Age: 3months & 2weeks

Gabriele had his injections the other day and he had needles in both of his legs again which was absolutely horrible and I wish I could have taken them for him or be able to have given him a bag of chocolate buttons to make everything better. But all I could do was walk him around the room and hold him tight against my heart and tell him how brave he was. It’s the worst thing in the world seeing your children cry and I pray to God that it won’t ever happen unnecessarily. He has one more set of needles in a months time and then that should be it for a while, it’s strange to think that he’s already being alive for just over three month now as I think of him as being so old and having being with us forever, but at the same time it’s literally still only a matter of weeks that he’s been with us and he’s still a little baby. One second he feels so young and the next so grown up. It really is strange.

Gabriele Smiling In His New Pirate T-Shirt

He has totally outgrown his baby bath now and we’ve started putting him in the bath with his big sister Millie every time and she absolutely loves having him in there with her. He lies on her legs and she holds him around the chest and tummy and he splashes around and talks and giggles. Gone are the days when we’d have to bribe him to stay in the baby bath with a bottle of milk, now we can’t get him out of the bath because the kids love playing together so much! And he has bubbles in the bath, which has been a big step after the midwives and doctors say one day it’s fine to use baby soap and lotions and the next it’s strictly water only. But we feel he’s big enough to have bubbles and his skin hasn’t reacted badly, nor has it made him itch or upset so there you go: initiative!

Gabriele is developing his little giggles from a deep coo into a couple of hoo-hooo’s at a time when he finds things funny, especially when we stick our tongue out or smile at him like crazy clowns. We only have two more weeks until we can try him on solids and we have baby rice and porridge in the cereal cupboard looking absolutely delicious and ready for his first meal – and perhaps a little smackeral for Mummy to try too.

The chubby little pudding is now wearing 9-12month clothes! Good grief, he’s only three and a half months old. We’re hoping that he might not outgrow us before his second birthday or doing the school run could be interesting with our baby having to ride on the car roof rack like something out of ‘Honey I Blew Up The Kids’. So long as he picks me up and rocks me to sleep at night in his arms I wouldn’t half mind? His hair is gradually starting to thicken and I’m far too excited I’m almost counting hairs in anticipation of a cute little mop of brown hair framing his face, it changes a baby so much to have hair and I’m crossing my fingers and toes that it grows nice and quickly in time for winter.

Recently we’ve been having a crisis with Gabriele’s name which in Italian is pronounced as ‘Gabri-L.E’ but at the hospital and doctors appointments the staff still call out his name as Gabrielle and ask how our daughter is, despite the paperwork in front of them stating he is a boy and the fact that we constantly dress him in little blue baby grows, dungarees, trousers and shirts.

Millie And Gabriele Taking A Bath

I’m feeling restless again now and I don’t know why. I look at life and see all of these things that I want to do and achieve and all of my dreams, hopes and aspirations and they seem so near yet so far at the same time. I’m thinking about us moving to a bigger house and at the back of my mind in the early hours of the morning when I’m sat feeding Gabriele his bottle I’ve already designed a tree house for the garden and picked out colour schemes for the playroom to make our home as ergonomically appropriate and warm and welcoming for the children as possible. We almost bought a new seven seater car last week but decided against it at the last minute, I just feel so up and down with my enthusiasm; one moment I want everything this second and the next I think what’s the hurry we have years to get everything in order.

Then I look at marriage and how incredibly happy I would be if Luca said to me tomorrow let’s set a date to get married and start planning the wedding. We actually went to a bridal shop today to have a look at dresses and the owner advised we order the dress a minimum of eight months before the wedding in order to have it handmade; and literally the whole time she was talking to me I could actually picture us standing on a stunning beach somewhere in the sun, holding hands and kissing like at the end of a Hollywood film and I really hope I didn’t unconsciously zone out and start making fish kissing faces to her as she was talking to me, like when I’m asleep and start chewing really loudly because I’m dreaming about eating. But then I think if we were to set a date for a wedding next year or the year after in order to get the dress of my dreams then it would definitely mean no more babies until at least the honeymoon unless we have a midwife on the front row of the church just incase I popped the baby out during our vows. So the big question is do we wait another two years to try for a baby? Which followed by ten months to grow the little one, would total almost three years and by then Millie would be eight and Gabriele at preschool. And that’s if we even get married in the next two years because in reality it could be a lot longer. OR do we go ahead and have another baby sharpish and then risk me never being able to fit into a wedding dress again? After two babies my body shape and weight has changed enough already, but what would I be like after three!? Only God knows how my hips and thighs would react to a third little chicken! And it would then take months for me to even look human enough to even wear a wedding dress without looking like the bride of Frankenstein. I still have such dark circles under my eyes from being up with Gabriele but with a third child I doubt I’d ever sleep again for the next three years.

