Love Yourself (or: Where I Get Painfully Honest)

For a few months now, I have really been struggling. It's hard to be open and honest with other people when you feel yourself in a dark place. Once I was able to admit that I wasn't doing well, things began to improve. I found support in friends, and sought out professional help. Turns out that a combination of postpartum depression and seasonal affective disorder is a recipe for a really terrible winter. Add to that the demands of a new baby and a two year old and you've got yourself a really big mess. Needless to say, it's been a difficult period for me. I haven't felt like myself at all, and I've kind of spiralled downward. I felt like I hit rock bottom two weeks ago, and from that point have been doing a lot of self reflection in effort to figure out how to find myself again.

This is all very emo, I know. But it's been an emotional time for me. I haven't liked myself for a while. Actually, I've hated myself. I don't mean I've hated the way I look, or I've hated how I feel. I mean... I've hated me. I got to the point where I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. I didn't want to be me anymore. I started eating. A lot. Really bad foods, too. Things that would make my stomach hurt. I would make healthy food for Monkey Moo, cook healthy dinners for us as a family, but then at night, or when I was alone, I'd eat terribly! I felt terrible, but I also felt like I wanted to punish myself. I hated myself, so I didn't feel I deserved to treat myself better.

A couple days ago, I'd decided enough was enough. I looked in the mirror, got all up close and personal with ME, and said, "I will love you again". That was the beginning for me. Yesterday I ate something I am allergic to and felt sick all afternoon. I realized then that I am doing myself a great disservice by treating my body so poorly. I deserve better than that. I deserve to love myself. So, I decided this morning that I'm done hating myself, I want to be healthy because I deserve it. Not because I want my kids to have a good example, not because I want to look good, but because I deserve to be healthy. My husband and children are definitely important, and I love them with all my heart, but loving them while not loving myself wasn't making me want to change. This morning I chose to love myself enough to change how I am living (i.e: not living, just slowly dying, really).

Healthy doesn't mean a fad diet. It doesn't mean counting calories and watching the scale. It means feeding my body things that will enrich my life, make me feel good, give me energy and health. It means positive thinking and lots of prayer and meditation. It means weeding out the bad foods, the negative thinking, the people and things that poison my life. Healthy isn't just about numbers in weight, calories and clothing sizes. Yes, those things can be an indication of my own personal health, but it's about way way more than that. It's about laughing and running around with my kids instead of crying and sitting on the couch all day. It's about loving my husband fully, instead of withdrawing because I feel undeserving of love. It's about being gentle with myself and knowing I may have bad days, but pushing on and not letting bad days pull me back down into this pit I've just started climbing out of. It's about praying and singing and being in love with God and my faith again. Healthy is about so much more than food and exercise.

I do apologize for the length of this blog post. The content is important to me, and to my story. It's just starting to get good.

When I look at that picture of me and Baby Bear, I want to see someone I love. And for the first time in a long time, I do. I love that woman. Here comes Springtime, and symbolically, a newness in me as a person. I'm ready for spring (seriously, I am SO over winter weather!), but really, I'm ready to pull myself up and out of this hole I tried burying myself in. I deserve better.

Starting Again

My sweet little two year old boy has been sick this week. We had our final visit with his daycare centre on Friday, and he was supposed to have his first day on Monday. However, he got sick on Sunday, so he missed his first day. It's been a challenge to take care of a sick toddler and a 3 month old while trying to keep everyone else healthy.

I've slacked on my heathy living goals, the house is a disaster and I haven't worn real clothes in two days. But we're surviving!

Today, however, the Monkey is feeling a lot better, so I'm putting real pants on and we're going to run errands. Mainly because I need to get out of the house, but thinks do need to be done. Monkey will have his first day of daycare on Friday, and I'll spend the day cleaning the house from top to bottom. Or napping. Either or.

I had intended to spend Monday writing blog posts and bringing you lots of new family oriented content (including two kid friendly recipes!), but life had other plans. So, we move on and we re-write the week's schedule and hope next week is better.

