I have manage to resist buying Frosted Flakes cereal for 9 months. Until today. That stupid tiger enticed me with frosted goodness, and I did not resist. I put that stupid box in my cart, and I ate a bowl of deliciously frosted flakes with ice cold milk, and thought about how much fun it will be to lose the 42 pounds I’ve gained.
Luckily I have a personal trainer come to the house every day, first thing, to make sure I work out. I don’t even have to pay him. Mostly because he is Tony Horton, of P90X fame, and he’s on dvd’s. Haha, you thought I actually paid a strange man to watch me sweat.
This time I am making a better go at breastfeeding. No formula supplementing. I didn’t actually need to with Caden, but the hospital TOLD me to, and they are the HOSPITAL, so they must be right, right?
This time I’ll be focusing on working out. Not working out AND dieting, which caused my milk supply to plummet last time. You have to eat calories to make milk, you can’t just burn them off jazzercising in your basement and expect The Girls to keep up their output. No dieting (which I define as cutting calories) for me. However, I will be kissing my junk food supplies good bye, and probably my late night cereal snacks.
I shall also be using some natural remedies to make sure I have enough food to keep Riker growing. When I find some that I like, I’ll let you know. Foods that help you be a better human cow include Very Dark beer and steel cut oatmeal. At least those are the two I know of, both of which I despise. Hoping to find out that Cadbury eggs are in that category, but I doubt it.
Today saw me waddling around Wal-Mart stocking our larder. Caden waved a plastic spoon at strangers and generally was my drooly happy grocery buying companion. We came home, made some turkey burgers, fed them to Aaron and Sydney, and played Settlers of Catan. I won. Twice. Aaron and Sydney were distracted watching cable. Hah! Victory is mine!
Tomorrow we will be driving to Leavenworth for my 39 week appointment with midwife Anita! Pray we don’t get lost or take a wrong turn into the Federal Prison, or something. Also pray Squeaks enjoys the 3 hours in the car. Yikes.
I’ll let you know how it goes when we get home. Pray Riker has turned in the proper position and that my body is ready to get this baby OUT.
I want to kiss his cheeks.