My Battle

Someone, somewhere brainwashed most mothers into thinking that to be a great mom and a good wife you had to put others before yourself.  It's been a long road, but I've come to realize that is a total crock of shit.  I mean, it might be true if you don't have enough food and then, well - yes...you should feed your children before you eat [same with clothes and shelter, etc. etc.]; but this should NEVER be true when it comes to your health and mental well being.

See, I've spent countless years seeing to everyone else's activities and plans and daily happenings that I completely neglected my own.  I wound up feeling beaten and broken and tired.  How the hell was I taking care of anyone in that state?!?  Frankly, I'm not sure how I did for quite some time.

And one day recently, I pulled some clothes out of my closet that used to fit.  Before kids.  Before marriage.  Before I put others before seeing that my own basic needs were met.  I made a decision right then and there - Enough!  I hung them up where I can see them, and I've told myself it's not about my weight or being skinny; it's about being good to myself and ensuring I'm healthy enough to be around for those I need to take care of for a long time to come.

That afternoon, I dusted off my long-forgotten treadmill.  Reinstalled my Couch-2-5K app and asked my oldest to accompany me on my journey to being healthier (I can already see her down the road becoming me with her bookish ways and Mom-in-training attitude).  She agreed and now, not only do I run for me, but I run for her too.

I'm slow.  I'm chubby.  I'm not fit.  But every day, I strap on my kicks and go out and tear it up because it's what I have to do.  For me.  For my body.  For my peace of mind.  And little by little I get faster.  I get stronger.  I get back to being the girl who made sure her own needs were met.

I'm getting there, but it's a struggle.  It's a battle.  Every day.  To put my book down.  To stop watching over every movement of my children.  To leave the dishes on the counter.  Some days, I'm better at it than others; regardless I keep trying.

And I think THIS is what makes me a better mother and wife.  Meeting MY needs.  Taking care of MYSELF.  I feel better.  I'm not so tired.  I don't feel broken [a little battered, yes...but broken, no].  My children are seeing that I'm not giving up on myself.

And with every foot fall I've gotten this little mantra [used to be I'd swear repeatedly in my head while running], and I've come to embrace it as my own:

I'm slow, I'm chubby, I'm not fit...but not for much longer!

Today, covered in sweat, I'm proud.  Today, I battled back and it felt good.  Today, I succeeded in taking back me.

It Was Cited In My Arrest Paperwork...

In a bold move [IMHO], Weight Watchers tapped Oprah to be their new spokesperson.  Outside of her gobs and gobs of money, I totally feel her.  I, too, have struggled with weight my whole life.  I, too, have been a yo-yo of incessant trial and error.  And most importantly, I, too, fucking LOVE bread.

There, I said it.  I.  Fucking.  Love.  Bread.

And I've tried every diet known to man.  Grapefruit diet.  Yup. The whole 'Eat Less & Run More' diet thing.  And the Atkins.  And that's when I realized something - when you tell me I can't have something, I become like a rabid dog.  I would kill for it.  I've transformed into an aggressive and mean person...ok, I became even more aggressive and mean.  Purely because I couldn't have bread.  Like, I'm going to be arrested and there written in the arrest write up [or whatever it's called] will be clear as day:

"It had been 10 days since she had bread when she went on her rampant killing spree that left 15 dead, with countless maimed and crippled for life..."

Bread.

It's such a simple thing really - some flour, some water, some yeast.  But it is SO much more.  the crispy outside texture.  The soft and fluffy inside texture.  The magic of its versatility: it's a sandwich, Noooo - it's toast.  Noooo - it's garlic bread.  MAGICAL, I SAY!

So, every time Oprah comes on my TV, I feel like standing up and cheering, "YAAAAAS!  OMG!  I love bread too, Oprah!"

Then the commercial ends.  And I am sad - 1. Because I don't have a sandwich right now and 2. Because my love of bread HAS to be what hinders me from losing this extra three bazillion pounds I need to shed.  But mostly because 1. I don't have a sandwich.

[sigh]

Thanks, Oprah.  I, too, LOVE bread...