Well Hello 2012 We've been expecting you...

As we welcome in 2012 I can’t help but reflect on what this past year brought us and what the hopes are for the New Year. 2011 was a year where we crossed the country with two little kids, two car seats, and one little Toyota Tacoma not once, not twice but three times. I drove in a snowstorm for the first time and also learned the lesson of why Jesse always packs the car for snow even if there isn’t any. We moved a total of 4 times, one of which I did alone with my tough as nails Mother, a sick baby, from Washington to Kansas, in 48 hours. My little brother got married. We lived in 4 different places, Tristan became potty trained, and Brianna grew up right in front me. But most importantly the Lemons family survived our very first deployment…a 12 monther!!!!

                 The deployment was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my entire life. I am always proud of Jesse each and every day for the job he does…but after surviving a deployment I am proud of myself. I found grey hairs, a few pounds and then some, lost my mind a million times over, and lots and lots of tears. At the end of it all I learned you find emotions you never knew existed for example, that moment when your child does something amazing like walk for the first time and you’re feeling sooo overjoyed and proud. but at the same time you feel guilty that you are experiencing it and your spouse doesn’t get to, and you want to be sooooo happy, but you’re feeling like bursting into tears too because that moment is one you want nothing more than to share with your other half. It’s like an emotional melting pot. I learned a lot about the Army.I learned that the people you meet in the Army are a special breed of  people. They understand you better more often than not than some people who’ve been in your life for years. They’ll help you move into your house just minutes after meeting you (Thanks Amanda and Bennett). They will listen to you complain about how you want to lock yourself away in your bathroom away from your kids and cry. They understand that life goes on, and time doesn’t stop so they help you carry on by inviting you over for dinner, play dates, help with your kids, take your garbage to the curb, put your garbage back…basically they don’t waste time getting to know you before being your friend…they befriend you and get to know you along the way. 2011 brought us to this little neighborhood, and they have been so awesome in making this year just a little easier. I am grateful for this year because I learned a lot about myself. I learned I can survive anything. I can do anything I put my mind to…hook up a washer and dryer, move a King size bed, drive cross country, put together furniture etc.  I also learned to appreciate my husband, our marriage and our relationship. I realized how much the little things he does really change my life. Something as simple as waking up with Brianna in the middle of the night  is one thing that I too often overlooked, was something I came to miss beyond words with him gone. I learned that saying I love you and never ending a conversation upset are two of the most important things in a marriage. I learned the value of life…it takes a deployment to make the reality of this life seem a lot more real. I knew what was involved in becoming a part of this lifestyle and up to this deployment we reaped the benefits, the adventure, the cash flow and I was handling all the challenges. This deployment I learned the tough stuff.  I found that nothing makes my skin crawl like hearing a woman complain about her hubby’s weekend work retreat being so hard, or people asking “What are you doing to keep busy?”(um carrying on…what like I just pine every day crying and eating bon bons waiting for my hubby!!) or “I bet you miss him” or “are you worried about him coming back?” or my all time favorite “ I don’t know how you do it!!” I also learned who I can and can’t rely on. You learn that everyone’s lives carry on but those who truly care will still reach out to you no matter how busy they are.  That people will disappoint you, and that fair-weather people will never change no matter how much you need them. I learned a new found and amazing respect for my parents who dropped everything for me so many times this year to just be there.

                As hard as 2011 was for me, I wouldn’t change it for the world… Jesse and I are stronger, my appreciation for this lifestyle is greater, and my adoration for the Military woman (especially all the ones I’ve been fortunate to meet) is now real. Looking forward to 2012 I can safely say we have started some goals…first and most importantly is to make memories together again… ones that Daddy can finally be a part of. I will strive to make up for lost time and kiss and hold my hubby more than argue with himJ. I will lose those pounds I found in 2011.  We will probably move again, hopefully see Jesse through Ranger School, SF Selection, and Captains’ Career course. My little boy will start preschool, I will work on finally being brave enough to start legitimately pursuing my goal of becoming a photographer. We want to learn to slow down more, turn off the TV more and just  enjoy each other’s company in appreciation that we are blessed to all be under the same roof again. To all my ladies starting this New Year still waiting for your hubbies know that you are in my prayers and there is nothing you can’t do. I promise when you’re crying to yourself or drinking your 4^th cup of coffee for the day…you will someday very soon look back at that and this and think “Damn it feels good to be a gangsta”. Ha-ha JK but you will feel like a superhero badass!! :)

