The Lurgy has entered the house. I woke up this morning, after an awful night's sleep, with a stuffy nose, a scratchy throat, aching joints and a pounding head. I was surprised at this as I've not been around anyone with a cold and I've been eating so well and exercising regularly that I thought my immunity would be a little stronger. So foul do I feel, that I felt something must have caused it and I looked back over my week trying to find the source of my misery. Only then did it occur to me that I might be taking on a little too much...
Working as a teacher I'm used to busy days and heavy workloads and countless marking and data deadlines. As Head of KS3 English, I constantly have a to do list longer than my arm and I rarely have a day that sees everything ticked off. Although I occasionally moan about my workload, I know I thrive in situations when stuff just needs to get done. I'm guilty of leaving things to the last minute because I know I can't procrastinate any more and I HAVE to finish a task. It's like I'm on my own Challenge Aneka episode only it's Challenge Jen and I'm competing with myself and time. The adrenaline is addictive and the pride at completing a task makes me feel like superwoman.
Being on maternity leave hasn't made me any more relaxed. Despite no longer having lessons to plan or essays to mark or data to review, I still give myself a huge workload...and I have to ask myself why I do this.
Take this week for instance. On Monday, I went to Mum and Baby group, completed a workout, went in to the local town to top up my grocery shop, even though I didn't need to. Tuesday I got up early to go running in the rain, took a shower and took Seb to Rhythm Time before racing home to have dinner before making the 4pm mum and baby showing of Beauty and the Beast. Wednesday saw a 10am Story Explorers class and a 12.45pm baby yoga class on opposite sides of the town and another browse around Tesco. Thursday? A particularly challenging day of a HIIT and weights session and a baby swim class all before midday followed by an hour's drive to York to have two work meetings before coming home to take Smeagol on an hour long birthday walk. On top of all this I do all the usual mum things: putting Seb down for routine naps, feeding him, dressing him, changing him, preparing bottles and meals, loading the dishwasher, cooking three healthy meals a day, doing laundry, tidying the house, walking the dog twice a day, showering, putting on make up, playing with Sebastian...food shopping. More? I meet up with friends for coffee, arrange play dates and clothes swaps, clear out my wardrobe and donate clothes to friends or charities, update this blog and instagram plus I'm doing the British Heart Foundation's My Marathon May. It's no wonder that I'm starting to burn out a little.
Why though? Why do I do this? I frequently hear my friends ask how I manage to do so much - how do I find time to cook? To clean? Why am I so busy?
The classes with Seb I do because I think it's important for his development and because I can't stay in the house all day or I'd go crackers. They're as much for me as they are for him...plus I know that when I go back to work I'm never going to regret all the time we spent playing and learning together. But everything else can be neglected a little, surely? Even typing that makes me guffaw because I know I couldn't just neglect my tasks completely. I will always need to tidy and clean because I simply hate unorganised chaos. I deep need in me since childhood has to organise things or people. I think it's the same part of me that will always get a thrill at buying stationary.
I've always been a bit of an overachiever. I'm not the smartest, quickest, prettiest or funniest. In fact I am distinctly average in every way and so I've always had to work hard. A fear of ignorance means I'm constantly reading and wanting to learn. If I don't know something, I have to 'read up' on it so that I know the answers. I feel proud when I receive compliments on my outfit, carefully selected in my mind the night before, even though I might only be going to the coffee shop. It's not about being the best; I'm not that shallow. It more like I want to be the best that I can be.
But life is not a competition...and it's foolish to compete against yourself all the time.
Looking at my instagram page, it's full of glossy, filtered pictures of home cooked, healthy meals, a smiling baby, a made up face and primped hair, motivating images of me working out. How pretty. How 'put together'.They're truthful images because yes, sometimes my life is pretty and put together, but it's not the whole truth. Sometimes, days like today happen.
Today I'm ill, grumpy, greasy and unmotivated. Today I haven't showered or put on make up or even changed out of my joggers and t-shirt which I slept in. I just put Military Man's hoodie over the top, because I'm missing him whilst he's away in Norway. Today, Seb and I have eaten a lovely breakfast of scrambled eggs and avocado, beautifully instagrammed....but I haven't washed the dishes, or unloaded the dishwasher from last night. I haven't dressed Seb - he's still in his pj's. His toys are strewn around the front room, the dog's muddy footprints pollute my usually clean kitchen floor...and it's ok for today. I'm cutting myself some slack. I have no workout plans nor am I leaving the house apart from the obligatory dog walks which I will do in the same clothes I'm wearing now.
Everyone puts pressure on themselves but I do think mum's add even more weight to the load because they have a little person that they feel they're letting down if they don't do something perfectly. This is silly. Not once has Sebastian looked at me this morning, in his avocado stained superman pyjamas, and frowned at me as if to say 'you're failing as a mother'. He gave me his usual gummy giggle and blew a raspberry, spraying me with unswallowed remnants of scrambled egg. Sebastian thinks I'm perfect. One day, this will change and no matter how hard I try, he'll still give me stony teenage glares that will unhinge me. One day, he'll think I'm a rubbish mum and in a fit of adolescent rage he might even say it. But for right now, Sebastian thinks I'm the most wonderful mummy in the world, complete with greasy hair and a messy kitchen. And today, that's the best that I can be.
