So I know I haven't blogged much lately. I've been in a Biggest Loser program. That's kind of a lame excuse, but there it is. I'm not saying that "I'm on a diet" because I am trying to look at it as a lifestyle change. I am Eating Clean, which means foods with few ingredients or even better in the state that God made them. I look at ingredients lists. I eat lots of salads. I cut lots and lots of vegetables and fruits (which I absolutely love to do and want somebody to pay me to do it). I drink water only and herbal tea, and coffee maybe once or twice a week. Since starting, I have lost 5 lbs. That's maybe 10% of the amount I want to lose, because I know I will feel like a rockstar when I am in the "Under 200" club again. But I'm proud of it.
But better yet, I feel better. My muscles are saying thank you for using their potential. I feel thirsty for water again, and better when I drink it (quite an accomplishment for me). I make breakfast burritos with green eggs (half egg whites, half whole eggs and spinach pureed in the blender), black beans and salsa. Yum. I eat that with fruit. I eat raw carrots and a mushed avocado with garlic salt for lunch with my leftover soup or veggie burger. Yum. And I have been rocking the healthy dinners, sometimes popping in a frozen pizza for Dear Old Dad so he isn't "tortured" by this all too while I eat salad. Whoa. There is no white sugar or cocoa powder in my house. Its just better that way.
And the best thing? I haven't taken the blue happy pill (my antidepressant) for at least 2 weeks. I'm off of it. In the past, when I miss some doses, I am an emotional crying mess that picks fights with Dear Old Dad and quickly loses patience with babies, traffic and glasses that fall off my face. No more. I am by no means perfect, but that cloud of messy angry self-hating feelings is gone. Hopefully forever.
And this blog post really struck a chord in me. It is slightly related. I keep thinking of 2 specific photos of me taken in July 2011, which was 3 months after Firstborn showed up. One was a professional family photo of the three of us. Dear Old Dad is his handsome dashing self, Firstborn is tiny, grinning and adorable, and all I can see of myself is stupid bangs from humid weather and a double chin. The other one was taken by my Favorite Aunt Deb when I took Firstborn to see my grandparents. There is a pic taken of me from the side holding Firstborn next to my Grandpa. I am wearing a hot pink unflattering shirt and am the size of an elephant. But I was holding a 12-lb long skinny baby and sitting next to my Grandfather who is 110 pounds soaking wet and taller than me. That photo actually motivated me to join Weight Watchers and cut up that pink shirt. I did ok on Weight Watchers until I got pregnant with The Sgt. And then I stopped caring about what I ate or using my muscles. I remember laughing (and probably blogging) about the Babycenter email I got saying "why you may still look pregnant". Oh the irony. That pregnancy was a nightmare, mostly because I didn't care about myself enough to unfriend Ben & Jerry or Sonic.
I am coaching myself now that we will get some good professional photos made of our family (the 4 of us) and all combinations of parents and kids in May. At that point, Firstborn will be 2, The Sgt will be 1, Dear Old Dad will be 35 and I will be six-squared. I will be lighter and toned, but probably not in the 190s Club. And that's ok. I want my boys to have lots of good pictures of their handsome cuteness with their Handsome Dad and their Mom in the state she is in.
So I'm kind of writing this for and to myself to chill out. Put down the peanut butter. Yes its clean, but we're trying something else now. Break free of the upbringing you had of constant eating (and try not to stress about losing anybody too early because that constant eater is still ... yeah). No negative self-talk. In your late 20s you were rocking the warrior poses in yoga and was so flexible you could palm the floor standing up before stretching. You survived an sacrificial emotional career change. You ran a half marathon at age 32. You had 2 babies in 2 years in your mid-thirties. How many people can say that?
Someday you will be a yoga rockstar again. You will likely do a lady triathlon. You will do real push-ups. You will stop obsessing over calorie content on the Evil MyFitnessPal. And beyond that you will get a master's degree and teach college courses. You will work towards that long-term goal of homeschooling the boys when they are around 10 and travelling all over the country. Beyond that, maybe you will be a foster parent. You will read more books. You will someday sleep through the night again.
And you will be in lots of photographs.