{work in progress}

I always knew I wanted to become a mom, but I don't think I could have ever envisioned what being a mom really meant, until I lived a day as one. It's kinda the same for lots of things in my life. Fitness for example -- something I've always longed to be good at and do to live a long and healthy life -- but isn't always the easiest thing or exactly how I envisioned it being.

I'm now three weeks into my fitness challenge and have already succeeded in losing 55% of my goal weight with 10 days to go. Aaron and I have talked circles about working out, eating well, what is hard for me, what is easy for me, blah blah blah. What I think I find myself struggling with the very most, of all things dealing with working on becoming more of the person I want to be is feeling that I deserve to be that person.

As a mom, we all know those days where it feels like you just want to take the easier route to pop on a show from Netflix, have some peace and quiet while sipping a hot (emphasis on hot mind you) cup of coffee and thinking for the next 20-30 minutes and maybe even zoning out. There's really nothing wrong with this and I have no intention of judging others who do this every day of their lives because heck, we do what we think is best at the moment and with the circumstances we are dealt. For me though, I felt my heart tugging and telling me that this wasn't the kind of parent I wanted to be and that Amity's behavior issues as of late were likely directly caused because she was fending for herself watching shows often while mom did her own thing (initially so I could figure out life with a new baby but that's not really an excuse I can use anymore). So - I nixed that. In fact, the girl has had zero time watching anything (except a movie at Grandma & Grandpa's a few weekends ago (which in my mind is different), and she has been a total peach and joy to be around. I'm way more fun to be around too. So -- the question is, why was I running from living in a way that would make me more happy, make her more happy, make everyone more happy?

I tested that theory... to see if my kid would actually be super effected by screen time and watched James and the Giant Peach with her one morning during Ever's nap (also during the week I was a solo parent while Aaron was on a work trip in California recently). All seemed well, until it just didn't. It wasn't the moment after the movie ended, but the tantrums and constant arguing and asking for more screentime began within 10 minutes and led to multiple meltdowns and angry tears.

It wasn't worth it. The theory was in fact correct and for now, the kid can't handle any tv, shows, movies, etc. unless we are willing to handle a battle and forfeit the happiness in the home.

Subject change but connected...

My relationship with food is complicated. I see the goal I want to hit, whether it's those jeans I long to fit in again, or the way I want to feel in my swim suit this summer, or a number on the scale, and sometimes... too many times over the years... I will see progress and get closer to that goal and then I'll sabotage it. It's almost an unconscious decision. Lately I'm more aware either right before I do it, or while I'm doing it, but for years this really negative voice would start screaming in my head all of the reasons I really didn't deserve to make that goal actually come true or why I wasn't enough. The easier road in weight loss is to stay where we are right? Change is scary! There's an unknown about how I'll feel about myself if I lose weight, if I look different, if I even feel different -- even IF that's going to be a BETTER different.

Last weekend I drove my husband to the airport. It's his first business trip since we had Ever. I missed him like mad and like I said, most days (the days I didn't test the movie theory), we made it, and happy to report, had a wonderful time just mommy, Ami, and Ever. Everest is growing leaps and bounds. He hit 7 months old, can say "Momma" and "Bubba" (bottle), and is working on "Hi" and "Dada". The cuteness is overwhelming. I intentionally unplugged and was just there for my kids, taking time for myself when I worked out during Ever's nap with Ami and then not again until they were both in bed.

However, by the 5th day of flying solo, the food struggle became real. It was so hard not to feel entitled to eat what I wanted because I had endured being a single parent for almost a week. Surely, eating french fries and a giant strawberry lemonade was owed to me and no one could blame me for indulging after 15+ hour days with two little people and usually a midnight feeding in there too.

This is the pickle I find myself in. Using food as a "reward" for a difficult situation sets me back from all my hard work. But it is so tough to see that in the moment and to think through why I'm reacting emotionally and seeing food as the answer. I don't really want to nonverbally communicate that to Amity but I know I am.

The solution? I don't really have one. Writing helps though. It makes me conscious. It makes me examine my life, my goals, my behavior. That's a step in a positive direction I know.