Honey, Have You Seen My Pregnancy Pants?
Let’s face it. The sympathy weight is no myth.
As a 31 year old man, I am once again afraid to step on a scale. I haven’t been scared to step on a scale since returning from 30 days of leave while I was in the Marine Corps. I’ve always been on the heavy side (teetering on my max allowed weight in the Marine Corps), and even on the heavier side as a civilian, but I’ve never hit over 300 lbs.
And that’s where I’m scared I’m at.
GRANTED… I am 6’5″, so it’s not like I look like Black Santa… but I can definitely feel that I’ve put on some lbs.
(How did we even get “lbs” from pounds?” Just a question)
I can feel it in my ankles. I can feel it in my knees. I can feel it the tightening of my pants and shorts, in the shortness of breath, in the tightness in my shirts. And the fucked up part about it is, I KNOW I’VE PUT ON WEIGHT. I don’t need to step on a scale to know this. My tits look like my wife’s at this point. So why haven’t I done anything about it?
Seriously? Why haven’t I?
Well like any other person who vows to make a life change, I hit these barriers (which I’ve learned while doing homework, is a legitimate psychological term) that always seem to just keep me just way too busy; things like cleaning up what seems to be an endless amount of dog shit (literally, I have no fucking clue how these dogs shit so much), car maintenance, 4-6 hours of homework practically every day, not to mention it seems like every time I log into my class there’s a surprise paper to write or a pop quiz posted. Don’t forget the never ending housework, yard work, making dinner, taking care of bills, baby shit, yada yada yada…
It’s never ending.
And I tell myself, “I’ll wake up early to go for a little run.” Nope. After falling asleep at 12-1 am, waking up at 4:30-5 to get some type of work out in and then going through any collective variance of the above mentioned chores, is almost impossible. I tell myself, I’ll go for a run RIGHT when I get home, and then on those days for some reason, I don’t get home till 6, just to have to start on my daily home chores then homework.
I don’t know how I used to do it. I’ve lost my motivation. But I ultimately feel my motivation at the same time.
I do know this. I want to be able to hang with my little kiddo, instead of being tired all the time. I know I want to live as long as physically possible to be around for my family. Even as I sit here and write, I think to myself I could be out doing something, but I’ve been literally working all day on the nursery and re-wiring the baby’s bathroom.
See what I mean? I’m aware that’s an excuse. But it’s very real as well. I have a problem.
Plus I really really love food.
Like really love food.
It’s not like I eat all the time. In fact, I don’t even believe I’m eating more than I normally did prior to knowing their was a growing embryo inside my wife. I really can’t pin point what it is… but I do know this. I need to stop putting other shit in front of my health. I need to stop making excuses, and I need to take back control of my life.
I also need a maid and a gardener. Yeah… I think that would really make this happen.
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Posted in Dissapointment, Fear, Getting Ready, Those Odd moments...with 10 comments.
“lb” is from Latin “libra” – used to mean “scales”, and is “pound” in Neolatin/Romance languages. Congratulations on this blog!
haha… now there’s a piece of knowledge worth holding onto in case I get called up for Jeopardy!
Thanks Silva, that means a lot.
I can relate. I had a battle with weight for pretty much my whole life. I had the upper hand until fatherhood kicked in. Two weeks before my son was born, I ran half marathon. I’m pretty sure I haven’t even run 13.1 miles in total since.
Since after the Corps, I have squashed running. Even though I should really get back to it… Like really… Get back to it
If only I was 6’5 I wouldn’t have an ounce of extra weight on me. I feel your pain more than I want to. Have to work extra hard to get this extra crap off of me.
haha… and if I was 5’6″… then I would look like Black Santa…
Yeah I wish I had a maid and a gardener too! And a handyman. I put on about 20bs when we had kids, despite being a personal trainer (I was following a Do-As-I-Say-Not-As-I-Do approach with clients…), as I kept having to flake out on my own workouts due to lack of energy, and eating was just all over the place. Now the dust has settled I’m back in better shape than at 20 (now 37), train in short workouts at home or gym 2 hours a week in total, and get to pig out one weekend day each week – works for me! It’s just about finding how to best fit in eating right and training into our crazy lives. I have a blog myself where I talk about this stuff, as there are a ton of dads like us! All the best anyway man, love the blog!
I was just telling a friend, “I have the know how… I mean, I used to do this for a living in the Marine Corps” I just need to figure out what’s putting me in a negative slump and bust through that.
Whatever slump I’m in, your words are encouraging. And believe I will be reading your blog!
Thanks again Chris!
A maid would be awesome! If you think it’s bad now, wait till baby comes. My fat ass hasn’t seen the gym in over a year. I have no time and when I do manage to come up with some, I’m too tired to work out. It’s a viscous cycle. I say get your butt out now while you can; at the very least, take a walk, as often as possible. Can you and your wife take a walk around your neighborhood once or twice a week before or after dinner? Exercise is good for her and baby too! I wish the weather over here was nice enough for me to get out with the kid and take a walk, I totally would!
She would rather be in a better neighborhood, but everything you said is so money…