So BLAH! What to do, what to dooo. Not rush into things? Wait for a sign? Wait for the right time? Wait until one day it’s too late? Or just wait for it to be taken out of my hands and the decisions made on my behalf? I wonder how other women know what they want out of life and realise when it is they have everything they’ve ever wanted and need nothing more. Life is such a never ending story and it would make it all the more simple if I could just get a heads up as to the synopsis.

So this morning I stepped up to the scales with a curious yet cheeky barefooted tiptoe – I secretly think my socks may weigh about four or five pounds at least on the scales and always take them off, because I know that I need all of the help I can get to keep the scales on my side recently. I’ve been a little piggy as per usual and haven’t exercised, I’ve had double portion sized dinners through sheer greed and nothing more, I’ve eaten curries for breakfast, had chinese take aways at midnight and had a Noodle Nation for lunch today instead of my enthusiastic fresh green salad wilting away in the fridge that I suspect may already be several days out of date despite being unopened. The bags of salad take pride of place in the shopping trolley every week and promise to set me afoot a healthy well proportioned week of sensible eating, and then look like sad sloppy and somewhat stinky uneaten seaweed by the end of the week and it happens every time. I think I’m in denial, food denial, I’m not a healthy eater at all, I just like my fridge looking healthy incase an unsuspecting guest should wander into my home and peek inside the fridge door and judge my parenting abilities solely based upon the contents of my fridge. And just as I would imagine a shambolic dating site, where a person might view a potential partners profile because they are a stunning Angelina Jolie look-a-like but in person turn out to be Susan Boyle (who is beautiful in her own right but not an Angelina Jolie look-a-like); I think people could easily feel the same about my fridge, seeing the fresh green rows of vegetables and salads, and then I walk in and they ask me what I’ve done with the skinny vegetarian who owns the fridge. I’m considering getting hypnotised to change my outlook on food and get back onto the healthy track and delete the fast-food numbers from off of the speed dial on my landline.

But anyway, this weeks-weigh in is here again perhaps a little too soon for my liking, but I’m a little surprised that I haven’t put on any weight as I’ve managed to somehow maintain my last weeks poundage. So looking at the pictures, how am I fairing up? Well firstly I have my bum cheeks out in a G-String for the world to see and it seems I’ve only just realised this may be a little strange for the people who know me, or for people I am still yet to meet who may have read my blog and can picture my junk in the trunk smiling at them as I say hello – please accept my advanced apologies and try not to think about this. But in the spirit of giving a true account of the ups and downs of pregnancy and child bearing I bare all selflessly in the hope of helping and informing others. From the good to the bad, the very bad and the ugly, I want to give an unbarred account of a females perspective and hope that I am delivering on all accounts.

My Weight Loss 14 Weeks After Giving Birth

Looking at my tummy, my belly button is no longer a smashed up floppy hole as it’s starting to take a springy and tightened form once more, to a degree that I’m considering putting my piercings back in if that doesn’t make me look like mutton dressed as lamb too much. I still have a sticky out tummy as it’s far from washboard ready, it’s just as well we have a combi washer dryer in the kitchen or my clothes would always be dirty and wet if it was left to my abs alone to cater for the washing in our household.

I still can’t grasp what or where my pelvic floor is or how I should be exercising it appropriately for my age and standing in life for being a mother of two. My legs feel chunky and dimple at the top when I sit down in shorts and as I can’t face the thought of exercise right now I’ve compromised for squatting over the toilet when I go for a wee in a vague attempt to work on my thighs, perhaps in a few months I’ll be able to squat during a poo if I can build up enough stamina, that’s one for the goal sheet! My bum and belly shakes when I walk too fast or wear flat shoes and stomp. My breasts feel like lumps of silicone in two deflated balloons and I’ve stocked up on Super Absorbent tampons in supressed-anticipation for next months visit from Mother Nature. And so life gradually returns to normal, and even though I wouldn’t dare wear a bikini anytime this year, I think I’m gradually edging closer to accepting my body as a mother of two, for all of the globules and the glory! Ha! x

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Tracy Kiss

Social influencer, Bodybuilder, Mother, Vegan
London, UK

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