I usually start my Thoughts posts with some sort of funny or inspirational quote by some sort of notable character. In this case, I think I’ll spare us all the Marilyn Monroe or Teddy Roosevelt statements and head straight for the heart: let’s all send our love and thoughts to the entire Middle East. Now, on to lighter things, like muffin tops.
1. I Have A Muffin Top. Since birthing Rivkah, and I use that term sort of loosely considering she was removed from an incision in my abdomen, I’ve been on a steady weight decline that’s felt pretty good for the most part. I get huge when I’m pregnant, like really huge, especially since I barf up most of my food during the 9 months. Scientifically speaking, I have no idea how I gained 55 pounds with my first or 49 pounds this time around since there’s no possible way I could’ve ingested more than 700 calories each day. I’m convinced my metabolism just stops altogether as soon as there’s a drop of sperm anywhere near me. When I delivered Rivkah almost 4 weeks ago I weighed about 178 pounds according to the hospital scale, and here I am now with about 13 pounds to go. I’m happy with the progress, and don’t really care if a few pounds stick around, but my main objective is to fit back into my old clothing and not have to purchase an entirely new wardrobe (call me crazy, but I invested in some pretty great sweaters last year that I’d love to wear again). And, since heavy exercise can’t really happen post C-section till baby is about 2 months old, I found a way to get moving safely, and cutely with my Stokke and Therafits.
Basically, my doctor recommended lots of brisk walking with occasional stops to stretch and extend muscles. According to her, this will bring back muscle tone, cardio-ability, and agility in a couple weeks and it’s low impact enough that it won’t disturb the sensitive uterine tissue after a C-section. So I’ve been pushing Rivkah in her jazzy stroller about 3 miles per day, every day, in my super comfy posture-supported sneakers, and encouraging baby to love it just as much by offering her a fur-trimmed ride. Considering I’m down about 36 pounds out of the total 49 I gained, I’d say it’s working (and breastfeeding isn’t hurting, either).
2. Speaking of losing the weight… Since I never really had a baby WITH a man before (by the time my son was born his dad and I were on totally separate pages and he moved out a few days after baby came home), this whole happy family thing has been new to me. I didn’t know what to expect or how to do this, and in some ways, it felt like it was the first time I was doing this (again) because it was a totally new environment. I didn’t know what to expect. Would my husband still see me as a woman, and not just a mom? Would he be attracted to me still as I recovered? Would he be as in love with the baby as I hoped? The truth is, I’ve been learning the answers as I go. And I have to admit, I was nervous that first week- he was beyond excited about the baby but < I think > too stressed out by the craziness in the world around him (no electricity, work, etc) to focus on giving me the extra hugs and love I was really hoping for. After the mayhem and chaos of adding a 4th person to our house during Superstorm Sandy settled down, his affection and love seemed to grow by the day (and I couldn’t feel luckier).
3. It’s Dreidel Bag Season!!! Since Chanukkah is only a handful of days away, it’s officially time for the dreidel bags to be broken out. For those of you goys and shiksas and such out there, a dreidel is the spinning top that Jewy kids play with in order to try their hands at gambling. For those of you Israelis who don’t know the word “dreidel” (um, my husband didn’t know this word at all when we met), we’re talking about sivivons. Anyway, back in the 80’s when my parents had a house full of 3 little kids in the fabulous USA they realized we’d crave some of the Christmas stuff we saw our neighbors partaking in. So, while we never strayed as far as a Chanukkah bush or anything super goyish, we got little dreidel bags that acted like the Christmas stockings our Italian neighbors had filled with candy and goodies each year. Our dreidels were filled to the brim with kosher chocolates, cherry Chapsticks, sweet little notes, and Matchbox cars each of the 8 crazy nights. I found my 1986 dreidel bag (I was 2 years old) last night, and I’m excited to copy the design and custom for my own brood now, 26 years later.
