Time, like the words we choose, is something you can't take back. Time can be sectioned off, blocked off, shared, given, consumed, rushed, slowed down, stressful, relaxing etc. And try as you might, you can never get it back once it's gone.
Over the past several months, I have been thinking about time and how it is slipping away from me. Hallie turned 3 years old on Easter, and it came as a bit of a shock. Every thought about time that I've had in the last few months came to the forefront of my mind. And I must admit, it felt like walking face first into a brick wall.
My little girl is growing up. And there is nothing I can do to slow it down. Everyday she says and does new things that amaze me. Just a couple of days ago, we were outside on the driveway drawing with sidewalk chalk, and when I drew a picture of a sun, she drew one for the first time that actually looked like a sun. I was taken aback. She can now copy different types of lines that I draw with the sidewalk chalk. And today we were outside with the chalk and she started scribbling on the cement and announced with unabashed joy that the she was going to draw a rocketship that was "going to outerspace". All I could think in response to this was "Where has the time gone?" and "When in the world did she get so smart??".
A small piece of my heart broke (maybe you could even say cracked) a little when I thought about how she is no longer the tiny baby we got when she was just shy of turning 1 year old. In just two very short years, she will be one summer away from starting kindergarten. And when I am away from her, I can almost physically feel those precious moments like countless tiny granules of sand slipping through my fingers. And this scares the crap out of me.
We waited so long and prayed so hard to get her. My heart is often heavy when I leave her to go to work. She has told me often lately that she doesn't want to go to the sitter's, that she wants me to stay with her. I have thought about how this affects her, and how it affects me. And the only real conclusion I can come to, and have come to is this: if time and its moments are like those tiny granules of sand slipping through my hands, then I am going to work like hell to scrape together and grasp what sand I can to make a sandcastle of memories that no wind, water, or person can take away from me.
The decision is pretty simple. I'm not going to work for a while. I love my job. I love the places it takes me, the people it brings me to, and just the sheer joy it brings in to my life. I do believe there is a time and a season for everything, so with that in mind, and with the knowledge that my job will always be waiting for me when I am ready, is a blessing that not many people can possess.
This time, this season, is the time for me to be with my daughter, to teach her, to relish the world in and through her eyes, and to exist in a world that is so much better because she is mine.
Monday, April 16
This blog post will seem like it's coming out of nowhere, but here goes.
I'm shocked, dismayed, disappointed, and humiliated. And for one main reason.
I'm FAT. I got on the scale a couple of weeks ago, and had that scary, takes your breath away, lightning strikes, no holds barred epiphany. I have reached a weight that I never wanted to reach, and when I mean NEVER, I meant not even 23 months pregnant type weight. (if there was such a thing).
And at first all I could think of was questions such as "How could I do this to myself?", "What the HELL???", "How could I have gained those last 20 lbs THAT FAST???". Tears flowed, swear words came boiling to the surface of my mind, and what semblance of self-confidence seemingly flushed themselves down the toilet close to where my scale sits in my bathroom. Talk about an epiphany that ruins just about everything.
I thought about recent discussions with people that love and care about me enough to tell me that they are worried about me.
I thought about how I've been ignoring my progressive feeling of my clothes getting tighter and tighter.
I thought about how I've busted the zippers in two of my favorite skirts that I wear to church (this puts a SERIOUS damper on outfit options on Sunday mornings before church).
I realized that I've not felt good about how I feel, look, or perceive myself in let's see... I can't even tell you how long.
I realized that the options of clothes that only barely fit in my closet have been diminishing right before my eyes.
Then came the harsh, heart pricking, humbling, and devastating realization, and understanding that I have only one person I can blame for this... that is ME.
I have waited too long, sitting on the sidelines of the game called LIFE, watching other people losing weight and enjoying the fruits of their efforts both in the gym and in watching what they eat.
For too long, I have desperately wanted to feel, look, and know that I am healthy again.
I decided to stop living the way I was living, and to make a serious change.
I am working out again.
I am eating better, and writing down everything that I eat.
I am slowly changing my mindset: that I am not worthless, that I am worth IT.
And I am starting, ever so slowly, to see some results.
To keep doing what I was doing, and to choose not to leave the sidelines is no longer an option.
I have NO excuses.