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I love my beautiful body.

Health and Fitness Blog Nosh Magazine {Originally published on Into the Rabbit Hole}


Tonight I put on my Express size 5/6 jeans again. I didn’t have to struggle, suck it in, or lay down to get them buttoned!

I never dreamed I would be able slide into these again. Since February, I’ve lost twenty pounds. That’s a lot, considering that I wasn’t fat to begin with. However, those twenty pounds were necessary, because now I definitely look better, feel healthier, and am more comfortable with my body.

Want to know my secret? Five simple words: “I love my beautiful body.”

Think about it! A person who loves their body will take care of it. If you were to body-sit for a loved one’s body, wouldn’t you do everything it needs, to make sure you return it happy and healthy? You’d feed it the most nutrient-rich, yummy food you could find, and you’d give it lots of exercise, and you’d never say things like, “You’re so fat,” or “God, if you could just lose fifteen pounds…” Hell no you wouldn’t say that!! If you were body-sitting, you would be kind and gentle, giving it everything it needed and telling it good things!

So, why is it that we don’t care for our bodies the way we know we need to?

I believe it’s has everything to do with how we think of our bodies. Instead of loving them, we put negative energy into our selves, wishing we could just lose (fill in the flaw)… or saying we’re not good enough until (fill in the ‘what am I lacking’)… Guess what! Thoughts like that affect our bodies.

You are what you think! And by changing the way I thought, I was able to bring forth to the outside of my body what it was that I thought from the inside of it. I wrote it in soap crayon on the tiles in my shower. I wrote it on my mirrors. Every time I turned the clasp on my necklace, I whispered, “I love my beautiful body.”

Eventually, I began to believe that. The power of your thoughts is everything. In order to break habitual thinking, or any habit for that matter, you must change that thought you express into something that is contradictory to what you have previously thought. For instance, when I quit smoking, I changed my self-perception into, “I am not a cigarette smoker.”

At first it was a struggle. “I love my beautiful body” conflicted with the original self image I had; it conflicted with the, I’m fats or I’m not pretty enoughs. That confliction is why I needed the reminders to change my thinking through out my day. I needed the necklace clasps and the soap crayons.

If you want to be beautiful from the outside, you must express beautiful things from the inside. Do not criticize your body; love it and care for it. Nurture it.



What do you owe the public?

Overcoming Adversity Blog Nosh Magazine {Originally Posted at Mom to the Screaming Masses}

005

Last week we had our big fishing trip. We took a meal with us, thinking that there might be an eating space nearby. And there was, and so while we set everything up, the kids sat under the gazebo and ate. When the lines were set up and the bait had been (euw!) prepped, we called them out to us and they came running. All except Riley. Often, Riley doesn’t join in, preferring to keep to herself. That’s fine with me. I don’t force her to join in - often, that’s counterproductive to our family enjoyment.

So we were fishing, or, rather the family was fishing and I was watching, because, euw! She strolled from the fishing area to the gazebo, bit her hamburger and walked back. Lather, rinse, repeat. She sang songs to herself and played finger games, stopped to admire some flowers, climbed on the bench and called to me often. When she wasn’t next to me, I kept my eye on her most of the time, flipping from “watch me fish, Mom!” to watching her play. She was satisfied to be alone. In short, it was a time that worked for her. She was content, and that’s a state I strive for. I relaxed, admiring the boats docked in the marina and waving to a woman who walked by with her medium sized dog on a leash.

Until I heard her scream, and scream, and scream - long, ear piercing, heart rending screams that seemed follow each other - as soon as one ended, she began again, without taking a breath.



Revelation, Brooke Shields Style - Pt.1

Family

Originally posted on The Anvil Tree

Sometimes, I feel like I make these grand assertions on here, and
there’s only grand to me. Which is fine; it’s my blog. I write it for
my own (lame) memory’s sake, anyhow, so any assertion I wanna make is
one I should feel good about making right?

But here’s one that I really am taking very seriously. It’s not
about my hair, my weight, or even cleaning. Well, it’s sorta about
cleaning. Mainly, it’s about me.

See, I have lots of very strong, capable women around me. Most (if
not all) of these women have given birth at some point. And while
every woman has their very own birth story, there has been one thing
I’ve never heard anything about in my own circle, so I assumed it was
just an urban legend.

Then, as it all came crashing down around me this last week, I
realized that urban legends have to have some truth to them in order to
circulate. So maybe it’s NOT so mythical. Maybe real people DO get
Post-partum depression.

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Hierarchy of Suffering. Who wins?

Overcoming adversity

Originally Published on Velveteen Mind

Suburban Oblivion recently complained that her two year old had been replaced by demon spawn. She welcomed any interest in buying him on eBay.

As luck would have it, someone took her up on the offer. Someone that apparently can not have children. Sara responded with an exercise in gratitude, expressing that it sometimes takes getting bitch-slapped in the comments to remember how good you have it.

What followed was a discussion in Suburban Oblivion’s comments that touched on a topic that I take very personally. The topic of gratitude and our right to be ungrateful some days. This is something that I’ve been meaning to write about for some time, but always back down. Sara is a great fire-starter, so here goes.

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Snotty Sobs

Overcoming adversity Originally Posted at Mom-O-Matic.

I’m going to try and talk about what’s going down with son because it’s kind of eating me up these days. When I write in this blog I do try to stick to just telling my own stories. That way I’m the only that can get mad when I realize that everyone knows my scene. But the lines between my story and his story are kind of blurry. When I look at my kids it’s like someone put the zoom lens on in my head. I really don’t see anything but their beautiful faces looking up at me. So worrying about son is overshadowing my view of everything. And I can feel it weighting me down into the depths of crappymotherhood. So I’m hoping I can get this off my chest and breathe a little easier, but do so in a way that respects his privacy. Here goes.

Son’s just been having a hard time of it this year. He’s been sporting these big, black shiners under his eyes all the time. He seemed run down and whiny often - but in that way that kids get when they’re sick. I admit we hoped that after his adenoid/tonsil surgery the relief from constant sinus infections would restore him. Bring back our bright and sunny guy. But my mommy gut knew that there was going to be something more going on. However, I told mommygut that she’s often been wrong since she started hanging around with myanxiety and to stuff it.

And at first he seemed to feel so much happier. He was sleeping better and eating more too. But those darn shiners just wouldn’t go away. And I hated them because they look like he hasn’t gotten enough care, or that he was sad. And then he started to say quite often, “I feel sad and I don’t know why.” (Mmm? What’s that sound? Oh that’s just my heart smashing to the floor - let me get a broom and clean that right up.)

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