P.s. THANK GOD for the new 9 month deployment plans, block leave, and SkypeJ

Screw you WED

   The harder I try to force myself to think positive, and remain optimistic… the inner pessimist in me is somehow sabotaging my days to prove to me it’s way easier to just accept that I am way better at being negative. I honestly don’t think this is possible, just my luck of the draw of course. However, my bad day today does humorously coincide with the goal I recently set to start being more positive.  I should start with the side bar, I love Halloween. I love love it! To me it’s so fun to dress up, eat candy like a mad person without any one staring at you, and it is a fun and funky way to kick off the Holidays. It’s the introduction to the Holidays. However, with Jesse gone this year I in all my cheapness thought I’d play it really low key. I didn’t want to spend a whole lot of the kids’ costumes, and I definitely didn’t want to spend anything on mine if I could avoid it. I knew that come Halloween day, with two toddlers, trick or treating with a thousand things going on around them and dangerously flirting with dinner time and bedtime time range; I’d be pushing my luck to say we’d all last all two hours allotted for trick or treating here on post.  However, with the combo of Jesse saying “it’s about having fun right? You want the kids to enjoy Halloween right? Don’t be cheap for once and just enjoy yourselves…get the costume you want and get what you need to make it fun”  and that weird guilt I have that I must make this Halloween extra awesome because it’ll somehow make the kids forget Daddy isn’t with us. So I bought the costume I wanted. I’ve wanted to dress up as a 1950s June Clever looking housewife for years now…and I ordered it online. I bought the wig, the accessories everything. I thought for once I’m spending more than I’d ever want to but I’m shutting down my cheapness and just doing it. When the first of my costume arrived today…the wig…I cringed. I half wanted to scream, and half wished I could call up my DH and say “this p.o.s wig is why I am cheap, what a waste”. But instead I looked to see if I could return it (no can do). Then started to brain storm how I could fix it …maybe hot roll it, maybe brush it out and curl it with a curling iron (I’m posting pics of what it looks like advertised and what I really got). Then I concluded the whole reason I got it was to embrace the costume, to truly look 1950s without sitting all day Monday teasing my hair , curling it and rocking rollers…but if I’m gonna do it to a wig, why not my own hair?? There’s money wasted I was reluctant to spend! This started my day on a down ward spiral.  After stepping outside I also realized I can’t just hope it’s going to be decent weather I need to prepare for the worse. B isn’t going to last all but 5 mins in her little devil leotard/tutu outfit if I don’t find something to layer under it. So I call Target…the dance leotards for B’s size that are long-sleeved are sold out. I can order online or shop around. I decided I’d go to the PX grab some tights to go under her leggings and see if I could at least find a long sleeve turtle neck black shirt…seems like an easy order. It was a no go...found tights still no top. Thinking that all was well, just try Wal-Mart or worst case scenario overnight it offline we headed to Starbucks. I should note at this point B is sitting in the cart; nothing is in the cart besides my huge ass Mom purse just sitting underneath her seat in the actual cart. B all the sudden goes exorcist style on me and starts spewing barf ...PROJECTILE!! As I comfort her through the ordeal I’m also cringing because I notice although she turned her head so as not to puke on herself, she has unintentionally managed to get all her vomit into my purse. My options laid out before me.I could grab my purse out of the line of fire, save what remains of my purse and its contents  but get puke on me, possibly her, and the cart etc. OR I can just let it be what it is. I chose the latter. So there B sat staring at me, wondering what’s next. For those of you with kiddos you know that the longer you wait to get to cleaning up puke and comforting your sick child, the more the freak out over the whole incident of having just barfed their body weight. So I got to cleaning. But I realized quickly to get her in the car, clean and warm I had to fish out the keys out of that same purse that minutes ago was her barf bag. As I reached in the bag I got nauseas too (I swear it never happens…this is something I’d expect from Jesse), but I was just so grossed out, hand just soaked in chunks…I barfed. There I was standing outside of the truck, with vomit in my purse, my hair, my hands and now more puke to wash away. I was so overwhelmed I had word vomit(no pun intended..) and just blurted “S!@# this really sucks” just as a I said that a soldier walks by and smirks and stares as he walks away and I couldn’t decide at that moment if I was mad or embarrassed more. After emptying what seems like ever half drank sippy in the truck (thank goodness the kids drink water 95% of the time) on all the barf around our truck and fishing out the essentials from my purse (before tossing it in the trash) we were headed home. I started the truck and for a brief moment had a pity party break down sitting there in the parking lot. I haven’t had too many of these this deployment (not really my style) but I did today. I just sat there for a moment and cried. Now it looks like I’ll be lucky if one or all of us don’t have the flu on Monday. We didn’t make any progress in fixing the cold weather dilemma for B’s costume, and the first time I invested money into a Halloween costumes for the family is turning out to be a total bust. So I felt sorry for myself for 5 minutes, and then realized we got a sick baby to take care of…and life goes on. But I couldn’t help but say…oh balls…sometimes being positive just sucks!

