Repeatedly.
That's what it feels like. Right when I think I have my feet under me again, I'm tripping up again.
This is so, so, so frustrating.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Monday, April 7, 2014
Letting go of your excuses is so, so hard...
...and yet so, so liberating.
I've got 4 kids, days get a little crazy.
I am tired.
I don't have time.
The room I'd be exercising in is the playroom, and often you can't see the floor, so I'd have to clean up before exercising.
Healthy food isn't as easy to just grab as unhealthy food.
So I can't.
I got tired of my internal whining this weekend. I got tired of my own excuses. I came home from picking up my son from preschool, put my daughter down for a nap and then fed my baby. The baby likes to be held when he's awake, but I just put him in his swing, scooped all the toys into the bins (instead of spending the time actually organizing them like I like) and told Patrick to stay out from under my feet. My first grader came home before I was even really started, so I told her to leave me alone too.
I hate exercising when all my kids are home, because they're so distracting, but I did it anyway.
I put the first grader in charge of the baby, who eventually fell asleep, and I did an hour of zumba. And then had some baby carrots (and a small handful of M&Ms).
After the workout, I feel good. I feel more in control of my life.
Bring on tomorrow.
I've got 4 kids, days get a little crazy.
I am tired.
I don't have time.
The room I'd be exercising in is the playroom, and often you can't see the floor, so I'd have to clean up before exercising.
Healthy food isn't as easy to just grab as unhealthy food.
So I can't.
I got tired of my internal whining this weekend. I got tired of my own excuses. I came home from picking up my son from preschool, put my daughter down for a nap and then fed my baby. The baby likes to be held when he's awake, but I just put him in his swing, scooped all the toys into the bins (instead of spending the time actually organizing them like I like) and told Patrick to stay out from under my feet. My first grader came home before I was even really started, so I told her to leave me alone too.
I hate exercising when all my kids are home, because they're so distracting, but I did it anyway.
I put the first grader in charge of the baby, who eventually fell asleep, and I did an hour of zumba. And then had some baby carrots (and a small handful of M&Ms).
After the workout, I feel good. I feel more in control of my life.
Bring on tomorrow.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
It doesn't matter where you begin...
I took this picture a week and a half ago.
It was my new, post-partum starting pic. And then I made the mistake of comparing it to my last few before pregnancy and it triggered a depressed, self-sabotaging binge spiral during which I've gained an additional 4 pounds.
I've really been struggling with wondering why I should even bother. I *adore* my son, but it's been so frustrating to watch my hard work disappear as I just stand there helpless. So I've wallowed. And I'm good at wallowing. Problem with that, though, is that it's hard to get out sometimes.
On Wednesday I was going through the $1 section at Michael's when I saw a stamp that said "It doesn't matter where, just begin." I wasn't in a place to just jump on it right away, but I've been letting it percolate.
It doesn't matter that I am no longer where I was before. It doesn't matter where you begin...just do it.
Just begin.
I've really been struggling with wondering why I should even bother. I *adore* my son, but it's been so frustrating to watch my hard work disappear as I just stand there helpless. So I've wallowed. And I'm good at wallowing. Problem with that, though, is that it's hard to get out sometimes.
On Wednesday I was going through the $1 section at Michael's when I saw a stamp that said "It doesn't matter where, just begin." I wasn't in a place to just jump on it right away, but I've been letting it percolate.
It doesn't matter that I am no longer where I was before. It doesn't matter where you begin...just do it.
Just begin.
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