Okay, so I am not really fat, per se. I did, however, put on a few pounds at the height of bathing suit season and I am not digging it. The other day I put on a new(er) pair of super cute capris that I just bought and they felt a bit snug. Did they shrink? So, I threw on another (older) pair. Nope, these were just as tight.
Onto the scale I went. 4 mystery pounds. Fan-freaking-tastic. I am officially on my way to having a muffin top (and we all know how sexy that bakery product looks popping out of a pair of jeans).
Now, I mentioned that I am cheap. Like, coupon-clipping-simply-because-food-just-tastes-better-35%-off-not-because-I-can’t-afford-it super cheap. So, not only am I too cheap to go buy new summer clothes when I just bought some, I am also too cheap to actually pay for a fitness class of any sort and even if I trusted those sheisty diet pills…I am entirely too cheap to pay for them, either. What is a girl to do, right? That tankini that I scoffed at is looking better and better. And if I wasn’t so bloody cheap…I might even consider it. But alas, I just cannot help it. I am a bonafide thrift monster and I bought a suit a month ago so I am just going to have to get my chunky butt back into it (baby spare tire or not).
Since I cannot even begin to imagine spending the money to sign up for an actual class, and I once considered myself quite the yoga guru, I decide to just youtube some yoga videos, shake the dust off of the old mat, and make this magic happen like I did in my twenties.
Ha ha ha (head back, jiggly belly laugh) ha.
You know what I have now that I did not back then? A toddler. A wild, crazy, demanding toddler that is used to my days and nights centering around catering to his every whim and want.
And so this is what a half hour of Body Flow yoga looks like with Jp present:
Downward facing dog.
“I hungee.” Get up and make peanut butter sandwich even though he just had one 15 minutes ago. There is no arguing with the bottomless pit that I gave birth to.
“Mamma!? Mamma! Mamma!” Get up. “Yes, Jp?” He wants nothing. Stifle the momentary urge to sell him on the black market.
Breathe in and expand. Triangle pose.
“Aaaaaaaaaah!” Run in to find him underneath his rocking horse. Christmas crackers. Did you really have to scream like that? It weighs a pound and a half.
Feel your center and plant your feet and push into a deep…
*Loud crash from the next room jolts me from an already precarious pose*
Seriously, kid? Are you the same child that will sit down with an electronic and ignore me for well over an hour like I am not even in the room? What is going ON in there?!
Go into his room. Put the fallen lamp back on the table. Plead uselessly for him to pretty, pretty, pretty please just watch The Hungry Caterpillar for 20 more minutes. Please.
Warrior three pose.
He comes in and yanks on my shaky leg and we topple to the floor in a heap.
That is it! I give up! How am I supposed to get my Namaste on if you won’t give me 30 minutes of peace, for goodness sakes!?
Anyone else down for some midnight yoga? 😉
I'm just living minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.