When I lost weight in my early twenties it started out as something to do for my boyfriend then I finished in spite of the ex-boyfriend. I lost a bit prior to out wedding for obvious reasons. The last two times I lost weight was ironically when I was pregnant with the kids. I ate MUCH MUCH healthier - why? Because of the babies - my sweet innocent babies who had no control over anything. Add in that I had gestational diabetes and needed to really watch what I ate. And I did - pretty religiously. It wasn't about ME being healthy - it was about me controlling what I ate so THEY would be healthy. And they were. Thank you God.
I have thought maybe now I could convince myself to get my act together and it still be about the kids. About being there for my children - be able to be the amazing mother, the roll on the floor and wrestle, the go for hikes, the go swimming, the bike ride loving, the mother they deserve. Not this pile of nothing mother they have. (Granted I do know I'm a good mom and they know they are loved.)
So now here I sit - yesterday I received my third reminder to get my fasting blood sugar tested so I can make sure I don't still have diabetes. I'm too scared, but I need to do it. I don't want that label - the label my mom has (type 2.) Maybe doing this test is my first step to realizing that I need to do this for ME. Maybe not. I don't know if it will until I take the test though, obviously.
Maybe tomorrow... maybe... next week maybe...
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
If at first, second, third, forth, fifth, sixth, seventh you don't succeed, try try again...
What is the saying? If you fall off the horse it is best to get right back on? Or something like to that effect? Yeah... about that...
In 2002 I was dating this beautiful man, Jason. (Turned out to be insane - quite literally, but that is a story for another time.) I mean seriously - he was beautiful. He was in the Air Force and was all muscles and abs and perfectness. And he wanted me. He pursued me. He repeatedly asked me out and I repeatedly said no because really - he was gorgeous and I was a chubster who thought he was playing a joke on me. Turns out he wasn't and we did fall in love and did talk of what would be our glorious future and shopped for "the" ring. The day I turned 21, May 15th, was the same day he was leaving for 6 weeks in Texas for some military training stuff. I decided that day I was going to march my 198 pound butt to Weight Watchers and surprise him when he returned. I lost 16 pounds while he was gone and was feeling pretty hot when he got back. He was so proud of me and after returning was nothing but the most supportive boyfriend a girl could dream of. He would cook me meals and could rattle off the points for everything - it was kind of awesome. When our relationship imploded after 14 months I was about 170ish pounds.
Stubborn as all get out I was not going to let what happened with him stop me from reaching my goal weight of 142 pounds.
I was about 155 when I found my rebound guy - Mr. Wrong... Mr. Totally Obnoxious... Mr. Really not THAT attractive... naturally I fell in "love." I remember showing him a picture of me at 198 pounds and asked him if he would have dated me then. He quickly said no. That should have been my first clue. While dating Captain Nasty I got down to my goal weight of 142 pounds. Fell in to a deep depression, guided by him. Graduated from College. Moved home. Thought about killing myself to the point of sitting with some pills. Started getting HELP in that department. Lost down to 131 pounds. Found my first job. Then quickly dumped Captain Asshat.
Being as that I wasn't good at being alone I quickly started dating a guy from work. He was young, funny, spontaneous, flirty, pretty cute and really liked me. Great combo, no? He was also skinnier than skinny. Seriously - it was downright obnoxious. (6'1" and 145 pounds - he had to TRY to gain weight. Ass.) We dated for a little over a year and during that time my weight yo-yoed between 135 and 150 pounds. I also realized something dating him... I need to stop living the relationship worrying about what I could do for them and start focusing on what a man could do for me.
Que would-be HUSBAND! He is wonderful and supportive and has loved me at the 138 pounds I was when we started dating and at the 250 or so pounds I was when we got pregnant with each of our kids. And now he loves me at the 231 pounds I am since having our daughter. God Love Him, right? I tell him so often - thank you for loving me and all my jiggles... he of course scoffs at me and tells me how beautiful I am. I was 170 pounds when I walked down the aisle and since 2006 have steadily put on more and more and more and more weight. Weight I vowed would never come again when I was my sexy 131-pound self. Yup - that didn't set me up for failure or anything. Also since 2006 I have restarted Weight Watchers (I'm a lifetime member) no less than 6 times. Maybe more. Each time I am all motivated and I lose 10 pounds and I quit.
So now I sit here... part of me wants to rejoin the world of points... I KNOW it works... I've done it. But the other - larger - fat girl - junk food loving - fast food salavating part of me just keep saying - you will fail. You always fail. Why waste the money when - seriously - you are going to fail. The question really comes down to... why? The answer escapes me now, but I have to find the answer if I ever hope to overcome the insecurities of it all.
I have to do better. And I will.
