I started the day off with defeat. It has been a culmination of lack of sleep, illness, isolation from friends and fellowship, etc., etc. I realized, after writing an e-mail to a friend, that I've not been to church in a month (because of illness and other things). I've not been to Bible study, MOPS only met once last month, I've not been able to enjoy my basement peeps and in general I've been a homebody.
That's enough to make anyone buckle.
I am happy to report that although I wanted to gorge myself on the remaining birthday cake or buy a Diet Coke (thanks to the stomach flu, I've been free from Diet Coke for 3 days). I wanted to sit on the couch, play my farm game (why is it always a farm game), veg out, zone out and give up.
Thankfully, the encouraging words, texts, emails and Facebook posts served as a cushion for me to fall on. I didn't fall on my butt, I didn't fail. The words lifted my spirits just enough to make it possible for me to do opposite of what I wanted.
I spent half an hour doing Dance Party on the Wii this morning. I am much less of a graceful dancer than I thought I was. I will admit that I look pretty ridiculous, but I didn't let lack of coordination stop me. I did my best and hacked and wheezed through half an hour.
Bekah had dance class today. Mondays are tricky because of this. I usually get her home from dance class, get Doug down for a nap, put a movie in and doze on the couch. Today, the driveway needed shovelling. So I gathered all of my reserves, bundled up my two older children and shoveled the entire thing. (Now, truth be told, I did doze a bit after that was done--my eyes simply wouldn't stay open.)
I am looking expectantly at tomorrow; the organizer I hired is coming over for the first time. We are going to start the arduous process of making the house not sterile and antiseptic but managable and welcoming. I am optimistic that, over the next few months, I will be able to work with her to come to enjoy being in the house.
So there you go. Just another day on the rollercoaster of life. Now I intend to spend some time in the Lazy River. Peace and tidings!
Monday, February 4, 2013
Monday Frustration
It was a crazy week last week at Chez Patronik-Carbajal. Lots of stomach flu, lots of bronchitis (for me only), lots of forced resting. Today was the first day we were back to our "normal" routine; Jeremy at preschool and then dance later for Bekah. It's a crazy way to start the week, really.
I am feeling my normal weigh-in frustration blues. I was hopeful that the stomach flu would help me lose some weight. I did lose 0.8 lbs, but I am beginning to grow weary of the pace of my weight loss.
I started going back to Weight Watchers in late November; over the past 2 1/2 months, I've lost 2.5 pounds. That's it. Really, 2.4, but I'm rounding up. I feel really defeated, beaten down and discouraged.
I am overweight by 140 pounds. That's like an entire other person. I would have thought that losing weight at being that overweight would be easier, not harder. I have watched shows like Extreme Makeover: Body Edition and I hear what those people eat and think; my Lord, I don't eat that at all!! There was a girl who ate like 10 pounds of crawfish at one sitting. 10 pounds!! In my wildest dreams I couldn't consume that much at one meal. I don't eat fast food every day, I'm not hanging out underneath the donut dispenser at the local pastry shop.
I started doing the Made to Crave Action Plan last month. It is a very sensible addition to what I'm doing with Weight Watchers. Lysa asks us to drink 14 ounces of water first thing in the morning, add in Omega 3, add in fiber, add in exercise and subtract some calories. It's not rocket science and any good trainer will say that weight loss is simply an equation; calories in minus calories out.
I just feel like God has stopped listening to my requests for help with this. I have struggled with my weight for my entire life. I'm about to turn 35 and so that's 35 years of just struggling and fighting and not finding peace with myself. 35 years of trying and failing, of getting bigger and bigger.
I want to be better. I don't want to be worried about weight limits on water slides. We went to a water park a couple of towns away over this last summer; as I was getting ready to go down the slide, I saw that I was over the weight limit. It's so humiliating and it feels like I'm such a failure, like I'm not worth God's time.
I don't understand what I have to do. My sister-in-law has lost a significant amount of weight over the past 5 years, but I've had 2 more kids than her in that span of time. She gets up at 4:30 AM to work out; I can't do that. She belongs to a gym; we can't afford that. She spent most weekends last year running ultra type races (26+ mile races). I can't do that, either.
I want to throw in the towel (maybe that would help me lose more weight). I am so done with this body. I feel betrayed because in my heart, I want to be running again. I want to be more active with my kids. But my body just doesn't cooperate. I get winded climbing the stairs and I'm worn out by afternoon time. It feels like I'm just destined to be the mom that can't go down waterslides with her kids.
I don't know where God is in this struggle. I feel like he's busy, or like he's unconcerned with what my heart's desire is (to be healthy). I am angry that I have to struggle so much (and have a violent stomach flu) just to lose 0.8 pounds. Really? At that rate, it would take me 3 years to lose the weight I want to lose. I'll never make it.
I am feeling my normal weigh-in frustration blues. I was hopeful that the stomach flu would help me lose some weight. I did lose 0.8 lbs, but I am beginning to grow weary of the pace of my weight loss.
I started going back to Weight Watchers in late November; over the past 2 1/2 months, I've lost 2.5 pounds. That's it. Really, 2.4, but I'm rounding up. I feel really defeated, beaten down and discouraged.
I am overweight by 140 pounds. That's like an entire other person. I would have thought that losing weight at being that overweight would be easier, not harder. I have watched shows like Extreme Makeover: Body Edition and I hear what those people eat and think; my Lord, I don't eat that at all!! There was a girl who ate like 10 pounds of crawfish at one sitting. 10 pounds!! In my wildest dreams I couldn't consume that much at one meal. I don't eat fast food every day, I'm not hanging out underneath the donut dispenser at the local pastry shop.
I started doing the Made to Crave Action Plan last month. It is a very sensible addition to what I'm doing with Weight Watchers. Lysa asks us to drink 14 ounces of water first thing in the morning, add in Omega 3, add in fiber, add in exercise and subtract some calories. It's not rocket science and any good trainer will say that weight loss is simply an equation; calories in minus calories out.
I just feel like God has stopped listening to my requests for help with this. I have struggled with my weight for my entire life. I'm about to turn 35 and so that's 35 years of just struggling and fighting and not finding peace with myself. 35 years of trying and failing, of getting bigger and bigger.
I want to be better. I don't want to be worried about weight limits on water slides. We went to a water park a couple of towns away over this last summer; as I was getting ready to go down the slide, I saw that I was over the weight limit. It's so humiliating and it feels like I'm such a failure, like I'm not worth God's time.
I don't understand what I have to do. My sister-in-law has lost a significant amount of weight over the past 5 years, but I've had 2 more kids than her in that span of time. She gets up at 4:30 AM to work out; I can't do that. She belongs to a gym; we can't afford that. She spent most weekends last year running ultra type races (26+ mile races). I can't do that, either.
I want to throw in the towel (maybe that would help me lose more weight). I am so done with this body. I feel betrayed because in my heart, I want to be running again. I want to be more active with my kids. But my body just doesn't cooperate. I get winded climbing the stairs and I'm worn out by afternoon time. It feels like I'm just destined to be the mom that can't go down waterslides with her kids.
I don't know where God is in this struggle. I feel like he's busy, or like he's unconcerned with what my heart's desire is (to be healthy). I am angry that I have to struggle so much (and have a violent stomach flu) just to lose 0.8 pounds. Really? At that rate, it would take me 3 years to lose the weight I want to lose. I'll never make it.
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