 WTF...I'd look almost as ridiculous as the pumpkin...what a hot mess this wig is!!

The pictures looks badass though...cuz Lord knows I can't do that to my hair, but I sure did want it to look like this:(!

Birthday Boy Having a Birthday Week

   As August 29^th approaches our home is filled with the chatter of a little man and his birthday wishes and Mommy’s chaotic preparation for a birthday bake a thon. Because I just can’t say no to the adorable little requests of a soon to be three year old. Not to mention to add to the chaos my folks are coming into town. This I must state right now is something I am whole heartedly ecstatic about, however I also  can’t help but feel the desperate need to clean this house in a way it hasn’t been cleaned since…exactly when Jesse was coming home on leave. Because let’s face it, a quick wipe down and a once over is good enough when it’s just you and the kiddos.  On a side note I should also say that my dear Mother won’t really care because 1. She knows how hard this is 2. She also won’t notice because the kiddos will keep her good and distracted…problem is I WILL NOTICE!!!  For some God forsaken reason whenever I have company I have to deep clean everything. Problem with that is kids don’t understand such concepts. Perfect example: I finished cleaning the whole families’ bedding from mattress to comforter, and even bedtime "snugglys"(stuffed animals etc.); that morning Tristan had his first accident since starting potty training, and Brianna….well let’s just say poop was everywhereL . This folks is why I never deep clean…it’s the two toddler curse. Same goes for the car, clean the car seats and they will inevitably puke or spill.  But on the positive note, here’s the thing I can’t get over…all this is in celebration of little man. Our little baby boy is already three years old and all I can think about is “where did all that time go??”

