fat Archives - Rupert Approves

Exercise and Training, Pregnancy and Parenting

About That Body Change.

October 20, 2017 5 Comments

I met the girls for dinner last night, and the restaurant happened to be right next to my gym, so I quickly ran in to swipe my card and leave. I’m getting those nasty little email reminders from the gym about my membership, and infrequent visits and and and… It’s really very needy. I am just not finding the time to breathe, let alone exercise at the moment. I investigated preggy yoga and preggy bellies, but again was reminded just how unsuited these places are towards moms who actually work. It feels like a foreign concept to them. Who on earth can go to a Pilates at 9 or a preggy class at 4 pm? The same woman who probably have au pairs and breakfast at Tashas on a Monday morning. Ugh. Alas, yee of the working class just doesn’t have that luxury. In fact, I’m working harder now than pre-fetus because between you and me and thousands of readers I am freaking the fuck out about money and savings and education and and and. But that’s a post for anther time.

I digress. Tomorrow I will be 20 weeks with this pregnancy, and so far I’ve been totally OK abut my body image. At my checkup yesterday they doctor told me I have technically lost 6 kilograms, as I haven’t gained any weight yet and at this stage of pregnancy I should be 6 kilos heavier – so even though that was a small victory, it was short lived.

I got home from work yesterday and wanted to change into something more comfy for dinner. So I slipped off my dress and started rummaging around in my cupboard. Sadly, before I had a chance to put the fresh outfit on I saw my reflection in the mirror. My boobs have those tell-tale purple veins – I can almost see the milk flowing through them – and my love handles are clearly in the honeymoon period, for they spilleth over my hippeth like a river. I’m soft to the touch and any firmness my body once possessed has disappeared, along with the ability to control my bladder.

I remember this with Carter, but with 5 months to go still I’m quite distraught at the prospect of having to hate my body for a long time to come. Plus let’s not even get started at the post baby body – remember this fat post?

Anyway. Not a lot I can do now, I’m so far up the duff that it’s really fruitless to stress too much about it. All I can do is try maintain the good eating and try re-start on the exercise. I’ve downloaded an app catered for maternity exercises and all I need to do is activate my subscription and just do it, I guess. Tomorrow, or maybe Monday. Monday sounds good.

Beauty Review, Life

Readers, Lend Me Your Brains.

June 10, 2016 39 Comments

I have a lot on my mind – everything from finishing a rather massive race in 9 day’s time, to re-doing my entire house décor. So, seeing as you bunch are so freaking smart, I thought I’d try a new crowdsourcing exercise and get feedback from my readers – all of you! So, if you can help/answer any of the below queries, then I will send you a package of dolphin tears and glitter

I want to try do these concrete kitchen counter tops at home – does anyone know of a supplier or someone who does this? Also, because its concrete does it mean I will need to reinforce my existing cupboards and doors? (Look at me sounding all building savvy).

I need to make a photobook – who are the best suppliers/website/template makers out there?

I love this wood wall look for behind my TV in my lounge. Do I need a specific wood and does it have to be treated? (The husband is convinced it’s a breeding ground for termites). Then, is it easy enough to do as a DIY project, or should I rather go the trusty builder route?

Under eye fillers. I can’t stop thinking about having this done ever since my GP gently encouraged me. I’m also convinced it will stop everyone from asking me if I’m tired. All.The.Time. Yay/nay? Have you had fillers done? Where?

Weight loss. After 4 months of religiously training for Half Iron Man I’m still sitting with a lump ‘o lard around my tummy, and feeling very sorry for myself. (I was SO sorry for myself this morning and almost tripped a skinny bitch in the change rooms as she waltzed around in a G-string and non-mom boobs). I think after the race I’m going take up more Pilates and strength training. I also want to adjust my eating plan slightly – I can’t do banting as I don’t eat any meat. What’s worked for you? I know there’s a lot of talk around fermented foods and how much it aids your digestion – I think that’s definitely a route I’m going to explore.

Shaving your face. Ok… so this has been met with much division, but I recently read this article on the benefits of (ladies) shaving their faces to aid skin renewal, exfoliate and slow the ageing process. Thoughts??

So looking forward to your comments and feedback. Especially from my mother around the eye fillers.

