Yesterday was my friend The Brunette Foodie‘s little boy’s first birthday party. (I cannot believe he’s one already.)
When I was getting dressed to go, I decided I wouldn’t wear my swimsuit because Joshua likely wouldn’t play in the water anyway. He never does. Usually. Except for yesterday because I wasn’t wearing my swimsuit. Go figure.
So I dug around in my dresser for some shorts and after trying on the 3 pair I own the only ones that fit were a pair of maternity bermuda shorts.
These are the only shorts that have really fit me in two years, if I’m being honest, and they don’t fit me well.
Even with their elastic-waisted goodness, I was ridiculously uncomfortable yesterday. I’ve been ridiculously uncomfortable for weeks.
Want to know why?
Because I’ve gained NINE POUNDS this summer.
I’m at 202 pounds as of this morning.
I can see the 9 pounds in my face and feel them in my mid-section. I can feel my boobs resting on my stomach.
I hate the way this feels.
This has been the summer of cookies and ice cream and inactivity. I hate the fact that I ate those cookies that put them there when I could’ve NOT eaten them or had an apple instead.
While I’m ridiculously sad the summer is ending, I’m thankful that soon, I’ll be closer to the gym and I’ll have childcare again at hours that are conducive to me actually GOING to the gym.
I think the elliptical has missed me.