   It was this time around January three years ago, Jesse and I just sat there in denial that this was actually going to happen. Ready or not here comes baby I believe was our mantra at first. However, shortly after his arrival Tristan turned out to be the missing piece that we never knew was missing. He just made everything …more. I knew from day one he was going to be a challenge. That’s something I can’t deny. In utero that kid was a little Kung foo ninja…almost all night, and especially to Daddy’s voice. As an infant everything operated on his schedule, like never leaving the house practically because he refused to nurse under a blanket. One of my favorite pregnant memories of Tristan is whenever I’d spoon Jesse, and he’d say something, Tristan would literally kick Jesse as if to say “don’t forget I’m here too”.  Tristan is such a blessing to our lives, and to every life he touches.  He is a lot to handle at first, but that kid wears his heart on his sleeve.  I have so much pride in our little man I could go on and on for days. But I’ll try to keep this simple and to the point. Tristan is a kind hearted little boy who loves his sister because “she my bwest fwiend” and I have been quite possibly the happiest Mom when I watch him dote on Brianna. Watching them together, I know without a shadow of a doubt they really are going to be best friends, and he’ll always look out for her. I love that Tristan accepts everybody. Even if that means he’ll talk to a complete stranger like they are long lost family, and hug kids he’s just barely met. I love that he will try to nurse an already dead bug, because he doesn’t want it to suffer. I love the way he’s always communicated so eloquently. They said babies don’t sign early than 12 months-ish; Tristan was signing to us as early as 9 months. Problem is that kid hasn’t stopped communicating his points so well, since thenJ. To this day, I swear the kid just wants to be heard! I love that Tristan is the ying to my yang…that kid sees the world from a different angle. He has a vivid, really vivid imagination with limitless possibilities that keeps me young too. I love his curiosity that he always wants to know how things work, why things are that way etc. He is a Three year old who loves the discovery channel for that reason.  I also adore the fact he’s been a smiling, giggling, and being attention whore since the moment he realized what affect he had on his surroundings when he did so. But the thing I adore most about Tristan? These three years he has shown me parts of myself I didn’t know I had. Taught me about the world from a perspective that people too often miss out on. He has shown me a true strength, because he is my inspiration. He holds fast to his Daddy being a super hero “Awmy” guy, and that’s all he needs to get through all the challenges he’s already had to face so young. He doesn’t care how things are, because he knows they are going to always be better…somehow at so young. The average Three year old hasn’t lived in 4 different states, traveled cross country 3 times, had war “explained” to them, had to say goodbye so many times, have Daddy gone for so many things and still come out so well rounded. I can safely say that he has changed Jesse and I, made us stronger and sooo much better. Happy Birthday to our little Love bug! He truly is one of the best things to have ever happened to us.

 Welcome T 6:46 AM August 29th,2008

 Daddy's Little Man from Day One

 First Birthday

 Second Birthday

 With his love of flowers, we've always "stopped to smell the roses"

 St.Louis Zoo

 So patriotic at so young...Daddy really is his hero

 Mr. Show Stopper

 Goof ball from the begining

I love him<3<3<3<3

Motivator List

Too often you come across the Army wife who takes her plight and turns it into the next Days of Our Lives. Honestly, I will admit sometimes this job sucks. It’s not always sunshine and lollipops…but what in this life that is worth a damn really is? Anything worth having or doing is not ever easy. So here’s the deal rather than feeling sorry for myself the other day when I was having a “bad” day, I started to motivate myself by creating a mental list of the pros of deployments (if you are a civilian you are probably saying “how is there anything good about a deployment?”). I thought out of the interest of fulfilling my free time and possibly amusing fellow “Domestic engineers”, I’d share said list. So here it is in no specific order what so ever.

1.       I save a butt load of money on toiletries i.e. razors, make up, hairstyling products because I only dress up for myself,  and when I have to time too( so far I can count 5 occasions where I put on makeup while Jesse has been gone)

2.       The part of the house that can’t be seen on the webcam isn’t always clean…but as far as Jesse is concerned it’s spotless (I did just blow my cover). That’s not to say he would be bothered by it but I wonder what he thinks I do with my free time when the house isn’t clean.

3.       The kids and I can wear our PJs all day if we’d like and there’s no one that’s going to walk in and go “WTF??”

4.       I can watch any show I want. I watch the crap TV that if Jesse was sitting next to me would say “Why do you care?? Who are these ladies anyway” (Housewives of…series, Jerseylicious etc.)