J
Showing posts with label mummies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mummies. Show all posts
Friday, 19 May 2017
Thursday, 27 April 2017
Fitness, food and fitting in to my old jeans...
The muscles in my bum are on fire. Every time I take a step up the stairs, or bend over to pick up my son or tidy something away, or even so much as take a step, my glutes cry out in shrieking pain that they hate me. I move around with low grumbles of 'ouch, ow, ooh, ouch, gah' like I've just had a hip replacement and am off to Bingo.
This pain is self inflicted after a particularly intense HIIT workout yesterday that involved Sumo Squats. Sumo Squats. Sumo = large wrestler with a wedgie. Squats = using your bum muscles to dip down low and (hopefully) get you back up again. Those are two words that should not be put together but unfortunately have been collaborated to create a squat from hell that involves you dipping down into a regular squat and then jumping... jumping back up in to a legs together position. Sounds easy? Try it after high knees, burpees and mountain climbers and do 5 rounds of each, as fast as you can. It's HARD.
I'm in my third week of training for a running challenge for the British Heart Foundation called My Marathon. I have four weeks to run a total of 26.2 miles - that's 42K if you like it metric. You can choose to walk, jog or run it and you log the miles you complete on a fitness app connected to your own Everyday Hero page. I've chosen to jog and run the miles as best I can but considering I'm more unfit than I ever have been, I thought I'd better get some training in.
The apps I've been using are my trusty Samsung Health app and the Baby Steps to 5k program which promises to get me fitter and running a full 5k in 10 weeks. If I can manage to get through the My Marathon month (not that I have a choice now that the sponsorships are coming in!) then I might put myself in for a charity 5k. The other app is Strava, a fitness tracking app for athletes which is only a little bit intimidating but also really good at showing me at which points in my run that I'm at my fastest and trends in pace, distance and longest active time.
Whilst this may all seem very benevolent and selfless I assure you that my motives are not purely charitable. Frankly, I want to lose weight.
Before my eggo got preggo I was a size 10 to 12 and at 5"7 I weighed in at 12st which, incidentally is considered overweight despite the fact that I ran three times a week and ate healthily due to having coeliac disease. At my most ill, when I was passing out and my blood pressure was dangerously low resulting in an iron infusion, I was a size 8 and 10st and considered 'normal'. I was skeletal and it just didn't suit me. Now, post baby, I'm a size 14 and nearly 15st. It's not the largest I've ever been but I don't exactly feel confident. Whilst I'm realistic enough to know that my body is never going to be exactly the same as it was pre Sebastian, I would like to lose some of the flab which seems to have piled up on my hips, thighs and arms...accumulations of fat that have come from the slabs of chocolate I've lived off in the last 6 months. Worth it? My tummy says yes...my glutes disagree! Trying on my size 12 pre-pregnancy jeans a few weeks ago saw them fastening, only just, pushing up a muffin top that made me seriously crave a blueberry breakfast muffin but simultaneously made me want to stop breathing in case oxygen contained calories.
I was lucky really. I got no stretchmarks or wrinkly skin as a result of my being pregnant. My stomach looks squishy but, aside from my c-section scar, you wouldn't be able to tell I'd been pregnant in the last year. My fitness levels, however, tell a different story. The first time I went out for a run I was out of puff before I'd even made it past the end of my street. But I know I'll get there. 3 weeks in and I already feel the difference...and the burn in the bum muscles.
Foodwise, I've started following The Body Coach's 90 day Shift, Shape and Sustain plan, inspired by my pal Rachel over at The Inelegant Wench (check her out!) who was kind enough to talk me through her tailor made plan. As I am a pauper on maternity pay, I can't afford the £150 three month plan so Rachel has let me purloin some recipes and I'm using the book to help me learn, plan and workout. I'm 2 weeks in to the food plan and it's been illuminating. Essentially, it's a low carb lifestyle which suits me fine as I love a bit of meat (get that smut out of your mind) but it educates you on what to eat and when. Carbs are allowed, but only as a refuel after a workout so if I want a bowl of pasta that's fine, but I'm gonna have to work my ass off for it first. Food as motivation? Oh Joe Wicks...you are a genius.
So far, I feel full...constantly full. There is a LOT of veg and eggs and I'm getting pretty tired of spinach though I have discovered a lifelong love for kale but in truth, I'm finding it fairly easy. I love to cook fresh and have to anyway to ensure none of my food contains gluten so it's not that much of a change for me. The first week I had major sugar cravings and was in a serious grump with Military Man who thought it was acceptable to eat MY easter egg in front of me. But really I'm glad he removed the temptation! I had headaches, lethargy and general sluggishness but this week I'm feeling much more refreshed...although I do seem to be spending rather a lot of time on the loo, side effects of all that green veg!
The recipes are delicious and I've been posting pictures on my Instagram so check them out.
Joe Wicks instructs his 90 Day-ers not to step on the scales or the Sad Step as he calls it but as I'm technically not a paying 90 Day-er, I figured I didn't have to stick to the rules. I know...I'm such a rebel. So far? I've lost 14lbs.
