So after having Clark, I was happy to be nearly back to my pre pregnancy weight in just 2 weeks!
I could squeeze into all my old jeans... they were to snug for me too actually want to wear them out, but I could have if I was feeling extra trashy.
Sadly though, instead of loosing those last 7 lbs.... I managed to gain 20!
Somewhere along the way did I got too cocky?
Was it the sleepless 9 months I endured?
Or maybe staying home all day drinking 5 cups of coffee with creamer and taking 2 naps with Clark on my chest because that was the only way I was getting any rest.
Then again, it could have been the postpartum thyroid issues I was having or the fact that some women actually gain weight when they are nursing rather than loose it.
Probably all of the above.
So I decided to get serious and start my diet.
( I am also done nursing)
I have done this diet twice before and it worked like magic.
Well, not completely like magic.
It's a lot like torture... and it took some real discipline and control but it really paid off.
I am hoping this time around I will have success again.
The diet is.... dun dun duhhhhhhh
Yes, the ever controversial HCG.
Note: I take the homeopathic synthetic drop, not the injections.
Although I have a friend who did the injections and was equally as successful.
As I am writing this, I looked back in my blog at past posts regarding diet to see if I have mentioned HCG before.
I found a post from exactly 2 years ago this month.
I started with " I finally like how I look"
Oh motherhood, you are a trickster.
I wanted to post about my diet though because I thought it might help to hold me accountable.
As well as encourage anyone else who is on or wants to try HCG at some point.
I won't go into all the details and science about it. You can Google that if you are interested. Or watch Dr. Oz videos. You will surely find Dr.'s who oppose it and ones who endorse it.
From my own personal experience though, it works.
In my opinion it is not starvation and it is not a placebo.
And it has not caused a yoyo diet effect with me.
That was pregnancy.
Please follow along so you can all see the pounds just melt right off of me.
Here is me right before Pregnancy:
Yep, that's me...dressed as Snooki as a zombie, doing Zumba on the Wii.
Got moves like Jagger.
Then I got Pregnant:
This is post baby 1 month:
( In my smallest jeans)
Then 10 months:
So this is the beginning of the end.
Diet has commenced and hopefully I can get back to where I am happy again.
1. I don’t want to wipe a single ass all day. I think all kids should have to hold their poop in on Mother’s Day. Now that would make it special.
2. I want brunch. But not with the whole frigging family. I want brunch with my other mommy friends. See ya, rugrats. Mommy’s coming back drunk on laughter and bloody marys.
3. I want to sleep in. But not with my hooligans shouting “MOMMYYYYYY!!!” at the top of their lungs and ramming one of those giant cannon thingies into the door to bust inside. To all the hubbies reading this: when the rugrats wake up, take them outside immediately. Not downstairs. OUTSIDE. That’s right, scoop them up in a football hold and rush them out the door. I’m F’ing serious. Change their diapers and their clothes on the front lawn if you have to. Just don’t let them wake my ass up.
4. I want a card. But not a stupid Hallmark card. I want one of those awesome homemade ones made with macaroni. Only I want the macaroni cooked and poured into a bowl and covered with a delicious cream sauce and paired with a giant bottle of red wine.
5. Jewelry jewelry jewelry. Unless it’s one of those stupid necklaces made with cheap plastic beads. None of that shit. Unless Tiffany’s is suddenly selling overpriced plastic bead necklaces. That can be returned for money. Because I don’t want to exchange it and the only thing I can afford is a stupid ass pen or keychain.
6. I want you to cook breakfast for me. In someone else’s kitchen.
7. I want to pee and poop alone. I will prepare for the day by downing a tanker truck full of liquid and eating ridiculous amounts of fiber.
8. I want chocolate. But not just any ole chocolate. I want the kind that someone has taken a fat Sharpie to and blacked out the F’ing calorie section.
9. I want a good present. Like one I’ll really like. It’s not the thought that counts. It’s MY thought that counts. And my thought should not be WTF?
10. I want ten “Leave me the fuck alone” coupons with no expiration date.
I’m a crafty Seattle girl turned mama, trying to have it all. While my cakes may be sugar coated, my posts are not. This blog is a small peek into my so called life and the adventures that go along with it. I break for garage sales. Also, don’t sass the cat.