Tag Archives: happiness

Week Six and Not enough Lettuce on the Mountain

Week Six started with me not getting weighed in at the completion of Week Five. In hindsight, I should have made time for my weekly check-in & reminder to take care of myself. Apparently, I need to hear those words repeatedly because I still suck at it.

I was so proud of myself this trip because I pre-planned every meal for my family. Right down to the condiments and seasonings. I have never been that organized and prepared for a vacation before and I was looking forward to everything going smoothly. And it did, until we sat down to eat supper and I realized that I couldn’t eat the food I’d prepared.

I’d actually forgotten to plan for myself.

By the middle of the week, I’d run out of fresh veggies and started my usual pattern of non-eating. I drank a lot of water, ate my protein packs and lean protein. And then I had a burger. With a bun.

I fessed up to my coach, and his response was, “Could you have just not eaten the bun”?

Why, yes, yes I could’ve done that. But I didn’t. In all honesty, it didn’t even cross my mind to not eat the bun. It was a good bun, which I’m now craving. Which is a problem.

The crazy thing about all of this is that I don’t feel deprived or that I’m missing out on anything. I don’t feel all woe is me or sad about the decisions that I’ve made to follow this plan. I don’t really want and most certainly don’t need the things I’ve given up. My fight is against old habits, and automatic reactions and motions that my brain and body just seem to do on their own.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone through a drive-through with my family and ordered myself something, only to throw it away once it’s in my hands. I’ve bought myself a drink, only to remember that I shouldn’t be drinking it once the straw is in my mouth. Or the burger that I’m about to eat while we drive to yet another appointment. It’s just another weird thing that I’m slowly working though. Old habits really, truly die hard. I am happy to report though that not a single drop of Tim Hortons Iced Capp goodness has actually crossed my lips in over 6 weeks, even though I’ve ordered a few. LOL.

My week on the side of a mountain was wonderful but I’m home now and all is right in my world. I’m back on track. I’ve got a fridge full of veggies and had my weekly reprimand and encouragement. It’s nice knowing that even though I didn’t do all that I needed to do, I’m still okay and I can still keep going. There’s a really nice peace in that.

No guilt and no regrets. Just another reminder that I need to think of myself sometimes. Not always first, but at least in the list somewhere.

That’s my challenge this week. Figure out how to be a Mom to Many without throwing myself to the bottom of the pile while I lift them up. This is going to be hard. But doable right?

Week Six brought me these gifts:

~ I lost almost 6 pounds.

~ The realization that I need new pants because I’m starting to look like I borrowed all mine from a very large lumberjack.

~ A great week with my family. Hamburger bun and all. I am blessed.

 

 

  • PLEASE JOIN ME. I can always use a buddy that’s in this with me. I’ve got an excellent coach in Suhas and his team at The Medicine Shoppe in Sherwood Park. They’re very encouraging, very supportive and have lots of great ideas and advice to share. They’ve also graciously made an offer for all of my friends that want to join me in this adventure. If you let them know that you read this blog and want to join my Dream Team of Losers, they’ll take 50% off of your registration costs. If you want more info, send me a message. Or reach out to the Coach here.

 

 

A Daily Taste of JOY

Pretty much everyone in the world has heard of Candace Payne and has heard her laugh more times than you can probably even count. You’ve all seen her video, and hopefully all of the follow-up videos and stories that show all the blessings that are coming her way. Just for being HER.

Candace became a little ray of sunshine in a world that, lately, seems to be filled with more darkness and despair. (According to the news anyways). That funny mask, the little snort and the un-containable joy reminded us that joy really is in the simple things. We just need to open our eyes and find them.

I for one fell in love with the Happy Chewbacca. Not because I love Star Wars & laughing & dumb videos, but because I witnessed joy in it’s purest form. It was contagious and it ignited a fire deep within my soul. Anyone that knows me, knows that I’m a pretty happy person, that I love Jesus, that I love laughing and that I, more than anything else in the world, want people to feel loved and accepted. No matter where they’re at, or what they look like, or how bad they’re feeling inside – I want them to have the same joy that Candace felt when she put on that goofy mask.

