I know what you're thinking...but no, Lt hubby isn't home. Stand down soldier...Zorro will ride again soon enough! What I AM talking about requires a lot less mmm's and ahh's and a whole lot more ohh's and uggg's. I've been sweating and panting, and panting and sweating...and none of it has left me in a very euphoric state of mind. Oh I am still plenty light-headed once the deed is done, but the work it took to get that "after glow" was a lot more "work" and a lot less "fun" than the other thing I know you're thinking!
Creating, and the subsequent housing of said creation, for 40 weeks takes a toll on one's body...well, not just any one...it took a toll on me, my body...and I'm not fond of the "new" body that was bestowed upon me after my loving creation fled the premises. I realize every mama has to deal with the aftermath of "creation", but we don't have to like, love it, or want more of it! I'm on a mission to bid adieu to the new and a hello to the old. Unfortunately that mission takes a lot, LOT longer than I would like. I'm an immediate gratification kind of girl!
I've dusted off my treadmill and workout DVDs and have made a delayed New Year's resolution: "Get in Shape, girl!" (please, tell me some of you remember that particular product from our youth!!). I'm ready to kick butt and take names...unfortunately my mind and body have different ideas. My muscles are stiff, inflexible, and a little creaky. No pain, no gain is my daily mantra because I can barely move! This tin lady needs some oil! I'm pretty sure my leg muscles atrophied during pregnancy because touching my toes seems to be an impossible feat (I blame this on the inability to reach them for 7 months...I just simply quit trying...and now, I'm paying the price!). And my abs give an audible groan when I attempt to challenge their resistance to "bounce back". The a** seems to have gone south for the winter and is refusing my phone calls, and my once shapely arms are flapping more than I would like to admit.
It's truly a sad state of affairs in my kingdom especially since my oldest warned me not to break a hip as I attempt to reclaim my inner athlete. So bring on the squats and lunges, welcome in the push-ups and pull-ups, and I will greet the treadmill with a smile. I have clothes to get back into, after all...clothes for which Lt. hubby has spent some hard-earned money! Plus, swimsuit season is on parade around the corner...and it scares the hell out of me! No child should be subjected to the pale whale beached at the edge of the pool! As I search to find the most flattering, miracle bathing suit (for $200!!), I comtemplate the idea of a head-to-toe alternative. Truly, there's nothing in this world that can crush a mama's self esteem like trying on a swimsuit.
So sweat shall be my new body spray; grunting, groaning, and gasping for air will be echoing from my basement; the zumba will beckon my name...Brazilian butt-lift will be my friend...and flirty girl fitness better guarantee results!