I named this blog “Confessions of a Working Mother”, so I suppose there should be some confessions here once in a while. So here goes . . .
I don’t think I’m very good at being a working mom.
Now I know that women tend to be too hard on themselves, and I’m no exception, but I just think that other working moms seem to handle it better than I do. I just haven’t been able to figure out how to work full-time, keep the house clean, spend enough time with the kids so they won’t be scarred for life by my absence, keep them fed with good, nutritious food (which must be organic and free of high fructose corn syrup, partially hydrogenated oils, MSG, steroids, hormones and any other evil I can’t think of at the moment or haven’t heard about yet), nurture my relationship with my husband, work on my personal development and expand my skill-set so that I can advance at work, watch enough t.v. so that I have a clue what people are talking about around the watercooler, work on the novel that’s been percolating in my head for the past 6 years, keep up with the latest fashion and hair styles, stay slim and in shape, and make sure I have enough “me time” so that I don’t go crazy. Oh, and don’t forget the necessary 8 hours of sleep every night. There’s more, but I think that gives you a basic idea.
I just don’t have enough hours in the day to do all that. I’ve gotten pretty good at multitasking, but still something is going get put off or pushed to the side.
I’m ashamed to admit that my children eat too many meals that consist of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, mac & cheese with chicken nuggets, or cheeseburgers and french fries. I know they should be eating organic eggs from free-range chickens with nitrate-free bacon for breakfast and grass-fed beef with pesticide-free veggies purchased from the local farmers market, but I have two hours from the time I get home till they need to be getting ready for bed and I’d like to spend some of that time interacting with them in a way that doesn’t include the sentence “You’ll eat it because it’s good for you and I said so.”
Another area in which I am failing miserably (much to my own embarrassment) is housekeeping. I don’t like to invite people over because my house is never clean. Ten minutes after I finish cleaning something, it is dirty again. When I had only one child and didn’t have a job, I mostly kept up with it, but now it’s out of control. In some ways I’ve given up trying to have a clean home because the amount of time it would take to keep everything clean would leave me nothing left to do any of the other things I listed above. So, somewhere along the way, I decided that it was more important for me to spend time actually playing with my children rather than following them around the house with a vacuum in one hand and a wet wash cloth in the other.
Does that make me a bad mom? Maybe by some standards. Sometimes by my own. Most days I’m ok with it. Now and then, though, I encounter another mother at the mall who works full time and looks like she just stepped out of Vogue magazine with her kids who could be featured in a Baby Gap ad. She talks about the dinner party she had at her home last weekend and the gourmet meal she made, from scratch. I start wondering why I can’t keep it all together they way she does. What character flaw do I have that she is obviously lacking?
Then her four year old daughter throws herself on the floor in a kicking, screaming tantrum because she just saw my daughter wearing a Tinkerbell costume and it reminded her that she wanted to wear her Cinderella dress, not this outfit that matches her baby sister!
That’s when I realize that looking perfect doesn’t mean being perfect. (And I make myself feel better by telling myself that she probably has a rich husband and a housekeeper to do all the things that she’s not doing while making herself and her children look so good.)
I can only hope that when it comes time to pass through the Pearly Gates, “Thou shalt have a clean house” won’t be the 11th Commandment that all who enter must have kept. Maybe God will forgive me for not trying to be perfect. ^_^
But the Lord said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
Friday, April 18, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
Unexpected News
Well, it’s official. I’ve had suspicions for the past couple of weeks, but didn’t really know until today that it is true. I almost can’t believe it.
So what’s the big news, you ask? No, I’m not pregnant. No, my husband isn’t cheating on me. No, I haven’t been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for blogging. The news is that as of today, I wear a size 8. Yes, a size 8, as in a single digit on the tag in my jeans. I tried on 8’s in three different brands at Macy’s, just to be sure. For me, this is an occasion for celebration! I haven’t been able to wear this size since I was a freshman in high school.
