Why I Stopped Following Fitness Blogs

Every time I go to the grocery store, I’m constantly looking for the best deal. Asparagus is $6 a bunch? Not the best deal. Spaghetti squash is $.49/lb? Best deal. Bananas are $.59/lb? Best deal.

Then I go online to find a new top or pair of pants and the comparison shopping continues. The Gap has a coupon but JCrew has my favorite. I get a teacher discount with JCrew but only in person or over the phone (I loathe ordering anything over the phone.) Carter’s is having a blowout doorbuster sale – better stock up on onesies for little miss. Pottery Barn Kids still doesn’t have that organizer on sale – keep waiting.

When I was pregnant, I used to compare myself to other pregnant women via social media.

Oh she’s 16 weeks too? But she’s not showing like I am. It must be fat in my belly.

Wow, look at her at 22 weeks. Barely a basketball. Mine could go through a hoop right now.

35 weeks? Really? I can hardly tell. But I am already being asked daily when I’m going to pop.

For the last six months, I’ve compared myself to other post-partum moms. Again with the belly. Hers is flatter or bigger or still there – unlike or just like mine.

The fitness IG accounts are the worst, in my opinion, for deflating a new mom, along with blogs of women that have two or three kids in tow as they do yoga on the beach, run around the block several thousand times, and/or work out in their driveways. I find myself constantly down about not being the active fit mom. For not being up at 4:30am to go to the gym every morning like I used to last year. For not having flat abs once again. For letting my thigh muscles wane.  For having jiggle where there wasn’t before.  For weighing less than I did pre-pregnancy but my clothes still don’t fit right. For having breasts that feed and don’t fit into a sports bra comfortably. For not picking up the five pound weights in between little miss’ wakefulness and working my biceps. And definitely for not having that flat belly back by the six week post partum mark.

At six months I should definitely have made some kind of progress in the fitness department. I mean come on! What else do I have to do all day long when I’m not working at school?

Never mind that little miss is back to waking every two hours at night. Never mind that breastfeeding is still working so I’m her midnight (and 2am and 4am) food source. Never mind that she’s not napping again so I’m trying to get her down by nursing, putting her in the swing, laying her in her crib, taking a car ride, wearing her in the Ergo pack, laying down with her. All in the same day. Never mind that there are loads of laundry to do, dinner to maybe think about never mind fix, vacuuming to be done, animals to take care of, and beds to be remade.

But I don’t have time to sit here and feel bad about myself for not looking like a fitness model or not doing burpees while little miss naps. She doesn’t nap, burps hurt my wrists, and I never looked like a fitness model anyway.