After a post-Christmas weigh-in I find myself with something of a problem. I am the heaviest I have ever been (including being pregnant) and I need to lose weight. Yes I’m a mummy, but this is not Baby Fat. This is Toddler Fat. Let me explain……
Call me a freak, but both times I’ve been pregnant I have lost weight. I spent the first 12 weeks feeling nauseous all the time, thereby losing weight. Then once the sickness had passed my body just seemed to turn all the food I ate into pure baby, leaving me a neat little bump and relatively slim thighs. Therefore, both times after giving birth I actually weighed less than when I had fallen pregnant. Weird.
Breastfeeding seemed to help keep the weight at bay during the early months. I stopped feeding DD1 when she was 9 months and by the time she was 10 months old I was pregnant again. And so the cycle of nausea, weight-loss and baby-growing began again. DD1 was a very late walker, so when her sister was born I had 2 children who couldn’t walk. As I don’t drive I knew I would need a decent double buggy so I bought a Phil & Ted buggy and hey presto – I suddenly had my very own work-out regime.
I walked miles with that buggy, and as each month went by the weight of my 2 children grew and grew. Often the buggy would also have bags of shopping hanging from it, to add to my cardio-vascular workout. Then, inconveniently, my children decided they wanted to walk everywhere. So I downsized to a single buggy for DD2, but it just wasn’t the same because now I wasn’t hot-footing it down the street pushing 5 stone of child-laden buggy – I was dawdling along at Toddler Pace!
Toddler pace – 1. (noun) the rate of moving (alternating between walking at the rate of a snail or running off as soon as you get near a busy road) which is carried out slowly & distractedly by a young child to the annoyance of their parent;
2. (noun) to travel at a sporadic rate in the following manner: one step forward, two steps backwards – stop to pick up a leaf or a stick – drop bag on floor – sulk or complain – stop to read letters on road signs – put an umbrella up then down, up then down – stop to read house numbers – demand non-existent biscuits – sit down on the pavement in protest – touch people’s cars – stop to stare at complete strangers or dogs – complain of a stone in your shoe – pick up a leaf or stick (repeat as necessary);
3. (noun) a manner of avoiding walking quickly which, in the extreme, can result in walking backwards from school.
So, quite frankly, it’s no wonder I’m turning into a whale. The only time I break into a sweat now is when one of my children has a tantrum or openly defies me in public, and I am cringing with embarassment. Added to which they now leave me these delicious little morsels of food (a.k.a. cold fishfingers, half eaten chips etc) on their dinner plates, which are far more tempting than the globules of baby rice or pureed parsnip of days gone by. It’s a question of mathematics dear reader – an increase in consumption coupled with a decrease in activity = 2 stone weight gain.
So now, several years after their births, I find myself needing to lose, not Baby Fat, but Toddler Fat. All this at a time when my cupboards are groaning under the weight of left-over mince pies, selection boxes, bags of peanuts, bottles of Baileys and lumps of Brie. I’ll let you know how I plan to do this is Part 2. Anyone care to join me?
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