Back & Forth

I almost hate to admit this, but I'm starting to think that there might be more to life than having the perfect body. (Gasp!) Is that true? No, no... I'm not going to start calling a bowl of cheetos with a side of dr. pepper a healthy breakfast, but I am letting some things back into my diet that I wasn't letting myself have before: aspartame-sweetened diet soda (think Diet Pepsi Max, the occasional Diet Mountain Dew and Diet Barq's rootbeer) in addition to my beloved Splenda-sweetened Diet Rite. Also, fruit. Yes, fruit. I had pretty much eliminated it for several weeks. Today there are frozen, unsweetened cherries and mango chunks in my freezer (thank you, Dole!), strawberries in my fridge and bananas on the counter. Take that, eating disorder! HAVE A FUCKING BANANA ALREADY!

I go back and forth with wanting to be super strict in order to get that "cut" look I so desire, and then I'll have days where I think frickin' frick, what's the point, I'm a coooooooooooow! I know that both of these thoughts are totally ridiculous. They're extremes. I KNOW that I am not the type of person who can eat chicken and broccoli day after day, I can't go 4 or 5 days without some sort of "cheat" meal, I can't do 60+ minutes of cardio a day. Yes, I would LOVE to look like those fitness models on the cover of Oxygen, and I have the knowledge to get there, but right now I just don't have the drive and determination and time to do what it takes. And shit, that's ok! And the thing about me being a cow and feeling down on myself, well... that's part being female, part body image issues, and I think we all have those days.

My point is that I *know* I am a fit and healthy woman, and I always will be. There will never be a time when I'll get hungry and reach for chips or a candy bar and call it a meal. I thought about that today while driving home from the grocery store, after examining the contents of other people's carts. I'm proud of the healthy habits I've developed over the years. I'm proud of my commitment to exercise and taking the stairs instead of the elevator, etc. I like eating 8+ servings of fruits and veggies each day. But I still have a belly. I have cellulite on the backs of my thighs. There are stretchmarks on the backs of my arms and on my breasts. I'll never be perfect. Sometimes I feel like I'm waiting to have the perfect body to really live life. And since I'll never have the perfect body, life is passing me by. D mentioned that the Smashing Pumpkins are playing Voodoo Music Fest. The first thing that popped into my head was we can't go because it'll wreck my diet! THAT AIN'T RIGHT. I really need to shift my focus. I'm bound to go crazy if I don't. I'm trying. It's hard. Hang in there, I know.

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The night before last D and I swore that we wouldn't let Ethan come into our bed again. Of course Ethan woke up crying at around 2 a.m., and the first part of the plan was to go in and make sure he was ok, but then to give him a kiss and tell him to go to sleep and that I'd see him in the morning instead of scooping him up and bringing him to sleep with us like I had been doing. I braced myself for some major heartbreak as I headed to his room to tell him that it just wasn't happening tonight, he needed to sleep in his own bed, and when I approached his crib I saw that he'd taken off his pants and his diaper and had peed all over his crib. Fabulous. Oh for the love of Pete. I put a clean diaper on him and took him to bed with us. Hey, it was either that or turn on the light and change the sheets and make everyone miserable! He totally did that on purpose.

So last night we jammied him up in a onesie so he couldn't undress himself, and when he woke up crying "My mommy, my mommy!" at 2 a.m. as expected, we executed the plan like pros. I got up and hugged Ethan on the couch in his room for a few minutes and sang him some songs. Do you know what he did after that? He sat up and said "Come on, mommy. Let's go... bed. Come on, mommy..." and he did an exaggerated come here motion with his little arm... and said it again. "Come on, mommy. Let's go... bed." Fuck. I said "No, baby. Not tonight. You need to sleep in your bed. You need to go night-night in Ethan's bed." And he said "No!" and I said "Yes!" and he cried and I put him back in his crib and left the room. He was pretty pissed. How dare I! Then, 30 minutes later when he was still crying I nudged Drew to get up, it was his turn to go in there, and Drew turned over and put his pillow over his head. When I nudged him again he cursed for like 3 minutes straight and I think he actually growled, too. After another 5 or 10 minutes of listening to E cry he hit his pillow and cursed and growled again and finally got up and went to E's room to tell him to shut the hell up, but in a nice way. 15 minutes later everyone was asleep again, E in his crib THANK GAWD. The plan, it worked! And it wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it'd be. We'll see what happens tonight, oh I can't wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!