I like to think that I’m not mean to myself. I like to pretend like there’s nothing wrong. Everything is fine. I had to be on video today. The marketing team asked me to participate in an educational video. I was apprehensive, but I couldn’t see a way out of it, so I agreed.

First of all, I had thrown my hair in a low ponytail and was not wearing any make up. Secondly, my face is super broke out. Thirdly, I’m so freaking fat and am dreading seeing myself on video. I could go on, but all I’ve got it I kind thoughts about my appearance and voice and fear and worry if I said the right thing and did everything correct.

The whole time, it was in the back of my mind trying to stand straight and look slimmer and be prettier… but that it didn’t matter because ultimately, I’m fat and unattractive and they should have picked someone else to do the video. The girls I work with are all beautiful and would have nailed it.

The “it doesn’t matter” thought is the one that brings me down the hardest. I don’t do things because they don’t produce immediate results. One workout, on healthy eating day, doesn’t matter. One off the rails eating day doesn’t matter. They don’t. These single days didn’t matter, but the cumulative effect is what I was living with today.

A month of healthy food choices would have had me in a better place. A month of consistency at the gym would have had my body in better shape. Months of poor choices could not be covered up today. They will publish the video tonight. I’m dreading seeing it. 😒

I want to live in tomorrow-land. Everything there is so perfect and spectacular. I love Brooke Castillo’s podcast. I was in Self-Coaching Scholars, but I panicked a little about the price and ended up getting cancelling my membership. I wish I hadn’t. Now I have to wait a year to get back in. Until then, I have the materials from the months I was a member and I listen to the podcast.

She talks a lot about buffering. I buffer with food and tomorrow-land. Today, I needed to pick up. The house was stressing me out, but i didn’t have a whole lot of motivation to pick up. So without conscious thought, I’d pick up a little, then found myself in the pantry snacking, pick up a little, then pantry, and so on. When I did catch myself doing it, I felt bad about it. So I comforted myself (buffered against my discomfort) by reassuring myself that “tomorrow” I’ll do better.

The problem is tomorrow-land doesn’t exists. If it did, I wouldn’t be 70 lbs overweight, and feeling disappointed in the results that I keep getting in my life. Days become weeks, weeks become years. It’s such a shame and waste. Instead of motivating me for today, it feels hopeless and drags me down. Hopelessness leads to “comfort foods” and the cycle continues.

My today self hates my yesterday self and the choices that lead to where I’m at. It’s exhausting to be so frustrated and disenchanted with myself. So much energy is wasted wishing I could go back and do better. I need to put that energy into looking forward.

I am going to live in this-minute-land from now on. When I fall off track, I’m going to ask myself, “How can I get back on track this minute? What can I do this minute to get closer to my goals?” This-minute-land leads to a tomorrow-land full of pride and accomplishments.

Thanks for reading, I’m off to live this minute to the fullest!

I spent 5.5 hours in the emergency department (ED) for my 2.5 year old on Saturday. Three and a half of those hours were in the waiting room. We went to the pediatric urgent care first at 10:20am, and the doctor was concerned about her slightly low oxygen level and the way her lungs sounded. She told me to take her to Emergency to be evaluated there, with a potential for admission. I took her and her sisters home and arranged for someone to come watch the older girls.

We’d arrived in the ED at 12:20pm. The nurse triaged us at 1:05pm. Her oxygen was better, and the triage nurse didn’t think she sounded too bad. We were finally roomed just before 4pm. They hooked her up to a continuous oxygen monitor to make sure her level was sustaining over 90%, which it did. About 5pm, she had a chest X-ray taken. It showed diffuse pneumonia, but her vitals looked really good. The doctor confirmed that we don’t live far from the hospital and I shared that my husband is a critical care nurse and that I am a nurse as well. The doctor seemed assured by that new information and we agreed I could take her home on oral antibiotics. He said we should have a low threshold for returning to the ER, if there was any change in her condition, we should return immediately. With that, we were discharged at 6pm.

Our next adventure was to the pharmacy. Recently, our insurance decided we could no longer go to one of the major pharmacies. This was extremely frustrating because they have a 24-hour drive through in their downtown location. The new pharmacy near our house closes at 6pm, so we had to go across town to their 24hr store, which does not have a drive through option. Super un-fun to take my super sick kid in a store and wait 30 minutes for her prescriptions.

When I go to pay for the prescriptions, turns out they filled them just before closing at the store closer to my house, and billed the insurance, so I either had to pay out of pocket $45, instead of $6, or wait until morning to go to the pharmacy where they’d been filled. Starting antibiotics 12 hours later could be the difference between my kid getting better or my kid getting admitted to the hospital. I paid the $45.

My little decides she’s hungry, and I was hungry, so we grabbed fast food. Though, she didn’t eat because she fell asleep. We finally arrived home after 8pm. She’d fallen asleep and it took both my husband and I cajoling her and bribery with candy to get her to take the 2 antibiotics she’d been prescribed.

