Fall In

A beautiful quote from my Peloton “Feel Good Ride” this morning with Ally Love. Some days it’s easy to “fall in” to self-love. Other days, like today, it feels impossible to surrender to that empowered ideal. Even though I know in that surrender is the contentment I crave.

Today, I ended up crying through my kids’ swim class after getting a speeding ticket on the way there. It’s not about the ticket, but the mortifying experience of getting pulled over with my kids in the car pushed me over the edge. I am crippled with cognitive dissonance right now. I am stuck in the shift from school year to summer and I’m letting it get the best of me.

One broken mama

Over the last couple of days I’ve tried to resort to old coping mechanisms to ease this tricky transition in our family routine. But junk food and a glass of wine make me feel so much worse. SO much worse. They always did, but I didn’t notice it as much when I was stuck in my wino-life, because I never knew how good I could feel.

But I am not fully equipped to fill the void left by booze and junk either, and that’s what broke me today. Can’t drink, can’t stuff my face with chocolate. What else do I have? Foam rolling. Tea. US Weekly (though that’s fairly toxic too). Writing. Seltzer. Stretching. Breathing…? But I just want a jar of Nutella! Is that so wrong? Yup. F.

I know this is a process. And I know I’m too hard on myself most of the time. I get lost in one bag of tortilla chips and lose sight of the long game, in which I’ve already scored more goals than I ever thought possible.

So let’s zoom out of this pity party for a moment.

This was a tough week. My daughter was crushed to have her kindergarten year come to an end. My husband was out three nights and has been renovating our garage all weekend. I haven’t had enough time or space from my kids to be able to digest the end of the school year. Oh, and I had a heinous case of PMS.

I have a kid who finished kindergarten. This is a big deal to me. A milestone in my motherhood journey. My little girl is vanishing before my eyes, and in her place is an increasingly poised, articulate, compassionate, curious, independent big kid with real feelings and opinions and the ability to express them.

She has also arrived at a point in her life where she will have legit memories. And here are her dad and I, at the helm of our family craft, doing our best to steer both of our kids through what they will hopefully remember as a happy and fun childhood while navigating the tricky waters of adulthood ourselves.

We are all first-timers here. And we are all going to stumble along the way.

After her swim lesson today, my daughter could tell I had been crying – luckily my 4-year-old son was oblivious so I only had to contend with one conversation, which of course turned the waterworks right back on. She looked me directly in the eye and wanted to know exactly why I was so upset and what she could do to help me feel better.

My kid shows compassion beyond her years. And she loves me so damn much.

I need to show her that it’s just as important to love yourself as it is to love those closest to you. I need to give myself a break. I need to show her that when things get out of whack, love brings us back to where we should be.

Oh wait. She already knows. Fall in, Mama.

My Alcohol Experiment: 100 Days of a Changed Life

It has been 100 days since I started The Alcohol Experiment. One. Hundred. Days!

I feel slightly strange marking this milestone, given that I have not gone completely sans booze. Over the last 100 days, I went sober for the first 74. Since then I have had four drinks total on three separate occasions. I have been alcohol-free for 97 out of 100 days.

On the three occasions I did drink, I was completely in control and acting within my non-negotiables. I decided before going out (because I have not had any booze at home since the start of TAE) how much I would drink, and made sure I pre-tracked the booze. So while I have not been 100% alcohol-free for the last 100 days, I have been 100% in control of my drinking.

And that feels pretty awesome.

I can’t help but wonder if I would be feeling more accomplished if I had gone completely alcohol-free for all 100 days. While that would have been an incredible achievement, I am content to not be contending with the anxiety around when or if I would have a drink again. I feel no guilt about the fact that I am celebrating an alcohol-free milestone that has included four drinks. Because that has been part of the process for me. This is my path, it’s what feels genuine to me, and as long as I maintain that authenticity it’s all good.

What am I taking with me as I move beyond these 100 days? From all the content Annie Grace graciously bequeaths us in TAE, what have been the most useful tools for me?

Non-Negotiables my non-negotiables that I initially set on Day 29 are becoming more and more deeply etched in my brain. I take this list very seriously. The structure provided by my non-negotiables is the main reason why I am cautiously optimistic that moderation will be possible for me.