Until then, keep well.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Bad Days

We all have bad days. It happens. Some of us wake up in a bad mood, some of us are hit with challenge after challenge. Whatever the reason, bad days happen. I've learned that I can either lie down and let the bad day take over me, or I can change my attitude and try to turn the day around.

As a parent, I find that we have many bad moments, but that if I can force myself to get through them, I can still have a good day. Admittedly, there are days where I do lie down and let those bad moments turn into a bad mood and, inevitably, a bad day. I try not to, though, since I've got a little toddler who needs me to be in a good mood, and needs me to lead by example and show him how to overcome his bad moods. He's learning how to express his emotions, and unfortunately, he's not very good at it yet. Someone once told me that toddlers won't let go of themselves and let their guard down unless they are with someone they trust will love them no matter what. Someone they trust fully and completely. So when my toddler lets out all of his craziness, screaming and crying and thrashing on the floor, and when he does this only around me I try to remind myself that he loves me and trusts me enough to let his guard down. He's not perfect for Nana because she's better than me, he's not better behaved for daddy because he's a better parent than I am. It's because he knows mommy loves him unconditionally.

Often, my almost two year old is the source of my bad moods, and usually, his tantrums are the source of our bad moments. I love him endlessly, but boy that kid knows how to push me to the edge of sanity!

This morning we had a very very bad moment. We've been slowly heading into the land of terrible twos for a little while now, but the closer we get to two, the worse it gets. This morning we cheerfully made our way to the breakfast table. I've been working hard with Ty on manners and proper table behaviour, so when he started throwing his cereal on the floor, I put a stop to it. Commence epic tantrum. This was the worst tantrum he's ever had. I sent him to his room (mostly because his baby brother was in the room and I didn't want him to hurt the baby), and he proceeded to thrash around, screaming and crying so hard he was doing that shuddering breath thing. He was banging his head against the floor and wall so hard that he has a bruise and small bump. I am proud to say that, while holding him down so he wouldn't give himself (or me) a concussion, and trying desperately to calm him down, I managed to keep my cool. As soon as I got him calmed down, we hugged and he went back to breakfast (which he DIDN'T throw on the floor, hooray!), I went to my bedroom and cried. I blame hormones, mostly, but I think it was just a very trying moment for me as a mommy.

The best part is, despite the really bad start to the day, I got both kids dressed and out the door and we went outside to take advantage of the fact that for the first time all week, it wasn't raining!

Finding My Niche

Here I am, again, in the wonderful world of blogging. I've done this before, rather unsuccessfully, never really finding an area of my life that is worthy of regular blogging. I am multi-faceted, like anyone else, and my life is made up of bits and pieces. There is one part of me that dominates the rest, though. My mommy side. I'm not "just" a mom, but I am proudly a mom, and mostly a mom. All my life I've searched for something I am good at, something I love to do. I found it the day my oldest son was born. I often feel inadequate, but I suppose deep down I know I am a good mom. And there is nothing on earth I love more than spending my days with my boys.
As you do, with the first post in a new blog, a bit of an introduction. I'll keep it brief and as uncomplicated as I can. I'm Shauna. My husband is Doug. I thought about being creative and giving us all clever faux names, but I'm not that brilliant, especially not in my sleep deprived state. My boys are Ty and Nate. Ty is going to be two at the end of this month and is constantly proving to us that toddlers are weird and gross creatures, and that the capacity to learn things at this stage of development is amazing. Nate was born a little more than three weeks ago, on Canadian Thanksgiving. So far, we're having a pretty smooth newborn stage. Nate sleeps sometimes, eats a lot, and makes cute little baby noises. We're a pretty average family, i suppose. Catholic Canadians with a dog and a cat in a modest apartment. It's nothing fancy, but we like our crazy life, and feel incredibly blessed.
I hope you'll stick around. There's lots of fun brewing in the belly of this blog!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad