I am not throwing away my shot.

I’m thinking about food this morning, and instead of shoving it down [the thoughts] and compartmentalizing it, I’m taking the opportunity to look at it.

It’s been a long (great) week and there is an anxious feeling that the weekend feels sooo close, but it’s not here yet.

There are more clouds than sun.

I don’t feel like actively participating with my kid.

I’d rather downtime with sleep or a book or a shower or a movie.

I don’t feel like go go go this morning.

Coffee made me all acid refluxy this morning and that was a bummer.

I just plain ol’ don’t wanna today.

And seriously, where is the sunshine?

But amidst all that and more…I don’t have hunger.  I just think I want to eat. Because food was a good bandaid for so long. Because you embrace the thing that saves you when there is nothing else to save you.

Except I have other things to save me now. I save myself in countless healthy ways–connection and self-awareness and self-care and acknowledgement and breathing and compassion. And by saying “I feel this feeling and it will pass.”

So I came here to say it.

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Can’t you see I’m easily bothered by persistence?

The family and I ventured to an apple orchard today. We sampled a bunch of apples we had never heard of before,  tasted fresh honey, and searched our way through a 6 acre corn maze. It was 45° with sun for days.

I scored a honey nut squash (if memory serves; it was some sweet tiny squash I had never heard of) and a holiday apple.

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The day was almost exclusively spent enjoying all the things. Even after the boy had a meltdown from all the sugar.

It was the sort of weekend we all needed after Chris’s 10+ hour days last week…which will continue again for at least another week. Fuck tho, life is good.

When everything is wrong, we move along.

This week has been filled with muchness. Too much muchness. The stress and overwhelm and birthday and food and socialization and outpouring of juvenile ungratefulness. So I’m bringing it back to basics.

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  • Real food.
  • Just meals.
  • Water, magnesium, extra turmeric.
  • Minimize the noise.
  • Pay attention.
  • Sleep.
  • Repeat.

One foot in front of the other.

All the simple things you revel in.

I didn’t realize how much I’d resent taking this medication. Not because it’s putting toxins in my own body, which I’m less than okay with as well. But because it keeps me from nursing my boy.

It’s only a four hour delay. It’s only for five days. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But it is. Because now suddenly I feel taken from him. Now I feel inferior to who I was yesterday. Now I feel poisonous to him. And that part really fucking sucks.

The optimistic side of me says “It’s giving me the opportunity to connect with him in new ways!” and “Now I can appreciate what I had been taking for granted!” and that’s all well and good (and true), but it doesn’t stop it from sucking.

So today I will honor the Silver Lining Girl (because damnit, how can you not?! She’s annoyingly infectious.) and I will also embrace the suck.

And L and I will do our regular Friday tidying and cleaning. And we’ll run to the window and wave when we hear the trash truck. And we’ll take a trip to the store for diapers. And I’ll make it a day that he doesn’t know was any different.

That dirty game.

Today has been a challenging day. It was challenging before I even got out of bed–when my body was stiff and sore and I had just had a weird dream and the babe wouldn’t go back to sleep and the dog wouldn’t stop trying to paw at the babe’s face or lick my arm off.

Before I even got out of bed, I wanted to crawl back into bed and escape the day.

But as I stood in the kitchen, I thought how I should write about it. And then I thought, “Well, ugh! If I write about it, I’ll probably feel better faster and I want to wallow!”

But alas I don’t wallow well because it’s too important to me to do hard things. So I sucked it up and decided self-care and action would supersede the crap start. It is too out of character for me to believe a hard start has to mean a hard day. So I put three loads of laundry away and talked sweetly to the babe, who was having an OHMYGOD sort of morning. And I talked sweetly to the girl who was having a reactionary OHMYGOD morning because of the babe’s OHMYGOD morning. And I focused on the calm that usually enraptures me each morning, despite it being nowhere to be found today, and I willed the damn thing back.

Here I am, a good few hours later and I am the one that is contagious today. What’s your superpower?

Doing the unstuck.

Nothing particularly terrible happened yesterday. I had moments of agitation with my daughter. She has this way of crawling under my skin and shaking my calm. Her words often feel accusatory instead of curious. She questions every action I take, down to how I’ve oiled a pan. She constantly tells her 20mo brother to stop doing things not even mildly dangerous and warns “be careful” ad nauseum. She tells her 10yo brother that he’s dumb for doing or thinking something and whines over and over to leave her alone.

And I want all of it to not hurt so much.

Being critical of her for doing all these things is not going to teach her to stop being critical. Setting a good example hasn’t seemed to help. Ignoring these things and praising the good hasn’t seemed to do much. I want her to care, but I can’t make her care. I want her to be kind, but I can’t force her to do it. So, I’m just at a loss. Which leads me to yesterday.

Nothing terrible happened. It was a regular day. With regular interactions. And I navigated through the best I could.

Then last night Chris asked me, “What was a way you overcame something today?” And I thought back to all the things that happened and I couldn’t think of one productive way I overcame anything. I mean, there was nothing *wrong* with anything I did, but also nothing felt particularly right. I got through it and how I did it was unremarkable.

This morning as the gloom and hormones of the day tried to take hold, I decided I wanted to have a more fulfilling answer if Chris asked again. Hell, even if he *didn’t* ask again! So instead of focusing on my standstill with my daughter or all the things that didn’t get done this week, I just started doing stuff.

I cleaned both bathrooms and washed towels and stripped the beds and brought all the linens downstairs to be washed. I drank four glasses of water and made an amazing late breakfast and cleaned all the dishes from the day. I played ball with L and fed all the animals and cleaned off the dragon’s cage, which always collects all the stuff.

Today I overcame the gloom by replacing my destructive thoughts with constructive action.

All the pandemonium and all the madness.

I think I just need to suck it up and accept that in this moment of my life, I’m in a place of needing to vent. It’s not my intention to complain. And amidst the everything I remain ever grateful.

At the same time, fucking hell. It is hard right now. And every time I put myself out there, I feel like I’m met with clique-yness and exclusion.

And homelife is rough right now. I simultaneously feel like I’m on autopilot and trying soooo hard to keep everything even and progressing and accomplished.

I’m really proud of myself that I’ve kept so much clean since August. This is pretty unprecedented. But gosh it takes a lot of effort.

And then my husband, who is navigating a plethora of illnesses and injuries, seems to be sabotaging my evenings. He’s not meaning to. I don’t take it personally. It just adds an extra weight.

And I’m so tired.

Onward I want to go though. Today I successfully completed day two of my Whole30. I feel like I’m doing it alone. But if alone is how it is, I’ll accomplish it anyway.

For now, sleep.