But...i HAD to eat all the chips, so they won't be there tomorrow.

Just when i think i have figured out this fitness, healthy lifestyle, exercise thing...IT happens. A holiday weekend. A birthday party. An unexpected bill. A sick kiddo that keeps me up all night. And then, the inevitable falling off of the health wagon. And smashing the health wagon with a sledgehammer. A sledgehammer that is made of candy, chips, 8 pieces of toast with butter, peanut butter, and honey.

I texted my husband (yes, the smokin' hot one) Monday, around 8am, that i was throwing the towell in on this week, health-wise. When you have a sick child, there are no workouts. There isn't time to make weird (i mean yummy) measured breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. You revert to grabbing handfuls of whatever and missing workouts, and gravitating back to your fat jeans. Or your husbands flannel pj pants. Or the maternity capri jeans that you found under your bed, covered in dust bunnies and what appears to be a family of dead worms. Pop those bad boys on, and you're ready for some more toast. Seriously, try that toast. Insane.

My husband quickly texted back, "It's too soon to give up on the week at 8:00am on a Monday, you can do this, i love you.", which in my tired state, i took as, "stop being fat and make good choices, your night couldn't have been that bad - blaa-blaa-blaa". And in my mind, i had a whole argument with him...one where i text back, "Ok, let's trade lives and see how you feel about that. YOU are with grown-ups every day. YOU can go to a gym and have uninterrupted workouts for 2 hours a day. You get to buy Starbucks, and walk around the city, and dress nice and...YOU. SLEEP. AT. NIGHT.". Gosh i'm a sweet lady.  Not vindictive in the least.

But i text back, "We'll see, love you, honey", instead. Twenty minutes (and 8 peices of toast) later, i realize, he was just trying to be encouraging in the man-way. He knows i have been working hard, and doesn't want me to give up. He does NOT think i am fat, even if i was circus side show size, he would not think that. He loves me no-matter what, and thinks i am perfect. And i love that! I do not love how quickly i go into crazy, unreasonable, fight club mode in my head. But a large part of it goes hand in hand with not taking (or not being able to take) time for myself - which is usually in the form of a workout, and taking the time to set up my own meals.

It's just sometimes, real life doesn't allow for that. I know it will pass, and i'll get back in the swing of things. The key is not going to the point, and trust me, i have done this too many times to count, where i give up - start resenting everything, everyone, and playing this weird blame game in my head about all of it! I think things like, "it must be nice to be able to have a gym membership", "must be nice to do what you want, when you want", "must be nice to have a babysitter whenever you need one". When really, i just need to TAKE the time. Just take it. Be a little "selfish". And not feel guilty about it. I think there are some people out there who like to make you feel bad for taking time for yourself, when it's something they personally wouldn't do...they don't put together that everyone does that differently. I don't take naps. I don't go to a salon, or have frequent "girls nights". I just want 90 minutes a day to be a sweaty, disgusting mess, and pretend that i am going to end up looking like someone in a fitness competition.

But today, today i am eating a cold pizza turnover - while, and this is important - i look at pictures of Faith Hill...and i think, "she totally eats pizza turnovers....yup...". Back at it tomorrow. Or next Monday. Whatever. It'll happen. And now i don't have that pizza turnover to tempt me.
~Sue