The Power of Positive Thinking and Self-Talk – I didn’t realize how negative my self-talk was until I examined it through the lens of TAE. Allowing myself grace, making a conscious effort to nix negative, critical thoughts and instead treat myself with the same level of kindness with which I treat people I love has been such a gift – to myself, but also to those around me. My kids will now grow up with a mom who cherishes herself, her body, and her life. And I hope they will never struggle with negativity and self-criticism the way I did.

Gratitude for My Body – see above, and also that letter I wrote to my body on Day 11? Life-changing. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I am now at the best level of fitness with the healthiest body I have had since my wedding. My bod and I are BFFs now and it shows.

The Critical Role of Connection – Connecting with my husband and kids. Connecting with mom friends and old friends. Connecting with my mom. Connecting virtually with amazing #sobersisters on Connect. Connecting with myself. All of these connections are more authentic, nourishing and rewarding when experienced with a clear head and heart.

Chemical Knowledge – Alongside all of this self-examination and -improvement of the last 100 days is a keen understanding of the chemical effects of alcohol on the body. Being acutely aware of the whole process, from craving to consumption to digestion and detoxification, has definitely helped me conquer my cravings. And on the three occasions I chose to drink during the last 100 days, my awareness of what was happening in my brain and body helped me stay in control. Is drinking less enjoyable because of the knowledge I now possess? Yes. Is that a bad thing? Nope!

As I cross the 100-day threshold, what is my plan from here? To keep after it! To keep doing what I’m doing with regard to alcohol. To keep reading, listening to podcasts, seeking support from my #sobersisters. To keep writing this blog. To keep learning and sharing. And to stay positive and kind and grateful, always.

Monday Malaise

I’m feeling some malaise today. I am quite literally not at ease. It’s not the alcohol, since I haven’t had any for the last 17 days (and 96 out of the last 99 days!) anyway. It’s not even the chocolate mint waffle cone, bagels, cookies, and Chinese food I binged on yesterday – though recovering from that is not helping. It’s just me – unclouded, un-hungover – having a malaise-y Monday.

With the end of the school year upon us, and my son starting kindergarten in another year, I ponder the precipice I approach. I have been a stay-at-home mom for the last six and a half years. And I don’t know what’s next for me. I don’t have a job waiting for me, or a career to which I could make a triumphant return. I am about to emerge from the depths of #SAHMlife and I don’t know what’s out there in a world where I will have SEVEN WHOLE HOURS to myself five days week.

I imagine some of this time will be taken up by a part-time job. But what am I going to do to make money? None of my volunteer commitments have the potential to turn into paying gigs. And lately I’ve lost steam with them anyway. I’ve been too into, well, THIS. Writing. And reading. And Connecting.

I am figuring my shit out, learning to love myself, and finding my voice.

So what do I WANT to do once I am able to usher both my kids onto the same school bus and not be chauffeuring them, cooking for them, cleaning up after them, and wiping their butts all day?

I want to help people like the person I used to be, by which I mean overweight, wine-dependent, unfit, and – most importantly – under-self-loved. But how? There are already so many beautiful women with perfect Instagram accounts and gazillions of followers who are established in the sober/mom/fitness/wellness/you-name-it communities. Books have already been written. Podcasts have already been recorded. Who am I to think I have anything to add to any aspect of any of this?

Especially since I have not fully given up alcohol. And I have not fully conquered my eating issues. And I could always be more fit. And a better mom. Etc.

But I have come so far. I wake every morning now with a body that a year and a half ago I believed was totally unrealistic for me. Before starting Weight Watchers, I had my wedding rings sized up and now they dangle from my fingers on cool days. The thought of drinking the way I used to not only holds zero appeal, it feels like a different life – and yet it was only six-ish months ago that it was MY life. I feel more comfortable in this skin than I have felt in years – maybe ever.

And yet I’m uneasy. I think because I don’t have a clear picture of where I want to go, what I want to be, what I want to do. My opportunity to emerge from #SAHMlife is on the horizon and when I get there I want to be ready to slay.

For now, I am a work in progress. And that is ok. I will never catch up to those amazing ladies who have been pioneers in the alcohol-free movement. And that is ok. I am finding my own voice. And that is ok. I can’t pretend to be anything other than this much-improved version of me. And that is more than ok.