Pregnancy and Parenting, Uncategorized

I Hate Being Fat.

January 3, 2016 35 Comments

Its 36 degrees in Joburg, and I’ve just declined another swim. I’ll sit on the edge of the pool and joke about how “nobody wants to see a whale in their water”, and that “no costume in the world is big enough for this arse”, but I’m sweating while I joke, because it’s fucking 36 degrees outside, and I really want to swim. More than that, I really want to not be fat anymore.

Pregnancy, as easy as you were, you were exceptionally hard on me in one way. My body. I have never felt this out of sorts, this alien and this uncomfortable in my own skin. I don’t think I’ve lost a kilogram of baby weight, in fact, I feel like in the last 8 months I’ve simply gained and gained. I hate being fat. I hate it so much that I’ve decided, come what may, I will lose 10 kilograms by 1 May. I will be back to my pre baby self for my child’s first birthday.

In order to stick to my new plan, I need to be accountable, and I need to grow a set of lady balls and actually have the willpower to push through what is possibly going to be a very tough 4 months. So, with a 10 kilo goal in mind, what better way to remind myself of why I’m doing this, with 10 reasons why I hate being fat.

When I make a joke about being overweight and people respond with ‘I see’ or an awkward ‘Ya…’. That’s when you know. You know you’re big when people don’t even pretend to be kind in their replies. A new colleague said to me the other day “You were thin? I suppose I’ve only known you this size’. Ouch. I hated that.
I don’t fit into anything from before I had a baby. My gorgeous skinny pants, slinky vests, blazers and even bras have been chucked to the back of the closet. Replacing them are the size 12 jeans I bought on a 2 for 1 sale at Edgars, loose shirts, leggings and sports bras with added stretch. Not being able to wear anything that makes me look and feel good? I hate that.
The way people look at me – people closest to me, like certain family members. I feel their eyes on me whenever I take a bite of food or when I put on another pair of too tight pants. I hate the way they make me feel. I hate the guilt, I hate the shame. I hate feeling like I’m being judged for having the body I do. I hate that.
The sweat. I am always sweating. Being overweight means boob sweat, head sweat and feet sweat. It’s gross. I hate it.
I don’t feel like I get taken seriously in the work place. Silly hey? But still, I hate that.
I don’t feel like socializing, seeing people or going out. I no longer want to be the person sitting under the umbrella while everyone else swims or the one in the long maternity style maxi dress when everyone’s lying in a bikini. I hate that.
The way I feel at the gym. Physically I’m still gloriously strong, and I train 3 days a week. I can smash a spinning class, I’m building up my running resistance and I can probably lap most people in the pool. But the way I feel people looking at me in the gym? Like the token plump girl? I hate that.
Shopping. I love clothes, and fashion. I love beautiful things. I’m tired of buying gorgeous garments for ‘when I’ve lost the weight’ I want to wear them now. The fact that I have items with their tags still on, and clothes from pre-baby tucked away at the back of the closet, because I’m simply too fat to wear them? I hate that.
As if having a baby and a full time demanding career weren’t stressful enough on my marriage – try throw in body shame and self hate. I really don’t want to feel un-sexier than I do now. Changing in a locked bathroom so my husband cant see? I hate that.
Other moms who lost the baby weight. Especially those who did it from ‘breast feeding’ or the ones who did nothing at all (the weight just “fell off” and then apparently on to me) I hate you. And I hate the fact that I hate you which means I hate me even more. I hate it. (Side note, there are a few ladies on Twitter who have spoken me off a cliff more than once, and helped my confidence so much – I hope you know just how lovely your kind words are, and just how much they’ve meant to me).

There it is. The raw brutal honest truth. It’s out there on the Interwebs now, which means I’m accountable to me, and all of you. Please help me in this journey, and if possible share your own stories of postpartum plumpness. I promise I’ll be nice to you even if you were one of the ‘lost the weight straight away’ ones 😉 – hell, maybe you can even share some weight loss secrets with me.

In the spirit of starting fresh, of turning over a new leaf, and learning to love who I am. Happy New Year. Here’s to having the body of a (20)16 year old!

IMG_1132_1024 — November 2013. I’ve been happy with my body once. I just need to get back there.

Uncategorized

Babies, Bank Balances and Brain Failure.