For those who don’t know me personally, I’ve spent the last year and a half working hard to lose weight. Low carbing is my method of choice. (If you are interested in learning more, ask, and I’ll point you in the right direction.) In October of 2005 I weighed in at a little over 200 lbs. I count my starting weight as 205, but I don’t really know for sure what it was, since I didn’t have a scale and only weighed at other people’s houses. I was growing out of my size 16 stretch jeans. I knew it was getting bad because I didn’t like to get down on the floor to play with my daughter because all my belly fat squished my lungs when I leaned over and made it hard to breathe. I preferred to wear slip-on shoes because tying my shoelaces was so uncomfortable. I had very little energy and tried not to stand up and sit down too much because my knees were starting to hurt. All these things should have clued me in that I needed to make a change, but somehow I just kept telling myself that it wasn’t that bad. The person I saw in the mirror needed to lose some weight, but certainly wasn’t obese.
Then I saw a picture taken of me at my birthday dinner. I actually really saw myself. I don’t know why it’s so much different to see it in a picture rather than the mirror, but it was different. I could no longer deny that my weight was out of control. Something clicked in my mind and I decided at that moment, “This is it. I have to lose this weight. I’m done being fat.” I knew that Atkins worked for me because I had lost around 40 pounds a few years earlier on that plan. (The weight came back because of a lot of drama in my life that took my focus off my eating as well as having and nursing two babies.)
I changed the way I was eating that day and I haven’t looked back since. I certainly haven’t been perfect, but I have been consistent and I think that that is the one of the primary things that has gotten me to where I am now.
Along the way, I met a very special group of ladies on LowCarbFriends.com that have helped me to be accountable and stick with this thing when it got hard. Actually, there was one lady in particular who has been with me through it all. Pri17cess, I don’t think I ever said “Thank You”. I hope you know how much I appreciate you.
So, back to my original topic. Size 8. I actually thought that it was not possible. I really believed that size 10 was probably as small as I could go. If you had told me two years ago that I could get down to an 8 and even think about trying for a 6, I probably would have thought that you were making some kind of cruel joke at my expense. All my life I’ve been told that I have what are affectionately referred to as “good birthing hips”. My mom told me that I was a “pear-shape” when I was a teenager, since I carried most of my weight in my hips and thighs. This was true, but it led me to believe that it was a condition that would never change. I was told many times that I “carried my weight well” which was supposed to be a compliment, I know, but told me that I was just meant to be on the heavy side. Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that I’m not as big-boned as I thought. My hips aren’t forever doomed to stay size 10 or larger.
I still have a little bit of weight to lose. Maybe 10 or 15 lbs. I don’t really know for sure because I’ve never been at this weight as an adult. I’m just going to have to get there and see how it looks on me. I think that I’ll know if I ever get past the point of looking slim to emaciated. If not, my husband loves me and will tell me if he thinks I’ve lost too much.
It’s funny for me to talk about the possibility of losing too much. I’ve been at least slightly overweight since I started puberty. I spent several years trying to convince myself that I should just accept that I was overweight because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life loathing my body because it wouldn’t function like others and be naturally slim on the typical American diet of pasta, donuts and french fries. Being too skinny was not something that could happen to me. But here I am, trying to make sure that not only do I get myself to a healthy weight, but keep myself in a healthy mindset about it, too. It’s a paradigm shift, to be sure.
It didn’t happen overnight, and I think I’m glad it didn’t. I’ve had a few stalls, (and actually am in the middle of a long one right now) but I think those times have helped give me time to adjust to my smaller body as well as the changes in the way people interact with me as a result of it. I’m not ready to say that I’m at my goal weight, yet. But this is a big milestone for me, and I couldn’t help but share it with anyone who would listen (or read, as the case may be).
So what’s the big news, you ask? No, I’m not pregnant. No, my husband isn’t cheating on me. No, I haven’t been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for blogging. The news is that as of today, I wear a size 8. Yes, a size 8, as in a single digit on the tag in my jeans. I tried on 8’s in three different brands at Macy’s, just to be sure. For me, this is an occasion for celebration! I haven’t been able to wear this size since I was a freshman in high school.
