I'm very tired. Not just because BOTH kids were up half the night (one sniffling from allergies, the other one giggling), or from the duck that took up residence outside our window at 4 AM (what is up with the ducks lately?!?!?!), or even teaching 2 classes yesterday.
I'm tired of hating my body. I'm tired of gaining weight. I'm tired of thinking about food: what to eat, what I can cook that everyone will eat, what to send to school with the kids in their lunchboxes, etc. Am I feeding them enough healthy stuff? Too much salt/sugar/fat etc.? (Actually, I think we're doing pretty well in that dept. Yes, LG loves ramen noodles and WG adores her cookies, but they both also eat apples, salad, bananas, watermelon, whole-wheat pasta...) And WHY is it that Hubby can go rock climbing one day a week and look like the statue of David, while I work out endlessly (see previous post) and look like Winnie the Pooh?!?!
I'm trying, I really am, to accept my body. But it's kinda hard to do when it keeps chaging on me. And not in the way I'd like. 4 years ago, I cursed the scale when it wouldn't budge. Now, I'm wishing it would STOP moving-up-and start moving down again! Back to where it was 4 years ago would be nice! To the weight I was at when I thought I was fat. (Hey, that rhymes!)
I try to stop putting myself down for being fat, but that kind 0f self-loathing is hard to un-learn.
Yes, I have calmed myself down considerably in the past fews years. I have a MUCH better relationship with food than I used to, but it's still not where I want it to be. (Diet programs still call to me; I try to avoid their siren song. I know I'll just end up dashed against the rocks, as well as putting on even MORE weight.)
I look at a recent post, in which I was feeling so optimistic, and wonder what has happened.
And then I look at the calendar.
Ah. Now I understand.
It's enough to drive a saint to drink...too much coffee.
Luckily I don't turn to alcohol or drugs or cigarettes when I'm feeling low. I turn to pizza.
Hey, at least it's legal!
Which leads me to this:
I have to wonder how Kirstie Alley's daughter is dealing with her mom trashing herself in the media for putting the weight back on that she lost on Jenny Craig (*cough* spawnofsatandiet*cough*) . I'm sure she's getting the message, in a big way (no pun intended) that fat is EVIL, that she is nothing if she's not thin, that she will be unworthy if she puts on a pound, and that the world will be watching to see if she gains weight the way her, IMHO, gorgeous mother has.
Kirstie Alley is 58. 58!!!! And she's beating herself up for not looking 25. What the hey?!?!
And what is her son learning? To value women based on how they look?
My heart breaks for her kids. When she puts herself down I'm sure they feel it. It can't be easy for them to hear their mom talk about herself in the way she does. I remember, when I was a kid, my mom disparaging her body and her looks. I felt so sad because, to me, she was beautiful. And she couldn't see it.
I don't want to do any of that to my kids. I want them to grow up with two parents who love them, each other, and themselves unconditionally.
So, I'll keep plugging along. And when I find the answers, I'll let you know.