May 29, 2015

Roses and thorns

The best thing about this week is that it's over. After our awesome first week, both Noah and I had some challenges this week - emotions were all over the place. I'm proud of myself for not binge eating even in moments when I know, in the past, that would have been so comforting. I ate well, I worked out every day, I drank plenty of water. And ...

... I maintained.

Not going to lie, I was a bit crushed when I saw the scale. I knew I couldn't have lost much - it didn't feel like I had lost anything. But still ... nothing?!

Repeat after me: right now, maintaining is a victory. After the stressful week I had, being able to say I didn't binge is a better feeling than being able to record a loss. Plus, this happens. A huge loss, then no loss, then my body catches up to itself and we carry on. This, thankfully, is not a trigger.

Spur of the moment, I decided to take Noah and drive up to Connecticut to see my family. It's conflicting, because in the past I have struggled a lot with my eating while I was there ... but I was also not in the situation I am currently in. Being there with my ex-husband was triggering. Right now, my only goal is health. And visiting them is something I need - for my mental health.

Some ways to stay on track while I am there: my goal is to keep logging on MyFitnessPal (my mom has a food scale, and my sister cooks very healthy meals for my dad, so I'm feeling confident), and to keep documenting meals and workouts on Instagram.

There isn't a gym for me to use in Connecticut, but I have a car and there are plenty of ways to stay active. There will be room in the trunk of the car for my jogging stroller, which I can take to the beach or to state parks.

My biggest worry about the trip, honestly, is the drive there. I got my license less than a year ago, and the drive involves going through Washington, D.C., the New Jersey Turnpike, and New York City. It's only a 12 hour drive, but my goal is to get through D.C. tomorrow and stay at a hotel in Maryland overnight, then do the second half of the trip on Sunday. I'm completely terrified, but the only way out of the fear is through it.

What about you? What NSVs did you have this week? Have you ever done a long car ride by yourself (or with a toddler!)? Any tips/tricks/advice?

P.S. I heard from a few people that they (a) weren't seeing the posts to the Page for the "Made to Crave" reading group and that (b) it wasn't a private forum so they weren't comfortable posting. So, I created a Private Group instead - no one except people in the group can see posts/activity. I scheduled the Page to self-destruct (my apologies to everyone who had Liked it!), so if anyone is still interested in the discussion group, here is a link to the Group:

May 26, 2015


The blissful ease of our new life seems to have come to a screeching halt this weekend. The honeymoon period is over, and we are settling into the realities of our situation.

For Noah, this meant finally realizing that Daddy isn't coming home, and it translated into a weekend full of tantrums, wanting to be held constantly, and last night - we were snuggling before bed, I had him in my arms, and he started crying and said "I miss Daddy." For all the things I don't like about my ex-husband, this has to be his worst offense: walking away from this sweet, loving little person and thinking that he is too young to be affected and too young to remember ... it's maddening.

For me, the difficulty of this weekend was sheer exhaustion. I keep trying to do too many things at once - clean the house, fix things we'd been postponing, go here, do this, make sure healthy dinners are on the table - and by the end of the day, I'm just wiped out. I know it's going to get worse before it gets better, and I'm trying to figure out how to balance my days so I'm not feeling completely depleted by bedtime.

On Saturday morning, we got up early to go to the park, only to find that last week's flat tire hadn't been fixed properly, so it was flat again. Our morning was spent instead at an auto shop getting tires replaced. The park was our plan for that day because it's free. The tires were now the second time I had to dip into my emergency fund in one week. (It's okay. That's why I have it. I just worry about what happens when it runs out, or if something really big happens.)

Then, Saturday night, my family sent me pictures of their various dinners - my sister out with her husband for his birthday, and my mother cooking up a feast of lobsters for her brother who was visiting from out of town. And I was exhausted, and I didn't want to cook at all, and I just cried. This sucks. But - even if Matthew was still here, I'd still have to cook. This is not an excuse, I told myself. And I made scrambled eggs and was in bed by 8:30.

But then the Monday holiday came around, and it was the apex of the weekend's stress. The most tantrums. The most frustration. And when dinner rolled around, I didn't want to cook again. I just wanted a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, no frills, and another early bedtime.

I pulled the ingredients out from the pantry, put them on the counter, and started to cry.

It's not Whole 30. If I eat this, I'm a failure. If I eat this, it's gonna snowball. I'll regain everything - again. I'm gonna be fat forever. I have no self-control. I'm so stupid, wanting a sandwich more than I want to wear my skinny clothes again. I'm such a failure.

The negative self-talk flooded my mind, and the tears turned into full-on sobbing at the kitchen counter.

Suddenly, I felt a little tug at my shirt and a hug around my leg.

Mama, I sorry.

And the tears didn't stop. Because my son thought he had done something wrong. He thought I was upset or mad at him. And I was crying about a stupid sandwich.

What kind of mother am I? What kind of relationship to food am I modeling for my son? Crying about what you can and cannot eat?

Obsession is a dangerous game.

I dried my tears, scooped him up, and gave him a big kiss and told him he didn't need to be sorry, Mama was not mad. And I handed him a plate with a few slices of bread, and he helped spread the peanut butter on our sandwiches. I gave him another big kiss and thanked him for being my wonderful helper, and we ate our sandwiches at the table with smiles.

This morning, I was right back to a paleo breakfast. I am writing now, then getting back into the gym. This afternoon, I'll cook up a few meals to keep on hand for when I'm tired and not wanting to cook.

It's been a week since our family dynamic changed drastically, I need to allow myself to have days when a sandwich is a good enough dinner. I'm trying to curb the negative voice in my head, reminding me that people in even more difficult situations can stick to eating plans regardless of their circumstances.

Their circumstances are not mine.

This is me, doing the best I can.

And some nights, that means peanut butter and jelly.