Seventeen Again

I am losing weight. I will have my 17-year old body back, with the strength and stamina to keep up to the physical demands of a toddler and an infant hell-bent on conquering gravity. All this is possible, attainable and on a timeline of one year. From now. And no, I'm not crazy or suicidal.

Let's break it down.

At first it started as a desire to be more present as a positive figure for the kids; to be more active and not just cope with my role as mother and homemaker. I wanted more energy to lead a more productive, positive life to set an example for our growing girls. Lately I've been feeling so run down that I haven't been at my best. I mean, I have a strong personality and can be cantankerous. But lately I've been cranky, short-tempered, easily frustrated and impatient. More than usual! Especially since the girls have just had a bout with the cold bug, I'm just plain exhausted. I do have help from my family, but I still feel drained at the end of the long, long day.

Things kind of snowballed from there. I realized that I wanted so much more for the kids, for RF, for our family. From life, for our life! For myself! Self-examination really does cook up a lot of food for thought! One small decision makes a lot of ripples, affecting everything in our lives. One small change makes a huge difference.

I know it's not going to be overnight nor is it going to be easy. But I also know it's going to be interesting and so worth it, a year from now!
Even reaching just half my goal at that time would be fantastic. I'm not sabotaging my motivation, mind you. I'm just being realistic. I'm keeping my eyes on that cheese but I won't kill myself over it. Also, I'm still going to be breastfeeding Olly. All changes would have to consider her health and well-being as well.

Now, at 31 years old, I weigh about 180 lbs. at my height of 5'1. (Ugh. I just revealed to the world what, until now, only my medical records know!) At 17, I was 120 lbs. Wow. Saying 14 years of poundage sounds better than saying by exactly how much I'm over the right weight!

Good GOD.

That there, are 60 lbs. of bad food and bad habits, sneaking up on you. You'd think 4 lbs a year wouldn't be so bad!

So my goal is to lose 60lbs in 12 months. 5 lbs per month, 1lb a week.

*long pause*

Can I lose in 1 year what took me 14 years to gain?

Moving To The Front Row

Change seems to be the theme for the rest of the year for me. Not just any change, mind you. Significant ones.

While I've had many, many changes in my life, both big and small, I can only count a few that I've truly decided upon, taken charge of and did not just leave up to fate.

Oona, Olly and Mommy

When Oona blew out the candles for her 3rd birthday last August 15, I couldn't help feeling that my baby was growing up too fast for me! Huffy puffy Mommy trying desperately to catch up with her mile-a-minute mind, rapid-fire questions and road-runner legs. Let's not forget 6 month old butterball Olly, challenging time and human evolution by constantly trying to crawl and stand ahead of schedule and fly off the bed, in defiance of gravity. It takes all the mommy powers I can muster to last the day with these two bundles of energy! So as Oona's candles poofed out, the idea of a change that MUST happen flared to life. I wanted to be more involved in the laughter and fun in their lives. I don't want to just exist from chore to chore, duty to duty, stretching what I had to cover what needed to be done for the kids. I wanted to have more out of the relationship we share. I didn't want to be too tired to enjoy being with them.

Really, most days, I'm too pooped to be fun, I'm short-tempered and more of an ogre than I care to admit. Sound familiar, anyone?

Like most mothers, our priorities revolve around the kids, our husbands and partners, our families. We put ourselves, by default, in second, third and even last place. But our roles, quite by paradox, always demand that we be at the front line of everything for the family. Yes, like soldiers.

We barely even have time for ourselves like we used to because there's the guilt that every available time and attention should be invested in the kids, the husband and the family or else you're not being a good wife or mother.

That's not fair, is it? Does that sound like your internal dialogue?

Let's be realistic. We can't expect others to take care of us. It would be great, yes! But we have to take the initiative to do things for ourselves. We can't expect martyrdom or a shaft of light from heaven transforming us into perfection. You'd have to be dead, I think and I want to be alive to enjoy myself.

In a nutshell, I want enough of me to go around and have something left for ME. I don't want to feel run down
anymore because I should be enjoying myself and the time I have with the kids. I know they won't be babies for long and sooner than I would like to, they'll be spreading their wings to fly solo. So for a change, I think I ought to put myself in the front row of my life, our family's life!

I want more. I want the place of privilege I know I deserve.

To be there not just as a frontliner at the trenches, but sitting pretty, joining in the fun and laughter, making good, happy memories, watching my kids and my family bloom and grow from my plush front row seat.

I am daring to be in front.