211.2

Since I wasn't able to weigh myself on Friday, I hopped on the scale this morning after Hubs and Kid left for the day. Not bad, not bad.

I drank a looooot of water in the hospital (I learned after my C-section that the more you pee, the more likely they are to send you home) and so far I've managed to keep it up at home. I'm averaging about two liters a day. Plus, thanks to my SUPER-FANTASTIC-AMAZING-THERE-ARE-NOT-ENOUGH-POSITIVE-ADJECTIVES-TO-DESCRIBE-HER mom, my fridge is full of salad, chicken, low-fat yogurt, fruit, and Lean Cuisines. As if that weren't enough, Hubs fulfilled my request for a big pile of pineapple and raspberries, so I've had that for breakfast. Mmmmm.

I'm having a little trouble with this whole inactivity thing, though. I mean, I'm not ready to go run the Boston Marathon, but sitting around all day with a book and/or my laptop, nodding off for a nap every few hours? Not as fun as it might sound. It might be easier if I were in pain, but (finally!) I'm not -- even without the painkillers. My incision is a little sore, mostly because it's healing around the staples, but I was in more pain on a daily basis before the operation than I am now. So my brain says, "Well, shit, you went to work and school and took care of the house and did all your usual things when we were in pain...now we have no pain and you're doing diddly squat! Get off your butt and clean something!"

It doesn't help that Smith is in full-on crazy fitness mode. He decided that he wanted to get back into "good shape" and thus has been working out like a madman, sneaking over here in the early morning to use our gym, using the gym at work, etc. Oh and apparently he's swimming, too? (There you go, ladies. Thought for the day: Smith in a Speedo.) I'm jealous! I want to swim! I want to run! I want to have biceps that don't fit through my shirtsleeves! Wait...what?

I'm trying to be patient. I keep telling myself to let my body heal, that my motivation will still be there when my body is finally ready. It's just a matter of time.