Will I ever give up alcohol completely? I don’t know. Here’s what I do know: I will indulge in a glass of wine the way I indulge in a cup of Cold Stone Peanut Butter Cup Perfection. Very occasionally. I know it’s not good for me. I know it brings no benefit to the body that I have worked so hard to achieve. I know I will feel worse for having consumed it. And yet I am building enough inner trust to know that one cup of ice cream or glass of wine will NOT send me into a spiral anymore. And that is huge for me.

Maybe someday these desires will disappear, and I won’t want to burden my body with booze or sugar. Wouldn’t that be great? I don’t know, actually – and that’s why it’s not my goal right now.

My goal is to spend what little kid-free time I currently have empowering myself with knowledge. Understanding acutely the effect of these chemicals on my body. But I am not going to force myself to fit into the alcohol-free mold before I’m ready, because I don’t want to set myself up for self-sabotage.

The final ascent to the self-actualization apex of Maslow’s Pyramid probably does not include alcohol or sugar, or caffeine for that matter! But everyone’s ascent is different. And I can only follow my own. As long as I’m making my way up that pyramid, no matter how round-about my route, that is the important thing.

I have more than a year until two little butts scurry up the stairs onto the school bus. I have time. I am in learning and discovery mode. And whenever I feel late to the party, with my tiny blog and tiny Instagram following, I have to remind myself that the party has already changed for the better because I am here.

 

maslow-5
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

Dear Future Me

Dear Future Me,

So you found your abs at age 37 and life has been perfect since then, right? Tee hee. Ha.

I’m writing to you today because I’m reading a book called The Food Therapist in an effort to tackle my issues with food – diagnosed, according to the author, as dependence, craving for control, and lack of trust. Apparently, the more connected I feel to YOU, Jen-in-her-40s, the better equipped I will be to conquer these issues and maintain my goals (abs!) (and other stuff) for the long haul.

So how are you? Energized, clear-skinned, inspired, confident, and still fitting into a size 4-6? Continually obsessed with your Peloton bike? Still getting a literal and figurative kick out of your heavy bag kickboxing classes? I hope so.

If you recall, you spent ten weeks in 2017 dropping 23 pounds with Weight Watchers. You maintained your weight loss as you began to exercise regularly again. And you also drank regularly throughout. Your drinking became both less pleasurable and less escapable, and so you decided to go dry in January 2018. And that’s when things really got interesting.

Your world opened up with clarity and exquisiteness that you couldn’t have imagined. You liberated yourself from the “mommy juice” myth. And when alcohol became routine again in February and March, you started The Alcohol Experiment. 30 days turned into 60 which turned into 76 days sans booze.

As of today, 93 days since the start of The Alcohol Experiment, I (switching pronouns here, sounds a little less awkward this way) have had four drinks. And I feel great about that. I have steadfastly adhered to my alcohol non-negotiables. The one night I had two glasses of wine, I enjoyed the first and did not enjoy the second. I am continuing to experiment and I am striving, always, for balance.

I wonder where you are with alcohol. In this letter I’m supposed to tell you where I want you to be. But, honestly, I’m not sure. I want you to be happy and healthy, first and foremost. I trust that you have not regressed. If you have decided that alcohol really has no place in your life, kudos to you! And if you have continued to drink occasionally, so long as you truly enjoy it and always adhere to your non-negotiables, that’s a-ok too.

As of the typing of this letter, I am about 98% at peace with my relationship with alcohol. I hope you can confidently say that you are at 100%. And if you haven’t taken a moment lately to celebrate that, please do. Go ahead, I’ll wait. The 2017 us did not believe we would ever be free from our reliance on alcohol. I am so proud to have broken free, and you should still be proud too.

As for food, I hope that walking by the small batch artisanal tortilla chips at DeCicco’s is no longer torturous for you. I hope you can have a bag of chocolate granola – or maybe even a jar of Nutella! – in the pantry without eating the whole thing in one go. I hope that you and food were able to work through your issues and that your relationship flourishes now.

I’m sure it wasn’t easy. After all, you and food had a rocky rapport from the beginning. As a kindergartener you fell asleep every night with your blankie and a Hi-C juice box. Food was always a comfort, a salve, an escape, a distraction. A moment of joy that was worth long-term emotional and physical malaise. But then you ditched booze and started to really love yourself, and once that self-love took hold there wasn’t as much room left for your toxic relationship with food, was there?