October 5, 2015 18 Comments

There are so many things I love about having a baby. I’m not going to get into that now, but consider this my disclaimer:

I hereby declare my undying love and adoration for my son, and no children were hypothetically harmed in the making of this blog post.

Right, now that that’s off my chest, there are times when having a child makes life damn near impossible.

Yesterday, while driving to friends for champagne brunch, we realised that we had left Carter’s nappy bag at home. We were too far gone (read: lazy) to turnaround and go back to retrieve it, so I had to go into Pick n Pay and buy a whole tin of formula and a new bottle. Thank god the friend we were visiting has a baby of her own, so she didn’t actually die of gagging when Carter shat in his nappy, with such velocity, that the turd spilled out of his bum, into his clothes, then travelled out of said clothes, smeared onto their kid’s Bumbo seat and all the way up his body. Of course we had no cloths or towels on us, so I cleaned him up using spit, a wet wipe and a fleece blanket. Have you ever seen shit on a fleece blanket?

So yes, parental error and in no way my 5 month old child’s fault, but having a baby means remembering 40 hundred things all of the time. And when – 5 months prior – you could be as selfish as Eskom’s electricity supply, suddenly remembering all of these things comes as a massive lifestyle change.

This got me thinking – and silently applauding – every other parent out there, for there are things that become just plain impossible when you have a child.

Dating. Single parents OHMYGODHOWDOYOUDOIT? A friend was telling me about a lady she works with, single mom to an 8 year old, who has recently started dating again. Can you even imagine if I was single and had to go out and meet people? First of all, I would have to go out. As in willingly leave the house when the TV was mere meters away. What, do I leave my child alone with a bowl of water and bag of snacks? What would I wear? I still rely heavily on maternity leggings and nursing bras. Would I have to shave my legs? Now, imagine the conversations on this imaginary date:

Him: “So, read any good books lately?”

Me: “No. But I sometimes Google “Is this much wine bad for me” and “How to effectively drug your baby to sleep”

Him: “Er, Ok… what are your hobbies?”

Me: “I adore napping, but am generally too busy washing and sterilising items around the house. Sometimes I take long walks… with a screaming infant and 2 lazy bordering-on-obese-hounds”.

Then, there’s exercise. I posted a casual ‘Hey, I’m interested in yoga class’ on my Facebook page the other day, and berated myself almost immediately for doing so. What was I thinking? When on earth do I think I have time to Namaste when I should home pureeing butternut and bathing my baby. At this stage of my life I’m more ‘mama’ than ‘meditation’.

Then there’s money. Or lack thereof. My savings account has had a life size nose Frida inserted into it, and been sucked dry. I’ve spent my money on fun things like crèche, working mom guilt gifts and high chairs. Don’t even get me started on the pool fence quote I got last week. *Signs up to sell an organ*.

Sleep. This is possibly the one I miss the most. Yes, laugh away, I realise that for the first 4 months of my babies life when I gushed about “how easy it was” and “how much he slept” that you sat there thinking “just wait”. Gloat away people, for I now have egg (and dried snot, tears and drool) on my face. For my baby who shall be named, no.longer.sleeps. I have narrowed the list down to a small 65 reasons as to why this could be happening.

This then means that at work I become the biggest fucking bumbling idiot. People walk in a wide berth around “Crazy Kate” in the corner. Some days I have such brain failure that I’m surprised I don’t wee in my skirt because I’ve forgotten to go to the loo. Just last week I tried to use my computer mouse for close to 10 minutes before realising that it was my makeup compact.

Lastly, and I think this is a universal biggie – is that having a baby means you love something more than anything, yet hate yourself. I avert my eyes when I see myself in the mirror, I moan about the bags under my eyes, I joke about my stretch marked limp boobs and I starve myself to the point of tears to try and lose a little bit of the flab. I would never talk to a friend the way I talk to myself, so why is it OK to talk to myself that way? I should high-five myself while yelling “Well done lady, you made a human!”

However, for every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction (FYI – that really should be Newton’s first law, it totally trumps the others). Just as the tide comes in during the day, you can bet your broke fat ass that it will also go back out.

Carter will start sleeping again, I will lose the weight, single parents will meet someone so wonderful that they will want to introduce their kid to them and slowly but surely your bank balance will fill up.