In 2002 I was dating this beautiful man, Jason. (Turned out to be insane - quite literally, but that is a story for another time.) I mean seriously - he was beautiful. He was in the Air Force and was all muscles and abs and perfectness. And he wanted me. He pursued me. He repeatedly asked me out and I repeatedly said no because really - he was gorgeous and I was a chubster who thought he was playing a joke on me. Turns out he wasn't and we did fall in love and did talk of what would be our glorious future and shopped for "the" ring. The day I turned 21, May 15th, was the same day he was leaving for 6 weeks in Texas for some military training stuff. I decided that day I was going to march my 198 pound butt to Weight Watchers and surprise him when he returned. I lost 16 pounds while he was gone and was feeling pretty hot when he got back. He was so proud of me and after returning was nothing but the most supportive boyfriend a girl could dream of. He would cook me meals and could rattle off the points for everything - it was kind of awesome. When our relationship imploded after 14 months I was about 170ish pounds.
Stubborn as all get out I was not going to let what happened with him stop me from reaching my goal weight of 142 pounds.
I was about 155 when I found my rebound guy - Mr. Wrong... Mr. Totally Obnoxious... Mr. Really not THAT attractive... naturally I fell in "love." I remember showing him a picture of me at 198 pounds and asked him if he would have dated me then. He quickly said no. That should have been my first clue. While dating Captain Nasty I got down to my goal weight of 142 pounds. Fell in to a deep depression, guided by him. Graduated from College. Moved home. Thought about killing myself to the point of sitting with some pills. Started getting HELP in that department. Lost down to 131 pounds. Found my first job. Then quickly dumped Captain Asshat.
Being as that I wasn't good at being alone I quickly started dating a guy from work. He was young, funny, spontaneous, flirty, pretty cute and really liked me. Great combo, no? He was also skinnier than skinny. Seriously - it was downright obnoxious. (6'1" and 145 pounds - he had to TRY to gain weight. Ass.) We dated for a little over a year and during that time my weight yo-yoed between 135 and 150 pounds. I also realized something dating him... I need to stop living the relationship worrying about what I could do for them and start focusing on what a man could do for me.
Que would-be HUSBAND! He is wonderful and supportive and has loved me at the 138 pounds I was when we started dating and at the 250 or so pounds I was when we got pregnant with each of our kids. And now he loves me at the 231 pounds I am since having our daughter. God Love Him, right? I tell him so often - thank you for loving me and all my jiggles... he of course scoffs at me and tells me how beautiful I am. I was 170 pounds when I walked down the aisle and since 2006 have steadily put on more and more and more and more weight. Weight I vowed would never come again when I was my sexy 131-pound self. Yup - that didn't set me up for failure or anything. Also since 2006 I have restarted Weight Watchers (I'm a lifetime member) no less than 6 times. Maybe more. Each time I am all motivated and I lose 10 pounds and I quit.
So now I sit here... part of me wants to rejoin the world of points... I KNOW it works... I've done it. But the other - larger - fat girl - junk food loving - fast food salavating part of me just keep saying - you will fail. You always fail. Why waste the money when - seriously - you are going to fail. The question really comes down to... why? The answer escapes me now, but I have to find the answer if I ever hope to overcome the insecurities of it all.
I have to do better. And I will.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Capable
I am quite capable... I know I am.
The knowledge often is fleeting, but lately... the past few weeks... it has started to come to my surface. I had a therapy appointment today and she and I spoke as to why that is. The answer may be complicated, but two reasons that come to mind are:
1. I'm much more confident in my skills as a mother this time around. Our daughter is 3 months old and while she has been a bit of a colic-y handful it has been so much smoother. With our son I constantly struggled with "am I doing this right?" and a multitude of other worries... is he eating enough? eating too little? sleeping enough? sleeping too much? Am I a good mother? Does he know he is loved? etc etc etc etc etc It was a seriously difficult transition. Granted this time around I've more experience, but it certainly helps when my frame of mind is so much better.
2. The second and more silly reason is doing some DIY stuff. I've always been creative and crafty, but I've really been embracing that of late and it really does give me a sense of pride in myself. I made about 70+% of the gifts we gave this year at Christmas and knowing that I was giving someone something thoughtful, creative, personal and knowing I saved our family some money was a wonderful feeling.
I want to keep this mo-jo of capability going as it feels so good and I pray it can carry over into other aspects of my life where it is so desparately needed.
The knowledge often is fleeting, but lately... the past few weeks... it has started to come to my surface. I had a therapy appointment today and she and I spoke as to why that is. The answer may be complicated, but two reasons that come to mind are:
1. I'm much more confident in my skills as a mother this time around. Our daughter is 3 months old and while she has been a bit of a colic-y handful it has been so much smoother. With our son I constantly struggled with "am I doing this right?" and a multitude of other worries... is he eating enough? eating too little? sleeping enough? sleeping too much? Am I a good mother? Does he know he is loved? etc etc etc etc etc It was a seriously difficult transition. Granted this time around I've more experience, but it certainly helps when my frame of mind is so much better.
