Perfect mornings . . .

Week two.  Of school.  Of life changes.  Of walking again - back and forth to school.  Our mornings are like a perfectly choreographed ballet - NOT!  I leave the house feeling like a chicken with it's head cut off.  Heading in a direction towards school and hoping we get there intact.  I almost want to make myself a checklist at the door.

Stroller - check.
Lunches - check.
Backpacks - check.
Jackets - check.
Water bottles - check.
MP3 player - double check.
All three kids - check, check, and check.
Where's the cat? 

What the heck?  How did he get out again?  And now I'm running down the street like a crazy woman chasing my escapee kitty who's acting like he's been possessed by demons.  Have you ever tried to catch a hissing, biting, scratching, fuzzed-out, wide/wild eyed creature with razor sharp claws and teeth to match?  It's just so much fun I want to put a candle on it and sing "Happy Birthday" to add the giggles.

Caught the cat, kids sorted, and we're on our way.  The sun is shining brightly and it warms my face and I take a moment to breathe.  And then, SMACK!  Right into a spider web.  This is part where I start looking like a crazy woman again.  Or a deranged ninja on crack.  Choice words running through my head.  Full body pat down to find the offending arachnid.  Kids doubled over laughing at me.  Ungrateful little beings.  Maybe I should have stopped next to the guy toking on the sidewalk and asked him for a drag (not really, it was bad enough walking through his haze).

On the way home, it's just me and my "babes", Ava.  Her cold little fingers in my hand, pushing the stroller with one hand.  Stopping every ten seconds to pick a flower or a leaf or look at a bug or an airplane or a colour or "look there's a squirrel!"  Good times.

I am going to do my best to cherish these days with Ava because they are going to go by so fast and before I know it she'll be in kindergarten.  Grateful for the time I get to spend one on one with my littlest.

Making change . . .

I need to make some changes.  Well, probably quite a few changes.   I am trying to get past the  “I'm really mad at myself for being so incapable of taking care of me.”  And the,  “This really sucks and I feel like crap.”  It's not a pity party.  Having struggled with my weight for so many years has caught up with me.  My Doctor called it “metabolic syndrome.”   Ha ha ha.  That's kind of funny.  A way of sugar-coating the fact that I am overweight and have not been physically active enough to have normal blood pressure, normal blood sugar levels, or normal cholesterol levels.  All are just high enough to be out of the acceptable range, but low enough that he won't prescribe medication (I'm good with the no meds).  It's up to me.  Well, just – freaking – great!

A month or so ago there was a blogger who started a “write a love letter to your body” project.  At the time I was colossally busy and by the time I sat down to do it and submit it, it was outside the time line for contributing.  I do think I need to write my body an apology though.  Something along the lines of, I really messed you up good, eh.  So sorry I didn't take better care of you.  I let you go and let myself think that because I was so busy looking after everyone else you didn't matter.  Well, that's about to change and I'm just cranky enough about it to make sure it does.

Today is day four of no refined sugar.  Black coffee.  No BBQ sauce on my salmon.  No mayo on my sandwich.  Fruit and veggies rock!  And smoothies are the best!  Tomorrow, I start walking to school again with the kids, so this slug-slump, it's over.

I'm trying really hard to not be cranky.  I'm going to blame it on the sugar withdrawal.  And the absence of chocolate.  My husband informed me I wasn't being very nice.   I would have to agree.  Making life altering changes are not always fun and enjoyable and jump up and down with glee.   I'm struggling with my internal voice of condemnation and it makes me frustrated, that, at this point in my life, I cannot just ignore the negative thoughts.  That niggling in the back of my mind that wants to undermine me and what I need to do.  I will prevail though.   I don't really have a choice.  Well, I do, but the alternative would be diabetes, heart attack, blindness, kidney failure (doesn't that just sound like a right good time).  I want to be around for my kids and I would love to be around for grand-kids, should I be so lucky.  

So, yeah, changes.  Happening.  One simple decision at a time.  One black cup of coffee at a time.  One foot in front of the other.  Grateful for the wake up call.