It’s 7:00 am. I’ve been hitting the snooze bar for an hour. It’s still dark outside, and it’s raining. I have three sleeping children, yet I am awake. My daughter is not yet old enough to be required by law to attend school. Tell me again why she’s going?
I really do. I have been super focused on my diet and exercise for the past couple of weeks. I have been using fitday.com to keep track of what I eat. It records my calorie intake, my fat intake, fiber, etc. It is the most helpful thing I have found to aid me in my weight loss. It might not work for everyone, but it is definitely working for me. It gives me the reassurance that I am getting the nutrients and everything that I need while I am dieting, since I am also breastfeeding. I have been trying to keep my diet around 1200 calories a day, and I have been working out most every day. I have been doing pilates, walking, and doing 200 crunches a day. I haven’t lost much in pounds, but my clothes are definitely fitting better. I have lost a couple of inches in the past couple of weeks. The pounds will follow, I think.
Instead of buying a lot of “diet” foods, I’ve been trying to just eat healthy foods. Lots of fresh vegetables and fruits. The healthier I eat, the healthier the kids eat, too. That is an added benefit. We already ate pretty healthy. I’m just trying to eat less of it, and more fresh stuff.
I feel really good about all of this. My main goal right now is obviously to lose weight and get back to where I was before I got pregnant with Owen, but just living a healthy lifestyle is really important to me. I’ve had a lot of hang-ups about weight and my eating habits in the past, and I don’t want my daughter to have to deal with that when she is older. I feel like if I am modeling healthy eating and living, she will naturally pick up on it. I’ve been making an effort to be more active, and I know that will benefit my kids…both Kyra and the boys. I’m thinking about taking up tennis. It might be a little bit, as Owen is a little bit young still. It’s hard to get out and do things that I can’t do while holding or carrying him, without a babysitter. I don’t like to leave him yet, as young as he is, though, so I’m just working with the time and freedom that I have now. I fully intend to add activities that we can all do together as time goes on.
Every little step I take to being healthier and modeling healthy behavior for my kids makes me feel really good. I just feel good today. Sweaty…but good.
I am from a gravel road that leads to the mountain, from the falling down mailbox, from Mayfield ice cream and macaroni and tomatoes.
I am from the house full of kids…loud, noisy, messy, and fun.
I am from the blackberry bushes and yellow jacket nests, the creek in the woods where we played and splashed and lived a thousand kid adventures.
I am from potlucks at Christmas and losing their temper, from Mamaws and Papaws and Mom and Dad. From shirtless boys with buzzed hair and bare feet.
I am from the shortest in the class and crooked teeth and freckles. Campfires and bluegill. Spankings and tears. From sucking my thumb will make it fall off and coffee will stunt my growth.
I am from washed in the blood Baptists. From Wednesday night services, week-long revivals, and Sunday School. From “Jesus Loves Me”, stolen money in the offering plate, turn around and stand up straight.
I’m from the woods of East Tennessee, boiled okra and watermelon with salt. From the man who prayed for a wife who could cook. A baker’s dozen of kids, and a ring for a heifer.
From hand-me-down clothes, broken bones, and crawdads. From fishing in papaw’s pond in clothes made by my mom. No air conditioning and crickets at night. From creepy mouse up my leg, bluegrass, and rummy.
I am from photos in an album, by Papaw’s chair, stained with tears. Young brides and marriages that last. I am from veterans, and coal miners. Black coffee and Copenhagen. From barbed wire fences, skinned knees, and trust in the Lord.
I am from a gravel road that leads to the mountain, from the falling down mailbox, from Mayfield ice cream and macaroni and tomatoes.
I am from the house full of kids…loud, noisy, messy, and fun.
I am from the blackberry bushes and yellow jacket nests, the creek in the woods where we played and splashed and lived a thousand kid adventures.
I am from potlucks at Christmas and losing their temper, from Mamaws and Papaws and Mom and Dad. From shirtless boys with buzzed hair and bare feet.
I am from the shortest in the class and crooked teeth and freckles. Campfires and bluegill. Spankings and tears. From sucking my thumb will make it fall off and coffee will stunt my growth.
I am from washed in the blood Baptists. From Wednesday night services, week-long revivals, and Sunday School. From “Jesus Loves Me”, stolen money in the offering plate, turn around and stand up straight.
I’m from the woods of East Tennessee, boiled okra and watermelon with salt. From the man who prayed for a wife who could cook. A baker’s dozen of kids, and a ring for a heifer.
From hand-me-down clothes, broken bones, and crawdads. From fishing in papaw’s pond in clothes made by my mom. No air conditioning and crickets at night. From creepy mouse up my leg, bluegrass, and rummy.
I am from photos in an album, by Papaw’s chair, stained with tears. Young brides and marriages that last. I am from veterans, and coal miners. Black coffee and Copenhagen. From barbed wire fences, skinned knees, and trust in the Lord.
Kyra waking up for school. Seven o’clock comes early!
All dressed in her new school clothes.
Eating breakfast…a princess pop tart and strawberry milk.
All ready to go.
Kyra showing off her new princess backpack and Supergirl lunchbox.
Why can Daddy never snap the picture at the right moment and take a good picture of me? I had to add it, though, because these are the only pictures of me and my baby girl on her first day of school.
Daddy missed the kiss! It looks like she blew me off. In all actuality, we had a long, adorable smooch…that he missed!
Of course, I take great pics of him.
A smooch from Daddy!
Leaving the house…
…and we’re on our way to school.
