As a mother of four boys, I know the struggle of trying to find time for you. It has taken me almost 13 years to finally figure out that not only am I worth the time and effort, I owe it to myself and my family to do what I can to be the best me that I can be.
Now let’s be clear, that “me” doesn’t revolve around a size or a weight, it revolves around a feeling. Feeling good inside and out, feeling worthy and feeling like I’m not only living, but I’m actually present in my life. As we all know, life’s too short to let it pass you by.
It started with talking to my doctor about things I can do to improve my health, including talking to a nutritionist. It involved having a very real and frank conversation with me, writing down things I like about myself and things I don’t. Once I had it down on paper, I crossed off the things I can’t change – like the fact that my pinky toes are pointed.
And then I started planning what I could do regarding the things I could change.
I have to admit, I’m a list-maker. I feel a sense of accomplishment knowing I could cross things off my list. For example, I hated that I would bite my nails. My solution included getting acrylics. You can’t bite them. And once on for a month or two, I figured I could get them removed and my habit should be pretty well broken. At least that’s my hope. I’ll keep you posted.
Weight was, of course, at the top of the list. Having children is not necessarily kind on your body. Having four children in seven or so years is challenging for any type of stability in diet, exercise, etc. I also had the wonderful world of cesarean and a slug of complications that I won’t get into. And then our youngest son was born and my world kind of went into a tailspin.
To make a long story short, I spent the next 2-3 years in various hospitals, clinics, waiting rooms, ERs, ambulances, etc. Stress, lack of routine, you name it; it could work as an excuse for me. But that’s all it would be…an excuse.
I’m not even sure I would recognize myself in this picture.
Truthfully, I was so worried about him, that the rest of my life sort of came to a halt. I focused on every day, getting by, surviving, and getting through it however I had to. Yes, I had family and support, including my husband, but as a mother, I felt guilt and a sense of responsibility.
Now, here we are, my son is now 6 and defying the odds. He’s an amazing child with amazing potential – and it’s about time I got back to me.
And so my list for that particular goal is still developing. I’m not quite to where I want to be, but I’m better than what I was. Isn’t that how it goes?
Not to the end of my journey, but enjoying the travels so far.
And so, here I am, gleaning information, getting support and trying out new things to see what works for me, and what doesn’t. And through it all, I’m getting to know myself again as well.
I am so glad you’re all here with me.
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