Publix has these carts. If you don't know; Publix is a grocery store in my town (and others). My girls love these carts. They pretend they are driving. Then the cars are flying and they are pilots. Then they need to sing songs on the radio and make the groceries fly into the cart beneath the car.
I hate these carts. They are like trying to drive an 18 wheeler while texting with strong winds on a narrow road with a sharp curve ahead.
But, without fail, we always end up with one of these carts. It makes the girls happy ... and that way they are a bit quieter.
Today, I had to go to the store by myself.
I already have a bit of social anxiety. Crowds make me hyperventilate; it's that personal space bubble. Don't violate my bubble.
Today, I had to watch a time while shopping because I started picking up some Sunday shifts at work for overtime and I work in a lab so I stuck my samples in a put on a timer and took the kids to the grocery store. (ok, the work thing is a bit more involved, but hard to explain).
While pushing my girls in that enormous car-cart and chewing gum, I chomped down way to hard on my lip. It hurt. It bleed.
So now I'm trying to steer this stupid car-cart, chewing blood, watching the time on my timer, marking items off of a list that is not in order of aisles at the store when I took a turn not sharp enough and ran straight into a display of mugs and coffee.
A few mugs crashed and broke. I froze. Leah told me I shouldn't run into mugs. Then she told me they broke and I made a mess. Audrey told me 'uh oh.'
While the seconds slowed down and I stared at the broken pieces, a Publix employee rushed to help me. *sigh* I thanked him and tried to hand him a broken piece that was stuck under my cart when he told me in a gruff and irritated voice, 'just don't touch it, please.'
The please didn't help, dude.
And I lost it. I actually kept it in. I only cried a little. I could've wept. But I did cry.
While walking down the cracker aisle, surrounded by Goldfish and Cheezit's; tears crept down my cheeks and I toke deep breaths trying to keep it in.
The girls feel asleep in the car on the way back to work. I watched them sleep and the anxiety, the huge car-carts, the mugs breaking, the irritated employee, the small tears, are all for them. And as they sleep, chests rising slowly, breathe easy, it makes sense. I remember how very much I love them.
Sometimes you just have those days where you need to shed a few tears in Publix.
Maybe I had too high expectations heading into it. I was going to get back into my being at home routine ... going to the Y, cleaning, cooking, folding laundry, etc.
Instead I have had no motivation to go to the gym, I let the laundry pile up because the washing machine broke, and I've just wanted to sit all week. I have lost my patience everyday this week with both the girls and with Andrew. I have been hurtful and lazy, and overall it's just been a shitty week.
While I was thinking about this at work last night, my brain jumped to a seemingly random thought; "I need more quiet time with God."
It's hard to describe, but I could feel my brain fighting with and against this thought.
Before college, I was very close in my spiritual walk with God. I prayed constantly, and I felt a closeness with Him. Then in college I started drinking and became pregnant out of wedlock at 21, and a part of my faith died.
When I think about strengthening my walk with Christ, part of me feels like I'm too bad-ass for that. I cuss (in my head) now; I didn't then. I drink now; I didn't then. I'm more stressed out now, I'm more 'worldly'. It feels like the hole is too big to cross over to join back with that faith walk.
I don't know if there is anyone else feeling the same way. Perhaps it's only me. I was such a strong Christian, so true in my ways and understanding. I feel as if then I was tested, and I failed. I want to be back where I was. I want to once again feel the strength that comes from being close with my Savior.
I haven't abandoned any of my beliefs. I still pray with my girls every night and feel it is important to take them to church. I am still a Christian and a believer.
But it just makes me wonder ... can you be a bad-ass and still be close to Christ?
I looked over on my timeline and pulled up a post from January 2011 ultimately to remind myself that my word from 2011 was Growth.
Well, I think I have grown over 2011. Perhaps it's happening a bit slower than I had hoped, but 2011 was a great year for our family and for my relationship.
For 2012 my word is going to be MINE!
It's a word I hear every day.
every . single . day .
because I have a 4 year old tattletale and a 2 year old non-sharer.
"Mooooommmmmy, Audrey said miiinnneee."
Well, you know what, whining tattletales aside, I'm yelling MINE this year!
Hey stupid debt and bills stressing me out ... this money is MINE. Yeah, yeah I know everything needs to get paid, but I will do it on my time without being overwhelmed.
Hey lazy attitude keeping me from working out ... this body is MINE. I am going to work out, and go to the gym because this is the year I tackle my lack of willpower. Hear that fat? I'm coming after you too.
Clutter. You stupid clutter that makes me trip. Stupid piles that cause arguments between my husband and I. Guess what clutter ... this house is MINE. That's right, and I'm taking you down, packing you up and sending you to goodwill. Then I'm cleaning the floor hiding under you.
I have a good feeling about 2012. I have a good feeling that this is going to be a good year. It's going to be my year ... and my family or course.
I'm linking up with Mama Kat with her prompt 5.) Okay okay I have to ask…what are your New Year’s Resolutions for 2012 and/or how did 2011′s resolutions turn out?
In 2007 I was pregnant with Leah, depressed, and eating like a starving hippo. I gained a lot of weight, and I haven't really lost any of it.
I've been toying with the idea of losing weight for, oh, the last 4 years or so. It's a nice thought; the thought of being skinnier. I would usually toss it around in my head while eating chocolate and feeling sorry for myself over how fat I am.
And of course I'd complain to my soul mate about everything wrong with me.
Then one day, he came back with a zinger.
"I see on the debit card that you've been going to Taco Bell." he said.
'yeah yeah,' my mind said, 'so ... it tastes good.'
"You know," he continued oblivious of my voices, "every time you go to a fast food restaurant or eat something not healthy you are making the choice to accept your weight and stay fat."
That's how I have started on this journey of weight loss. To help with it, I am very excited to join At the Pink of Perfection's and My Vickilicious Life's quest to the blogger's biggest loser.
As a family we have decided to live the Paleo/Primal lifestyle. In a nutshell, that means we eat like cavemen (i.e. hunter/gathers). In the real world, that means we have given up mainly grains and pasta, refined sugars, beans, dairy, and focus on meats, good fats, and lots and lots of leafy veggies. If you want to know more I highly recommend Mark Sisson at Mark's Daily Apple.
Now, down to the nitty gritty.
Today I weigh
Yuck, right. Yuck.
By December 2012, I want to weigh 150 pounds.
So, to break this down in Zig Zigler / Dave Ramsey style:
December 2012 is about 11 months away which is about 48 weeks.
I want to lose 87.4 (88) pounds in 48 weeks.
That comes out to 1.8 pounds a week.
Round that up, and my goal is to lose 2 pounds a week.
Get that people?
2 pounds a week!
So totally do-able.
So, thanks to At the Pink of Perfection and My Vickilicious Life. I will be here every other Tuesday updating on my weight loss journey. On the other Tuesdays, I will be posting about my journey with the Primal diet. So follow me, check out Mark, decide to live primal, and come back on the off Tuesdays to talk with me about it.
You know, if you want to. :-p
p.s. if your wondering about my scale, I use the industrial super scale at work ... because that's how I roll, yo.