Crosspost Much?

The Captain came home and said to me "Do you have anything nice to wear?" I suppose that sounds a little insensitive but I knew what he meant, especially since I've been living in cotton shorts and t-shirts for the past 2 months. Thinking there is a function I need to be at I say "I suppose I could find something," knowing full well I do not own anything that fits beyond my bathrobe. He says, "Good, I want to take you out."

Insert shocked face.

But here's my problem, I really don't have anything that fits. You think I'm kidding. I have sweats and The Captain's t-shirts and if I must leave the house I wear my maternity jeans and one of two tops that I recently bought just so I would have SOMETHING. The second I get home I put the sweats back on.

When I lost 40 pounds during the last deployment I got rid of all my "fat clothes" vowing to never be that size again. I had gained a few pounds back and was determined to get back to my old routine during this deployment and be better than ever. I hadn't counted on getting pregnant and I certainly hadn't counted on not being able to diet or exercise for 9 months and then 6 weeks after. I let go.

The day of my 6 week postpartum visit my doctor told me I had no restrictions and I hit the ground running. I went to the gym that afternoon. I went to the grocery store and started my diet. I was on fire. It lasted a week.

So now here I am feeling sorry for myself again, finding it very difficult to get to the gym on a regular basis with a new baby and nearly impossible to stick to a diet when my meals are determined by when Mister lets me eat. I went to my closet to see what in the world I could wear when my wonderful husband (who loves me and understands and doesn't care that I am a whale, but supports my efforts) takes me out. I know none of it fits but I decide to commit suicide and try some things on anyway. "It's a reference point," I tell myself. At least if I go into it expecting it to be the equivalent of stuffing an elephant into a Maserati maybe I won't cry.

I gained 35 pounds during my pregnancy, which is perfectly acceptable. I felt good about that until 10 weeks later I am only 13 pounds less than I was when I delivered. Mister was 7lbs, plus water, plus placenta... you get the idea. I haven't lost an ounce. Actually, I think I've gained weight since I had him. But here's my goal: I want to get back to my original goal weight that I had during the first deployment which means losing 36 more pounds. Since I've been allowed to diet and exercise (notice I said 'since I've been allowed' and not 'since I've been doing it') I've lost 4.

It's a start, I suppose. I just hope the next 4 don't take so long.