I have been working very hard at trying to eat right and lose weight and in the past month I have been fairly successful. When I started working on this roughly 6 weeks ago, I decided that I would take the time and spend the money to see exactly where my starting point was. This meant taking a test that would tell me what my resting heart rate was as well as what my heart rate zones were. I was also weighed and my fat percentage was calculated using the skin caliper (think back to high school when you were pinched in a couple of places and your body fat was calculated).
So, 6 weeks ago I had a pretty good idea where I was as far as fitness went and it wasn't great - it wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. This week I did a weigh in and another body composition test and although I still have a long way to go, my weight and my body fat percentage was down. A 5% reduction in body fat and the weightloss was nothing to sneeze at and I would consider it a good start. Actually, at the time I was damn proud of myself.
I still am proud of myself but I don't want to rest until I'm actually where I need to be - I say need because where I need to be and where I would like to be are 2 separate things. When you're someone who has a history of eating disorders where you want to be is always less than where you should be. I'm getting there slowly, and I'm hoping surely.
Yesterday I came home from my
When I was a little girl, my Lola (grandmother) sewed wonderful things for us. I have fond memories of coming home from kindergarten and she would have a new pair of pajamas or a dress that she threw together in an hour or so. Then, there were the times that she would knit something for us like scarves or hats. Truly a remarkable thing since she had arthritis but even more remarkable that she would be able to clean a house, cook lunch for my Lolo (grandfather) and dinner for a family of 7, AND have time to sew a complete outfit or knit a scarf.
I remember before David and I had the boys and there were times when I felt so tired that I wondered how in the world I could ever keep my eyes open. But then we had the boys and tired had new meaning. Actually, during the first trimester of my first pregnancy I wasn't just tired - I was TIRED; so tired that often times I couldn't stay awake past 7:00 pm. There were times that I wondered how it was I was going to drive home from work (I left at 4:30 pm) because I was so tired.
As I child I loved watching
In the past couple of months I have been trying very hard to get healthier by eating right and exercising. To some extent I have been successful, but not as successful as I'd like to be I'm not sure what it is that is holding me back; it seems as though I lose some weight and then I sabotage myself by eating everything and anything that I shouldn't be eating. It almost seems as thought I don't think I deserve to be healthy and happy.
Around 7:00 last night, I looked around and noticed that my house was a shambles. We've stalled on the unpacking and fixing up the house and rightfully so. It's summer (or spring) and after a month or so of painting and unpacking I have lost all motivation. Add to that the fact that I work a 40 plus hour a week job and want to spend weekends with my boys and you have sheer exhaustion.
This time last year, we were in the midst of purchasing a house and we had a contract on one. However, there was a contingency on the sale of our place and we were
The boys are getting so big and with this comes the expectation that they will do things that bigger kids do like listen or come when you call them. I know that I was not the most obedient child, but I didn't blatantly ignore my parents when they were talking to me or disregard what they were asking me to do. I may have grumbled, but I actually did what they asked and came when they called.
I did nothing this weekend - I've had the same cold for what feels like forever. I didn't do the "usual" like washing work clothes for the week or go grocery shopping. I pretty much sat around in my pajamas and didn't shower. Yes, I made breakfast and lunch during Mother's Day and we started painting the boys room, but other than that I was a sloth.
This year Mother's Day takes on different meaning for me because this is the first time that I will not be spending it with my mom. I have a precarious relationship with my mother; she's overbearing a lot of the time but I know that her heart is in the right place. Since my parents moved out of state recently, it will be another year of adjustments for me (what else is new - the good times never seem to end). Only my sister and I are the ones that remain in the same state for the first time since my brother joined the Marines and went to basic training eons ago.
There was a time when I went to yoga class religiously. Well, at least 5 times a week anyway. In the beginning of class the teacher would talk us through a sitting pose where we would breathe and prepare for the class. One of the things she would tell us was to clear our heads; I believe the exact quote was, "Clear your head of any thoughts from the day. Don't let anyone or anything rent space in your head."
I have been so busy with work and the family and fighting off a cold. What I originally thought were allergies are turning out to be more than just the run of the mill allergies. The terrible thing about being sick is that my patience runs very, VERY short. Let's just say that my fuse is non-existent. Not only am I short with the boys but I tend to get a bit grouchy at work and being grouchy isn't a good thing when you're dealing with people who are impossible. 

