Move over, apple.

Some people bounce right back after having a baby - I am not one of them.  Knowing this from experience the first time around, I warned my husband that I was giving myself six weeks after my son was born to bum around in (his) sweatpants, binge watch Netflix, and get my life back together.

My son is now 8 weeks old.  I am thankfully out of the sweatpants, but my life is a faaaaar cry from being put together.

Last week was a particularly rough week in the sleep department.  My baby has horrible reflux which leads to lots of fussiness at night and very little sleep for me.  At the end of last week after The Toddler was in bed, I sat down with my head on the kitchen table, trying to get the energy to nurse The Baby before I could go to sleep.  Praying I would get more sleep that night.  Mourning how my love handles are extra lovey.  And thinking about how I was barely keeping myself together.

So I did the natural thing and signed up for a sprint triathlon in eight weeks.

But Heather!  You haven't swam or biked in many moons!  You have only ran 1.5 miles in the last 9 months!

What can I say?  New mom hormones do not mess around.

We'll see how this goes.  The goals are to not drown, to finish, to enjoy myself, and to not be last.  In that order.

No, I kid!  Not being last is way more important than enjoying myself! I can be happy once it's over, but the finishing times are immortalized on the Internets.

For the record, The Husband told me to sign up.  Because he knows that a workout a day keeps the crazies away.