I haven’t been to the gym this week. It was part of my weekly routine and it helped me stay on track. I was so bummed about it that I let myself slip and have a few comfort foods this week. Hubs brought home Chick Fil A cookies one evening because I’d had such a day, and if you’ve never experienced those warm oatmeal chocolate chip cookies you are sorely missing out. There was also a Kit Kat bar, and I allowed myself to have white bread for a lunch sandwich one day.
It isn’t weigh-in day, but I checked to see just how far I’d gone off course this morning and I had gained 5 pounds. Five. Cinco. 50% of all the progress I’d made so far in the past few months have been erased in less than a week.
So what am I taking from this? First of all, it is still really easy to slip back into old habits, especially when your kids daily life gets in the weeds. The first stumbling block and I fell off the wagon entirely. Can’t go to the gym? Well hell, let me pound some queso. Kids needing constant, one-on-one coaching and guidance to get through attitude malfunctions and 4 out of 5 days it doesn’t show results? Here comes a bologna sandwich and a bag of Cheetohs!
I’m trying not to be bitter, and I’m trying not to hold a grudge against Bubs for precipitating this fall. He can’t help it I assumed his preschooler brain could handle the stimulation of an hour of video games three times a week. I’m trying not to be bitter that he’s somehow forgotten all his social skills and I have to take him home early from play dates with his friends because he couldn’t handle the interactions, which means I didn’t get a few precious moments to socialize with mom friends without him being completely up my ass. I’m trying to find my serenity now when I’m on the phone with a friend trying to have an adult interaction and that is exactly when my kids need me for literally every need and want they can dream up, or they are in the middle of a sibling fight and one of them is trying to rock a glider chair through the wall upstairs.
I can just take deep breaths and remember that the gym, my work clients, the house, all of it will still be here in September when he’s off to preschool for 16 hours a week and she’s in school for 35-40 hours a week. I can plan for the future to avoid pitfalls like this week:
- Ask Hubs not to enable my coping mechanisms by not bringing me sweet treats when he knows the day has been rough.
- Get a solid Plan B for if when I can’t make it to the gym.
- Build and maintain healthy distance from my kids so I don’t get sucked into their insane vortices of raw emotion.
- Realize that this has to be a legitimate life change because if I think it is temporary and I’m going to somehow revisit old habits once the weight is gone I’m going to watch myself balloon back to obesity in a matter of weeks.
Takes a Village
One thing Hubs and I realized this week is we really don’t have the social network that allows us to take good breaks from our kids. Most of our parent friends have at least 2-3 solid leads on babysitters in the area that they can call on to watch their kids for a date night, or for a doctor’s visit, or to get their herrr did. We have family nearby, and we lean on them as it is. But if it is during the day, or before 6 p.m., we’re really struggling.
Let’s just add that to the list.