Ah, approaching the 4 month mark. Everything they say is true – bub becomes a little more settled, starts babbling nonsense (but still makes more sense than the lady at Centrelink when I was sorting out my paid parental leave) and things become more fun.
Yes fun, motherhood seems to be promoted as this martyred-fall-on-your-sword-give-up-your-life-and-pelvic-floor-no-more-alcohol-only-tummy-time-shit-I-forgot-enrollment-in-elite-drastically-overpriced-school-when-he-was-an-embryo-now-too-late-argh! role, and don’t get me wrong, you do give up a lot of stuff, but it is fun.
I might add that I am posting this blog after an excellent 6km run, so obviously endorphins have taken over my mind…
I’ll add in yesterday’s workout too, which I didn’t post then because I didn’t have full function of my limbs.
5 rounds in ~25 mins:
- 12 sumo high pulls
- 12 push ups (feet on fitball)
- 12 pull ups 10kg assist (I feel like a lame ass using assist again but otherwise it would have been 12 reps of everything else and 2 of pull ups, and I like to keep things tidy. OCD? Never. Hold on while I go switch the light on and off 12 times…)
- 12 sit ups 3kg medicine ball
- 12 knees to chest
Awesome workout. Abs killing today, which is fine because frankly it’s reassuring to know I still have some… there… hidden away… under the remaining flab.
Oh wait, I’ll do what they do in pregnancy/baby magazines and not call it ‘flab’… it’s the “BADGE OF MOTHERHOOD”. Because when you rename your fat, it makes it all OK.