I have been trying so hard to find the energy to start working out again. Also the permission to take time to do things for myself–today I had to leave work a couple hours early so I could wait at home for the utility person to come fix my water supply, and it took everything I had to convince myself it was ok if I left the baby with the nanny and had some alone time at home. The “bad mommy” feeling is as pernicious as the “bad woman” feeling I get when I’m confrontational and direct about my needs. Wanting some alone time doesn’t mean I don’t love my baby, and in fact puts me in a better position to love him more. Or at least, that’s the running theory.

At any rate, I did spend some time trying to think how I could work out and spend time with the baby. It’s a cute idea, but I think impractical–a squirming giggling weight is probably not ideal for good form, and on top of that he already weighs 18 pounds and I’m starting from being able to lift almost nothing. I’d do like, one rep of everything, and then collapse in exhaustion.

Regardless, I’m losing weight, but it’s an alarming sort of feeling to lose weight when you aren’t dieting or working out. I know it’s because I’m breastfeeding, and the reason the baby weighs 18 pounds is because he literally sucked it out of me, but I can’t shake that feeling you get when you’ve lost a bunch of weight because you’ve been sick. Not good. I’d really love to get some strength back.

Of course, I can’t even manage to draw a proper comic 3x a week, so maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself.