01.24.07
Perfect angel
So remember how I said that I had lost all my baby weight? Turns out the scale I stepped on was light and I still have ten pounds left to go.
After I gave birth, I said that I would give myself until January to lose my baby fat. If I had not lost it by then, I would go on some sort of weight loss plan. I run and lift weights and eat pretty well and there is ten pounds left to lose. Ten pounds seems like the kind of thing that would be too easy to let stick around. Because I am happy with my body, and I like how I look, and because it is most of the weight I gained, and I am proud of myself. But then it might hang around and then there will be another baby and the same thing might happen and then I will be 30 and 30 pounds overweight and that just is not the story I want for my life. So I joined Weight Watchers today.
I bought an eight week program and I figure that is enough time to see if it will work for me. There are two different programs to choose from and I am going to start tomorrow.
In other news, my mother has come and gone. She was here for a couple of days. Leila performed all of her granddaughter duties by rolling over and blowing kisses and laughing and gobbling up her meals and sleeping well. That kid sure does perform well for company. She would lunge out of my arms to go to Mom, and then bat at her neck or glasses or hair, smile, laugh, blow raspberries, make gurgley baby noises and all in all, be a little angel.
She is starting to get a little bit of separation anxiety, and when she notices that I am not in front of her, starts to frantically look around. I poke my head in from the kitchen or over the couch or around the corner to tell her I am here and she smiles and laughs and flaps her arms and goes back to playing with her Nanny or uncle or whoever happens to be in front of her at the time (Milo is a particular favourite).
I am tired after a week of company, though, and look forward to spending a quiet day tomorrow enjoying the silence with my girl. I like the days that she nestles into my arms while she nurses, finishes eating but wants to stay on for a cuddle. So she sucks and pats my breast or lifts her feet in the air and grabs at her socks, but if I try to take my nipple out of her mouth, she presses her face into me and hugs my breast with her chubby arm. They are the moments that I try to sear into my memory, this perfect little angel who has blessed my life. The way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks and the way her dimpled chin feels firm but squishy when I kiss it, the way she twists on the floor to look at me upside down, and the dimples in her bum. She is perfect, in every single way. My little sweetheart.
wunderwuman at 7:56 p.m.