5.       My delicates and camisoles stay nice because there are no uniforms in the wash

6.       Laundry demand is cut in half... see #3

7.       There are less dishes to be done

8.       Groceries aren’t needed quite as often

9.       I can cook whatever I feel like…PBJ for dinner heck yes!

10.   I can hog the covers, turn up the heat, or turn it down and there is not compromise necessary

11.   I have finally get a go at things I never would before…i.e. car, garage, yard etc.(that’s not to say I like it, but being able to see what I’m capable of is always empowering)

12.   For the time being I’m B’s Favorite(until Daddy gets on Skype then she’s back to hating MommyJ)

13.   I get to pick Scentsy smells Jesse can’t stand

14.   I wear the perfume he doesn’t like, and lip gloss with coconut flavor(he’s allergic)

15.   I don’t have alarm clocks going off

16.   I get to pick all the movies

17.   If I don’t’ leave the house, I don’t have to wear a bra all day if I don’t feel like it

18.   No whiskers in the sink, or farmer’s blow boogers on the shower wall

19.   The truck music is almost always what I want(when Tristan doesn’t request rock n’ roll)

20.   I can dress the kids in all the clothes I think are cute and don’t need a second opinion on

I love Jesse, so much sometimes it hurts.  There are so many things that suck about deployment that’s definitely a fact, that list is almost 3 times as long. But, sometimes at least for me it helps to try, really really try, to look at the glass half full. Otherwise, I think we’d all just lose it. Because if I spent my time feeling sorry for myself, crying about how lonely I get then I’d be wasting my time, that’s not going to do anything but make this time go even slower.   For now , I  look at this list when I feel like poop; like this deployment is just taking too damn long to be over, and I just can’t go another day without my best friend and I remember it’s always doable…just one day at a timeJ.

Tears in Target and All!!

My week was quite a dousy! I can say with much certainty that a deployment for however long is quite possibly the World’s Largest rollercoaster (of emotions obviously!) I was nothing short of a disoriented hot mess this past week, and I think I have cried in public this past week, more than I have in my 26 years of life. It all started on Monday when my sweet, loving husband misspoke.  I’m just saying that he misspoke because I’m still processing the denial and am still trying to accept that there may have been a little truth to his “observations”.  Long story short, the man pointed out that at 12 PM I was still sitting on the couch in a messy house, in my pjs, with kids still rocking theirs too. He hinted that perhaps I just may be allowing myself to become too lax…that perhaps the kids may need more from me too. So this was phase one of my emotional journey. I started the week a little bitter, and annoyed. Any other wives of deployed spouses find that their hubbies always have the “solution”? These brilliant methods that sound awesome in theory and “so easy” that will solve it all? ARGGH! I find that I too would probably be the best disciplining, planning etc. too if I had peace and quiet in my free time.  But here’s where I started really falling apart.

    I mailed a card to my Grandma from the kids and I for her Birthday and forgot to address the card, both return and addressee! All it had on it was The Lemons in the corner and Grandma Glenda on the front….genius. Not to mention we started the journey of potty training with Tristan. I cried when Tristan went potty for the first time in a long time because I realized how much Jesse was truly missing out on, there I was dancing and celebrating…alone. To add salt to well…tears I guess, Tristan said “My Daddy is going be sooo proud me! Can we talk Dad on TV?”  The days came and gone and I found myself  crying on Tuesday because I just lost my patience and willpower throughout the day with the kiddos…just one of those days where the Mommy in me had vacated the building and these two little monsters were taking over! I swear the kids chose the one day I am in my worst mood to be the biggest brats ha-ha, or it just seems that way because they are just mimicking my mood…either way we were struggling to get alongJ. Wednesday finally rolled around, and this meant Mom day. Although I had high hopes of a very low impact emotion day it became the opposite. I took myself to lunch and while standing in line at Panera I saw a man in uniform walk in holding hands with this adorable little girl about maybe 3…she looked at her Daddy and said “I’m so glad you came home so we could have a date”…I cried. Lame I hate crying in public, I always have but there I was trying to casually brush tears away like it was no big deal. I thought the crying was most definitely over then and there. So I went to Target and thought I’d buy a card for Jesse’s birthday. This is something I usually love to do, because I adore my husband and I love to spoil him any chance I get (I really am not making this part up…I still gush over him…most of the time). Anyways, as I’m going through the cards I come across this one that starts with “I love sitting on the couch watching movies with after the kids are in bed”… “I love holding your hand in the car going nowhere in particular”… “I love kissing you after work asking you how your day went”…and “I love watching our children play together with you on a summer afternoon”…blah blah blah. I didn’t get through the rest because there I stood in the card aisle blubbering like a little baby. This stupid Hallmark card pointed out a lot of things I adore about my husband, but it also made it very obvious all the things I’ve been going without all this deployment. Things you miss here and there on the “bad days” but otherwise you forget in the chaos of trying to keep your head above water. The worst part about crying in public AGAIN(I swear I’m really not into crying) was this almost 80 year old woman came up to me and put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Are you going to be alright dear…those Hallmark cards aren’t all that bad??” No, but my emotional state obviously is! I didn’t say that of course, I simply thanked her for her concern wiped my tears and continued shopping in emotional shameJ.

