ok, so... don't judge.
i've already shared my struggles with weight and food with you all several times.
since henley's birth, i've lost 75% of my pregnancy weight, but I have that damned last 25% to go. and i'd love to tell you it's my last 5 pounds... but it's more than that. don't pry too much. i'll disclose if you truly care and want to encourage me. but leave me alone to eat my damn carrot sticks in peace if you want to know for any other reason. and if you're a REAL friend, you'll let me whine about how fat i feel even though you think i'm looking fabulous compared to the me you saw 9 months ago. i want to live in my loathsome head right now and i'm too stuck in it to see myself for who i am... so don't try to argue with me. i'll just smile and nod and go back to my dark, chubby cave.
anyways...
it was fall break a few weeks ago.
fabulous fall break.
which also means i'd abandoned any sort of weight loss regimen and had indulged in the finer things in life that week. as i began to near the end of my diet vacation, my anxiety began rising... deep down i knew that feast of a week was soon to be famine and my very cells were screaming more! more! hurry! get as much in as you can!!
one evening was particularly stressful for me. we were decorating pumpkins, henley had hardly napped all day, kjaer and i were having one of those serious conversations that almost turns into a fight and doesn't but it sucks anyway, we were still not sure who the hell was going to watch our kids the following week because our beloved daycare was closing...
i was stressed. soooooo stressed.
so i thought, "i know, i'll eat a piece of cake with lots of icing! cake fixes everything temporarily." i had frozen some from henley's dedication and it was calling to me from our freezer in the basement. so i sliced myself a lovely corner slice with ample buttercream frosting while trying to simultaneously clean up dinner, keep henley from fussing and help paint pumpkins (though kjaer was mostly in charge of that, thank GOD!) my job was to play defense when henley would try to put her non-toxic painted hands into her mouth. i kept staring at my sugary, sexy icing just spilling off of my cake. i wanted to eat it so badly. but i knew i'd be busy for another couple of hours (until both kids were down) and i just couldn't wait any longer.
(and yes, our children were naked... or as leif says, "naken" which kjaer always calls "naken bacon" and it makes my heart melt a little).
so when it came time to wash paint off of henley, i carried my slice into the bathroom with me to eat while she played in the tub.
if you are already judging me... read on at your own risk and i don't want to hear from you how disgusting i am. i'm already aware of my shortcomings and i find them a little bit funny in a sick twisted way (hence, why i'm sharing them with you).
so the first problem (well, second problem if you consider that a piece of cake being eaten in a bathroom is a problem too) was that as soon as i set my plate down, my fork went flying through the air and landed behind the toilet.
Lord knows what could be on that floor... so i ran through a quick mental debate. the floor was just scrubbed a week ago, leif doesn't have bathroom rights in this bathroom, i have lucked out with one of those very clean men who never leave a mess around the toilet. the disgusting pros kept growing. but i knew i couldn't get up and get a new fork, because i had an eight month old who was fussing and needed to be quieted by warm bath water and floating alphabet letters. and because i wisely chose to cease the crying at once and put her in the water, i couldn't leave her. she's sturdy, but she's still a freaking baby that can tip over with the slightest change in air pressure. so, i picked up the fork, wipe it vigorously with a towel and told myself it can't really be THAT bad... right?
what's the saying???
“No matter how bad things are, you can always make things worse.” (Randy Pausch)
so, i was watching my mostly stable daughter gnaw on a foam letter while taking my first bite. if you know me, you know i eat the cake and filling first and save that delicious, sugary, decadent frosting for last. it's my favorite part. but right as the first bite on my fork is headed for my mouth, henley took a spill.
i threw my fork aside and to catch her before she went under... staring sadly at my piece of cake as it slid down the side of the tub and the crumbs spilled onto the bathmat. henley was fine... but i was not. i knew i should just concede and wait to eat my cake until she wasn't sitting in a tub full of water. but i continued to look jealously at that piece of cake during the rest of henley's bath, commiserating that i didn't even get 10 freaking minutes to myself to indulge in dessert (let alone go for a run or have a night out with my own husband). before i could stop myself i had opened the drain and henley was curiously watching the water drain away from around her little chubby thighs so that mommy could have her way.
