(This post was written on Sunday, September 16th. Mostly.)
This morning I had the best of intentions. J woke up at 6 with Hendrik, and Ailie and I slept in til sometime in the seven o’clock hour. I made my way to the kitchen slowly (lately, my feet ache upon first waking: all the extra weight?) and made a breakfast recipe from the June issue of Health magazine: Maple-Pecan Quinoa, though I used slivered almonds instead of pecans, frozen peaches instead of frozen cheeries.
It was really, really gross.
I’m staying away from the quinoa from breakfast. End of story, y’all.
I also wasn’t able to exercise today, as the morning was a mad rush to get all of us in our Eagles gear for the 12 PM gametime. We traveled to a nearby suburb to watch the game with some fellow Philadelphia fans, and unfortunately I indulged TOO much: Ritz crackers and boirsin cheese, tortillas and salsa; and a HEATH KLONDIKE BAR. (Holy crap, but those are unspeakably delicious.)
I have come to the not-so-startling realization that I am powerless against the finger foods. I must steel myself for battle against them, and when you combine lack of sleep with my breastfeeding appetite, you’ve got a recipe for disaster.
But, we soldier on.
I’m down about 27 pounds since delivery, another 23 to go. It all seems to be resting comfortably on my thighs. Be gone, 23 pounds. Stop it with your ridiculous Heath Klondike bars.