                But on the bright side the roller coaster is finally taking us up. Of course not before I eyeballed a few maternity outfits in the lounge wear section at Target. I was really debating purchasing them, until I realized wait…these are nursing snaps on the top and that’s for sure way too big of an elastic for regular pants. My inner fatass needs a good beat down!! (But seriously why would anyone NOT want stretchy everything ;)) Tristan started singing to the radio in the truck which I adore. Brianna reaches for Tristan’s hand almost every outing we go on. But the biggest “ups” this week? When I heard Tristan say to Brianna “Hold my hand sister. It’s ok I here protect you, keep you safe from Monsters” and when he kissed me during the storm the other night and said “I here protect you, and Bnana (Brianna) and keep you safe for Daddy…I be big kid so Daddy can do work”<3 My little man is sometimes braver and stronger through all this than I ever thought he’d be…and more so than myself some days. I cried that night too as I tucked him in…but not because I was a hot mess anymore(well still kind of),but because I  think we’re doing a damn good job riding this roller coaster… tears in Target and all.

Screw Tomorrow, I'm Talkin Bout Today

It seems up to this deployment or even part of it, I have been living a life of “tomorrow I will”. Tomorrow I will start eating better. Tomorrow I will start the laundry, or clean the house, run the dishwasher, clean the car etc. etc. Tomorrow I will step on the scale and I will have lost a pound. Tomorrow I will look in the mirror and embrace the way that I look post babies and will be happy with it. Tomorrow I will make that phone call, or I will stop waiting for that one that never comes. Tomorrow I will hear from that person because tomorrow they will feel bad for the way they treat me. Obviously this list of “tomorrows” can go on and on. I always set goals, always have and probably always will. I make obsessive lists of things I always want to do “tomorrow”, or over many “tomorrows” but I always find a way of running circles around them. But the beauty of these “tomorrow I wills” is this deployment has taught me that some of them aren’t important. This deployment has shown me strength in myself because I must rely on me, and up until now I never realized how much I relied on everyone else around me. I have a power within me now as cheesy and lame as that sounds. I know now what I am truly capable of, the things that should and shouldn’t matter, and what must be today and not tomorrow.

   I’ve realized that I could probably spend every day of the rest of my life trying to measure up to the standard I set in my head for myself. But I realize now that I won’t ever be a size two again, but eating fairly well, and exercising as often as I am motivated to and have time for will always be good enough. The dishes and such can wait, but loving on my kids and taking a mental time out cannot. Today I don’t care anymore about being liked, accepted, supported, or appreciated by those people who’ve neglected me and left me alone during what could possibly be the loneliest time for me. Forgoing this constant state of tomorrows has changed me in such an amazing way that as sick and twisted as it sounds makes this deployment a good thing for me. My new philosophy of “today” is why I now am making friends with amazing people in my neighborhood, why the kids and I now have a break from each other every other week, why I go to the gym because it feels good not because anything is or isn’t happening on the scale, and why I of all people have actually let my house be filthy for days at a time. Because sometimes especially without Jesse, I have to get over myself and let things just happen or not happen for that matter. But the beauty in all this is for the first time in a long time…it’s really time for me to focus on so much more than missing Jesse and counting down the months, weeks, days, hours until he’s home.