I am at the beginning now. I am just starting to untangle 37 years of food dysfunction. I think I can do it. I hope I can. No. You know what? I WILL. Because I’ve come too far to not tackle this shit. (I hope as you read this you’re smiling to yourself, endeared by my determination and my still-flickering self-doubt, which I hope you extinguished for good long ago.)

Here is how I envision you, Jen-in-her-40s:

You wake up well-rested and maintain steady energy throughout your day. You walk into your closet knowing you can fit into everything you see. Whatever you put on, your clothing brings you joy and makes you feel good about how you look. In the summer you confidently wear a bikini, and not just on skinny days. You have a strong core (do you have those awesome side muscles that I am just starting to see? I hope so!) and you don’t look pregnant by the end of the day. You are confident in how you look and how you feel and how you move. You feel sexier than I do. But most importantly, you feel strong and healthy – which may mean something different to you than it does to me, and that’s cool.

You are your own living epitome of health.

No pressure, though.

I don’t expect you to have yanked out your sweet tooth. Or your salt tooth, for that matter. I hope that you and food have a relationship based on trust and appreciation. You see food as fuel for your strong and healthy body and mind. The occasional indulgence does not send you flailing into a downward spiral or fleeing to the pantry in a state of sugar-lust. Sugar-lust may still exist for you, but YOU are in control of your cravings. You understand why they are happening. You are mindful and aware and whether you choose to indulge a craving or not, you act consciously and move on confidently.

I’m starting to feel so excited for us. I’m excited for me to become you. I could do without the additional gray hair and fine lines that will turn into wrinkles; but I’m less fussed about those things because I know that I am taking our wonky foundation and reinforcing it so that we can continue to grow, to build, to strengthen, to create, to achieve.

Thank you for getting yourself to where you are.

You’re welcome for starting you on your way.

Love,

Me

 

 

TGI… OMG I’m So Tired

Oh but it’s so much more than oatmeal, y’all.

Two and a half weeks since I’ve posted here! Feeling so far behind, and with so much to say, and not enough time to actually write it all out. Because, you know, life. Momlife, to be specific. The end of the school year has mercilessly hurtled itself at us at light speed and I was SO NOT READY. I’m never ready, but I felt even less ready this year. But it is happening, so.

So I find myself at Starbucks, still sweaty from my 45-minute kickboxing class and with an hour to spare before I have to release my babysitter and report back to mom duty. I’m taking hold of this precious hour with both hands, trying not to strangle it but holding on to each minute for dear life. This has been a trying week, with my under-the-weather-yet-still-rambunctious (HOW?!!) four-year-old son usurping most of my energy. He is between school and summer camp this week, and I thought it would be easier than past years (four is supposed to be better than three which is supposed to be better than two…) but SURPRISE! Having him with me all week has left me feeling exhausted deep into my bones.

And I feel guilty admitting that. Because he is such a darn good, sweet, fun kid. And I feel like I should be a stronger, more creative, more energized mom. That I should have created a week of magic and quality time and craft projects and museum trips and – how am I still allowing myself to be a victim of mom guilt almost 7 years into parenthood?!

STOP.

Enough. Back to what is real: I feel deeply, utterly pooped. I have been in bed by 8:30 the last two nights, asleep by 9:30, and STILL feel totally wrecked when my alarm jars me awake at six. I’ve been hydrating and eating better than I have in weeks, yet I can’t shake this fatigue and fuzzy brain. (“Did I pay the babysitter on Monday?” “Did I hug my kid goodbye?”) So I’ve started feeling anxious about that, which of course makes everything worse.

I haven’t felt anxiety like this since I was a big ol’ wino. And it is most unwelcome.

Let’s focus on the positive. I’m proud of myself for prioritizing my kickboxing class during a week when routine is out the window. When I got to the ‘bux I had a dozen FitPoints and all my Weeklies at my disposal and I chose to spend nine of these precious points on oatmeal with honey and nuts, plus a 0-point unsweetened iced green tea. The pre-Weight Watchers me would have ordered a sausage sandwich and a venti cold brew with a generous splash of soy milk. But I actually WANTED to make this healthy choice. My eating habits are truly changing for the better! YAY. (I’ll have that cold brew tomorrow though.)

So, I may be at the end of a wonky week and feeling disoriented by fatigue and stuck in an anxiety-fueled cycle of yuck, but I’m proud of myself for building strength and endurance through kickboxing and then refueling in such a healthy way. Sometimes eking out a small victory (or two!) is a huge victory in itself.