Lucky There's Me

Little bursts of motivation happen continuously. I tend to fall into trouble when all the good-feeling starts to wane and my effort becomes routine. Can I be happy with routine? The sort of discipline that contributes to success?

Maybe I can. Maybe.

Now that I'm not over-employed I have time to lay in bed when I'd rather stay warm and comfortable. I can choose to ignore the internal alarm that has developed from my always-busy lifestyle. My kid is old enough to get herself ready to school and off in its direction. I don't have to do a thing.

But, I want to. I get emotionally high from taking care of my daughter. When I'm awake with her in the morning and looking after her just a little it makes me happy. Having to leave before she's off to school every day, leaving her to do whatever it takes to get there without my company, has sucked so much.

So, even though I can sleep in and ignore the urge to get myself out of bed, I realized (this morning) I wouldn't. There are so few years left for me to share these early hours with my kid. College is a future we can touch.

Having routine momentum is a tough one for me, or was, until I realized I can totally love my routine every weekday morning. And somebody else can, too.

We both get so pleased when I am ahead of her just a couple of small steps, just being around to listen to whatever mumbled ramblings she has on her mind before her school day starts. I make her breakfast....she takes time to eat it...we have a few minutes of exchange before she's off.

Normally, she grabs something easy (like a banana or whatever) and eats it or forgoes food til the end of the school day. Being home and awake for her day start is this is one thing I can take part in, be of help with, and enjoy 'til she is truly on her own. 

I know she's capable of getting here to there on her own.  She does a lot for herself. She has for years. I get to be a mom with my new hours, though, and we both like that.

For the past few months I've reduced my hours at work again and again until, finally, I decided to just be home...and in that time, she and I have grown together more closely. I have to credit breakfasts and the minutes of listening when she gets home from school. I am here for the debriefings and can provide a place to let out stress.

And you know what? It makes her happy. And that motivates me to be here even more. I mean here, in her life, on earth for as long as I can keep my life going, not just here at home. Her jokes, her health, her trust and confidence, the way she shares her life with me, expects me to just "be there" for her, is just the motivation I need for when my own momentum slows.

I tell everyone I am lucky to have her. I am.

Being home has shown me that she is just as lucky there's me.

I want to keep her lucky for as long as I can.

My internal motivation, my fitness, my health, is within me - there is no question of that. And right now I happen to like that I have new-found wisdom to carry me when my internal motivation starts to wobble. "Lucky there's me." Recognizing how important I am to my daughter, even in the littlest ways. Really cool reinforcement. I think I can love routine.

Body Modification

Before now, I narrowed my intention toward getting thin or "getting healthy." In my mind, diet and exercise would, as other living examples show, result in a more pleasing figure and increased ease of movement, bolstered confidence, a better way of life, and earn the acceptance of fat-haters. Oh, and improve my overall health.

Health is that little price tag that dangles from the armpit of intention. You don't realize it's there unless it sticks you. It's the least motivating side-effect of working hard to modify my body and yet it is the most important one to talk about with others. Why?  Because, if I at least talk about health, it will get you off my case!

I like to do things at my own pace, my own way, without having to practice your suggestions.  Why do you insult my intelligence by telling me what works to lose weight? I've been a big girl for longer than I want to remember - don't you think I know by now? Maybe my body shape is proof that I haven't employed the tactics very well...but that doesn't mean I don't know how to take care of myself. Who hasn't learned that diet+exercise=win? And who hasn't failed at diet + exercise again and again and again? Buzz. Off.

Say hello to my evilbrain. It is full of ire and stress developed by years of denial, aggravation, failure, sadness - whatever negatives you can name to go with it - at not being able to lose weight even though I, like everybody else who has attempted it, know the magic formula.

And it has me thinking, if I know what to do, and I know it will work, why don't I just do it? What is getting in the way of my being how I want? Diet. Exercise. Diet. Exercise. Diet. Exercise. Imagine a brick in each hand, one with DIET etched in it, the other EXERCISE. Now think of me smacking my forehead with them in alternating strokes. Dude, why doesn't this shit sink in?

Because, It's not enough to know it. I really have to live it. Too often, I want to garner credibility for my efforts, no matter how small and inconsistent.

"Credibility is what you earn after you do what you say you will do." - Anonymous

Yeah.

I accept that I have a pretty serious food addiction that I need help to control. How can I have a successful go at doing so? Evilbrain surgery. It's drastic, I know, but I can't change my body unless I change my mind. So, I'm going back to my behavioral health counselor. Step two in my plan to take over my world.

I'll be back to share the crazy details of our Friday session.