The Weight Of Motherhood
I’m a frustrated new Mum. Having a three-month-old means I’m not as free as I used to be and I’m struggling with that a bit, particularly because, at the moment, what I’d really like to do is try to get back into some type of ‘shape’. Does that sound vain? Selfish? Well, so be it. I’m just being honest. Only a small part of my wardrobe fits me. All my other clothes are in a plastic tub in the garage – how I’d love to open that tub and release them! I’m happy to admit it; this is an issue for me. Not a big issue in the grand scheme of things you understand, but still, an issue. So I have to confess to being envious when a colleague – a Mum of three older kids – tells me about her latest fitness activities. (I envy Mums of older kids – their kids are not tied to them the way little ones are, so they are freer, right?) My colleague is doing a training program with her son to build up to running 5kms. She has also signed up to an eight-week course to learn skills to join in ‘bunch rides’ (no, I didn’t know the term either – it refers to those groups of lycra cyclists you see pacing the roads of a morning). Now I realise I am comparing myself to a pretty dedicated fitness freak here, but you know what I mean. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not resenting my baby over this. I’m delighting in my new-Mum status and everything is rosy thanks very much. It’s just a slightly nagging twitch of when I might return to the life I once had – looking for signs that those extra ounces of freedom I once enjoyed might return. And those extra ounces of my silhouette might disappear. Stay tuned!