I tried on my pre - pregnancy size 12 jeans earlier. My sore ass fit in them without a splodge of muffin top. Suddenly, my glutes don't ache as much.
J
This pain is self inflicted after a particularly intense HIIT workout yesterday that involved Sumo Squats. Sumo Squats. Sumo = large wrestler with a wedgie. Squats = using your bum muscles to dip down low and (hopefully) get you back up again. Those are two words that should not be put together but unfortunately have been collaborated to create a squat from hell that involves you dipping down into a regular squat and then jumping... jumping back up in to a legs together position. Sounds easy? Try it after high knees, burpees and mountain climbers and do 5 rounds of each, as fast as you can. It's HARD.
I'm in my third week of training for a running challenge for the British Heart Foundation called My Marathon. I have four weeks to run a total of 26.2 miles - that's 42K if you like it metric. You can choose to walk, jog or run it and you log the miles you complete on a fitness app connected to your own Everyday Hero page. I've chosen to jog and run the miles as best I can but considering I'm more unfit than I ever have been, I thought I'd better get some training in.
The apps I've been using are my trusty Samsung Health app and the Baby Steps to 5k program which promises to get me fitter and running a full 5k in 10 weeks. If I can manage to get through the My Marathon month (not that I have a choice now that the sponsorships are coming in!) then I might put myself in for a charity 5k. The other app is Strava, a fitness tracking app for athletes which is only a little bit intimidating but also really good at showing me at which points in my run that I'm at my fastest and trends in pace, distance and longest active time.
Whilst this may all seem very benevolent and selfless I assure you that my motives are not purely charitable. Frankly, I want to lose weight.
Before my eggo got preggo I was a size 10 to 12 and at 5"7 I weighed in at 12st which, incidentally is considered overweight despite the fact that I ran three times a week and ate healthily due to having coeliac disease. At my most ill, when I was passing out and my blood pressure was dangerously low resulting in an iron infusion, I was a size 8 and 10st and considered 'normal'. I was skeletal and it just didn't suit me. Now, post baby, I'm a size 14 and nearly 15st. It's not the largest I've ever been but I don't exactly feel confident. Whilst I'm realistic enough to know that my body is never going to be exactly the same as it was pre Sebastian, I would like to lose some of the flab which seems to have piled up on my hips, thighs and arms...accumulations of fat that have come from the slabs of chocolate I've lived off in the last 6 months. Worth it? My tummy says yes...my glutes disagree! Trying on my size 12 pre-pregnancy jeans a few weeks ago saw them fastening, only just, pushing up a muffin top that made me seriously crave a blueberry breakfast muffin but simultaneously made me want to stop breathing in case oxygen contained calories.
 |
| Me as a size 10 to 12 before I had my son |
 |
| Just a few weeks after having Sebastian |
I was lucky really. I got no stretchmarks or wrinkly skin as a result of my being pregnant. My stomach looks squishy but, aside from my c-section scar, you wouldn't be able to tell I'd been pregnant in the last year. My fitness levels, however, tell a different story. The first time I went out for a run I was out of puff before I'd even made it past the end of my street. But I know I'll get there. 3 weeks in and I already feel the difference...and the burn in the bum muscles.
Foodwise, I've started following The Body Coach's 90 day Shift, Shape and Sustain plan, inspired by my pal Rachel over at The Inelegant Wench (check her out!) who was kind enough to talk me through her tailor made plan. As I am a pauper on maternity pay, I can't afford the £150 three month plan so Rachel has let me purloin some recipes and I'm using the book to help me learn, plan and workout. I'm 2 weeks in to the food plan and it's been illuminating. Essentially, it's a low carb lifestyle which suits me fine as I love a bit of meat (get that smut out of your mind) but it educates you on what to eat and when. Carbs are allowed, but only as a refuel after a workout so if I want a bowl of pasta that's fine, but I'm gonna have to work my ass off for it first. Food as motivation? Oh Joe Wicks...you are a genius.
So far, I feel full...constantly full. There is a LOT of veg and eggs and I'm getting pretty tired of spinach though I have discovered a lifelong love for kale but in truth, I'm finding it fairly easy. I love to cook fresh and have to anyway to ensure none of my food contains gluten so it's not that much of a change for me. The first week I had major sugar cravings and was in a serious grump with Military Man who thought it was acceptable to eat MY easter egg in front of me. But really I'm glad he removed the temptation! I had headaches, lethargy and general sluggishness but this week I'm feeling much more refreshed...although I do seem to be spending rather a lot of time on the loo, side effects of all that green veg!
The recipes are delicious and I've been posting pictures on my Instagram so check them out.
Joe Wicks instructs his 90 Day-ers not to step on the scales or the Sad Step as he calls it but as I'm technically not a paying 90 Day-er, I figured I didn't have to stick to the rules. I know...I'm such a rebel. So far? I've lost 14lbs.
I tried on my pre - pregnancy size 12 jeans earlier. My sore ass fit in them without a splodge of muffin top. Suddenly, my glutes don't ache as much.
J
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