Max Saves the Day

I want to wake up tomorrow 15 pounds lighter.  I'd totally settle for 10.  Is that took much to ask?

My level of stress is easily manifested by how I eat and I classify it in two stages.

  Normally, I'm...normal.  I mean, I eat fairly well. I try not to eat too much, I try to eat minimal amounts of sugar and wheat since they seem to cause me the most trouble.  Generally, I function in a socially appropriate way (in regards to eating, that is).

Stress Level 1, where I presently find myself, is when significant stress comes along and I move from socially appropriate to garbage disposal.  I eat anything and everything regardless of whether I really want it, whether its worth the calories, or the sick way it's going to make me feel later.  It's times like these, that I am very, very glad I don't drink alcohol.  Right now, I just feel sick and can't fit in my clothes, but things could be worse right?

Stress Level 2 is when the stress escalates enough that I can't eat at all.

So I guess the bright side of all of this is that while I am totally ridiculous right now, I'm technically only moderately stressed, not an alcoholic, and still have an appetite.

The bad part is, I hate the way I feel, I hate the way I look, and I hate my closet and everything in it.

I waved Max off to preschool this morning in my old, worn out, crotchless yoga pants, faded tshirt, and sweatshirt jacket.

I took a two hour nap when the baby did.  Between the 12-14 hour days/6-7 days a week of Dan's work, plus Halloween, plus Young Women in Excellence and all it entails, plus organizing play group parties, driving carpool, endless ear infections, planning lessons, having four kids, worrying about our future, and life in general, we're kind of exhausted over here. Today was the first day in a couple of weeks to actually sit down (or in my case, lie down).

When I got up, I put on real clothes.  Real, nice clothes.  And I hated how I looked.  But the baby was crying and I had to run a few errands before picking up Max from preschool.  So I went on my way, dressed, but feeling bad and ugly.


When Max walked out of his classroom and saw me, his eyes literally shone.

"Mo-om!" he smiled.

"You look fantastic!"

"I love your red dress!"

And as we walked down the hall towards the car holding hands, He looked up to my face and said,

"I just love you.  You're my Mommy."

And for a moment I forgot every annoying thing he's ever done.

  For a moment, I felt pretty.

 My kids are changing me, shaping me, stretching me, and today, encouraging me.

Max reminded me that I am a mommy; a hard working, hard loving mommy.

Max reminded me today, that in the grand scheme of things, the woman I want to be, the one they are helping me become, is the kind who doesn't need to go around feeling bad about herself.