Going Pro

I lie in bed with my eyes closed until I hear the screaming for breakfast pitter-patter of little feet, hoping - usually in vain - that Boys 1 and 2 will sleep past 7am. One of my favorite things to do is stay in bed - not necessarily sleeping, although that's nice, of course.  I just love to lie there enjoying the soft bed and the warmth beneath the covers and ease into my day. Mornings are hard for me. I tend to stay up way too late and that makes mornings torturous.

See, for Boys 1 and 2, there is no easing into the day. They are up and running (and jumping and yelling and screeching and stomping) from the minute their eyes are open. They are also hungry the minute they wake up. I know mornings would go more smoothly if I got up earlier than they and got a shower and dressed and ready and had breakfast started. But it is so much easier to be reactive. By that I mean that I wait until something happens and then react. It's all fine and good to give it a name, but it's laziness, plain and simple.

I keep trying to organize myself -

                pull myself up by the bootstraps, 

                                     take the bull by the horns, 

                                                        put on my big-girl panties - you know what I mean. 

What it all comes down to, is that I have to decide how I live my life. I can be pro-active. I can live my life with purpose - choose how I want it to be. I can choose to feel good about how I feed my body. I can choose to go to the gym, even when it's embarrassing, and use my body the way it's meant to be used.  I can choose to do what it takes - physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

Or not.

There are so many things that I don't get to choose in this life, but the way I live mine, and the way I feel about it, is totally up to me.

But living pro-actively can be exhausting. It takes a lot of planning. It takes a lot of preparation. Schedules must be coordinated. Emotions must be examined. Groceries must be shopped. Calories and steps must be counted. And when you are a parent, it's multiplied.

I feel like I'm banging my head against the wall as I wail and I whine, "I can't eat that!"  or, "Wah! Wah! I can't eat until it is so uncomfortable that it is hard to sit up, yet still I want more."  Who really wants that? It's not about what I can't have any more. I can't kick and scream about having no more potato chips and expect to live in a positive way.

This week, instead of dwelling on what  I "can't" eat, I will focus on the healthy food that I choose to eat. 

This week, I will move more and whine less.

This week, I will live according to my plan - and not resent it.