“Most Americans eat at least 10 to 30 percent more than needed, not

to survive but to satisfy psychological hunger.”

                                                                        -French Women Don’t Get Fat, pg. 8-9

Yes.  Yes, we do.  Or at least I do.  And it’s what I did yesterday. 

My eating wasn’t as extreme as what it could have been.  I didn’t clean my plate despite a strong urge to do so and I didn’t have dessert (at least not after dinner…).  But my choices, both at dinner as well as the rest of the day, were not figure-friendly.  Especially not for someone who allegedly wants to lose weight.

Generally speaking, I have lost my equilibrium.  Between working/commuting 11 hours per day, 5 days a week, spending 4 hours or so, with my baby once I get home in the evening, catching up on chores during the weekends and sleeping (a basic necessity, no?), I don’t have any time for myself.  More specifically, I don’t have time to even think about myself anymore.  I rarely look in the mirror these days other than to ensure my hair isn’t sticking straight up and I don’t have sleepies in my eyes.  My wardrobe, while prodigious and varied, is limited on a daily basis to one of three pairs of slacks and a couple of nursing tops.  Stealing 20 minutes for myself seems like a luxury these days, one I often can’t afford.  And, I guess, as a result, I eat rich foods for comfort or, I eat excessively out of laziness.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all because of the baby.  I haven’t turned into a sloth because I’m now a mom.  It’s everything.  It’s work, which takes up nearly three-quarters of my waking hours; it’s the house we’re in the process of buying (7 months after moving into the house we’re currently renting, by the way!); it’s the side business we own which requires attention now and then to keep going; and yes, it is the baby too.  He’s at that stage where he wants to touch everything, do everything and go everywhere (on foot, of course) but can’t do any of it on his own.  As a result, my husband and I are continually escorting him, his tiny hands gripping our thumbs as he wobbles along our hard wood floors.  It’s so precious to watch, yet so painful on the back!

Each day, I promise myself that I will eat mindfully and only until I am satiated but not stuffed.  Yet each day, I overindulge at meals or snack excessively.  I don’t eat poorly; rather, I eat organic, locally grown fruits and vegetables, grass-fed beef we bought from a local farmer (a side of beef, in case you’re wondering, takes up an entire 7 cubic foot deep freezer!) and home-made desserts or Nutella.  I also love indulging in wine but, my consumption being limited these days of breastfeeding my son, that’s the least of my caloric transgressions.  The problem is the portion sizes and the omnipresence of snack food everywhere I look.

Tomorrow, I plan on initiating my French challenge.  Being the most quantifiable and measurable, my intent is first to tackle the excess baby weight that still stubbornly clings to my tummy.  I have seven weeks until Kauai and I’d like to make as much headway as possible during that time towards feeling comfortable in my own skin.  I don’t expect a miracle, but I do plan on dropping 10 pounds during that time and hopefully, fitting into my old bikinis once again.  While this may seem a superficial and vain opening to my French challenge, I actually think losing some baby weight before pursuing my other objectives (listed in my first post) may actually facilitate my later success.  I firmly believe that you have to take care of yourself and feel good about yourself before you can take care of others the way they deserve to be taken care of.  I took great pains to pamper myself while pregnant so that I had ample reserves from which to draw while the baby was young and very demanding of my time.  Well, those reserves are dwindling and something has to change.  It has been 9 months since my son was born and I need to replenish.  Likewise, my husband and I invested a lot of time into our marriage before we had the baby, the hope being that the foundation we lay beforehand would see us through the early, bleary-eyed months of first-time parenthood.  It has, and we are still going strong.  But again, something has to change.  First things first, though.  First, I need to carve some mental space for my needs and my replenishment and then, back to my old self again, I can attend to the slowly waning health of my marriage.