On a happier note...Sam is 6 months old! I have so many mixed emotions and thoughts about that right that I cannot even put them into words just yet. But I guess knowing that at 6 months she is a happy and healthy baby full of curiousty and joy is all that matters anyway.