Well here we are part way through day 3. It’s going well. I’m feeling so much more lively and much more happy. I woke up this morning even though I’m not at the bounding out of bed stage yet (it will come) I hauled myself up and had a little reflection. I wanted to think of one thing to be proud of, something I’d achieved already after just 2 whole days and to spur me on through day 3.
- I had not touched my box of Rennie indigestion and heart burn tablets that are an essential bedside item and used at least twice during the night… not anymore 🙂
- my head felt clear and fresh, I couldn’t remember a dream, I couldn’t remember being restless in the night and I realised I must have slept really well
- my mouth didn’t feel furry, I doubtless had morning breath but I didn’t have a fat layer coating my mouth from a late night choc fest and then being too lazy to brush my teeth again before bed (I know it’s gross and I’m ashamed but it’s changing and I’m being honest so that I can understand myself)
I felt good. I knew today was my first day of the 100 days challenge and I felt ready for that. I had a plan for my day’s food in my mind and was looking forward to constructing my meals and putting some effort into developing textures and flavours.
I resolved to take a few moments each morning to sit on the side of my bed and think about the benefits I was already feeling to start me off positively. To encourage me with what had already happened and make me mindful of what could be added to the list the next day.
I went to the bathroom, performed my morning routine and then decided to clean the family bathroom from top to bottom. This is a task which my daughter normally performs because bending to pick up the bits that didn’t make the bin (especially those cotton buds that fall between the tiles and abandoned bobby pins that find their way everywhere) usually leaves me dizzy and breathless.
I discarded all of the empty bottles and cleaned every surface, replenished supplies, opened the blinds, opened the windows, bent down and picked up every last thing from the floor then washed it. Instead of getting a mop I made myself bend and clean with a cloth, bending, rinsing, bending, rinsing. Sweating, heat racing, head feeling light, but I did it. I cleared out the laundry, replaced all the towels with fresh ones. Then I stood in the doorway and admired my work.
I nearly cried. This sounds so stupid, but I remembered the days when doing this quickly before work was just routine and I felt sad that it had now become a chore in every sense of the word. I was ashamed that I let my home go unattended and that I make my children do the jobs I should be doing or at least sharing in doing. I hate that I’m not the mother I should be and that homemaking has become something that is neglected. I used to be so proud of my proficiency in the home.
Just standing looking at my gleaming bathroom made me feel a sense of that pride again and made me want more of it. I extended my housework blitz onto the landings, picking up and tidying things away. Next I carried the heavy laundry basket down stairs, my daughter rushed out of her room horrified at the sight of me carrying the heavy basket down stairs and said she would take it, I told her “No, I’m doing it, I want to do it”. She stood aside and watched me with a worried look on her face. Jeez, has it come to this that my kids think they need to worry because I’m carrying a laundry basket? What have I done to myself?
I hauled it through to the kitchen and I set to doing the laundry. My kids followed me almost in awe that I was doing things by myself. I’m crying typing this because it’s so sad that my kids are amazed to see their mum clean a bathroom and carry some laundry down the stairs, but this is how bad it is, this is what I have allowed happen and yes I’m ashamed and I’m glad I’m ashamed because I will not let it happen again.
At the same time though (I want to gain positives from the negatives, I don’t want to beat myself to a fat pulp who wants to eat pies and chocolate, I need to think of the good too) I am proud, so proud that my kids have picked up the pieces. They have coped with all of the causes and effects of my obesity, the emotional and psychological ones, the motivational ones the ones no one else sees and they don’t have to do it any more. I’m going to make us the family we used to be, I’m going to be the mum they deserve. I don’t want to see their beautiful brown eyes wide with wonder at mum doing the laundry or filled with concern at mum carrying a laundry basket. It hurt and I want to remember that hurt and if I ever forget I’m coming back to day 3 of my blog to remind myself.
When the first load was in and the drier had been emptied from last night I started to make breakfast. We all chatted as we each prepared a nice healthy breakfast. I had porridge and dried fruits with a banana and a pint of boiled water infused with the juice of a freshly squeezed lemon. The kids followed my lead and one prepared herself a fruit smoothie while the son made himself a bowl of wholegrain cereal and took a big orange to chomp on. They each poured a big glass of water.
We felt like a normal family again. Ain’t that something to reflect on when I’m sitting on my bed on the morning of day 4?