For those who don’t know me personally, I’ve spent the last year and a half working hard to lose weight. Low carbing is my method of choice. (If you are interested in learning more, ask, and I’ll point you in the right direction.) In October of 2005 I weighed in at a little over 200 lbs. I count my starting weight as 205, but I don’t really know for sure what it was, since I didn’t have a scale and only weighed at other people’s houses. I was growing out of my size 16 stretch jeans. I knew it was getting bad because I didn’t like to get down on the floor to play with my daughter because all my belly fat squished my lungs when I leaned over and made it hard to breathe. I preferred to wear slip-on shoes because tying my shoelaces was so uncomfortable. I had very little energy and tried not to stand up and sit down too much because my knees were starting to hurt. All these things should have clued me in that I needed to make a change, but somehow I just kept telling myself that it wasn’t that bad. The person I saw in the mirror needed to lose some weight, but certainly wasn’t obese.
Then I saw a picture taken of me at my birthday dinner. I actually really saw myself. I don’t know why it’s so much different to see it in a picture rather than the mirror, but it was different. I could no longer deny that my weight was out of control. Something clicked in my mind and I decided at that moment, “This is it. I have to lose this weight. I’m done being fat.” I knew that Atkins worked for me because I had lost around 40 pounds a few years earlier on that plan. (The weight came back because of a lot of drama in my life that took my focus off my eating as well as having and nursing two babies.)
I changed the way I was eating that day and I haven’t looked back since. I certainly haven’t been perfect, but I have been consistent and I think that that is the one of the primary things that has gotten me to where I am now.
Along the way, I met a very special group of ladies on LowCarbFriends.com that have helped me to be accountable and stick with this thing when it got hard. Actually, there was one lady in particular who has been with me through it all. Pri17cess, I don’t think I ever said “Thank You”. I hope you know how much I appreciate you.
So, back to my original topic. Size 8. I actually thought that it was not possible. I really believed that size 10 was probably as small as I could go. If you had told me two years ago that I could get down to an 8 and even think about trying for a 6, I probably would have thought that you were making some kind of cruel joke at my expense. All my life I’ve been told that I have what are affectionately referred to as “good birthing hips”. My mom told me that I was a “pear-shape” when I was a teenager, since I carried most of my weight in my hips and thighs. This was true, but it led me to believe that it was a condition that would never change. I was told many times that I “carried my weight well” which was supposed to be a compliment, I know, but told me that I was just meant to be on the heavy side. Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that I’m not as big-boned as I thought. My hips aren’t forever doomed to stay size 10 or larger.
I still have a little bit of weight to lose. Maybe 10 or 15 lbs. I don’t really know for sure because I’ve never been at this weight as an adult. I’m just going to have to get there and see how it looks on me. I think that I’ll know if I ever get past the point of looking slim to emaciated. If not, my husband loves me and will tell me if he thinks I’ve lost too much.
It’s funny for me to talk about the possibility of losing too much. I’ve been at least slightly overweight since I started puberty. I spent several years trying to convince myself that I should just accept that I was overweight because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life loathing my body because it wouldn’t function like others and be naturally slim on the typical American diet of pasta, donuts and french fries. Being too skinny was not something that could happen to me. But here I am, trying to make sure that not only do I get myself to a healthy weight, but keep myself in a healthy mindset about it, too. It’s a paradigm shift, to be sure.
It didn’t happen overnight, and I think I’m glad it didn’t. I’ve had a few stalls, (and actually am in the middle of a long one right now) but I think those times have helped give me time to adjust to my smaller body as well as the changes in the way people interact with me as a result of it. I’m not ready to say that I’m at my goal weight, yet. But this is a big milestone for me, and I couldn’t help but share it with anyone who would listen (or read, as the case may be).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
