I used to be a size 8. Then this happened…
My body. Ugh.
Since pregnancy it hasn’t been in fighting form. Believe me I’ve tried and then I get defeated and give up. But on this round of defeat there seems to be a sense that I’m not that defeated. Perhaps it’s only a half defeat.
I’ve never been one of those God blessed women who lose weight quickly so the battle to loose the extra weight I put on during pregnancy hasn’t been easily lost. I still have a good part of the place where Davis used to live. In all honesty, the extra pounds have been winning this fight by a long shot. It’s been hard.
Not just physically but time wise. And stress wise. First, let’s address the time (or lack there of) since that will be a much shorter rant. With work, Davis time, being Mom, then being Dad there’s barely time for me to get a proper work out done. I’ve tried scheduling but it’s freaking hard. There’s always the laundry to be folded, the work that needs finishing, the things that need to be fixed, the toddler who’s tired and needs Mommy NOW. If I could get up earlier I would but I’ve tried… 3:30a.m. is as early as I can get up on a regular basis. Right now that works and I have to deal with the waking hours I have.Now, the stress. All the emotional crap I have had to deal with (and still do in varying degrees of severity) is ridiculous. Ridiculous for any parent but a little more so for a single parent because there isn’t two people dealing with the problems and taking part in the daily living. Yes, this is a constant thing I bring up but it’s also the thing that I find the hardest as a single parent. Making decisions on things like buying a house is so difficult when you don’t have that other person, your partner, to sound off on it. If I didn’t have Davis, my bad decisions wouldn’t matter so much. But I have been blessed with her and they do. Not having a partner in this journey is stressful at time, perhaps simply because making those decisions takes so much longer.
Then there is a bit of pressure in being that parent who is the sole provider for their child, the love of their life, trying best to fill both roles for a healthy, fulfilling existence. It is so important for me to spend quality time with Davis everyday but it’s also important that I continue to build my career so I can give Davis the life I believe she deserves. I don’t want to be that parent that can’t afford to go to Disneyland or send her to dance competitions. I also don’t want to be that parent who only works and never spends time with their kid. Although they have their best interests in mind it doesn’t always have the best results.Another stress – the non-existent Baby Daddy and our dealings in the first year of sweet Davis’ life. Constant wondering if Baby Daddy was going to have any sort of personal relationship with his daughter. I’ve never asked for financial support and never will. But don’t you want to know this wonderful, beautiful child you helped create? Seriously, why are some men such cowards at times? At least have the descency to come and visit to discuss the situation face to face. What? Airfare too expensive. So is raising a child, who is your best gift ever, and you want to give them everything they deserve.
These stresses (and others) always lead to one of my biggest downfalls – I am an emotional eater who suffered from bulimia for years. Thus, the vicious cycle I’ve been in since Davis was born goes like this: I’m happy, eating healthy and excercizing, stress hits I get sad, anxious and I eat junk food. Work outs stop. In short I get defeated.
Recently, I found myself falling back into that dark place of blah and excess. But this time it’s different and I think it’s different because I joined the office Chubb Club, a weight loss challenge where we pitched in money and the person who loses the most percentage of body fat wins to pot. I was hard at it for three weeks and then I noticed I had barely lost any weight. Not wanting to give up I told myself to stay off the scale. But then came stress rearing it’s ugly head and I fell off the Chubb Club wagon. It was a week or so later that I noticed this time the darkness wasn’t that dark. This time the excess wasn’t that excessive. Instead of that whole box of cookies it was a couple and a bottle of wine was only a glass or two. Meals are smaller, even when I’ve taken seconds, and it’s way easier to say no thanks to the junk food at work than before. The only thing that’s different than before is the Chubb Club and it seems to have brought this defeatist into a world of positive change – slowly coming forward. This alone is inspiring enough to continue the battle.
It’s this positive change that is a shining light in the darkness reminding me that it is working. Reminding me to get my butt back on track and stop whining.
Thank-you, Chubb Clubb. Even if I don’t win you’ve helped.