The best laid plans…

im-having-the-worst-monday-since-last-monday-funny-quotes

So last night I listed all of the grand plans I had for today. I think I accomplished two of them? I woke up with stomach flu of some sort, and while I’m truly dedicated to transparency regarding all of the $h1t in my life, I think you’ll be grateful that I’m going to skip filling you in on all the gory details of this $h1t. Suffice it to say, I was in pain and occupied for half the day. I did accomplish the errand in the nearby town, but I didn’t make it to the gym. Again. And I didn’t get the bathrooms cleaned or the laundry folded, but I did get the red beans and rice made, and I did get some more books unpacked (we now have bookcases in FIVE rooms in our house…yeah, lots of books). And computer issues earlier today (and TODDLERS), as well as the guests who Hubby has invited over every Monday night for medieval sword fighting training–even when he’s not here– meant I didn’t get the actual work I had planned done.

The guys are stuck late at work tonight. It’s after midnight and they’re not even on their way home yet, so I have a bit of time to write this before re-heating their dinner. I’ve already packed up all the extras I made (because I felt the need to do a double batch), so all that’s left is the dishes while they’re eating.

I’m hoping my stomach is in a better place today, because I really need to get to the gym tomorrow. Focus, right? I can do it…I’ve done it before.

I was down 170ish pounds five years ago. I was looking and feeling better than I literally ever had in my life. As someone who had been overweight since eight years old, it was certainly a triumph, and I was happy to be where I was. Then about four years ago, I got pregnant. It happened during a reign in the SCA, which meant I had everyone feeding me all the time, and had gained around 25 pounds when I suddenly wasn’t allowed to diet. My weight gain during the pregnancy was normal, and I lost all of the baby weight (and a bit more) in a mere two weeks after DD1 was born. Success! I was back on track, right?

Wrong.

I waited patiently, while I breastfed, to get back to dieting. And while I waited, I was up every two hours throughout the night, and I didn’t sleep while she slept during the day, because it was the only time I could get anything done! I returned to work three days after giving birth, as I was both the office manager and bookkeeper at our office at that point, and there was no one else who could do what our family business needed done. Lack of sleep, constant work between baby and feeding and housework and my personal business and our office….meant that I stopped getting the exercise I had focused on so diligently both before and during my pregnancy. Weight started to creep back on, and I couldn’t even call it baby weight, because I had already had the baby! And then, just as DD1 was getting to an age where the end of breastfeeding was in sight?

I got pregnant again. Ten month old baby and another one on the way. Don’t get me wrong, we wanted another child. It had just taken us long enough trying to get pregnant the first time, that we figured with my exclusive breastfeeding, the likelihood of me getting pregnant again that fast wasn’t likely. And we wanted a head start on trying, as my age meant the risks of pregnancy were ever-increasing.

I gained more weight while pregnant with DD2 then I did the first time. I didn’t eat as well, I didn’t exercise as much. And then, after I had her, I never lost all of the pregnancy weight.

When she was six months old, Daddy moved across the country to Louisiana for work. I was left alone with a six month old and a two year old. On my own, I had to close up all the work in his office, pack up our home, deal with the busiest time of the year for my business, get surgery on a breast that had suffered constant infections since the birth of DD2, take care of the kids by myself 24/7, and leave to join him less than a month after tying everything up. I don’t think I got more than four hours of sleep a night max during that four months. I lived off of stress, coffee, and leftover chicken nuggets (which was the only thing DD1 would eat after she turned two…well, that, and cheese and carbs).

I gained more weight.

I’ve gone up and down since then. I was down about twenty-five pounds in September. Then I gained it back. I’m down about seven pounds right now. The truth of the matter is, I need to stop using the excuse that I’m not allowed to be a priority, and make myself one. If something else falls to the wayside, I have to let it.

Put your own oxygen mask on first, right?

Easier said than done.

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