So – in response to my new best friend Candace’s story,  (Yes, I’ve decided we’re meant to be besties. Along with Melissa McCarthy & Rebel Wilson. Because seriously, how stinking awesome would that be? Chubby, happy and hilarious – we will be epic.) I’m starting my own happy story.

For the next 30 days, I’m going to share a little piece of joy that I’ve found in my world that day. It may be big, it may be tiny, but it will be something that made me stop and appreciate exactly where I was at, at that second.

Hopefully, it will remind you to find the moments in your life that take all the darkness away and just help you feel happiness.

Please feel free to share your joys with all of us as well because frankly, there can never be too much of a joyful thing.

My Daily Joy ….. 

I’ll be the first person to admit that this “joy” will seem pretty lame-o but at 7:00 am, it filled my heart with so much joy that I almost couldn’t contain myself. I went to make school lunches for the 6 and realized that we had no bread. I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out what random pantry items I could throw in a bag and call lunch, when I remembered. Quiznos4lunch. I went online, ordered them lunch for delivery and then sat myself down on the couch to eat my cup of ice while the little’s ate cereal.

It’s the simple joys people, simple joys.

 

The Road to Skinny … Or Not.

The beginning of a new year brings about the desire for change. It pushes us to think about what we want that is better than what we currently have. It seems to make our eyes focus on all that is wrong with us, and not necessarily all that’s right. It’s the time of year that people seem to think and/or hope will set off this huge firecracker under their butts and in their minds that will cause them to jump up and change. It’s a fresh start and a new beginning.

For me, the new year forces me to focus on my never-ending trek towards “skinny”.  It’s this thing that follows me everywhere I go. It’s the thing I cannot seem to conquer. It’s quite literally the very large elephant in the room that just won’t die, no matter how hard I try. Or maybe not.

If I were to be totally honest, I don’t think I’ve ever cared enough to really want to change it. I’ve got a couple of months worth of willpower, and about 47 seconds of desire. I’ve got all the knowledge in the world, and an incredible team of people willing to support and help me, but somehow I’m also good with where I’m at. I’ve got a massive desire to shop in any store, and not just the stupid chubby girl shops, but for some reason, I’m okay with not trying all that hard to change.

I’m Fat and Happy, and I don’t think this is how I’m supposed to feel.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be 6 sizes smaller. I’d like to be able to walk around the block without wanting to die. I like the idea of wearing shorts when it’s hot – no I NEVER wear shorts. I’d like to have more energy. I’d like my knees to not hurt. I’d love to sit outside in the summer and not want to die because I’m SO hot, which is a problem because as you know, I don’t wear shorts and fat people have a whole lotta extra insulation. I’d like to not have people give me the classic fat girl compliment, “You’ve got such a pretty face”, to me. Ever. Again. I’d like to be able to touch my toes, for no other reason to say that I can. I want to just take up less space.

So … where does that leave me? The Happy Fat Girl that want’s to be skinny, but doesn’t really care.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I truly feel about this subject, or if I’ll ever fully figure it out but I believe that it’s leading me somewhere. In some weirdo, round-a-bout backwards way, it’s taking me to what I really want and need. I want to be more focused. More centered and just more Me. I’m happy, but I want another level of happy. I want to be overflowing with Joy, so much so that it oozes from me and into the world around me. Skinny won’t accomplish that …. but I can.

2015 is going to be the Year of April. I’m going to write. I’m going to write about anything and everything and just write because I can. I’m going to spend time making my new blog fun and super successful. I’m going to move into a house that is exactly what our family needs. I’m going to fall back into mad love with my husband. I’m going to finally put all of my anxiety’s behind me, and step forward without worry about stupid things that I can not control. I’m going to focus on getting healthy and not care at all about skinny. Maybe a smaller size will follow, but whatever, I don’t care.

