Losing weight

Losing baby weight is hard. I lost 12 or so pounds right away after I gave birth. That left 20 (TWENTY!) pounds that I had put on in the past 9 months that I still had to lose. And that did not include the 30 additional pounds I've been carrying since 2007 (also known as the year in which the firm completely claimed my life and soul).

But I refuse to be a fat mom. Fat moms make me sad. They pant after their children. After a while, they just give up and sit down on their fat asses and watch their children run amok. They buy clothes that are supposed to slenderize but really only magnify the fact that they are fat, they know they are fat, they bought clothes to look less fat, and their efforts were futile.

But losing post partum weight is really freaking hard. I'm sure it doesn't help that I am in my thirties and no longer a nimble youth. Teen mom I am not. And post partum hormones may have something to do with it too. All this means I have to work at it like a m*therf*cker, and me no like!

I've been speed walking in Central Park with V, like from 107th St to 63rd St, and back for months, and I dropped like, a pound. What the FREAK is that about. I bought a jogging stroller, thinking jogging is just like speed walking but faster, but I was wrong. I hate jogging. I haven't jogged for over 10 years, and I had forgotten how much I hate it. The tightening in my lungs, in my legs, can't get enough air, throat burns, need to stop! Ah nice, I have jogged a whole 4 blocks.

I'm now back on the South Beach diet, which worked for me in 2005, and using a weight loss app to track everything I eat. The app wants me to eat 1200 calories a day. One walnut is like 50 calories. Let me nibble on thee, tiny walnut. Le sigh. There is an abundance of salads in my diet. Of course, I eat salads out of the bowl on the left, instead of like the normal sized ones on the right.

Yeah, that's a mixing bowl. You can't expect me to survive on a handful of grass.