Pants, post baby

I'm back at work today, cured from my strep throat thanks to the medical miracles of amoxycillin, prednisone, and ibuprofen, and I'm happy. Not so much because of work (though it's good, my New Year's brief was met with good reviews from the partners and client, and I actually got to talk to our client today, which sadly, is a rare thing for a 3rd year in litigation), but because of pants.

On a whim, I reached back into the recesses of my closet this morning and pulled out my favorite brown pants. Actually, they're my only brown pants, but they're also my favorite. They're my magical $7 pants, that I purchased from Ann Taylor in January of 2009, long before I got pregnant with Claire. I'd assumed I would never fit into them again. I actually almost gave them away in our last goodwill load. I didn't even have the goal of fitting into them again. I'll admit, I thought it would be nice, but the weight I was at post-Landon was a result of an extremely high (and extremely unusual) amount of stress in my life and I assumed I would never hit it again. And I was totally okay with that.

I used to weigh myself every morning. I did it not because it changed anything I did that day, but because it was ingrained habit. Kind of like how some people start out the day with a cup of coffee, I started out mine on the scale and if I ever skipped it, it was weird not to know what the number was as I went about my day. Until this week, I hadn't been weighed since my 6 week post-patrum checkup. And oddly enough, I think the past 6 months have been the healthiest attitude I've ever had about my body. Nothing earth-shattering, just a general feeling of it's okay. I'm eating well, because I like good food, and I'm eating dessert, because I like sugar, but I'm not eating specific quantities of either because I feel like I should, or because I've already "ruined" my healthy attempts for the day so I'll just screw it and have 3 more cookies, or because I "deserve" a treat because of something else I did. I just eat. Because I like food.

As I said, not earth-shattering.

Then I got weighed at my strep throat urgent care appointment on Tuesday and was shocked to see I am exactly where I was a few months before I had Claire. Still more than 12 pounds up from where I was after all the DCFS stuff and the move and the Bar, but that's fine, I don't think I will ever naturally get back there. But I am back where I was 18 months ago. My body is different. I have a long c-section scar, some extra "softness" (because it sounds better than flabbiness or squishiness, as Landon called it the other day) in my stomach, and much more "softness" in my legs, but I've pretty much fallen back into my old shape. I'd like to be stronger. I used to be very strong from my swimming, and my arms are still strong from holding my 90th percentile Biscuit, but my legs hurt after 2 flights of stairs. I'm trying to walk more. In college and in Chicago I walked all the time, but here (and our 100+ degree 5 months of summer are partially to blame), we almost never do and I miss it. So that's my goal for this year- more family walks.

But right now I'm wearing pants I love and which make me smile because I'm wearing them, and it may be superficial, but that's all I've needed to be happy today.