i then took her out of the bathtub, wrapped her in her little monkey towel, stuck her in my lap and i ATE that damn piece of cake like a BOSS. right there on the bathroom floor.
as i was licking the last bit of frosting off of the fork, i came to my senses and realized all of the disgusting atrocities that had occurred in that span of 5 minutes. and while i could have sat there a few more minutes, feeling terribly sorry for myself and the depths to which i have fallen... i shrugged, got up, put my dish in the dishwasher and thought, thank God for things like cake on days like today.
being a mother has surfaced so many new pieces of me that i didn't know existed. if young, childless monica had read this blog post, she would have thought, what the... i'll never act like that crazy woman when i have kids! just like i used to think snotty things like that about other peoples kids before i had kids like... my kids will never act like that, it's disgraceful.
kharma is a b*&$% my friends.
i now have a 2 1/2 year old little boy... who has the biggest heart and happiest soul i know. BUT he also is an independent and strong willed 2 year old... and can be a rude little booger at that. sometimes, after he has matter of factly yelled at some poor unsuspecting soul YOU DON'T TALK TO ME i float above my body and look down thinking... this is what you get for judging others... judgy mcjudger. i literally have no idea what to do and feel like a failure. i just want to drown my sorrows in cake and hope it all works itself out without me having to figure out a way.
i'm coming to find that in the glory and blessing of being a mother... there is also the part of motherhood where we find ourselves crouched on the dirty bathroom floor eating cake.... wondering things like: when will i get 10 minutes to myself or when will i figure out what it takes to change my children's rude behavior or when will i finally snuggle into the nook of my husbands arm for the night or when did i last brush my teeth and comb my hair?
but then i remember that i also have moments where my vivacious two year old lays his hand on my cheek during naptime and whispers ever so sweetly, "mama... you are my sunshine," and i can muster up the moxy to keep moving and try my best.
so for all of you mommies out there who find yourselves at a low point, take heart. our babes give us those profound and beautiful moments to counteract all of the terribly messy ones we find ourselves sitting hopelessly in. and for those times when it still isn't quite enough... there's cake. lots of cake. so grab yourself a slice, pull up a bathroom rug and indulge with me as we figure out this messy, hysterical... and yet beautiful thing called being a mama.
being a mother has surfaced so many new pieces of me that i didn't know existed. if young, childless monica had read this blog post, she would have thought, what the... i'll never act like that crazy woman when i have kids! just like i used to think snotty things like that about other peoples kids before i had kids like... my kids will never act like that, it's disgraceful.
kharma is a b*&$% my friends.
i now have a 2 1/2 year old little boy... who has the biggest heart and happiest soul i know. BUT he also is an independent and strong willed 2 year old... and can be a rude little booger at that. sometimes, after he has matter of factly yelled at some poor unsuspecting soul YOU DON'T TALK TO ME i float above my body and look down thinking... this is what you get for judging others... judgy mcjudger. i literally have no idea what to do and feel like a failure. i just want to drown my sorrows in cake and hope it all works itself out without me having to figure out a way.
i'm coming to find that in the glory and blessing of being a mother... there is also the part of motherhood where we find ourselves crouched on the dirty bathroom floor eating cake.... wondering things like: when will i get 10 minutes to myself or when will i figure out what it takes to change my children's rude behavior or when will i finally snuggle into the nook of my husbands arm for the night or when did i last brush my teeth and comb my hair?
but then i remember that i also have moments where my vivacious two year old lays his hand on my cheek during naptime and whispers ever so sweetly, "mama... you are my sunshine," and i can muster up the moxy to keep moving and try my best.
so for all of you mommies out there who find yourselves at a low point, take heart. our babes give us those profound and beautiful moments to counteract all of the terribly messy ones we find ourselves sitting hopelessly in. and for those times when it still isn't quite enough... there's cake. lots of cake. so grab yourself a slice, pull up a bathroom rug and indulge with me as we figure out this messy, hysterical... and yet beautiful thing called being a mama.
