The last week and a half has felt oddly familiar. I’ve felt comfy, cozy and a downright chill. Following the birth of Barrett, parents would often inquire, “Don’t you just wonder what you did with all your time before having a baby?”. The first one hundred times I heard this statement my face wore a friendly smile to respond while my internal monologue would retort in a snarky tone, “No, I know exactly what I did. I took long baths. I spent entirely too long putting on makeup. I ate dairy. I ate soy. I slept all night.”. As Barrett’s infant phase seems to be passing us in the blink of an eye, my response to this question has become a bit less synical but this may also be due to the fact that my old life seems to have stumbled upon a new norm.
Over the past week, the wheels on Operation: Soy have been once again set into motion. Due to Barrett’s MSPI issues, I said “sayonara soy and dairy” nearly four months ago. Attempting to reintroduce these things into my diet made me feel like I was on the market again, searching for a suitable mate. After a failed attempt just two months ago, I was leary of the rejection I would feel if it was yet again unsuccessful. I had to mentally prepare for my first date with soy, reminding myself that if this time didn’t pan out, I could always get back out there in a month or two. I timidly introduced soy much like you take on a budding relationship … with much anticipation and anxiety. On our first date, I had some bread with soy flour in it and gave it 24 hours to see how we felt about eachother … the second date, I ate a splash of soy sauce with hydrolized soy protein and the next I didn’t specify “no soy” when out to eat … and finally, the moment of truth … soy milk. Well folks … so far, soy good! No ridiculous screaming, no red faced attacks and no green poop. I will stay sans moo milk and byproducts for a couple more months but have welcomed this old friend back into my diet with open arms and an open mouth.
Two and a half weeks ago, after much discussion and research, Adam, Barrett and I bit the bullet and joined the land of big box gym goers. Prior to having Barrett, I was pleased as punch with my stripmall gym. I loved the anonymity of Anytime Fitness and I loved the pricepoint — just $30 a month for Adam and myself. That gym and I had good times and it saw me through 7 and a half months of packin’ a preemie but alas, our times together had dramatically dwindled since Barrett joined us. There are cons for sure to the big box workout haven … it’s huge, it’s further from Casa de Brehm and of course, everyone there is tan and tiny which is just awesome for a woman toting thunder thighs and baby fat BUT I will battle the cut and cute because the gym has daycare which affords me the opportunity to sweat to the oldies during daylight.
Each day, post second feeding fiesta, Barrett and I cart off to the gym for an hour or two and let me tell you, this, for me, is like sanity in a bottle… as someone else I know said when describing something she loved recently, I would gladly open-mouth kiss the person who came up with the concept of daycare at the gym. I am happy to get Barrett out and about, give him the opportunity to look at someone else besides me and to get a little me time for momma. I know that Oprah is always looking for worthy causes and I have decided that she should start giving every mom a membership to such a place. Not only is it a beautiful thing to have the opportunity to work away at my post-baby bulge but it is also imperative that I do all that I can to keep my bp in check. The daycare allows infants to be there for up to two hours a day and I take full advantage on most occasions. I work out for 45 minutes to an hour and then I head down to the locker room and take a long, hot shower … dry my hair and then pick up Barrett… refreshed and ready to take on the afternoon. It’s a win-win … I am clean and Barrett is happy to see me return. Discovering a way to fit exercise back in my routine is spectacular and I feel less sloth-like with each day.
Most likely due to hitting the health club daily and trying pilates to rock my body, I am finally able to not only get most of my pre-preggo pants up around my legs but I can also get the button to befriend the buttonhole. Don’t let me paint the wrong picture, I still have some weird skin scrunching up around the waistband and when I sit down I have more rolls than your local bakery but I am calling it all a work in progress. And who am I kidding anyway? I didn’t exactly have a 6 pack (or 4… or 2…) or a body that would get one going (except Adam, I suppose) before Barrett so the bar is set pretty low. Regardless, I say hi to my blue jean babies who have been tucked away in a safe place for nearly a year and welcome them back into my world.
It is hard for me to believe that Barrett is already nearly 5 months young but some days, it’s even more ridiculous to imagine a day that he wasn’t a part of us. He’s such a happy little camper and I couldn’t be fonder of him if he were made out of cheese … and that is saying a lot for me. Although Barrett is a new part of our lives, it really feels as if he is just an old friend that was supposed to be with us all along.
