It has been some long while since I had the time or inclination to put fingertip to keyboard and update this blog. Shame on me, but with four children aged seven and under under my feet for the past two and a half weeks, simply remaining vaguely sane over the festive period has been a strain. Add to this the continuation of my battle against the bulge and you can understand why witty quips haven't been fast flowing of late.
I am proud to say that I actually managed to continue to lose weight over Christmas, thanks to a iron willpower and throwing out all the leftovers the moment that forks had ceased to be raised to our mouths. Though how I have resisted raiding the children's mountain of sweets remains a mystery, even to myself.
So far I am a stone down on my original gargantuan weight. Although it feels somehow wrong to be celebrating the fact that a size 18 no longer feels like an 18th Century corset on me, I am still quietly pleased to be back into my 'small' jeans, despite the fact that to most they would be grossly huge.
I am sure that the majority of my reduction is down to the sadistic personal trainer who smiles as he makes me drag my wobbly ass up flight after flight of stairs whilst lugging iron kettlebells behind me, a bit like poor old Marley dragging his chains as constant companions on an eternal painful journey.
You see I decided to solve the problem of my weight as I solve most conundrums - throw money at it. I am spending an amount that is almost as painful to contemplate as the sessions themselves, but if the results so far are anything to go by, I think it is worth every penny. Clearly this is how stars melt away the baby fat, it is so much easier to keep up the motivation when you have a six foot wall of muscle wielding a set of shiny dumb bells breathing down your neck.
I will also admit that escaping to the gym has also given me the odd break in the monotony of taking care of my four increasingly bored children. While I looked forward to the holidays like a thirsty desert traveller longs for a cooling oasis, once the main event was over my God did the days begin to drag. I think I ran out of ideas and patience around Boxing Day, and yet the children are still not back at school thanks to the thoughtful addition of two inset days.
Today I enlisted my mum to help me entertain them and we marched them off to London Zoo which was infested with photographers snapping shots of the keepers counting their animals like latter day Noahs for the annual stocktake. The paps with their huge lenses and psuedo flack jackets were almost as fascinating to small boys as the exotic species.
My boys' interest levels in the livestock rose and fell directly in line with how likely it was that they might be able to dish out a fatal wounding, so lions, poisonous frogs, snakes and spiders were kings of the beasts, while vibrantly plumed birds and fluffy little monkeys were given short shrift. Still it was another day passed and 24 hours closer to back to school. Hurrah.
I just hope when relative peace reigns throughout the house once again the gym won't lose it's attraction as a haven of serenity amidst the chaos of family life. Still there's always the weekends.
Happy New Year to one and all and fingers crossed in 2011 this blog will be all about me and my ever decreasing circumference....
P.S. a big fat thank you to all at the wonderful Ready for Ten for including little old FDMTG in their round up of the top 50 blogs for 2010. Not sure after recent neglect it is entirely deserved, but perhaps I will live up to the compliment this year.
