Um, Wow…

What do you get when you cross a long-distance move, a month living in a hotel, an ever-changing closing date on your house, improvements to said house, four kids and homeschooling in a rather homeschool unfriendly state?

Fifteen or more squishy pounds. I’m right back to where I started.

It’s humiliating, but my clothes are pretty forgiving so I didn’t notice too much. More than anything, I feel sluggish and I miss the gym. I had a hard time finding a gym with childcare, and I held off on joining the gym I could find because the child care started too late in the morning.

Sure, I could workout at home, but I DO NOT have the self-discipline to work out at home. I belong in a gym. Today I decided that I would suck it up and join a gym, going in the afternoon instead of the morning (the late child care time interferes with school).

I brought up to my husband that I’d like to start working out again because I feel like a lump. Later I made a crack about being fat, and MY HUSBAND STAYED SILENT. He agreed with my observation. He then said, “Well, I’d still do you, and that’s the standard… Although it’s not a bad thing to exceed the standard.”

It got awkward and quiet, until I said, “Okay, this awkward. So, how much did you have to drink?” He answered that he had had quite a bit.

My sister has said a few times, “A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.”

I’m devastated. It’s not like I’m so large I need to go to a tent-maker to buy clothes, and I’m not even in the women’s plus section. I’m not a super model, but I’m not a beached whale either. I could cry.

So, I guess I’m reviving this dead blog. But don’t worry, I’m not a Beachbody coach any more, so I won’t irritate you with the annoying, “Buy this workout! Buy this shake*!” It’ll just be me, trying to look better so I know I’m not a disappointment to my husband.


*I actually really, REALLY like the shakes, and I still drink them for the vitamins, but I won’t be all irritating about it since I’m not selling it.