So I'm no longer troubled by the number (especially since I don't know it) but I am still troubled. I look exactly the same as I did three weeks after Silas was born, only smaller. Everything is still ... jiggly. It's NOT cute, and I am really grateful it's wintertime so it's a little easier to hide it. Which means I'm going to have to - you guessed it - exercise.
Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy exercising. Once I get into it. Getting started is miserable. Everything is going to be stiff and tight and way harder than it should be, because I haven't gotten my heartrate up in an embarrassingly long time (since Asher was six months old, actually). I have a few DVD's that will work, and I always say I'm going to start running, but somehow I never do. Something always comes up, which is to say I always make sure something comes up. I really don't want to run, I just want a runner's body. If only it worked that way.
So this is me, sucking it up, since I can't suck it in forever. Wish me luck.