Well, it’s crunch-time. I have shopped like a madwoman, bought a new car, and am about to undergo a cleaning frenzy this weekend to get ready for the new job on Monday. I’ll spare you the existential freak-out by summing it up as nerve-wracking, and leave it at that.
In all this back-to-work frenzy, I also hit another milestone in my fitness quest. Since the New Year, I have dropped 40 pounds. Yep, you read that right sister, 40 freaking pounds. I am now back to the weight I was when I met my husband those many moons ago. Ahhhh…as shallow as it makes me, I sure do like being 40 pounds thinner. Me and the dressing room mirror have resolved our differences, and come to have a surprisingly amicable relationship.
I actually put on my husband’s boxer shorts as pajamas the other day, and Holy Guacamole, they fit. That may not mean much to you, but six months ago, that would not have happened without permanently cutting off the circulation to the lower half of my body. This is good news because I like wearing my husband’s clothes as pajamas…there is something inherently girly about it. The small victories are more tangible than the numbers on the scale, and are usually followed by an absurdly dorky victory dance that embarrasses anyone caught within my vicinity.
While I have been getting ready for this whole work thing, the level of stress around here climbed to dangerous proportions. Granny, in her infinite wisdom, could see that a freak-out was imminent. She packed some bags, enough food to feed a small country, and whisked me, Husband, the heathens and Best Friend M. up to Arkansas for a weekend on the lake. We ate, we drank, we kayaked and canoed down a river (during which time much hilarity ensued), and had a mini-vacation. Husband got up at 5:00 AM to fish, Best Friend M. and I did not. Let me tell ya, it was just what the doctor ordered…well, except for canoeing straight into a tree and traumatizing my Youngest. Oh, and my bathing suit was from 40 pounds ago, so we had to use a variety of safety pins to keep it on me. But, other than that, we all had a nice break from our routines.
Now, if I can just keep myself busy enough this weekend to avoid thinking about just how challenging it will be for a SAHM of 7 years to rejoin the workforce.
I will not freak out….I will not freak out….I will not freak out……