6 Months to Reality

We are officially nearing the 6 month mark of Jesse’s Deployment(seems like a little lame since that still means 6 MORE months…but it’s the small things). Unfortunately, my excitement is a little overshadowed by anxiety. Weird, I know! What kind of wife am I that I am a little more anxious than excited for my husband’s looming R and R time or return home after this deployment? However, I am not THAT wife; my anxiety comes from somewhere different. I’m nervous because all I can think about is the goals that I set for myself to reach before Jesse came back. I wanted to be the wife he fell in love with. I wanted to get back to my pre babies body and get that self esteem back. I also wanted that comfort and high energy back, and to be a better wife and mother. As the time of Jesse’s return looms closer I start to get anxious that I haven’t achieved a darn thing. I have become obsessed with numbers, pounds, calories, input and output, and I still feel like it’s not enough and too much at the same time. Why is that I have dropped 4 Dress sizes since starting this journey, and yet it’s still not enough to make me happy, or proud?? What has become of women these days that we are constantly reaching for perhaps something that is unattainable? Shouldn’t I be happy that I am eating well, I am wearing clothes I haven’t in years?…heck I put on a sweatshirt today that I haven’t worn since my honeymoon!! Granted it’s a little snug, but months ago I couldn’t even get it over my chest!! All I can think about though is the pants I have I still don’t fit in…the fact not a pound has been lost according to the scales, and the double chin and preggo looking bulge that still rear their ugly heads in my photos. How messed up is this process?

I feel lately that I will never be the size I want to be in my head. Let’s get real…I am approaching thirty at a very rapid pace, I have the schedule of a maniac, I have two kids that I am constantly running after and because of said kids there are things on my body that will NEVER be the same.  Why do I feel like I should be tiny to be satisfied? Shouldn’t we live in a society where if someone lives a healthy and active lifestyle, they shouldn’t have to be a size 2 to feel “comfortable”? I hate that I see cute clothes and feel like they just don’t “fit right” on me so I still run around in frumpy clothes I’ve had since I got pregnant with Tristan so they’re threadbare, stretched out and saggy, and probably make me look and feel worse than any new outfit would? It should be noted that my issues aren’t with my husband. He doesn’t need me to lose a single pound, but only wants me to be able to look in the mirror and see the sexy babe that he sees, at any size. It doesn’t lie with my parents…my uber supportive Mother tells me everyday I’ve come so far,  I look great and need to just focus on how my change in lifestyle has made me feel.  I guess I’m reaching this point where one thing needs to change and it’s not what I’m doing, it’s how I’m thinking. I’m writing this for people to read so if someone else is thinking like this with me they think about the big issue seriously. Perhaps the reason we feel we look so bad to others, is because we THINK we look bad to others.  I am going to try to be like those people who wear anything no matter their size because they don’t care about what people think, because they feel beautiful. I am going to start to stop focusing on this “I’m going to do this when I get to _ size”, “I like that outfit, but I’m going to get it when I drop one more size”…when will I be enough at this rate?? I am going to start today embracing the idea that I am a Mom of two beautiful children, who whether I like it or not have made changes to my body that make it so I will never look like I did in High-school.  But that is ok because my husband still adores me and the body I think is so gross. So as Jesse gets closer to getting home, I’m adapting my goal a little…I don’t need to lose _ more pounds, I need to just maintain this healthy lifestyle, reinforce my inner beauty, and just be comfortable with what does or doesn’t happen. If I continuously strive to be smaller and smaller, when will I ever be satisfied?  This is not the example I want for Brianna. I want a daughter who feels that she is gorgeous NO MATTER WHAT. I need to start setting the example for her and for me. She will never learn to embrace her own beauty if she spends her life watching her mother try and find hers. I need to start feeling sexy inside in order to be sexy outside. All I really want is for Jesse to come home to a sexy wife…and I ‘m almost positive I don’t need to be the same size as high-school or even pre baby for him to think I’m sexyJ. It’s time for me to be enough, for myself, so I can feel that I am enough for my husband and kids.