“Be sexy, no size zero!”
It’s in the hallway at the back in shape class. Whilst I am reading the “Be Sexy” poster, I am nursing baby number 3, who is not letting me work out. The other room is full of women attending a class in dress size 36 or max. 38, only a few months after giving birth. Their babies are either kicking peacefully or sleeping right next to them. The women seem completely relaxed and stress-free. All are training their pelvic muscles. So sexy.
After breastfeeding twice and now carrying a baby with a full nappy, I realize that my upper arms also need to be trained urgently. A big thanks to the designer of the all-round mirrored training room. After unsuccessfully trying to calm my baby down for half an hour, I go home.
What is that? The third child just comes along?
I admit: The first days and weeks started off very well. With a relatively relaxed baby. However, No. 3 has recently started to offer sleepless nights in addition to the impressive complaining during any of my activities. And that leads to tears of exhaustion and even a bit of anger from an otherwise hard-boiled three-time-mother.
Maybe I should also hang a poster in the hallway. Because one thing I know after four and a half years of having children:
It’s all just a phase. Everything will be fine. Everything is going to be fine. Even the upper arms.