The truth

Gosh, is it ever hard to face the truth. Hard to come here and post. Hard to go to 3FC and post too. When I'm not on my game, I retreat into "eat mode". I feel like I am ON HOLD. I feel like I NEED this gym membership and the three committed days that preschool for my kids is giving me, in order to succeed. But that is such a MASK. Because the reality is, is that I could, if I really wanted to, stop shovelling chocolate chips in my mouth. I could also workout *in some way* even though I am not yet at the gym. Even though I do not have 3 committed mornings a week without my children. *yes* it will be easier once that time is carved out. But it is one excuse after-another. It sucks. I am determined to make a plan, set out realistic goals and stick to them.

In the meantime, discussing ensues with the DH. More talking, more bull*hit, more thinking, more planning. I am a pansy-*ss when it comes to taking a stand. I feel often paralyzed by the "no's" of my DH. His lack of commitment to himself, his business, & our future together. I am a huge part of this problem, as it's really easy to make this about him and not about me too. I need to take more charge, spend more time and learn more about what we spend, how we spend it.

But my weight is a big part of my sit-around attitude. I wonder how much my kids will remember me sitting around on my computer and doing nothing. Lyn wrote a post about this a few days ago, and it struck a cord with me. What's so funny, is that I think because I don't sit around and watch TV in front of my kids, that I am sheltering them - because those mom's are "bad" - you know the kind, watching Oprah and soap operas etc. But the truth is, so is surfing the web. Either way, my kids might end up thinking surfing the web is more important than they are. DH mentioned again to me tonight - he said, stop living in the past, and checking email that's not there. He is so true, it's not funny. I wish we could tape our chit-chat and get an honest professional opinion about how dysfunctional we are.

Ugh. rant over. Tomorrow is another day. I wish I could channel this pent up frustration into running or working out, but it's 11pm, and with my mind running like this, tomorrow's going to be another sleep-deprived day.