Even though I taught six Zumba classes a week well into my ninth month (not to mention regularly push-mowed my own huge yard and literally chased after three kids), I still managed to gain fifty pounds during pregnancy.
I know ... that takes some mad weight-gaining skillz. Try not to be jealous.
So after I had Corbin in June, I was all fat and stuff, and then I lost a few pounds. Like maybe twenty. But if you're good at numbers, you'll realize that still leaves around thirty extra pounds somewhere in the vicinity of my hips and thighs and upper arms and chins and back boobs. I started upping the exercise and watched what I ate and lost like ten pounds in a week, but then I got overconfident and gained it back.
Mass consumption of cookies will do that to a person. Who knew??
I'm still teaching Zumba, but only two classes a week now. And I'm sure my class is weary of seeing my big dimpled ass, encased in stretchy-yet-clingy pants, jiggling all gelatin-like in front of their faces. So it's time for me to drop a few more pounds.
I actually decided that in October, but then it was, like, Halloween candy season. So I figured, hey, I'll just eat the Halloween candy and then be good - dietarily, I mean - until Thanksgiving. Because who can just know there are Kit Kats and Milk Duds and Reese's Peanut Butter Pumpkins lurking around their house and not eat them? I mean, really, who?
So I was totally going to be good after Halloween. But then it, like, got cold. And I mean ... cold weather demands that I bake, and make soup, and stuff my face with carbs. It's prime comfort-food season, y'all. And I'm a good cook, dammit.
So since I've come this far, I might as well wait on the diet - er, lifestyle change. Right? Because like ... Thanksgiving is next week. And I've got not one, but two delicious Thanksgiving dinners to attend. Featuring deep-fried turkey and homemade hot rolls and desserts and such.
What I'll do is, I'll splurge on Thanksgiving and then watch what I eat until Christmas. When of course I will have to bake cookies for Santa and eat the contents of my children's Christmas stockings and cook a ham with all the trimmings because hello, Christmas dinner?
After that, I'll seriously start in on losing these love handles and other wobbly bits. Okay, so maybe after New Year's because everybody knows that I can't pass up a good cocktail and some hors d'oeuvres.
But come spring, it's on!!!
... Until Easter, of course.