Love, empathy, tolerance--also puppies, flowers, and laundry

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Flattery Will Get You Everywhere

It's time for the annual wailing and gnashing of teeth as I stand in front of the mirror and assess what the chocolate-laden holidays from Halloween to Easter compounded by a winter of inactivity have wrought. It's not pretty.

Self-tanner can deal with the pasty whiteness until gardening and the weekly Sunday soccer game, even with SPF 40 slathered on, supplies a little healthy color. My clothes seem a little tighter however and my selection of teacher clothes that fit seems to have shrunk. Worst of all: I. Have. No. Waist.

There will be no photos accompanying today's post.

It's time for some seriously-healthy eating. Lots of whole grains and fruits and veggies. Protein as opposed to white carbs and high fructose corn syrup. Tis time for an end to mindless snacking. Mindless snacking is my forte. I can scarf empty calories faster than a stray dog can clean up a dropped Happy Meal.

It's time to find time to exercise and build some muscle. Once I start exercising and find a routine, I enjoy it. I like challenging my muscles, lifting just five pounds more and improving my time. Once I'm in the zone, if I'm not just sore enough to need an Advil at night before I pull up the covers, then I'm just not happy.

Hopefully I'll be rubbing your noses in my success and flaunting a trimmer figure in the not-too-distant future.

I'm having a hard time getting started on a healthy lifestyle though. Other things have taken a priority. Like a fence to keep Kharma in. Like struggling to save all my favorite plants from the Strong Men With Tools (bless their hearts) that have taken over the backyard while the fence is being re-worked. Like the pile of unfinished Christmas reindeer on the sewing machine and the pile of wrinkled clothes that replaced the bedspread in the guest room (which I am pleased to report have all been ironed and hung away as of the start of the Kentucky Derby yesterday) and the pile of unfinished scrapbook paper and accessories on the other larger guest bed. I could go on, but I won't. It's too depressing.

Too many piles, too much clutter, not enough time.

Exercise is right at the bottom of the priority list and frustration is fertile ground for mindless snacking. Right now I'm feeling old and shabby and out-of-shape and a little woe-be-gone. Still life goes on.

Friday was an early release day (mercifully) as well as the school Jog-A-Thon so I dutifully put on some sporty clothes and braided my hair out of the way and cheered my kindergartners on as they puffed their way around the track. By the time we pinned on numbers, stretched and warmed up, acted as cheerleaders and brought them back into the classroom for fluids and a little rest, it was time for them to go home.

One little guy who is kinda quiet, but very cool in his Spider-Man sunglasses, stopped to tell me something on his way out. I couldn't hear him very well so I bent down closer and asked, "What was that, Marshall?"

"Mrs. P, you look pretty today," he repeated with an admiring look at my braids.

Suddenly I didn't feel so old or shabby. I didn't feel the least little bit woe-be-gone either. "Marshall," I told him, "you just made my whole day."

In fact, he might have made my whole year! He made me feel so good that I've been a bundle of energy all weekend. Several piles are no more and I feel like I've created some breathing space.

That little guy is gonna make a fabulous husband for some lucky girl someday.

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