I’m excited about what’s to come and even more excited to figure out that my “Road to Skinny” is officially on a detour to somewhere totally different.

This road is officially leading to me.

design

 

 

The Hunt for a Happy Place

When I was young, I had a vision of what my life was going to look like.

I was going to be wealthy beyond measure. I was going to live in a mansion with servants. I would travel around the world and drive a really nice car. There would be much shopping, and many pairs of shoes. Jewelry, make-up and salon appointments would be a part of my daily life. It was going to be friggin’ awesome.

I met my amazing soon-to-be husband and we planned our fairy-tale wedding and then our life together. We talked about future hopes and dreams, and in my head, my vision was still alive.

We got married and we moved to another city. I didn’t move into a mansion but into a basement suite, in a place where I knew no one. I was not rich and was having to do all the cooking and cleaning myself. I was happily married, but I was not where I thought I should be. Suddenly, my vision was flung off to the side somewhere and reality set in.

I would spend days and sometimes weeks wondering if we’d be able to pay our mortgage. I was shopping in second-hand stores and only buying things that were on sale. The husband was always at work and I was home alone. I was going crazy from the peace and quiet that was now my life and I hated it.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my husband and I loved being married but I wasn’t prepared for the real world. I was 21 years old, had never lived on my own and had in fact, only lived with my parents. I never attended college and only had “life experience” to put on a resume. I was completely dependant on my husband, and had to rely on him for everything. If I needed to buy milk, or underwear or tampons, I had to ask him for money. I was madly in love, but totally trapped at the same time.

I eventually got a job, made some friends and fell in love with the city that I still call home. But for those particular moments in time, my vision had led me down a path of unrealistic expectations.

I adjusted to my new life, bills were paid, businesses started and failed. Travel and experiences occurred and then I dreamed of having children, and my wild visions went crazy again.

I was going to be a perfect Mom that bought her children only the best of everything. I was going to make their baby food, and teach them everything they needed to know. There was going to be hours spent playing and learning. I would do crafts and make up stories and play board games. They would be angels, and my life would be complete. It was going to be flippin’ fantastic.

And then I had babies. I was madly and deeply in love, but I was tired. With my first child, I had no clue what I was doing. I was fumbling about just trying to keep her alive. I let Barney and Wheel of Fortune teach her the alphabet and all of her colours. We played games and did fun things, but more often than not, I was stuck in “life” and not on her.

I then had a son, with more issues and trials than one could ever prepare for. He struggled to breathe, and learn and survive. Small everyday things challenged him in ways that were unfathomable. He was the cutest little thing, with the biggest smile and sweetest countenance, but man, was he a lot of work.

I never made a single solitary jar of baby food, I nursed them both for about 6 weeks and quit because I hated it. We tried crafts, but they both despised being dirty so that always ended in screaming. I became the Mom that loved her kids beyond measure, but one that purchased every single solitary thing from a store. I guided them and protected them and taught them how incredibly fabulous they were, but we didn’t go on nature walks or did all that much frolicking in the wilderness.

I absolutely hated myself some days and couldn’t believe how incompetent I was in many areas. I had become pretty much opposite to all that I had envisioned. I was SO not June Cleaver or even one of her long distant cousins.  Once again, my vision had set me up for failure.

Looking back now, I do know this, I raised some UNBELIEVEABLY AWESOME children. Someway, somehow, I did the right things in spite of myself, and this crazy dreamer head of mine. 30 children later, I get it. I know what’s important and what doesn’t matter. My vision was wrong, and was in no way “me”. That’s where I got lost…I was trying to create a story that belonged to someone else.

Life is a weird thing sometimes, we paint a picture and then get stuck somewhere outside of it. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t limit where you and where your path may go. Don’t set a standard that is unattainable. Don’t put unreasonable expectations on yourself or your children or your spouse. Don’t get caught up in the world’s version of perfect life, perfect wife and perfect children. That’s all crap and it doesn’t exist. Do not wait for something else, or another time or place to make you feel complete. Don’t judge yourself based on someone else’s standards.