2. The second and more silly reason is doing some DIY stuff. I've always been creative and crafty, but I've really been embracing that of late and it really does give me a sense of pride in myself. I made about 70+% of the gifts we gave this year at Christmas and knowing that I was giving someone something thoughtful, creative, personal and knowing I saved our family some money was a wonderful feeling.
I want to keep this mo-jo of capability going as it feels so good and I pray it can carry over into other aspects of my life where it is so desparately needed.
Living our Life Better
"Better"
A simple word, right? A simple word that has been resonating deep within me lately and now is reaching the boiling point where it wants to burst out of my chest. I'm 30 years old. The first 30 years have been filled with joy and heartache, soaring highs and very low lows. The desire for perfection and the constant reality that I've fallen short time and time again. Or did I?
Maybe the truth is I need a more healthy perspective. So often I live my life "all or nothing" ... "black or white" ... "good or bad." Not being happy to find that middle, the "some" or "grey" or "okay."
I am (was) either the best girlfriend a boy could ask for or I a sucky single girl.
I am either as thin as I can manage or the fat girl with no hope to reach a goal weight.
I am either the best mother to my children or I'm the mother who leaves much to be desired outside her overwhelming love for her children.
I am either the wife my husband deserves/needs/wants or I'm a selfish bitch who takes without giving.
And so on and so forth...
For so long I have lived my life to please others... in little ways and in big ways so often. Trying to fill the void in other people's lives that have been left by people in their life. Never really realizing the huge void in my own that desperately needed to be filled.
The times I did get a glimmer of the void I tried filling it with... sadly I never filled it with the good stuff. Rather I lost myself in food or boys or a new hobby. Never really getting down to the nitty gritty details. Never really looking for the cause.
Even now - my (our) life revolves around our children. Is that wrong? Not necessarily, but there needs to be a little revolving around myself and around my marriage. Thankfully my husband agrees. Our children are the biggest blessings we can imagine, but that doesn't mean we forget about the "ME" and "US" that started the road to children. Sounds selfish, right? I think so too. But a better Lindsey and a better Nathan will do nothing but great things for our kids.
With all that said - and probably more to be rehashed and scrutinized and thought through I start down this road. Thankful to be walking down it both by myself and with my husband. The road, you ask? Oh that would be the road to living our lives better. What does that mean? Many things we already know and even more we don't. It does not mean perfection and I need to remember that. It means living daily in ways to better our lives.
So here we go............ wish me luck!
A simple word, right? A simple word that has been resonating deep within me lately and now is reaching the boiling point where it wants to burst out of my chest. I'm 30 years old. The first 30 years have been filled with joy and heartache, soaring highs and very low lows. The desire for perfection and the constant reality that I've fallen short time and time again. Or did I?
Maybe the truth is I need a more healthy perspective. So often I live my life "all or nothing" ... "black or white" ... "good or bad." Not being happy to find that middle, the "some" or "grey" or "okay."
I am (was) either the best girlfriend a boy could ask for or I a sucky single girl.
I am either as thin as I can manage or the fat girl with no hope to reach a goal weight.
I am either the best mother to my children or I'm the mother who leaves much to be desired outside her overwhelming love for her children.
I am either the wife my husband deserves/needs/wants or I'm a selfish bitch who takes without giving.
And so on and so forth...
For so long I have lived my life to please others... in little ways and in big ways so often. Trying to fill the void in other people's lives that have been left by people in their life. Never really realizing the huge void in my own that desperately needed to be filled.
The times I did get a glimmer of the void I tried filling it with... sadly I never filled it with the good stuff. Rather I lost myself in food or boys or a new hobby. Never really getting down to the nitty gritty details. Never really looking for the cause.
Even now - my (our) life revolves around our children. Is that wrong? Not necessarily, but there needs to be a little revolving around myself and around my marriage. Thankfully my husband agrees. Our children are the biggest blessings we can imagine, but that doesn't mean we forget about the "ME" and "US" that started the road to children. Sounds selfish, right? I think so too. But a better Lindsey and a better Nathan will do nothing but great things for our kids.
With all that said - and probably more to be rehashed and scrutinized and thought through I start down this road. Thankful to be walking down it both by myself and with my husband. The road, you ask? Oh that would be the road to living our lives better. What does that mean? Many things we already know and even more we don't. It does not mean perfection and I need to remember that. It means living daily in ways to better our lives.
So here we go............ wish me luck!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)