Everyone has different coping mechanisms: strategies of survival necessary to move forward from a tragedy. Some binge watch Netflix, some consume abnormal amounts of Coffee Chip, some throw themselves into work to keep busy. I have done all of those things at different times throughout my life. This time around, however, is very different.
This was the first time in my life that my health was in question- that the idea that I may not be well was put into play and it scared the crap out of me. I have always cooked whole foods, we operate on an 80/20 scale as I don’t want to be militant about it and take the joy out of eating, but 80% of the time we eat whole, organic, non-processed foods. The other 20 percent consists largely of M&M’s and pizza. You need a little wiggle room somewhere. But I’ve made it no secret that exercise is a dirty word in my book. I love to be outside, to walk, and to swim, but recreationally not intentionally. And, lately, a little too many M&M’s have been sneaking across the radar (damn those pretzel ones) than I’d like to admit. Without actually intending to pursue a healthier mindset, I found that it was almost put into motion for me.
Each meal is mainly veggies and fruit, with some grains and meat thrown in on the side. I’ve stopped at two cups of coffee. Seriously. Like, I don’t even want any more than that. How did that happen????? I started ordering Door to Door Organics and it has literally revolutionized the way I eat and still work as many hours as I do. It was a step toward this new word, self-care, that I’ve up until now ignored as selfish and elite but now refuse to believe is anything more than integral to everyone’s wellbeing in my household.
I stumbled upon a free yoga program that runs for thirty days, and the old me is recoiling in horror as I type that I actually LOOOOOVVVEEEE it. What?!?!?! I do. I love it. It’s short, I’m fairly certain my poses look like someone trying not to drown, and my kid (who’s school actually teaches yoga to their pre-schoolers every Thursday) critiques my Cobra from the couch but I love the way it makes me feel strong and beautiful. Like i’m capable of something I never knew I could do.
I’m dying my hair. Red, in fact. I called all of my family members who are therapists to let them know that I am doing this as a way of changing things I can control in order to cope with circumstances that I cannot, and since I am self-aware it is not a cry for help. Phew. Got that covered. I need to do it- I need to do something so unlike me, so foreign and weird with no dramatic repercussions.
I read this book and I am tired just thinking about all the work I’ve already done and all the work I need to do in order to empty the house of things that don’t give me, “joy”. That’s pretty much everything. The VETS are so tired from walking up and down my stairs I offered the guys some coffee the last time. We are going to try to sell the house, and this was a great push to send all of our stuff on it’s way to bless someone else. Get. It. Out. Of. Here.
I am steering clear of all of the Mommy-debates that have stirred the pot lately- the vaccinations, the measles, the formula, the judgemental-or not- commercials. You want to know why? I’m just glad I have a kid. She’s running and jumping and playing with her doll house using weird voices that sound like Yoda and Sofia the First had a baby and I don’t want to miss a second in case this is the only chance I have. Not a second.