Working Out Has Become An Ugh...

For a while there, I was doing good. I was working out four-five times a week whether it be at the gym, runs w/ little man around Lake Zorinsky or at home with my rockin' Tracy Anderson's Post Preggo Workout. This has really fallen off track these days...I think the last time I worked out was a quick run last Friday night while they hubby watched Cruz. My abs? They haven't seen a crunch in over a week. My gym membership...basically going to waste - when I log in online it shows how often I've been there this month. For me...a big goose egg.

Now I'm just getting into excuses. I tell myself it's too hard to workout in the morning because I'm up so early with Cruzer or getting myself ready so I don't have to mess with that after he wakes up. After work, I look forward to spending time once we get Cruz home - I take his helmet off, give him a bath {he's so sweaty!}, feed him and cuddle him until our time is up and we have to put the helmet back on and put him to bed. After that I usually have to figure out what I'm going to have for dinner and then jump on the computer to finish up some work emails that didn't get done during the day.

My biggest {and BEST} excuse? Ever since my sister-in-law made mention that it takes time for your uterus to go back to it's normal size {I think she told me this around Thanksgiving}, I've taken to using that excuse when explaining to the hubby why that stubborn tummy I  now have just won't go away. "It's just my uterus" I tell him, "it takes time for that to contract." I think I've got him convinced that it's true! Even if it technically should only take about 4 weeks for your uterus to contract based on what I've read online...but we won't tell him that.

Let's just hope he doesn't get smart and start researching this...otherwise I'm screwed. God forbid I actually stop making excuses, give up my glass of wine at night and the snacks that I love and just focus on eating healthier and finding time for at least a bit of exercise during the week. No, that would be too difficult. Telling my fibs is much, much easier....