Mid-way progress report

When New Year's rolled around this year, I, like more than half of the world, made the decision to lose weight. Maybe I have been saying this every year since, I dunno, the fifth grade, so clearly my issues with my weight are nothing new.

But this year, as opposed to my previous years of mothering, I feel really and truly well-rested. By January, my "baby" was already 19 months old and had been sleeping through the night for more than a half a year. That meant I was finally catching up with my sleep deficit. It turns out, a lot of my challenges related to my physical and mental health are directly tied to how well I'm sleeping. That perhaps seems self-evident, but the difference I felt confirmed that in a whole new way.

So I unceremoniously signed up for Myfitnesspal and began tracking calories, knowing that Weight Watchers had worked for me in the past. I also knew that cutting out "problem" foods (like sugar) has landed me face-first in a box of Double Chocolate Milanos that miraculously became empty under my watch. I couldn't even recall enjoying them. So accountability is key for me.

And I proceeded to see some success. 16 pounds so far, to be precise.
To illustrate, here I am in March of 2017.

I was writing a Day in the Life post and thought it would be nice to include a picture of myself as I went about my day, with the Good Camera, no less. After I took it, I took a startled deep breath after seeing my own face on the camera's screen.

And promptly opted against adding said selfie to said blog post.

(Yes I know you've seen this picture already, but I don't have a more recent one stored on the computer.)

Here I am in February of 2018. It's not just a more flattering angle, I simply have finally lost some weight (and I actually don't know how much I've lost since that first photo was taken; back then I was strategically avoiding weighing myself). 

I have more I want and need to lose (not for a "numbers" goal exactly, but I know exactly when I feel my most energetic, and it's about 20 pounds from *here*.)

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Now why am I blogging about this? Well, two reasons.

One is somewhat vain. I was feeling discouraged because the first fifteen pounds were easy-peasy to lose, and now more effort is involved in this process. It seems like I am making no progress lately. So I decided to revisit these old photos and realize that yes, indeed, I have made noticeable changes and I have to celebrate the effort I've put in thus far, and remember that the subsequent buckling down will be so worth it.

Also, I wanted to say that even though I was startled when I saw my own face back a year ago, I look at that photo so fondly. I am so proud of myself for putting in the hard work of looking after four young kids, one of whom was only 9 months old. Those days were tiring but so beautiful. 

I may have felt like I needed to put my own health on the back-burner then -- I just simply didn't have the bandwidth to think out things like calorie-counting, and had little free time to squeeze in exercise classes -- but things have calmed down a little in our house since then and I have been able to prioritize getting in better shape. My long-term goal is to be an energetic grandmother, should my own kids be called to have families themselves; I just really want to crawl around the floor with babies for the rest of my life, long after my own babies are grown, and I know that requires making healthy and life-giving choices right now.

I also want to say, I have no animosity towards myself or the way I looked 15 or 20 pounds ago. Nor do I romanticize back a few years ago when I was wearing a size 6. It's still me at each stage and I manage my health as best as I am able given my circumstances at that point.

I remember buying some leggings when Elijah was a young baby, and telling the saleslady, I have four kids, so I've resigned myself to wearing elastic waists forever. I was trying to make a joke, but as I said it, a wave of sorrow swept over me; I felt trapped by my own self-fulfilling prophecy.

I wasn't, though. If cauliflower can somehow become "pizza," then anything is possible, including me curbing emotional eating and being that energetic grandma I want to be (but not for a while yet, please! Noah is only nine!).