But those bags under the eyes? Those will never go. Because, fuck you genetics.

Pregnancy and Parenting

Blake Lively, You Are Not helping Matters.

June 29, 2015 6 Comments

I just took a light jog with the dogs and the pram. In my nursing bra. My oversized boobs were literally flying into my mouth.

Why did I just take a jog with 2 dogs and a baby you ask? No, it was not to taste my own boob milk, nor was it to proudly display my multitasking skills whilst I clutched dog leash in one hand and bouncy breast in the other.

You see, my face slash body double Blake Lively has also recently given birth to a baby. I’m not sure of its name. Probably God.

Have you seen Blake Lively post partum? Wait did you see her pregnant? Holy mother of all things fertile, the woman looks like a Victoria Secret model. She’s all lean arms and legs, luscious hair and flat tummy. It’s depressing dear reader – and don’t for one second try to tell me she’s wearing spanx under her dress made of human skin. I tried them things. All that happened was that my post baby belly went from sitting around my waist, to being squished up around my chest, resulting in 2 sets of 36 D’s to deal with.

Im still wearing the pregnancy leggings I lived in for 9 months, and when I dare to wear a tight top I look 5 months knocked up. You guys, my cellulite has cellulite.

I had an easy pregnancy – so I guess this is my big pay back – the fat that won’t come off. What makes it even worse is that my bordering on problematic pregnancy cravings (white chocolate, vanilla cake, Kit Kat chunkys and toasted cheese sarmies have not at all abated). Harder still is that junk food is the easiest thing to eat when nursing a baby in one hand and fondling my fat rolls in the other.

I did go back to gym. Once. I signed Carter up to Club V, left him there and waddled off to the floor mats. There, I bumped into a lady I used to work with, who has the body of Blake Lively’s twin sister. She told me, very kindly, to go easy on myself. 12 months is a very long time to be stagnant, but I was too stubborn to listen. 8 jumping squats later I could actually feel myself starting to black out. 1 attempted plank and a handful of running lunges later and I think I actually DID pass out.

EIGHT DAYS LATER and I was only managing to sit down n the toilet again without crying.

I know I need to be patient, I know its only been 7 weeks and 6 days since I gave birth (and all the lard in the world is worth it when I look at this perfect little kid) but man, am I feeling crappy about this post baby body.

I guess, in a perfect world, I would have a nanny to give me some time off to hit the gym, a slew of maids to do the washing and drying and cleaning when my baby vomits all over his brand new outfit (again) and a million more hours in the day to get everything I need to done.

For now, I will take running up the street, clutching heaving bosoms in a nursing bra, whilst holding on to a pram and 2 hounds.

Welcome to motherhood.

Uncategorized

(Skinny) Bitch, Please

June 7, 2012 3 Comments

This is the anti-cupcake post. I need to get off the carb train and hit veggie central. You know those Kellogs Special K ads where they show ladies trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans by twisting themselves into various unnatural positions? That was me this morning. You also know that feeling when you see a reflection of a chubby person who looks a bit like you. Then realise it is you? Ya…

Luckily for me the Sleek Geek challenge is kicking off on Monday, and having heard various (awesome) things about it, I’ve decided to give it a go. The fact that I have to pay to enter, upload a before photo and actually change my body in 8 weeks is motivation enough.

The Sleek Geek challenge is open to pretty much any willing South African who wants to get off the couch and give their best body, their best shot. I have entered in the ‘toning category’ and so far there are 40 contestants who have signed up. The loot will be split at the end, so the potential monetary reward at the end is also a huge motivator.My end goal is to lose around 6 kilos. And to not wear jeans on the beach in December.

There are no rules as to how you can lose the weight, so each contestant is encouraged to find a programme/diet that works for them, and go with that. I’m pretty fit as is, running/gymming/mountain biking at least 4 days a week so all I need to do is stop eating food for a small village, and I should be OK.

Weigh-in and measurement is this Saturday. No, I will not post before pics. Well, maybe…but make sure you aren’t eating at the time.I have posted a pic of me currently, and 4 years ago form a magazine shoot. I want to look like that again.

If you are keen to enter or check it out, check out their Facebook and Twitter pages.