Over the weekend, I struggled. I really did. My kids were down for a visit, which meant four more people in the house: Four more people to cook for, four more people to clean up after, four more people to consider, and four more people to hugs and love on–it was exhausting.
It was also wonderful.
Most of the time when the kids are visiting I make out fine. I am ready to shop before they come. I have in mind what I want to do for meals. I have a plan in place for me to have lots of fresh fruit and veggies in the frig and the cupboards. I make sure to clean the house before they come and while they are there I forget that the whole house looks like a “clothes bomb” went off and covered every inch of interior space. When they are in the house, I try to focus on them, please them, adjust my life to them.
Most of the time my strategies for keeping the kids over the weekend work, but when I don’t feel good, or I ache all over, or I have a foot injury, not so much.
This weekend was hard, I will not lie. Add to all the commotion, the fact that I was given bad news, hard news, difficult news for me to process and you have a recipe for disaster. That was what home base felt like to me this weekend. Like a moving, developing, hurtful disaster. It wasn’t really, but parts of it felt that way.
When my life takes these turns, and it sometimes does, I find it hand to balance all the chaos.
This weekend I felt like old habits were haunting my house. Several times I felt like throwing the towel in and giving up, then my new habits would kick in and I would feel refreshed and renewed once more. Most of the eating that went on in my house this weekend was clean and fresh and healthy. Some of the eating that went on in my house this weekend was slopping, and convenient, and discouraging. The reasons for this imbalance was shared by all of the inhabitants of my house this past weekend, and I’m not upset about what others did, but I am upset about how I handled a few things.
One night, I actually suggested pizza and wings for dinner. Ugh. Sloppy eating…destructive eating…harmful eating, that’s what that was. I did not eat pizza that night, but opted for a salad instead. I did eat a chicken wing though, and called it “appropriate” protein.
Oh, the games I play with food, especially when I am not feeling good…
Last night I took a ride. I went by myself. I needed the time. I was discouraged. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to reflect. I wanted to pray. I wanted to reaffirm my plans for doing better this week. I wanted some me time, so I went to a familiar place that I love. Ahhh, here I could unwind.
Except that I couldn’t.
Someone I knew, not even knew well, appeared in line while I was waiting for that cup of Joe that was going to take-me-away. He asked to sit with me, eat with me. I couldn’t refuse him. We chatted. Some of it was even about healthy eating.
I still felt crowded, uneasy, cheated of my “time”.
July was to be a no-junk month for me. Clean eating all the way. It hasn’t turned out that way. My hope: July has been a learning experience. I still have a lot of month to go before I reach the end. I believe I can redeem some of the bad choices made this weekend. I’m hoping I do better over the next 23 days. I won’t have family in town again this month, but I do have a big family birthday bash planned at my house for August 3rd. Here’s hoping I can get a grip before then.
Back to basics this week: Measured meals, healthy choices, no junk, and prayer. Lots and lots of prayer!