Some thoughts on New Year’s Resolutions…
I hate them, because I suck at them. Thus, I rarely do them. I’ve tried the “pick a word to focus your new year” and the “I’m going to run at least a mile every day in the new year.” Umm, please. Can we not?
But of course this year, I find myself needing to make some kind of change in the new year, mainly for fear if I don’t, I’ll lose my mind. And to be fair, I think if I would’ve hit this point at any other time of the year, I’d make the same resolution. So, in order for me to succeed, I won’t call it a new year’s resolution. Just a resolution. To start practicing what I preach – self-care.
Seriously, why is it always the hardest to take your own advice? I know deep, deep down that when I’m exercising and eating healthy, plus getting enough sleep, I’m my best self. Pregnancy has ruined this for me.
I’ll blame the constant fatigue of baby-growing for the cycle I’m in. I’m so tired by the end of the day that I park myself on the couch as soon as humanly possible. Then, I get lost in the wonderful world of Netflix (currently, I’m watching the entire Gilmore Girls series for the first time and LOVING it), and before you know it, I’ve forgotten how tired I am, and one episode turns to 3 and my 9 p.m. bedtime is now 10.
So it’s no wonder that I can’t get up and work out — I can barely get up! I thought I was going to be the buff pregnant chick. Seriously. I thought this. I made a workout plan. I printed it out. And then I hit snooze until I finally decided that Josie could be my alarm clock.
And don’t get me started on eating healthy. I’m eating like a regular pregnant chick. The kind that knows she’s gaining 30+ pounds anyway, so what’s a few more pieces of fudge or my current cravings – milk shakes. Ice cream. Fruity Pebbles. Toaster Strudels. Just reading the list sounds gross to me. I never shop or eat like this, but because I have this “excuse” I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth. Never mind the fact that my back fat is growing at an alarming rate. I’m surprised it’s not as big as my bump at this point.
So where does this leave me?
Making a resolution. (Eye roll)
So if you’re in a boat similar to mine (soon-to-be capsizing or not) and are on the resolution bandwagon for 2017…
Here’s my advice. (And yes, I’m talking to myself).
Take a Position: Choose your resolution. Mine is not a firm plan, but a renewed focus on self-care. Giving myself grace when I fail, and a swift kick in my expanding butt if needed. Also, tell someone else, so you’re not all alone in the kicking of the butt.
Stand Firm: Don’t say, “I’m going to lose 50 pounds this year” and then go eat a dozen donuts. I’ll stand firm in my position of self-care, and continue to make tiny steps toward this goal.
Look for the Results: If you’re really standing firm, you’ll see some changes. Some so small, you may have to actually look hard for them. But believe you me, it’s ok to celebrate even the minutest of positive changes. I live with a toddler and we celebrate every tiny thing she does (if you’ve ever been through potty training, you know this is true). I’ll celebrate every night I’m in bed before 9. I’ll rejoice that my grocery bill is $50 higher because I’m buying fresh fruits and vegetables instead of 3 tubes of cinnamon rolls (true story). And although I doubt I’ll see a reduction in back fat, I’ll feel better knowing that with self-care, my back fat will someday go on its merry way. If not, my 2018 resolution practically writes itself.
So, Happy New Year’s Eve, my friends! I’ll be enjoying one last total pig out and late night, milkshakes and all…