Instead, Breathe. Enjoy the moments that you’re in, no matter how big the struggle may seem. If you can’t provide the “best” of everything, let it go. Who decided what the best stuff was anyways? If you need to run away or cry sometimes, that’s okay. If you feel like today was a complete failure, remember that there is always tomorrow. If you find yourself standing there wondering where it all went wrong, start again. Listen to your heart and find your way out to something better.

Paint yourself a new picture of “perfect” and trust in that. For me, that means happy faces running amuck and becoming people of character. They have the best of nothing, but have everything at the same time. It’s hissy fits and belly laughs. It’s unmatched socks and extra TV time. It’s unbalanced meals, unbrushed hair and a sink full of dirty laundry. It’s a husband and wife that love each other more today than they did yesterday. It is leaving this world a better place.

Let it go, and just be the best YOU that you can be. I hope you find your happy place.

charliebrown

Just a Mom.

I was 20 years old when I met my future husband. I had never lived by myself or with friends, and in fact, still lived with my parents. I’d never attended college or been anywhere farther east than Saskatchewan. I was a daughter and a sister, and most certainly not even considering becoming a mother.  Almost exactly one year later, I married my best friend. I was now a wife.

We moved to a new city, 5 hours away from everything I knew. I had no friends, no job and no idea what I was going to “be when I grew up”. I can remember the quietness of my new house and it made me insane. I had left a household of 8 people and had become a family of 2. I had to leave the TV on all the time just so I could have background noise and didn’t have to talk to myself. I was young and in love, a little unsure of myself and kinda lost, but I was happy. And then I was a Mom.

I fell madly in love with this little person. She filled my days with joy, smiles and giggles. She made my nights sleepless and seemingly never-ending. She made me happy and I was so proud to call her mine. As she grew and my life changed, something inside of me was awakening. I was surrounded by children, some mine, and some that were loaned to me to parent. I was still happily married to a very good man. I had a very good life, but something was missing.

I can remember sitting there and thinking about all of the things that I hadn’t done in my life. I hadn’t lived on my own. I’d never gone to school. I’d never gone off to see the world and experience fun and exciting things. I had never just been “me”, as in me, myself and I. I had become someone else. I was Just. A. Mom.

For some reason that terrified me. Was that all I was ever going to be? Would that be the only thing people remembered me for? Why wasn’t that good enough? Why did I “need” to be more than that? Suddenly I was questioning everything about myself and all that I knew, and then, I woke up.

Yes, I am a Mother, but I most certainly am not “Just a Mom”.

I am responsible for helping little people become all that they think they can be, and then a little bit more. I am quite possibly raising a future world leader. I am teaching my children about equality and respect and grace. I am showing them that nobody is better than anyone else. I am giving them the confidence to stand up for themselves and the people around them. I am lifting them up when the world beats them down. I am rescuing children from horrible circumstances and giving them a brighter future. I am making promises to love them and support them in whatever they choose to do or wherever they choose to go. I am preparing them for the hard decisions that they will have to make. I am giving them my words when they don’t have their own. I am molding and shaping the gifts that God gave me. I am changing the world.

I have the hardest, scariest, toughest, most exciting, fun and fulfilling job ever. I get no pay, no vacation or sick days. I have many awesome days and just as many horrible ones. I witness life changing moments. I am unconditonally loved even when I don’t always deserve it. I get to laugh and cry and tell stupid jokes.  I have been blessed with something that many women will never get the joy of experiencing. Who am I to question the value of what I do? I am a very blessed woman and a darn good Mom.

So, to all the “Just a Moms”, the Mom’s to be and the Mom’s that want nothing more than just have the opportunity to try. Never, ever doubt your worth. Never, ever question your role and the importance that it carries. Never look back and question “what if”? You are exactly where you’re supposed to be, cherish it and enjoy the ride. Happy Mothers Day to all of you!