And after Sarah was born, she ate for Australia.
The result, by the time she was 8 months old, we looked like this.
|The offending boardies.|
And even though he ate loads, all my extra nom noming didn't melt away the way the extra kgs did with Sarah.
It was 2005. The year of my sister's 50th. We had a trip to QLD planned for early October. I went to try on my old pink board shorts because I knew I couldn't face wearing swimmers without some type of cover up.
Come to think of it, why didn't I buy a kaftan?
Anyway I didn't, I tried on my old pink board shorts. They were size 14. They were so tight I popped a button on them.
I looked at my darling breastfeeding boy and knew I couldn't go on any crazy diet thing while he needed me for his entire menu. And it had to be slow and steady and sustainable.
It wasn't about exercise. Since Josh was 6 weeks old I'd been swimming 2km 2-3 times a week and walking with the kids in the double pram. It was about the cakes for morning tea and the chocolate after lunch and the big servings and the dessert every night.
Sure, I was feeding a hungry boy, but this was ridiculous. I needed me some motivation and education.
At Clontarf, while busting out of my size 14 board shorts, I met a friend of a friend who had lost 10kg on Weight Watchers. She looked awesome. Our mutual friend (my next door neighbour) and I made a pact to do it ourselves. Our other side neighbour said she'd do it too. She had a set of scales. We would weigh in every Friday.
I made my sisters 50th in QLD my last hurrah. I ate everything I could. Once I got home, I was going to be serious healthy.
Weight Watchers sent me lots of stuff, told me how much extra I could eat because I was feeding Josh. I made wraps with lean meat and salad veges, I made vege cous cous, I measured meals. I found lots of delicious dishes which weren't packed with fat and carbs.
Mike was fully into it and very supportive. Although he wasn't happy when I told him he'd have to do a half marathon to work off a big bag of Kettle Chips. I was full of handy bits of info like this.
When the three of us who were weighing in together joined forces for our regular Friday afternoon get togethers (aka Friday drinks), we ate carrot and celery sticks. No more brie, no white castello, just home made salsa and guacamole.
We still drank wine. Some things never change.
I started just after the October long weekend. I think it was the 11th. I was 72kg.
|Look at those chubby cheeks. Mine!|
|On our way to a Christmas function. I grew my hair at the same time.|
Since I was 10 I'd been a 'fat' kid. Then I'd been a well padded adult. Now I was at my goal weight. Weight Watchers sent me a little badge.
Of course, after all those years of struggling, I'm still fat on the inside, and occasionally lose the plot and creep back up to 60. I still have to force myself to try on the small rather than the medium. In fact I still buy a lot of medium. Just because I'm within cooee of a healthy BMI doesn't mean I don't have unfortunate bulgy bits that aren't best covered with a flowing shirt or frock.
So that's my story. I'm not telling it because I want to be congratulated. I'm just telling you because it's a story that's a massive part of me. It's still massive. I will never be relaxed about it.
I think I wasted most of my teens and 20s worrying because I was overweight and hating how I looked. My wardrobe was dowdy, my style was nondescript. I just wanted to blend.
I want my girl's story to be different. I'll do everything in my power to make them see themselves differently to the way I did, to revel in being young and strong and gorgeous.