On why I am turning into a gym freak...

Two women are responsible for my gym-freakishness, in an indirect sort of way.

I know this is going to sound slightly neurotic, but we all need to let our crazy out every once in a while, right?  Here we go...

One of my neighbor's partner left her.  Well, her and her two 13 month old twins.  Just came home from work one Friday night, said he wasn't happy any more, packed a suitcase, and left.  She didn't hear from him for absolutely ages, and got stuck with no job, no money, no man, and two kids to care for.  Did she give in?  Well, maybe a little bit, but only for a few months.  Now, two years later, she is fighting fit, sassy, and absolutely gorgeous.

And another acquaintence, she has two older kids and her marriage was kind of on the rocks.  She had another baby, maybe in an attempt to save her marriage.  I really couldn't say.  But her husband left when the baby was just a few weeks old, and she fell to pieces.  But only for a little while.  Then she picked up the pieces and got herself together.  Now she is dressing all cute, she got her driving license, a new job, and she's so happy.

I think both of these women let themselves go.  Then the men in their lives left them.  I think there's a reason that you call it "letting yourself go" when you stop caring.

Letting yourself go isn't just about putting on some weight and not doing your hair and make-up.  Letting yourself go is about forgetting who you were before you were married with children.  It really is letting go of yourself and forgetting all the things that you used to love to do and the friends you used to have.  And when you let yourself go, well, it seems like the man in your life lets you go as well.

I used to be totally confident in my marriage to Martin.  I know that he loves me, and I know that he loves the kids.  But I used to know that he loved me more than anyone else and why on earth wouldn't he?  Now, well, I'm starting to be that paranoid woman who is worried that she can't keep her man.  I think I've let myself go, and in more than just the physical sense.

So here I am slaving away at the gym at least 4 times a week, trying to re-gain a sense of who I am.  Trying to get myself back together BEFORE I lose my man.  So I can stay happy and confident and not lose my family.  Because the thing is, once these two women's partners left them, they found themselves.  They became the women that they were before.  I want to become the woman that I was so I can keep my happy marriage and be happy with myself as well.

Not that I am suggesting that Martin and I are struggling.  I still adore him, and still think that marrying him is the best thing I ever did.  Truth be told, we don't see each other often enough to be struggling.  But a few months ago a "friend" of mine suggested that Martin might be straying, and my old neurosis reared it's ugly head.  I thought that if she was seeing this, maybe I wasn't crazy for thinking these thoughts after all. 

It's not him.  It's me.  It's always me.

But my gym addiction can't do any harm.

Two milestones in as many days...

Dylan drew a tree yesterday.

Ok, so I know that doesn't seem very exciting, but it's the first time he's drawn an abstract  visual representation of something that actually exists.  AND he wrote his name next to it.  The tree is actually pretty amazing, and the writing attempt pretty dismal.  But I am seriously excited that he did both.  This is a fairly major developmental milestone.  Art as representation of the world around us is what distinguishes us from cavemen.  My son can think in a sophisticated way!

And Edith, not to be left behind, has started doing something amazing as well.  Most of you probably know that she is a very slow talker compared to her big brother.  He was speaking in (totally intelligible) full sentences by the time he was 22 moonths, and she mostly just babbles.  But she can fill in the end words of "There was an old woman who lived in a shoe..."  Some of the words aren't totally clear, but she says them consistently.  Which only confirms my suspicion that she has been speaking all along--we just can't understand her!  But she gets a little clearer and a little better every day.  I can't wait for her to be able to speak properly, because I have a feeling that she has some pretty funny things to say!

(BTW, I wrote most of this post yesterday but couldn't publish it because we are having issues with our laptop power cord--again!)

It's official...

After over 4 years of being either pregnant or breastfeeding a child, I am done.

Edith has been off the "mama milk" for a full week now.  She still cries and asks me to feed her (in jibberish), but I am so finished.

Dylan is on his half term break from school and I am trying to make sure we do something fun every day, just because we can.  On Monday we went to Doncaster and took the kids swimming at the Dome.  It's our favorite pool ever.  Then today, Christine and I took the kids to The Deep.  Tomorrow we will go to Normanby Hall if the weather is nice.  Thursday is currently free, but Friday is the Ward activity night and Saturday will probably be a visit to the 20/21 gallery in Scunthorpe and maybe the Pink Pig Farm.

I'm tired already!

Wordless Wednesday...

Wordless Wednesday...

Still a regular gym bunny...

Well, it's February and the eating habits/gym habit are still going strong.  Maybe now I'm not just a deluded New Years health fanatic and people can start taking my exercise regime seriously?

I can now run a mile in just 6 minutes 37 seconds. Not in real life, mind you.  Only on the cross trainer. But it sure beats my mandatory one-mile high school run time of about 9 minutes 54 seconds (I can't even begin to tell you how many times I faked an asthma attack to get out of that run.  I LOATHE running).  I'm pretty proud of that mile time, even if it is in an artificial environment and I am totally knackered afterwards.

I have increased my weight and reps on most of the machines I use, and have moved to free weights for my biceps and triceps.  My upper body is starting to look good, but it gets a little bit scary right around my belly button.  That will take more hard work and some surgery to correct.

I'm still waiting for that extra energy that supposedly comes from working out.  I'm still just tired.  But I feel happier. I'm still not happy with my body, but I'm satisfied that I'm doing something about it.