The Aftermath

Your body is a car. That's what I tell my girls. They have to keep it in good shape and fill it with good fuel. You can see the metaphors here.

It's a vehicle that carries us through life.

It's what we were given. The only ones we were given. There are some things we can control, and some we cannot. We must take care of it always or we will have no way to navigate through this life...this wonderful, amazing life. What you put in is what determines how you run. I take pride in the fact that the girls want to look "athletic" and "healthy." They see people that make bad choices and ask questions. I answer the best I can. They have some insecurities about their bodies and it's natural. Lily thinks she is too short and Abby thinks she has big feet. "There are some things we cannot control and be thankful that you can date short and tall guys, and be thankful that stores will probably always have your size shoe," I say. I get eye rolling. I would expect nothing less.

I have got to get myself back to this simple thought. I used to eat pretty clean. I used to exercise a lot. I took good, good care of myself. Since I went back to work full time I have slacked in all areas. I have let it all go since getting pregnant in January 2012, and again in August  2012. I want to look healthy and athletic. Not perfect. I want to feel good all the time. I want that boost of energy.

I saw the ad the woman put on Facebook that said "What's Your Excuse?" and I didn't think she was a bully. I didn't think it was inappropriate. It made me THINK...STOP WITH THE EXCUSES!!! She looked beautiful.

She works hard to look like that both in the gym and in her kitchen. My excuses are valid. I have 3 beautiful children that morphed my tight little abs into a mush of jello. I work. I have issues getting to the gym in the morning mainly because of Henry or work stuff. BUT...I am making the choice to continue letting my workout be the thing that is always postponed. I make the choice to eat ice cream and burgers and fajitas and wings, regularly. I am on the cusp of stopping these choices. I am RIGHT THERE. So, I am putting myself out there so that I need to it...and I have the support I need to do it. The accountability.

There will always be an excuse: work, kids, diabetes kept me up, running late so I'll grab fast food. I need to get my ass in gear and there is no better day than Halloween.

Wish me luck!

A Time To Reflect...

I left my 30's yesterday. Forever. It kind of sneaked up on me. It's funny...birthdays don't mean the whole world to me anymore.

So much has happened in the last few years that have led me to really take a look inside myself. I have been in an exploratory mode for a while now. I am learning. I am a work in progress. I appreciate that. I invite that. I am finally able to listen to myself and trust myself. I have always had good instincts but could talk myself out of what I knew was right, time and time again.

I watch friends and family going through huge life changes right now and I feel for them. Any sort of big change or big decision is wearing. I think it ages you more than actual years do. The back and forth in your head, the mind games you play with yourself...it's exhausting. I have been there and done that and now I am learning how to manage myself. That's what happens at 40, you evolve into the real adulthood.

I feel wiser. I feel stronger. I feel more secure. I feel more confident. I am happy with my life. I am happy with my decisions. I don't have regrets. I don't do things to make me regret them because I have learned how to live an honest and fulfilling life, for my children, my husband, and myself. I am not as selfish as I used to be and I have a low tolerance for others that are selfish.

I am still faced with some hard disappointments and acceptance of those disappointments. I am still learning who my friends really are. I have FINALLY grasped the concept my parents taught me at 5 years old, "Choose your friends wisely." I have discovered that my friendships have evolved as well. We don't see each other as much. We are with our young families. We treasure every minute we have with them. I am also realizing that I need some distance from some friendships. My time is valuable. I do not pass judgement. But I have strong moral values and those will remain in tact. My dear friend out of state, LP, helped teach me this...if it isn't a positive friendship for your marriage and the way you live your life, move on.

I have placed myself in a position to be happy. That was a choice. It was not luck and it was not by accident. I made sound decisions to make my world a better place and in turn, my children have a better world. I am responsible for their memories. For their molding. That is not something I take lightly. They view the world through my eyes right now and it better be a nice picture. This is not something I could have realized ten years ago.

So, I think 40 will be good. It will be more relaxing and more enjoyment of what I have in front of me. I will always reflect and grow because I enjoy that. I like to challenge myself and question myself and continue to be a work in progress. I will continue to seek a positive environment. I might even give meditation a chance, thanks to my wonderful brother-in-law. It might help me make more sense of the chatter that goes on inside my very busy head.

Forty is great. I have one day of experience and I'm doing pretty damn good so far. I look forward to what the year has in store for me.

Six Wonderful and Amazing and Emotional Years...

Right before diagnosis, October 2007

To my hero...my beautiful, vibrant, hilarious, 9-year-old daughter Lilyboo,

For six years now I have watched you grow into a little lady. A seemingly perfect blend of maturity and innocence. I have woken up to your beautiful face smiling at me. Whether you are rolling around sideways in your bed with your hair all messed up, or you are running full speed into my bedroom at 7 AM, you are there.

Alive. Breathing. Growing. Living. Being a kid, my kid. My hero.

You are almost 10 so it may seem weird that I have said "For six years now." I wasn't so sure this would happen when you were 3 and we found out you had Type 1 Diabetes. Every horrible thought that a mother should never think, I had. Every ounce of worry that you wouldn't wake...it was there. It still is sometimes.

Sometimes I look at you and with no reason whatsoever, I tear up. It's so hard to take in...the severity of it all. The beauty in being your mother. The amazing little person you have become. You think I'm nuts pretty much all the time because of these tears. It embarrasses you but you still smile, and blush, and feel very, very loved. The thought of not having you is too much so I don't think about it often. If I did, I couldn't live.

You are going to finish 4th grade at the top of your class, as you always do. You are going to start really liking boys soon (God help us all). You are going to want to stay alone in the house after school one day in the next few years. You are going to babysit Henry. You are going to learn to drive...and go to school dances, and hold someone's hand. You are going to go to college one day. And I am going to cry even harder when you do. You will get married and wear your namesake's beautiful watch and carry her handkerchief down the aisle on your daddy's arm. You will have beautiful children and love them like I love you. You will cry too. A lot. You are so much like me. We are two peas in a pod. You will do all of this despite your disease.

Today, we celebrate six years of your living.

I love you so much Lilyboo. I am so thankful for every breath you take. I am so proud that you don't let diabetes dictate who you are. Or Celiac for that matter. You have come so far in six years...we all have. We will never stop fighting and we will all remove our tattoos when you are cured. I believe that and so do you...it will happen. Until then, keep living my precious, beautiful baby.

Love,

Mommy