Summer is just right around the corner.
I can't bend over to tie my shoes.
I'm training for a race.
I need to zip up that wedding dress.
I'm hosting a fitness challenge.
I don't know what my belly button looks like.
My jeans hurt.
I feel miserably unhappy.
I'm not allowed to wear sweats to work.
My husband deserves better.
The thigh chafe is at a whole new level of warmth.
My sweat smells like Taco Bell.
My labored breathing has developed it's own recording label.
LuLaRoe doesn't have enough patterns for a different outfit everyday.
Food tastes good.
The majority of the population has the ability of sight.
Doughnuts...
I now live stateside again.
Doughnuts...and pizza...
My skin hurts.
Doughnuts...and pizza...and all things breakfast...
I can't stand looking at myself in the mirror.
Doughnuts....and pizza...and all things breakfast...and put it all in my mouth...
Wait...what is this?...entering unfamiliar territory. Wait, can't breathe...HELP ME! ALL CONSUMING...WHAT IS THIS??? DROWNING....DROWNING...CAN'T BREATHE...HELP...TEARS...SMILES...TEARS AND SMILES AND CAN'T BREATHE...AND OH, MY GOSH...SHE'S HERE...
...MY EVERY REASON FOR EVERYTHING HAS COME AND HAS ALREADY ROCKED MY EXISTENCE. WELCOME TO THE WORLD, CLARA MAE NEWTON!
Y'all know me. I'm pathologically addicted to all things weight loss and fitness. The irony that I look like every before picture ever is not lost on me; it just is what is it. What fun would it be if I changed now? Who would you call a hypocrite? I'm okay with wearing the hypocrite title. Anyway...moving on...
For years, I always had some bogus or on rare occasions an actual legitimate excuse/reason in my back pocket as to why I was doing what I was doing. If you're new to this blog, then I thank you, but you might want to read some previous material to truly understand the psycho behind the words. And yes, I spend a good 90% complaining about things that are in my control. I'm aware of my own pettiness...and typos. The typos are intentional, for no other reason than I am just too tired to care. You'll also read that I love going down random rabbit holes, and I'm terrible at segways, so I usually just stop and pick up where I meant to be....
I HAVE A NEW REASON WHY! That is not news to y'all. We've been celebrating the arrival of Clara for almost a year, and for those who were not aware, babies were not supposed to be possible for Team Newton. Well, once we started planning for a beach house, God chuckled to Himself, and blessed us with a tummy nugget.
When I was pregnant, and I absolutely hated being pregnant, I thought I knew how it was all going to go down. Let's just say that I find myself eating my own words almost daily. I love this little baby! I know that might seem like a common sense comment, but for real, I LOVE HER! Her little existence has made me rethink a lot of my "certainties." All that I am certain of now is how much I love my family. I'm also equally certain of how easily annoyed I am by "parenting/mom" columns. Facebook ads and google suggestions have gone awry, and I am assaulted by words more often than not. And the one that tugs at my heartstrings most is "My reason, not my excuse."
I promise I'm not one to get all hyped up and start trolling on advice columns, but that statement doesn't sit well with me. I fully understand the power behind the words and what they mean, and I am completely aware that a lot of people throw personal health and maintenance to the side after children. I am super excited, supportive, and motivated when I see parents working out with their little ones around, and I am one of those parents. However, I feel like that mantra can be destructive.
I was going to have "after baby celebrity results." I was going to jump right back into my fitness regimen and be back to my normal self before Reuben returned home. I was going to put that baby in the stroller and log miles daily. I was going to do every at home fitness video I owned during nap time. I was going to track every calorie and take advantage of the "breastfeeding weight-loss." I was going to give "snap back" a whole new meaning...and then this happened...
...and those are all different days! My schedule was shot! I was a slave to her napping and breastfeeding. I watched the entire series of Friends over a four day period...I lived on the couch. Soooo....yeahhhhh...I had to re-evaluate reality and weigh what was really important. Her napping was really important. Me being present in her growth was really important. Attending to her needs when she cried was really important. Playing out the exhausting "fourth trimester" was really important. Being a constant for her was really important. Sitting around and feeling badly about my looks was really NOT important, but that's what I was doing, and I felt awful about it. I should have been grateful for my miracle, not upset that I was still in maternity jeans. I even looked at her and said, "You're supposed to be my reason, not my excuse..." and boom...clarity. That statement can mean anything; it doesn't have to provide new moms full of guilt. Here's the spin I put on it then and continue to believe: Clara's my reason...
to be a mom
to take a 1,000 pictures a day
to bring up baby talk whenever
for being exhausted all the time
for being hyperemotional
for celebrating all things baby all the time
for spending hours looking at baby clothes
to make a mess in the middle of the living room
to waller
to brag
to believe
for changing my life plans
for moving back home
for relying on my husband now more than ever
for peeing myself when jump roping
to seize every chance for a memory
to budget
to figure out some form of organization (<-yet to happen)
to question society
for loving more openly
for wearing pajamas all weekend
for tickles
for being obsessed with poos and boogers
to celebrate milestones
to incorporate more veggies
to rush out of my classroom at the end of each day
to be a better me, no matter what that entails
for giving it all to God all the time...
