I am not a small person. I've been overweight all my life - or at least told I was. And when you're told something enough, eventually you live into it. It's funny to look back at photos of my childhood. My tummy was not flat, but I had opportunity to be healthier. It wasn't the feed in my head though. I was fat. And now, I am fat.
Here's the thing about my fatness...I'm ok with it. I've lived so long in this body that I accept me. I think having babies will do that too. I no longer have any secrets about my vessel.
Because I'm ok with my body, I don't feel a strong pull to do much about it. I also realize that life expectancy for overweight and obese people is shorter. Last research reflects eight years shorter. Because I now have babies and my life could be made shorter, I feel suddenly feel that pull.
I decided more than a year ago that I would look into weight loss surgery. Looking back, it wasn't my idea, but that's another story. I pursued it with passion and focused on my eating for the six months my insurance company required of me. I lost over 50lbs and have kept most off. I had an epiphany prior to setting the date that my goal is to extend my life. Going under for an elective medical procedure could actually cause me to miss my goal. What if something went wrong? I would have made no positive impact on my situation. In fact, the complete opposite would be true. I decided to go it alone.
Of course, then life happened. I moved home, moved offices, moved away from my researched healthy eating spots and was surrounded by fast food. I was no longer losing or maintaining. I was gaining. I've gained a total of 20 lbs since I've been home - a little less than a year. I've felt a tug for about six months to do something about what I was seeing, but honestly, I barely survive some days. Eating healthy and focusing on myself in that way just seemed too big.
In walks a small group of Weight Watchers advocates. Quietly, people in my life were counting points each day. Slowly, I was hearing of inches and pounds lost. And then there were these two little boys who really want a mommy who plays with them...and if you have boys you know that's not for the weak.
I jumped in. With great support from my girlfriends, I count points, consume ungodly amounts of water and carry post-it notes with me to restaurants...all in the name of weight loss. And you know what? It's working pretty well. I'm down approximately six pounds in my short run. I'm feeling better. I bought workout shoes. (easy, I'm not there yet) And most importantly, I began to listen. And you know what I heard? I heard God. I heard him through my friends and my family. I heard that I'm important. I matter. My boys need me. I deserve to feel good...and SO much more!
So, in honor of those of you who have gone before me, those of you currently on this journey with me and those of you considering the journey, I tell you I'm committed! I'll cheer on each of you as I'm learning others will do for me.
I offer thanks to each of you involved in inspiring me. Knowingly or not, you may have helped me have eight years more with my children and perhaps my children's children. I'm forever grateful.
The title of this post is dedicated to my BFF who loves when alliterative spellings are changed. Love you!
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
I got this.
Not surprisingly, I never expected to be where I am right now. I didn't expect to be a single mother to two of the cutest, most precious children - both under age four and both with their brand of challenges. This was not my plan. Because of that, I seem to find difficulty "choosing" my life. I'm not one that does well with being stuck. I don't even enjoy it if my kids want to play "wrap mommy with Spiderman's web". I have to unwrap myself. (makes for an interesting game since my kids don't give up easily) My point is, if I'm going to live this life, I need to choose this life. I heard someone say recently, 'Either stand up and take care of your life or roll over and die'. I'm sure that's grossly misquoted, but that's exactly what I got from what I heard. I tell myself, I'm too old to do this alone. I'm too lazy. I'm too stuck in my ways. I'm too controlling. These are all excuses. I don't want to be "too" anything and yet where it counts the most I'm too "too". That's my self-assessment for today.
My children are having a hard time right now. My oldest is reeling from the effects of the divorce. If I leave his line of vision, he's looking for me with tears and a very dramatic outcry. It's heart rendering, no question. My little one is biting, suddenly. He's teething and whatever else but he thinks it's funny he gets in trouble for this. No doubt both situations are heavily fueled by personality, but if our family unit were still four strong, I know things would be different. All just a background, this is actually about my Sunday, January 22nd.
Today began no different than any other Sunday, with the exception I had to rethink my plan to visit church #2 we enjoy. It seems my little guy found someones arm quite tasty last week and now the girl who never knew embarrassment has become the mother who can't face return to the scene of his crime. As a result, I was concerned my children would be dead from my hand by noon. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Not only did I manage to clean up my house, I was able to unload my car of a ridiculous amount of junk and trash collecting. I sifted and organized and found ways to utilize my three year old to the good of the task. That was my first victory. My second came when my oldest went to Awana's this evening. Not wanting to separate, I caught the eye of the lead teacher in his room and had a silent conversation with my eyes only. He found his way to us and gave me time to turn and go. It was time for little guy/mommy one-on-one time.
