Making memories

I'm a few kilos off pre-pregnancy weight and WAY off where I want to be, but is that going to stop me having photos taken in swimwear the first time Phoebe goes in the sea? Umm... NO.

10 thoughts you have during a Flywheel class

I’ve been doing Flywheel on and off for the last three years (eg I stopped when I was pregnant - any excuse - and when I’m skint it’s a bit of a luxury) and love to hate it. For the uninitiated, it’s basically spinning, but in a pitch black room, with amazing music and a much more competitive vibe. I think it’s pretty fair to call it a cult. In a nice, neon Lycra-clad way.

In my darker moments during a session my brain tries to escape; I’ve had full-blown fantasies about unclipping my shoes and going next door for a Costa, and I don’t even drink coffee. This is what goes through my mind in most classes…

1. This is it. The answer to my weight loss woes. 45 minutes of pure, calorie burning awesomeness. I'm a new woman in my new leggings. 
2. Just going to scope out the other riders and check my form in the mirror while the lights are still on. Oh dear – side profile in the new leggings is not a good look. 
3. Is that girl just wearing a sports bra? I’m 15 years too old for this. Please turn the lights off NOW. 
4. We’re sprinting. We’re hitting 100. I think my legs might fall off. Oh god, I think I can smell the wine I drank last night. 
5. Who was it that just whooped way too loudly? What a pillock. 
6. We’re climbing. I think I’m going to black out. 
7. My song! I love this song! Good grief, I was just singing loudly without realising it. 
8. I never knew this song was so long. I HATE this song.
9. Time for arms. Must not hit myself in the face with my weight. Ouch.
10. Never doing that again. How many calories did I burn? Wow. Okay. That was worth the puce face I’ll have for the next three hours. 

Illustration by Pin Dippy

The truth about clothes shopping after having a baby

As soon as I had a definite ‘baby bump’ (instead of looking like I’d had a week-long date with a baguette) I embraced cotton jersey and Lycra with glee abandon. Leggings, stretchy maxi dresses and, umm, ‘formal’ leggings were in - structure was out. In short, if it wasn’t the kind of clothing you’d don for a sofa-based nap, it was at the back of the wardrobe. 

One year later…

Our baby is nearly seven months old now and I’ve been back at work for half of her life. My Flopeds and yoga pants (that have never seen a gym) won’t cut it in the office, and 70% of my pre-pregnancy clothes won’t fit. So where does that leave me? At the mall. Devastating.

Here are some facts about buying clothes after having a baby:

1. You might weigh the same as you did before pregnancy (good for you - I don’t) BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE THE SAME SIZE. 
2. Or shape.
3. Even your feet can be bigger.
4. With every penny you spend there’s a niggle that maybe it should have gone towards nappies/nursery/the freaking expensive formula the baby is now mainlining. 
5. It’s easier just to buy clothes for the baby as you know her size. And they’re cuter.

I’m 4kg off my pre-pregnancy weight (hey, it took nine months to go on, so I have a couple of months' grace) and then want to lose another 10kg. Ok, 15kg. But even clothes that I was fitting into in the first few months of pregnancy don’t fit - hips expand, thighs grow, skin sags, muscle tone is lost. All in all, it’s a recipe for appalling body confidence, despite the fact you’ve put yourself through one of the most staggering, dramatic ‘miracles’. 

So shopping can be surprising at best, traumatic at worst. You’ll probably take a range of sizes into the changing room, then wish you’d worn Spanx, or a better bra, or heels. Or two pairs of Spanx. Then leave the mall with a pack of three mega adorable sleepsuits from M&S (size 6m-9m). 

'Nope' print available from Society6 here.