After we lost Nana, I spent a LOT of time with my own Mom. I felt it necessary to soak up time with her while dealing with the loss of both our special person and her friend. We drank a lot of coffee, cried a lot of tears, and talked through our pain. I know she has never seen herself the way I see her, but she is beautiful inside and out. She is and always has been a blessing. Our times together help me so much. I noticed at our house that everyone kind of did their own thing. The boys were finishing their school year, Steve was finishing baseball season and the end of the year, and I was trying to get 21 4th graders out the door onto their next adventure, and I just wanted my Mom. We had no choice, but to immediately move forward.
In the months that followed Sue's diagnosis, we all coped in different ways. I think anyone who has ever read this blog knows that eating (cookie dough NOT excluded) is part of how I cope. I slept a lot. I ate when I felt upset. I stopped attending any workout classes and really didn't care. I decided that in the fight of Nana's life, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do. I can remember thinking...what does it matter anyway?
After losing her and laying her to rest, I realized what it mattered. As I looked back over the past five months, I knew how my careless lifestyle was affecting my ability to deal with life as it continued to come. I won't criticize any of us for the way we dealt with or are still dealing with our loss. If food brought me comfort in those dark moments, then so be it. What is a struggle for me now is trying to get myself back into a physical shape that feels healthy. No one ever gets to tell you how to handle the curves life throws at you. And one of the hardest parts of being a parent is that you feel every curve life throws at your children. This is the same thing with being a spouse. When you love someone the way God intends us to do, you feel their pain. Not just in a sympathetic way either. You truly feel it. I felt the loss of Nana times five. My parents felt the loss times six. But-it is in those people who feel the loss in a greater way, that we eventually find our peace. Our "people" help us carry that load until we are strong enough to carry it alone.
In the past week, I've been doing a cleanse. It's a diet-who am I kidding? No-it's called a challenge. Why am I telling you this? Hold on-I'll get there.
I've been eating very little food, drinking shakes, and taking supplements to help boost my metabolism. Every time I get on the scale, I want to scream at it. Do you know what I've been dealing with? Do you know how hungry I am? Why won't you go down?
Diet-cleanse-challenging is SO EXHAUSTING. I just want cream in my coffee and a plate of sugar cookies. Why can't I have that and the scale go DOWN instead of up? The truth is that I found peace in eating and in moments of quiet when nothing else in my life was calm.
Two days ago, I took my middle to eat lunch while his stereo was being installed. We sat down to lunch at one of our favorite places and I was searching the menu for a low carb, low calorie, low taste option. I settled on a taco and six chips. Yep-you read that right. SIX CHIPS. As I sat there listening to what he had to say about life, it occurred to me that meal time is somewhere that we connect. I stopped worrying about the carbs and calories and started soaking up the moments of our conversation. The food wasn't where I found my comfort. It was in the moments of being together with him. I ate more chips.
Yesterday, we all went to lunch together. This doesn't happen very often because everyone has a busy summer agenda. Two of the three are teenagers so we rarely get them to ourselves. Again, we ate. We ate and I enjoyed every minute of the boys and their conversations.
I was fine until Big and I went swimsuit shopping. Man-if you've ever had a body you don't love and sat in a dressing room chastising yourself for your poor food choices after trying on 75 different suits and end up with no suit, but a new cover up and a large pair of earrings...punch in. Swimsuit shopping is the worst. Followed closely by jeans shopping. Why does it have to be so hard?
Anyway-we went shopping. He offered to help me and I had no idea how much help he'd be. He came with me and gave me a new perspective on this frustrating body of mine. I'm not where I'd like to be on the scale. But he doesn't see me that way at all. He sees my imperfections...I mean, they are pretty obvious in a swimsuit. AND...I was quick to remind him that ultimately, the body was his fault because I had him first and there wasn't any going back from that pregnancy. BUT...I came out in swimsuit after swimsuit waiting for him to react and he never did. He was honest. He was sweet. He said things I never would have thought about because I see myself so differently. What we picked out in the end was something I could live with and he liked because of the "color scheme". No kidding...he totally said that. I've never left swimsuit shopping feeling better about myself. I didn't feel sad or totally defeated. I felt confident that I'm too hard on myself and that my children see me in a completely different light. Suddenly I felt okay with who I am at this very moment. I realized that we aren't promised another minute of this life and that I'm so blessed to be here in this very body.
I'll still try to watch my eating. I'm working out in a way that I love. I am trying to be healthy because that is when I feel better about myself. But I will not skip meals with my kids. I will not miss opportunities to be with them because of my insecurities.
It occurred to me in our moments of deep conversations, that they need me like I need my Mom. Never have I ever sat in conversation with my Mom and thought...man, she needs to work out more. Or-I wish she'd not eat so much. She's absolutely beautiful-inside and out. The boys don't see me like that either. They love me for exactly who I am. Unconditionally. Not because I can rock a swimsuit or a sweet pair of blinged out jeans, but because of who I am.
The truth is-I wish I had a pre-baby bikini body. Some people are lucky enough to get to keep those their whole lives and should rock that bikini that didn't quite work out for me yesterday. Some of us don't have that body, but realize in the strangest moments that they wouldn't trade what they have for anything in the world. Without this body, I wouldn't have my kids. I wouldn't have the life I have. I wouldn't have the peace I'm finding after loss. I guess the shorts and tank top suit will do just fine.
Thank you Jesus-for the perspective, for my life, and for your love.
Have a Blessed Day-
Referee of 3
