Photo credit: picture by Chris_J

I was a different shape before I became a mum. My boobs were a little fuller, my bum was a little rounder.

I had made a conscious effort to “get fit”, going to the gym three times a week and killing myself at spinning classes. But I was no fitness fanatic – I was just aware there was too much flesh in places that had, before, been smoother.

On having a baby, my body changed.

The boobs became bigger, the belly became wobblier. But, overall, my actual weight wasn’t much different. And that’s how I know never to measure my body’s shape by how much it weighs. My body just doesn’t work like that.

I can have “fat days” where the scales tell me I weigh less than the week before. I can have “thin days” where my favourite jeans slide on without so much as a wiggle, but the scales tell me I’m heavier than I once was.

Since taking on a job in January that involves getting up at 3.30am and being on the go until 10pm, my body has steadily changed yet again.

I cope with tiredness by eating. Everything. Breakfast at 5am, another breakfast at 9am, a rushed snack from the petrol station on the way home (and you know it’s not going to be a salad), another snack with my hungry toddler in the afternoon, a meal around 5pm and more snacking.

Biscuits, cake, chocolate, crisps – these are all my friend. As is anything that can give me a quick sugar rush and fool my body into thinking it has enough fuel to get through another 6 hours without sleeping.

This is not good.

Slowly, I’ve noticed a bit of a double chin developing. My hips are no longer hips, instead sporting extra padding in the form of “love handles”.

Breakfast radio is not good for the figure.

So, around a month ago, I decided to do something about it.

Realistically, a gym membership is out of the question. With working at a radio station in the morning, running around after my toddler in the afternoon and all my writing work in the evenings, I am time poor. There is no time to preen myself like there was in the old days.

So I turned to the internet.

Twitter came up trumps. There seemed to be lots of buzz around @ThinkingSlimmer. Rolling my eyes and stifling a yawn, I inwardly scoffed, “As IF. Another faddy dieting thing. Whatever.”

But then we did a radio show about fad diets. I remembered this Twitter account and contacted the people behind @ThinkingSlimmer. Sandra Roycroft-Davies appeared on our show and I was intrigued by what she had to say. Rather than encouraging a diet, Sandra told me it was possible to retrain your mind to learn new habits.

For me, these habits mean not thinking about food ALL THE TIME. Not diving into the petrol station for a daily sausage roll to keep me company on the way home. And putting myself further up my list of priorities.

I started listening to one of the company’s “Slim Pods“. The ten minute piece of audio was very much like some form of meditation. Lulling me to sleep within minutes, rather than the former tossing and turning scenario. Waking from a deep sleep at 3.30am every day, I haven’t felt dead. I’ve actually been ready to face the day.

And I’ve stopped eating sausage rolls.

Instead, I still eat at the times I used to eat, but rather than crisps and cake, it’s been soup, toast, fruit, water. The kind of stuff my body actually needs to run on, rather than the stuff that tricks it.

And Sandra? She’s been lovely. The odd phone call to remind me to stop saying “Yes” to everything. The odd email to reprimand me for staying up too late working. Just like my mum really.

I have no idea if I weigh less than I did a month previously. But, for me, it’s not about that. I no longer have to breathe in when I put my jeans on. I’m sleeping better. I’m eating better. I feel better.

But I’m not going to stop listening to the audio before bed. It’s an ongoing thing – I need more than a month of listening to help me give up habits that have taken 6 months to form.

So the sausage rolls aren’t quite safe yet.

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Disclosure: This is a review post. All words and opinions are my own. I was given a free copy of the Slimpod for review purposes.

The post The quest for body beautiful appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

It’s been about balancing on the edge of a cliff face, determined not to fall off. It’s been about struggling to maintain a sense of calm while a million things on my “to do” list whizz through my head.

It’s been about trying to be the best mum I can possibly be, while being the best radio presenter I can possibly be, while being the best copywriter I can possibly be, while being the best blogger I can possibly be, while being the best feature writer I can possibly be. And still remain some sort of wife to my husband.

In short, it’s been about survival against the ravages of tiredness and stress, for happiness to reign supreme.

But it’s not been about staying alive.

That’s what I tell myself every time I want to moan. Every morning when the alarm screeches into my dreams at 3.45am and I unglue my eyelids, I remind myself I am alive. I am happy. I am loved. I love.

My health, my child’s health and my husband’s health is, thankfully, intact. My sister is healthy, as is my father, mother and every other member of my extended family.

Every afternoon, when the toddler’s mood darkens and the storm clouds of rage threaten to break into an almighty tantrum, I remind myself I am lucky. I am alive. Happy. Loved. Love.

To be alive, healthy, happy. To love and be loved. Surely it’s all anyone can wish of their life?

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This post is written as part of the #dosomethingyummy campaign from CLIC Sargent, to raise awareness of Yummy Mummy Week on 10th to 18th March 2012.

You can show your support by taking part in the writing prompt over at I Am Typecast and sharing these posts on Facebook and Twitter.  

The post Survival appeared first on Mother's Always Right.