If you have read any of my previous postings, you probably know I’m working on getting rid of the pregnancy weight gain. This has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. Hopefully, this month I will show some serious improvements. I’m focusing on spinning 4 days a week. Let me just say, if this doesn’t make my huge butt go away, then I’m at a loss. My new daily ritual starts with a 7 am spin class at Lotus Kitty in Studio City. Sadly, morning time is my favorite time of the day with Maggie. She laughs and smiles as I pick her up from her crib. It really makes my heart melt.
It’s funny, everyone says 9 months on 9 months off. Which makes me feel better. My goal is to be back to my old self earlier than that, but as long as I can fit into my “goal jeans”, I’ll be happy. I always had jeans for special occasions. There are my sexy jeans, my comfy jeans, my fat jeans, and my I’m on my period jeans (which are really the same as my fat jeans). I imagine most women are like this. But when all you fit into are your fat jeans, it’s not a happy day.
Compounding the problem is, I live in LA. The stereotypes and the pressure are true. We went to Palm Springs this weekend with two other couples both with babies. The Press’s have an 8 month old and mommy Stephanie is as skinny as a still partying 22 year old rockstar. The Sacks have a 2 month old and mommy Traci is also as skinny. At dinner Traci’s husband mentions that Traci only gained 18 pounds during pregnancy. WHAT?! I almost passed out. How is this fair? I watched what I ate, and worked out consistently until my 7th month and I gained 50 pounds. I can’t imagine what I would have gained if I really didn’t obsess about my weight the entire time. I guess this goes to show you, life isn’t fair and those skinny bitches will always be around to flaunt their tight bodies in your face. (Neither Stephanie or Tracy is a skinny bitch, just skinny chics.)
So after this weekend in Palm Springs, I was back at the gym spinning my butt off. I’m feeling progress and also feel great. Plus, I can fit most of my ass into my goal jeans. Granted, my goal jeans are some hand me downs from my husband’s best friend Dan. He dropped them off while I was pregnant and my ass didn’t fit into them, but now, I can get a single cheek in them. I guess that means I’m halfway there.