I was bad yesterday. My sister texted me around 8:30 PM and said, "Where's your food journal?" I texted back, "I'd rather not list it."
After five days at home with the kids by myself, the last thing in the world I wanted to do last night was make dinner. It took me nearly an hour to pick up two of the kids and make it to my Mom's house where Number One was waiting. Then, Number One wanted to bring a petrified lizard into the car, and so that was another battle. There was no gas. I needed to go to Costco. I drove to Costco and then we went to Ixtapa. I had already decided at 5:15, on the way to get Number Two I needed some cheese. There's nothing better than comfort food.
I'm thinking a chicken and cheese quesadilla probably has about 1,000 to 1,500 calories. I ate the whole thing. So, no, I didn't log it. I'll do better today, even though I'm going out to eat for a friend's birthday lunch. I'll have to make better choices. Sometimes it's okay to splurge, and last night was one of those nights.
On the way home, the boys would not stop saying, "Stupid butt," and giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world. I told them not to say, "Stupid butt," which just brought on more giggling. They giggled themselves into bed, and they giggled and laughed and mimicked me while I read them their bedtime stories, and they giggled when I sang, "You Are My Sunshine," and when I got onto them for being loud. Then Number Two started crying and Number One said he didn't want Number Two to sleep with him, and they fell asleep, chests rising, tears fresh on their eyelashes, exhausted from all that giggling.
The giggling reminded me of a time when I was little and my Mom and I went down to Sebastian, Florida to visit her family. For some reason, I think it was just she and me, but my cousins were all there. We were exhausted when we arrived, and we went into the basement and pulled out the foutons and lied down, and I couldn't stop thinking of funny things to say.
I said, "Goodnight John-boy!"
My Mom giggled, and I fell into a fit of laughter and she said, "We're slap happy from being so tired."
And I curled up next to her and I went to sleep, exhausted from the thrill of just being alive.
I've had a few weeks of ho hum. A few weeks of, "I can't do what I really want with this stupid leg fracture, so I'm just going to sit on the couch and act like a baby."
Then I tried on a pair of my jeans, and they were getting tight. Everyone knows that feeling, right? You slip into your jeans, expecting them to fit the same way they did last time you put them on, but instead they are hard to button. Your belly fat hangs lasciviously over the rim of the denim fabric, and you justify it to yourself, "That's because I just washed and dried them yesterday. Denim tightens up, it will loosen up as I wear them through the day." But then it doesn't loosen up, and you realize something (like Trixie!!!)..."I've gained weight!!!"
Yes. Ten stupid pounds. Ten pounds of, "I can't do what I want, so I'm not going to do anything and I'm going to sit here on the couch and read books, watch TV, and stuff my face."
Enough of that. That's stupid (the word of the week, Miranda Grace). That doesn't get you anywhere except for maybe two or three sizes up.
I really have my oldest sister to thank for the motivation. She signed up for MyFitnessPal, and I added her as a friend. She messaged me and said, "Input your food, girl!!!" So, I did. I started on Saturday, and then I input it again on Sunday, and already I'm feeling better. I can tell I was eating too much.
Yesterday, I did my own strength training class at home, complete with medicine ball, sit-ups and push-ups. Then, I picked up my bike from my parents' house, and I rode it home. I'll tell you riding a road bike after years of not doing it is not as easy as it looks. It took me nearly 30 minutes to go 4.59 miles! The wind was pushing against me, and I pedaled and pedaled, but I really wasn't getting anywhere fast.
Still, I woke up today, and I could tell a difference. Not in pants' size yet, but in my attitude. I simply feel better when I exercise and eat right. It makes a huge difference in my moods, and I know I have to incorporate it in my life in anyway I can.
