Those that are close to me are really getting weary of their continual invitations to my "Kelly Gering Postpartum Pity Party."
Our youngest, Claire, just turned nine-months old and well, the adage nine-months on, nine-months off is really not holding true for this mother of three. In fact, I still very much look like I'm pregnant...the proof is in the example of a recent party I attended where a woman actually put her hand on my belly and said, "Oh, baby." Let me tell you, kids, there's really no graceful way to recover from that one.
Almost weekly since about month six, I've vowed to do something...start running (I bought cool shoes), drink copious amounts of meal replacements (I spent a fortune on organic meals in can), walk the picturesque Elmwood and Field Club Trails (I've sort of held true to this one), take crazy classes at Prairie Life (Pump & Cut nearly broke me) and yes, I started an adult ballet class (there's nothing more humbling than shoving your 36-year old touche into a leotard). All of this in the hopes of dropping the weight, but really to no avail. The truth is, "I'm a chunky monkey."
Sadly, I didn't realize just how challenging it would be to live with this weight until one day I stepped on the scale and wallah, here I am. Don't get me wrong, I definitely gained weight with my first two, but it seemed to come off much faster and with less effort. I suppose we could blame it on the perils of getting older, a slower metabolism, sleep deprivation, or let's just be honest, my ridiculous addiction to all things chocolate and coffee related....oh, and my bed, when I can get a decent night's sleep.
I'm convinced that one day, I'll remember that girl that I see in the mirror...until then, this lady that's moved in will have to do...my kids and husband think she's pretty great...so, I'll just have to trust them at their word.