I am officially at the lowest weight I have been since starting this “overhaul.”  I cannot really see a difference, I doubt anyone else can either.  I should have lost a lot more chub by now.  I can list a variety of excuses…(a full-time job, 2 kids, increased cyst pain, focusing on losing my hair, laziness, life) however, the truth of the matter is, I just need to try harder.

My adoring husband’s attempt at not making me feel like a total slacker, went something like this, “Well at least you didn’t gain any weight.”  Umm, thanks hon!

But I guess he’s right.  I don’t consider myself successful, but I also don’t see the past year as a total failure.

OK, now that I have addressed the weight loss progress/lack of progress, I’d like to discuss something else.  I hate the summer.  I hate the sun.  I hate the heat. I hate the humidity.  I hate sweat.  I hate the much-needed sunblock. On the other hand, my kids love being outside, swimming in the pool, running around, being kids.

  I realized a few mornings ago that I have developed some type of anxiety about going outside.  This cannot be normal or healthy.  Is this the beginning of an agoraphobia diagnosis?  I don’t think so.  I just think that I am stuck in some type of messed up rut.  I can go outside without having a panic attack, but I certainly have to psyche myself up for it.  Ever since I was younger, the heat screwed with my internal systems…I’d get headaches, my tummy would toss and turn until I finally got sick, my skin turns apple red within seconds, and so on.  I think facing those lovely side effects with two kids is what’s causing my anxiety.  I am making myself deal with this new-found psychological dilemma, so my kids can have a normal childhood.  I may have given them life, but they are saving mine.

My soon-to-be 6 year old son is slowly driving my husband and myself to the brink. He wanted to learn karate. We took him to karate 2 nights a week for about a year and a half. He liked it, he hated it, he refused to go, he willingly jumped in the truck some nights with a huge smile. Then he wanted to quit. We were hesitant, but baseball was starting and he mentioned wanting to play. So, sayonara Sensei and hello little league. (By the way, he was quite good at karate.)

First time up at bat and my little slugger walloped the ball. He ran around the bases with this huge smile on his face. He liked it, he hated it, he refused to go, he willingly jumped in the truck some days with a huge smile on his face. Then he wanted to quit. We didn’t let him. He was good, and baseball is a quick season.

Then he begged to play football. Our city doesn’t have a pop warner league, so we had to sign him up in another town. He loved it until he had to wear a helmet and pads. My son has a big head, so the helmet was quite large. He’s also a “sturdy little fella” so his pads were big in some areas to accommodate room in other places. I should also add that pop warner thinks it’s absolutely necessary and acceptable to run mini camps for 5 yearold kids. My son went to football in the dead of August almost every week night for hours at a time. That’s not fun. That’s no way to introduce a sport to a fun-loving little boy. The battles to go to practices and games became epic. My son would cry and yell and make himself sick. My husband would plead, yell, and make himself sick. I would scream and cry and wonder how to fix everything. We finally decided that before we completely ruin football for him, ( by the way, this kid was made to play football) we would let him ‘quit.’ We had him speak with his coach and explain why he wouldn’t be back. It went against everything we wanted to for him, but the poor little guy was miserable. (Plus, the main coach was a wicked tool, and when my husband attempted to help coach, my son saw it as way to further complain. It was not a very positive experience.)

However, we didn’t want him sitting at home watching T.V. all day. We signed him up for fall ball, because he asked if he could. This time around, there were definitely more smiles than tears. His coach was awesome and he finished the very short season happy.

Then winter hit….he wanted to learn to ski. We are lucky to live about 3 minutes from a cute little mountain known for teaching kids how to ski. We signed him up. His first time out, he came down the hill and turned all on his own. The instructor was stunned. He did great. The last two lessons began with his “I don’t want to go tantrums.” But, he did complete his scheduled lessons.

Of course, he has always stated that he wants to be a hockey player when he grows up! I think we’ll put skating off until next year, since I’m not sure how much more our hearts and patience can take.

So, how much is too much pushing? Is it a “waste of money,” when you’re trying to help your son find what he loves to do? If he’s going to be really good, shouldn’t he have started at (insert whatever sport here) already? How do you learn to force your own wants and dreams for your child aside, so they can choose for themselves?

I love watching him have fun, but why does it always turn to “not fun” so damn quickly? Why does he never feel like he’s “good enough?” Where did his confidence go, who stole it? We have always fostered it and supported him. My mom told me that I learned to read in kindergarten because “I needed to.” She also told me that I came home one day and was sad because my dinosaur didn’t look as good as the teacher’s. I locked myself in my room and perfected my drawing until my dinosaur was better than the teacher’s. I don’t want my son to give up just because he’s initially not “good’ at something,but I also don’t want him to be a neurotic perfectionist either.

PARENTING is HARD!!!!!!

I know that he’ll find what he loves, and I’ll be his biggest fan, as always!

and currently, I think he wants to be a DJ, who can play the guitar, and has a severe slap shot!