The New Mom Physique

Losing the baby weight wasn’t hard. In fact, between three-hour walks and hastily gobbled cereal for lunch, most moms I know are 5-10 pounds lighter than our pre-pregnancy weight. But everything is a bit...redistributed. Stomach skin is still saggy, and let’s not even talk about the boobs. My son informed me that my bra was to hold my boobies on so that they didn’t fall off and roll away, and I think he is right. I’ve got a complete mismatch of developed arm muscles from carrying a baby on one side for seven months and the bucket seat on the other arm. My legs are strong from hauling laundry up two flights of stairs but marked by bruises from walking into furniture after late-night feedings and spider veins. It’s the new mom physique, and although you won’t see it on the cover of Sports Illustrated any time soon, we’ve earned every one of our battle scars.

Play that Funky Music

I have a new addiction. Right up there with coffee and chocolate, I can’t deny its siren call. It’s the Backyardigans – the soundtrack, to be precise. The other day my son was watching the Tikki beach episode and from upstairs I heard the catchy tune “Mystery Lifeguard” come on. Leaving the baby safely ensconced in the high chair, I flew downstairs and grabbed the remote to rewind to the beginning of the song, much to the surprise of my husband (my son is more accustomed to such random acts). I am reminded of my school-age self racing to record my favourite top 40hits from the radio on an old cassette player. But is the soundtrack of my life now includes cartoon music, I’ll take it. What kid show or tune are you hooked on?

Life’s Not Fair

My husband and I have had our share of "discussions" about the division of labour involved with raising kids. My strong desire to always have everything fair and just means that in an ideal world, we would add up all the hours spent working for a living and at home and split everything straight down the middle. But of course that can’t happen, and I am reminded of my “mad scientist” 7th grade teacher passionately declaring to us whiny 12-year-olds “Life’s NOT fair.” And so my hubby and I have negotiated a settlement that works for our family. He logs massive hours at work and commuting but benefits from a rewarding and challenging career, complete with adult conversation. I have been spit up and pooped on thousands of times and haven’t had an uninterrupted night’s sleep in four years, but I get the lion’s share of the hugs, cuddles, stories and giggles. So it is true – life is not fair. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.