I wasn't sure what this would look like but one had to be easier than two kids at once. Ladies and gentlemen, if you have multiple kids and you're a parent, I strongly urge you to spend one-on-one time with each child. Under two years of age could still grasp what it meant to have mommy all to himself. It was a beautiful hour. We rode bikes, visited family, and ran and played. And when I said "Stop!", out of nowhere, he did! Victory #3.
As we picked up brother, both boys were crying (the sign of a really good time, I noted), so I suggested a taco - it makes everything better. Planning for the typical drive thru experience, my three year old asked me if we could go into the "wenchwant", to which I gave my standard, "Not this time, no" response. A little more background here: I NEVER eat in public alone with my kids. It's challenging enough at a family members house where one or more extra sets of hands are available. But something told me we could do this. Maybe it was the high from the day. I certainly felt more confident. Everyone in the car (except me) was very excited. I was unsure I would leave the place with two children. Anything could go wrong...not to mention we were going for bean and cheese tacos. That's it's own brand of awful. Let me tell you, I thought quickly on my feet, I managed to help both boys feed themselves and I even ate (a rarity). We left with everyone in one piece and I was even feeling generous enough to get them dessert to go. I must be honest, this happened through the drive thru. I'm not Superwoman, people.
My guys are now clean and sleeping peacefully. I was headed to bed myself when I thought the best way to remember exactly how capable I am is to catalog my success here...with you. I'm really feeling settled into my existence. I expect I'll continue to be caustic in my humor, tired and beaten down on a regular basis. Hey, I wouldn't be me if I only wrote of the good. But I also know I'll write of the good. And it won't be one home run out of 30 at bats. I may actually earn the success of the clean up guy. Now if only I could get paid like him. Then I might actually enjoy every day. Bah! Right.
My children are having a hard time right now. My oldest is reeling from the effects of the divorce. If I leave his line of vision, he's looking for me with tears and a very dramatic outcry. It's heart rendering, no question. My little one is biting, suddenly. He's teething and whatever else but he thinks it's funny he gets in trouble for this. No doubt both situations are heavily fueled by personality, but if our family unit were still four strong, I know things would be different. All just a background, this is actually about my Sunday, January 22nd.
Today began no different than any other Sunday, with the exception I had to rethink my plan to visit church #2 we enjoy. It seems my little guy found someones arm quite tasty last week and now the girl who never knew embarrassment has become the mother who can't face return to the scene of his crime. As a result, I was concerned my children would be dead from my hand by noon. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Not only did I manage to clean up my house, I was able to unload my car of a ridiculous amount of junk and trash collecting. I sifted and organized and found ways to utilize my three year old to the good of the task. That was my first victory. My second came when my oldest went to Awana's this evening. Not wanting to separate, I caught the eye of the lead teacher in his room and had a silent conversation with my eyes only. He found his way to us and gave me time to turn and go. It was time for little guy/mommy one-on-one time.
I wasn't sure what this would look like but one had to be easier than two kids at once. Ladies and gentlemen, if you have multiple kids and you're a parent, I strongly urge you to spend one-on-one time with each child. Under two years of age could still grasp what it meant to have mommy all to himself. It was a beautiful hour. We rode bikes, visited family, and ran and played. And when I said "Stop!", out of nowhere, he did! Victory #3.
As we picked up brother, both boys were crying (the sign of a really good time, I noted), so I suggested a taco - it makes everything better. Planning for the typical drive thru experience, my three year old asked me if we could go into the "wenchwant", to which I gave my standard, "Not this time, no" response. A little more background here: I NEVER eat in public alone with my kids. It's challenging enough at a family members house where one or more extra sets of hands are available. But something told me we could do this. Maybe it was the high from the day. I certainly felt more confident. Everyone in the car (except me) was very excited. I was unsure I would leave the place with two children. Anything could go wrong...not to mention we were going for bean and cheese tacos. That's it's own brand of awful. Let me tell you, I thought quickly on my feet, I managed to help both boys feed themselves and I even ate (a rarity). We left with everyone in one piece and I was even feeling generous enough to get them dessert to go. I must be honest, this happened through the drive thru. I'm not Superwoman, people.
My guys are now clean and sleeping peacefully. I was headed to bed myself when I thought the best way to remember exactly how capable I am is to catalog my success here...with you. I'm really feeling settled into my existence. I expect I'll continue to be caustic in my humor, tired and beaten down on a regular basis. Hey, I wouldn't be me if I only wrote of the good. But I also know I'll write of the good. And it won't be one home run out of 30 at bats. I may actually earn the success of the clean up guy. Now if only I could get paid like him. Then I might actually enjoy every day. Bah! Right.
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