To say that this year has been awful would be an understatement.
Let me rephrase. To say that this school year has been awful would be an understatement. I have to remind myself that there is more to my life than my job. Like, my sweet 16-month-old boy who started answering questions last night. I sang him a song and said, "Did you like that song?" He smiled at me and said, "Yeah!" Then again when he gave me a book and I asked him if he wanted me to read it to him, he smiled and said, "Yeah!" and hopped in my lap. We'll work on manners later. For now, "yeah" is perfectly fine.
And then there's my 3 1/2 year old comedienne who spouts hilarity faster than I can post. She brings me so much joy with her antics everyday.
And I cannot discount my husband, who works so hard in his job, whether it's coaching basketball or baseball or teaching history, he just knows what he's doing and has so much fun doing it. I get jealous of that sometimes... the fun he has. But I am blessed because he's involved in our kids' lives, he loves them and me more than I ever thought I deserved. Most nights I fall asleep in my chair in the living room watching sports with him next to me or in Brooklyn's room while I "sleep for five minutes" (her nightly request as we listen to the Frozen soundtrack to go to bed). So near nightly he shakes me and tells me to go ahead and get in bed. I walk into the bedroom to find a nice turned down bed, an extra blanket if I'm cold, my phone where it needs to be to wake me up the next day, and the ipad set up against a book or pillow on the floor so I can watch TV while I go to sleep. He knows and loves me so well.
However, this year has been tough. Grievances, tears, fights, struggles, doctor's appointments, counseling sessions, medication... I've been worn thin so much that I question whether or not I want to be a teacher. And as a result of all this, I've given in to stress eating like whoa. The last time I posted anything about weight loss was November 9th, 2013, and I had lost weight, getting down to 142.6 pounds. I stopped nursing Peyton, which definitely attributed to the gain, but I've gotten out of control since then too, and haven't cared about anything. I've gotten seriously depressed and let it get to me in every aspect of life.
I put on a pair of pants the other day and hated the way I felt in them, hated the way I looked in them. I have not even dared to step on a scale since I've found an affinity for things like Sonic's hot fudge sundae (YUM) on bad (read: most) days. Well, I did today. 156.8. That's a weight gain of 14.2 pounds in 6 months. It's pathetic and sad and I'm ashamed.
The good news is, like one of my favorite quotes from the film Vanilla Sky, "every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around". And that sounds even better when Penelope Cruz is the one saying it. Actually, it's in a Spanish accent every time I hear it in my head.
So, back to living a healthy lifestyle, because I was definitely out of it. Back to charting my weight and eating right. And sadly... back to exercising. Yuck. But I'll do it. A mile everyday, and this:
It's gonna suck. Actually, now that I look towards days like day 18, it's more likely that it's impossible. Oh well. I'll try.