In the waiting room in the ER, and in the pharmacy, I started to get frustrated at times, but, being in healthcare, I know how fortunate I am, so instead of being impatient, I started thinking about all the things I am grateful for.

I am grateful for:

1. Family and Friends. Because when I didn’t get ahold of my MIL or my mom immediately, I could think of at least 10 people I could call to watch the older girls so I would not have to wait with 1 sick kid and two extremely bored kids.

2. Primary Care. Because I know the best place to go for the average cold is a primary care doctor (or urgent care if it’s after hours). Normally, we make an appointment and wait only minutes to be seen. Some people only access care through the ER, which is not ideal for many reasons, including hours long wait times.

3. Health Insurance. Because when it was deemed necessary for her to go to the ER, I didn’t think twice about how I would pay for it. I was able to focus on my sick child instead.

4. Financial means: Because when the co-pay for the prescriptions was much more than I’d expected, I had a card to cover the cost. We are in a ton of debt, which we are working to get out of, but we are secure in our jobs and in our ability to produce an income.

5. Doctors, Nurses, X-ray techs (etc). Because even though I know they are crazy busy, they were patient, gentle, and caring.

5. Last, but now least: Long ER waits. Because waiting a long time means my kid isn’t critical, and the kids who are critical, are getting the care they need first. Because I know that of my baby was in distress, we wouldn’t have had to wait.

I intend for this blog to be about my weight-loss journey… and this is about that. Life happens and I hadn’t planned for my day to end with fast food. Six months ago, I would have made that mean that I failed and will never succeed at losing weight. Instead, it meant nothing more than a meal that wasn’t ideal. I got right back on track Sunday and yesterday. That is a win. Finding resources that have helped me get in a better head space, is one more thing for which, I am grateful!

Welcome to “Let Herself Go.” I have this notion that I have things to say and a desire to share my journey.  It’s been on my heart for a long time, but I am afraid of what the world would think and how I will be perceived.  I started to blog over a year ago, but was insecure about it so I stopped. I have grown a lot over the last year, and I am ready to start fresh.  Thank you for taking the time to read it.

My little girl writes sweet little stories all the time.  Maybe I’m biased because I am her mom, and think she and her sisters hang the moon, but  the stories are so great.  The thing that amazes me is her confidence in the greatness of her stories. She reads them proudly to me and I soak up every word.

I’ve noticed lately, she gets a little shy smile when I tell her to read them to her daddy.  There is this little second of hesitation, and it kills me. I often wonder when and how self-confidence is lost, because all of the children are completely unconcerned with what the world thinks of them.  At what point does that change?  At what point do they start wondering if they are good enough, or if the story they wrote worth sharing? When they are 5 years old, they believe they are amazing.  It’s right there, in that moment of hesitation, before she reads the story to her dad, I see the insecurity starting.  It’s painful to watch.

He enjoys her stories and tells her so, and we let her know we can’t wait to hear what she comes up with next.  What if he made fun of the story, even jokingly so?  What if he didn’t give her the time of day to even listen?  Would she still share them with us?  What if she just stopped writing her stories?  We would lose that peak into her thoughts and imagination, and to me, that would be a profound loss.

Her latest story is about two cats who meet and fall in love, get married, raise kittens and live happily ever after.  I used to write things like she does.  She is such a romantic and has always been.  Even at three years old, watching the little mermaid, she sighed when Ariel and Eric fell in love. I was like that.  I always wanted to fall in love and live happily ever after.  My family found it amusing.  They loved to “good-heartedly” tease me about it.  They weren’t coming from a mean place, but that doesn’t make it kind.

My early life is complicated, we can get into that later, but when I talk about my mom, I am talking about my dad’s sister who raised us after he died.  I am learning to let go of wishing anything had been different, because I am who I am because of her, and the I wouldn’t trade all the good to have avoided the bad.  She’s a great person, the kind who gives up everything to take in two little kids, and there’s no way for her to have known how certain things would affect me.  I learned to laugh even when my feelings were hurt because it was worse to “not be able to take a joke”.  Inadvertently, I was taught not to acknowledge my feelings if they made others uncomfortable.  All we can do is the best we can.  I am fortunate because I know the impact “joking around” can have, so one of my top parenting goals is to preserve their self-esteem the best I can.  I love the quote:

“Parents need to fill a child’s bucket of self-esteem so high that the rest of the world can’t poke enough holes to drain it dry.”― Alvin Price

This quote, to me, is everything.  Everything I needed and wanted, but couldn’t always get. So now I strive to provide it for my girls. The thing is, actions speak volumes louder than words.  I know it is not enough for me to fill their buckets if I am constantly running around with mine empty.  If they don’t see me owning who I am and being the best version of me, I am going to fail them.  I am constantly letting myself down.  I have let myself go.  I have never been skinny or completely put together, but since having kids, I’ve given up trying.  I don’t want to grow old wishing I hadn’t “let myself go” in the hot-mess sense.  I want to “let myself go” in the sense that I live my life to the fullest and am the best me I can be for my husband, my girls, and myself.