My day started off in the deficit when I woke myself up, terrified, that I not only overslept my alarm, but was thirty minutes late for receiving my baby. Only once I had completely woken myself up and was oriented enough to check the time on my phone (the clock on the other side of the room was still groggy looking) did I discover that I still had an hour of sleeping time. Trying to calm my racing heart, I was jumpy for the next hour, sure that my day was going to start later than it was supposed to. Strike One.
After a number unsuccessful attempts at dieting(mostly pathetic attempts on my own), exercising and loosing weight, I vowed never again. I wasn't going to stay hungry to not loose weight. But here came another one, waving its banner of "eat real food!" and the testimonies of people dropping pounds and inches and if it wasn't for a number of people I know personally having success on this particular program, I probably wouldn't have bought it. Yet on the bandwagon I jumped and hating myself every second for it. Lets be honest, all I want is a doughnut, I've been hungry for a week now, and on the day that everyone else is posting "one week in and down three pounds!" I stepped on the scale and GAINED weight. Everyone else shedding the pounds and #lovingit and I'm over here, dumbfounded as I stare at the screen (we don't have a scale, so we use our Wii fit) +.2lbs. OK so I didn't even gain half a pound- but when everyone else is down three pounds, I would have been happy with one. But I didn't. More on this whole subject later; I haven't given up...I'm still on it. However, gaining the weight when everyone else lost, was my Strike Two.
Fast forward an hour, and my baby is now in his third outfit of the day. Why? My scattered brain wasn't there enough to think "hey the baby wearing cloth diapers needs a change now." Nanny of the year award. Strike Three.
Its not even 10AM and I have already struck out on my day. At this point, cue the "every wrong thought" flood, and I realize, I haven't worked out since Friday. I'm starving. Decrease my calorie intake. If I take one more swig of water I am going to hurl. Why is my baby only sleeping for 20 minutes at a time? Gosh I really want a slice of pizza. Great- my poor little sister did not need the blow of forceful words from me; its not her fault I can't loose weight. Did my license come? Mail comes: no license. (more on this later as well)
I'm still wearing clothes that at any given point have had a number of unidentified liquids on them. My hair looks like I haven't showered in a week. My room looks like Dorothy's house decided to land there instead of the Wicked Witch of the East. My self esteem is hanging out below sea level. And even this blog post has been devastatingly irritating to try to write. (Devastatingly is dramatic. I just really wanted to use the word devastatingly.)
And at the moment I think "THAT'S IT!" The sweetest eight year old is begging for me to snuggle with him. My mom is taking my baby and giving me a hug. And my dad gives me that good-bye-eye grin that makes me smile.
I still want a cupcake. I still feel pretty slummy. I still really dislike Mondays. But this day is no less the Lord's than tomorrow. My family is still loving me through my mood swings. And coffee is still the answer to a lot of questions.
As one of my favorite literary characters once said, "Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" Bring it Tuesday. After today, I can handle anything. Besides, Tuesday is Bible study day. And those are some of the best! :)
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