I have a new reason why for all things. She's the new fuel to Team Newton's fire. "My reason, not my excuse" is no longer laden with guilt. Is working out important to me? Yes, but that's always been the case. Is being healthy a priority? Of course, I want to be a good example for her. But don't be surprised to learn if I have an entire day, week, or month where I do nothing but love on my child and husband while making memories. She's my reason why our family is complete, and that is priority number one.
Disclaimer: I know this entry reads like a cat on acid soaked catnip, but when you feel all kinds of feels all the time, it's difficult to put the right thoughts down and sound educated. This, apparently, was the result. But I feel like I may have gotten my point across...maybe...ehhh, at least you see cute early Clara pictures :)
LuLaRoe doesn't have enough patterns for a different outfit everyday.
Food tastes good.
The majority of the population has the ability of sight.
Doughnuts...
I now live stateside again.
Doughnuts...and pizza...
My skin hurts.
Doughnuts...and pizza...and all things breakfast...
I can't stand looking at myself in the mirror.
Doughnuts....and pizza...and all things breakfast...and put it all in my mouth...
Wait...what is this?...entering unfamiliar territory. Wait, can't breathe...HELP ME! ALL CONSUMING...WHAT IS THIS??? DROWNING....DROWNING...CAN'T BREATHE...HELP...TEARS...SMILES...TEARS AND SMILES AND CAN'T BREATHE...AND OH, MY GOSH...SHE'S HERE...
...MY EVERY REASON FOR EVERYTHING HAS COME AND HAS ALREADY ROCKED MY EXISTENCE. WELCOME TO THE WORLD, CLARA MAE NEWTON!
Y'all know me. I'm pathologically addicted to all things weight loss and fitness. The irony that I look like every before picture ever is not lost on me; it just is what is it. What fun would it be if I changed now? Who would you call a hypocrite? I'm okay with wearing the hypocrite title. Anyway...moving on...
For years, I always had some bogus or on rare occasions an actual legitimate excuse/reason in my back pocket as to why I was doing what I was doing. If you're new to this blog, then I thank you, but you might want to read some previous material to truly understand the psycho behind the words. And yes, I spend a good 90% complaining about things that are in my control. I'm aware of my own pettiness...and typos. The typos are intentional, for no other reason than I am just too tired to care. You'll also read that I love going down random rabbit holes, and I'm terrible at segways, so I usually just stop and pick up where I meant to be....
I HAVE A NEW REASON WHY! That is not news to y'all. We've been celebrating the arrival of Clara for almost a year, and for those who were not aware, babies were not supposed to be possible for Team Newton. Well, once we started planning for a beach house, God chuckled to Himself, and blessed us with a tummy nugget.
I look more composed than I actually felt.
When I was pregnant, and I absolutely hated being pregnant, I thought I knew how it was all going to go down. Let's just say that I find myself eating my own words almost daily. I love this little baby! I know that might seem like a common sense comment, but for real, I LOVE HER! Her little existence has made me rethink a lot of my "certainties." All that I am certain of now is how much I love my family. I'm also equally certain of how easily annoyed I am by "parenting/mom" columns. Facebook ads and google suggestions have gone awry, and I am assaulted by words more often than not. And the one that tugs at my heartstrings most is "My reason, not my excuse."
I promise I'm not one to get all hyped up and start trolling on advice columns, but that statement doesn't sit well with me. I fully understand the power behind the words and what they mean, and I am completely aware that a lot of people throw personal health and maintenance to the side after children. I am super excited, supportive, and motivated when I see parents working out with their little ones around, and I am one of those parents. However, I feel like that mantra can be destructive.
Clara nursing at four weeks old...just completed a brutal workout
 |
| Juggling baby girl after 17.2 |
to be a mom
to take a 1,000 pictures a day
to bring up baby talk whenever
for being exhausted all the time
for being hyperemotional
for celebrating all things baby all the time
for spending hours looking at baby clothes
to make a mess in the middle of the living room
to waller
to brag
to believe
for changing my life plans
for moving back home
for relying on my husband now more than ever
for peeing myself when jump roping
to seize every chance for a memory
to budget
to figure out some form of organization (<-yet to happen)
to question society
for loving more openly
for wearing pajamas all weekend
for tickles
for being obsessed with poos and boogers
to celebrate milestones
to incorporate more veggies
to rush out of my classroom at the end of each day
to be a better me, no matter what that entails
for giving it all to God all the time...
I have a new reason why for all things. She's the new fuel to Team Newton's fire. "My reason, not my excuse" is no longer laden with guilt. Is working out important to me? Yes, but that's always been the case. Is being healthy a priority? Of course, I want to be a good example for her. But don't be surprised to learn if I have an entire day, week, or month where I do nothing but love on my child and husband while making memories. She's my reason why our family is complete, and that is priority number one.
Disclaimer: I know this entry reads like a cat on acid soaked catnip, but when you feel all kinds of feels all the time, it's difficult to put the right thoughts down and sound educated. This, apparently, was the result. But I feel like I may have gotten my point across...maybe...ehhh, at least you see cute early Clara pictures :)
