Here's the deal, Wyatt's birth story is a doozy - literally a week long labor, pushed for 2 and a half hours and eventually had to give in to an emergency c-section. Afterwards, my liver started to fail and it was just a big 'ol mess and I quite honestly have blocked much of the first couple of months of his life from my memory.
I had just become single a month before his birth. My world was turned upside down and nothing was what I imagined it would be. Due to the single status, I had to go back to work one week after having a c-section to ensure a roof over our heads, food on the table. You know, silly things like that. I worked 9 hour days, with baby in tow for 6 months. When I got home, there was no one to help with the baby so I could work out for a little bit. There was no one to change a diaper for me or hold him so I could cook a healthy dinner. I'd crash on the couch by 9 and be up bright and early to do it all over again.
I struggled to come to terms with the change in plans. This wasn't the life I pictured for my son. It wasn't the life I pictured for myself. It was a very difficult time for me. Having a new little miracle... such a miracle... in my life should have been the highest, happiest point in my life. But, to be perfectly honest, it was the lowest I've ever been. Please don't mistake that for not being happy to have Wyatt. I was unbelievably grateful for him. He is what kept me going every, single day.
I start with this part of the story, not as a "poor me", but to point out there are times where some excuses are valid. I don't feel guilty for not getting my health in check during this time. It was not my priority and looking back, I can honestly say I could not do it at that time. Mentally. Physically. I could not.
Once he started daycare at 6 months, and I started to come to terms with life and settle into a routine, I often thought about losing weight. But there was always an excuse... this time, unreasonable excuses. He's too young. I'm too tired. It's too soon. Blah. Blah. Blah.
When Wyatt's first birthday rolled around and I looked at the party pictures, I was disgusted with what I saw. I was ashamed of my 200 pound self. Without ever giving it a shot, I just knew there was no way I could workout when Wyatt was awake, so I'd try to workout around 9 after he was in a bed. After a couple of days, I'd be so exhausted, I'd give up. Wyatt has always been up for the day around 4:30am, so morning workouts weren't an option. Again, excuses.
Last Spring, I ordered JMBR and decided to just try working out with Wyatt awake. I went into that first workout expecting a complete disaster. To my surprise, Wyatt absolutely loved it. Our evening workouts became his favorite part of the day. It has become a very special bonding time for us.
I feel so blessed to have this time with him. He is learning to live a healthy lifestyle and sees that mama makes it a priority. This is hugely important to me.
However, working out with a toddler comes with it's risks.
Wyatt was lifting with me last night, because he's "supa song" and all. Also, super cute, if I do say so myself.
Unfortunately, little Wyatt is in a "everything is a ball and must be thrown" phase. I was lunging and Wyatt threw a dumbbell right into my knee. It was feeling better before bed, but I woke up to a very swollen and sore knee. I'm icing this morning, and hoping to still get a couple miles in at lunch, even if I just have to walk them.
Yesterday, I worked a 10 hour day, survived a bomb threat, picked up my future body builder, made dinner, laundry, clean up, play time, bath time, worked on a minion hat order, and got a 40 minute workout in. My point is, if something is important to you, you will find a way to get it done. The old me would have skipped a workout on a day like yesterday, but not this time. That's not me anymore.