I never used to eat burgers. I didn't even like them. I still don't like them all that much. And yet, I find myself eating burgers these days...quite a bit more often. Like yesterday. And today. And fries, lets not forget those. I have those even more than burgers. And I'm embarrassed to admit that we can't even drive by a Sonic or McDonalds without Ella screeching "FRIES!" from the backseat, even from a dead sleep. Or so it seems.
When I was hideously pregnant I would promise myself once this baby came I would become an ATHLETE. Zar got a real kick out of that. I would say "Once I'm not hideously pregnant I will run and lift and rise early in the morning to do so, arriving home just as my husband leaves for work and my babies awake, and I will glow. I will smile, pat my face dry and attack my day feeling like a goddess." Turns out life didn't get easier once the giant belly was gone. Turns out it's much more busy, strangely. And turns out I value sleep, far, FAR more than I do a chilly power walk.
I am also concerned for Ella, who can spend the entire day camped out on the couch demanding a steady diet of Minnie, Elmo, and fruit snacks. I would say "Well, her sister is in the NICU" or "Well she has a snotty nose" or "Well we had a hard night" and I would let this happen. (She inherited this from dad; I am not a lover of TV. Not all day TV anyway.) But in the summer I would take her to the park nearly every day I had off and let her play for hours while I lounged with Ava under the weight of my terrifying belly. It was a grand summer, even under the circumstances. And afterwards Ella would sleep for hours, and sometimes, so would I.
Now it is miserable and cold. Yesterday I got desperate, loaded up my brood and took them to "The Indoor Park", aka, Arctic Circle, where Ella ran between the slide and our table to get another fry. Yes she was active, but really? We left covered in fry sauce and general fast food grubbiness. And yet, we went back today again, this time with a friend and her son, and I had ANOTHER burger and pile of fries. A spinach smoothie each morning probably does not counteract this. And yes, carrying two infant seats and an oxygen tank in and out is a work out, and looks quite pathetic...but I wouldn't say I broke a sweat.
So my goal, now, in this strange new world of triple motherhood/special needs motherhood/trying to eventually go back to work, is not to Become An Athlete, but just not to gain 30 lbs. I logged back into the ole Weight Watchers, the only thing that has even really worked for me, and found they have totally changed their program which is just too exhausting for me to figure out right now. And they don't have low point items at Arctic Circle. I have delved back into my extensive workout dvd collection, choosing Cindy Crawford's "Shape Your Body" circa 1992, a classic, yes, but did we ever really think, even in high school, that Cindy got that bod doing leg swings and side bends? Plus leg swings become more difficult with two mobile children and a lot of tubes and wires snaking about my living room.
I will continue to look for solutions. Could I have done a few scissor arms and small twists during this rare triple nap instead of blogging about burgers? Yes. But one must have priorities. And maternity pants are really quite cozy.