Since my last post, I got a lot of feedback from people who said they could relate to my story about my battle with eating issues.  I am so glad that I was able to reach out to people who may have struggled in the past or are struggling now.  That said, I really wish that I was not such a hypocrite.  I am really frustrated about the fact that my body has not changed since I wrote that post about 7 weeks ago. I know I am still only 3 months post partum and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but I really am not used to having a jiggly belly.  I want to wear pants with buttons.  I still have to wear maternity pants to work because all my dress pants are really small.  Note to self: If you are not pregnant, and don’t want to look pregnant, don’t wear maternity pants. Yikes.  Getting dressed for work in the morning almost puts me in tears because I feel like I only have about 3 outfits that fit me.  Not to mention I can’t really wear dresses because I have to pump while at work and I don’t feel like being half naked sitting at my desk (in my office- door closed!) with my dress around my neck. Awkward.

I really didn’t worry about the scale for a while because as I mentioned before, the number isn’t all that matters to me anymore.  What does matter is how I feel and also, to be honest, how my clothes fit.  I really felt I was getting to a place where I felt strong and secure, but that all stalled out a few weeks ago and quite frankly, I know the culprit- my diet.  I don’t use the term diet in the sense of limiting what I eat.  Rather, I mean that my diet, or lack thereof, is holding me back in a lot of ways.

About a year ago, I posted about how you are what you eat.  I seriously wanted to commit myself to eating healthier and setting a better example for Super Girl and Super Toddler.  They are actually pretty good eaters.  They love broccoli, beans, squash, zucchini, and asparagus.  But, and MAJOR but here, they are also carbaholics like their mom.  I did pretty well sort of ok with the cleaner eating until I got preggo with Super Baby last summer/fall.  Then it was all downhill, which is exactly what you don’t want to do when pregnant.  You are supposed to nourish your growing baby with the good stuff, not Bojangles.

I continued eating poorly after she was born, and after I started legitimately working out again at about 6 weeks post partum.  In the interest of full disclosure, here is a sampling of my daily meals: Breakfast- Cinnamon Life Cereal mixed with Honey Nut Cheerios (not a trough full, just a regular sized bowl.  Still, probably about 3 servings worth if I was measuring out actual suggested servings) with 2% milk, a big glass of water, and a Diet Pepsi.  Stop judging me already! Lunch- A Beach Club from Jimmy John’s.  It has turkey, ham, lettuce, tomato, provolone cheese, and mayo.  I go easy on the mayo and cheese, so it’s probably only like 200 calories worth instead of 300.  Another Diet Pepsi.  Seriously, I know I have issues.  Snack- an apple, Cheezits, and maybe a 2% Fage yogurt. Dinner- whatever Super Dad makes (on a good day).  Most days- pizza, some sort of salad with Ranch dressing, or pasta.  Some days- a couple scoops of frozen yogurt. Or a bowl of grapes, strawberries, or blueberries on a good day. I am truly HORRIFIED actually reading this.  There is nothing good about this, except the days when Super Dad cooks tilapia, squash, zucchini, eggplant, and rice for us.  But with three kids and full time jobs, delicious gourment meals from my personal man chef are farther and fewer between.  I can’t complain because I squat, but I don’t do squat.

There really is no point in beating myself up over my terrible eating choices for the past, oh, 10 months. It’s water under the bridge. But my bad habits are rubbing off on the Super kids.  Super Girl pretty much expects dessert every day, even if it is just one small piece of chocolate.  I am pretty sure the first two words that Super Toddler strung together were “cheesy puff.” I am dead serious, but can at least sort of put the blame on my neighbor who ALWAYS has Cheetos around.  Man those things are good.  Anyway, I have had to put the kaibosh on the dessert and snacks which means that I also can’t eat that stuff every day either, because what kind of mom would I be if I tell them “do as I say, not as I do”?  I don’t want to set them up for having body issues like me, or an unhealthy relationship with food.

Also, I feel like CRAP. I mean, it doesn’t help that I can only sporadically count on a full night’s sleep and that I am trying to squeeze in the following on a daily basis: 1) raising three kids, 2) working out, 3) a full time job, 4) a new side job for an amazing company that I am totally in love with, 5) keeping up with the Kardashians, 6) hanging out with my girlfriends, and 7) not totally neglecting the incredible Super Dad. Phew, I am tired just reading that. Side bar- #humblebrag much? Beside the whole Kardashians thing.  I am 100% certain that the way I am eating is doing absolutely nothing to improve my energy level or the skin tightedness (I know that’s not a word) of my clothing. It’s a vicious circle. I’m tired, so I make bad eating choices, which makes me more tired, which sometimes causes me to skip a workout.  If I don’t skip a workout, it’s usually not a very good one.  And I’m even more tired, so I eat poorly again. Plus, don’t they say that abs are made in the kitchen, not the gym? If that’s true, then throw an apron on me because I need to get in the kitchen.

So it’s all on the table now.  I started my day with my cereal cocktail before my morning workout.  I mean, I burned all those carbs off right? I had a fresh pressed juice from Raleigh Raw after my workout, and I felt so incredible all day that I ran 10 miles after work.  Psych.  I know it’s going to take a while, and I don’t know if I am capable of giving up all my vices cold turkey, but I’m committing myself to it this time around because I can’t afford new pants.  And I can’t afford to continue setting a bad example for my family.