January 18, 2018

Magic

My ex-mother-in-law turned 60 in December, as did most of her girlfriends this past year. Each one, in turn, did a "bucket list" trip somewhere, either with their spouse, their families, or with the group of friends. When it came time for Barb to choose, she wanted something for her whole family - a trip to Disney World in Florida. She told us the idea, and six weeks later, there we were.

I'd been hoping to take Noah to Disney World for his birthday in May, figuring he'd be turning 5 and it would be the last birthday when we could go on a big trip for a few days, since he'll be starting kindergarten in the fall, so in the future, his birthday will be within the school year.

(I know, I don't know where the last four and a half years went, either. I blinked and my baby turned into a big kid.)

I'd also been hoping I'd have five or six more months to keep working on myself. We're 16 weeks into Weight Watchers and I'm down just over 20 pounds - another 16 or 20 weeks wouldn't put me at my goal, but I'd be at least a little trimmer, a little more confident. The last time I'd gone to Disney ... about 2007 or so ... I was about the same size as I am now, maybe a bit smaller even, and I was absolutely exhausted, aching and looking for every possible place to sit and rest.

I worried about the trip even more than I worried about heading to Connecticut for Christmas. The worst I could envision en route to Connecticut was needing a seatbelt extender on the plane (I did). But Florida ... but Disney ...

Not fitting on rides was not my main concern. What I worried about most was what I always worry about: my son.

I worried that he would be slowed down because of me.

I worried that he would be held back because of me.

I worried that he would miss out because of me.

I have always wanted to be a mom. But I never wanted to be a big mom. I never wanted my son to suffer or go without or experience any negativity because of my personal struggles.


I love that little boy so much. He's my entire world. His father visits fewer than three weeks a year and I still miss him so much when we're apart for those few days. He's why I do everything - he's why I do anything. He's why I want to be healthy - so I can spend even more time with him.

As it turned out, Disney was ... kind of amazing, actually. I'm not at my goal weight, but I've been going to the gym regularly for 16 weeks, and I was able to walk 20K+ steps a day with no problem. I was able to fit on every ride - and surprisingly easily, I might add. I didn't even need a seatbelt extender on the flights either (although that's not much, those are like jeans - every store and every airline fit differently).

Noah went on rides - with me, even. And I was able to keep up with him for the few days we were there.

It's not where I want to end up, but I know I am on the right path. The numeric loss is small and slow, but it's healthy progress nonetheless.

2 comments:

Frickin' Fabulous at 40 said...

SO happy you had such a wonderful trip with Noah!!

That Loud Redhead said...

So happy you had a great experience!