Showing Up: For You and Them

 I will be the first to admit that as a mother, I am a yeller. I never wanted to be. In fact, before my oldest son was born, I always thought I would ascribe to a gentle approach to parenting with an emphasis on attachment. When I became a mother of three under the age of two in less than 15 months, I quickly realized how difficult (and sometimes impossible) that approach would be. For the first few months after my twins were born, I was simply surviving. I had a 15-month-old when I brought two newborns home from the hospital and I was barely scraping by on a few hours of sleep and cold leftovers from my son’s meal tray. When they all became toddlers (at what felt like the exact same time), I began trying to minimize the amount of time and energy I exerted on certain tasks, including mealtimes. I would make one heaping plate of food, go sit on the couch in the living room with the TV on, and spoon feed three waddling babies one-by-one, simply to avoid making a mess in my kitchen that I would inevitably have to clean up if I allowed them to feed themselves. I didn’t realize I was fostering such unhealthy eating habits and it wasn’t until just recently I realized how closely I was being watched by my children. They pick up on key phrases I say throughout the day, like “all right!” before I move onto the next task and, “Oh my god…” when feeling overwhelmed. I knew I had to get myself in check to demonstrate healthy habits I want so desperately for my children to have.

When I was a child, by the time I was in fourth grade, I weighed 208lbs. I was the height (5’7”) and weight (250lbs) of an obese adult woman in sixth grade. My weight only continued to increase until I got to my heaviest weight of 393lbs. On my birthday in 2017, I had weight loss surgery, and I had some success. I never quite hit my goal by the time I got pregnant with my oldest, but I got close. As my pregnancy progressed, my weight crept back up. I lost some after he was born in July 2019, then had twins in October 2020. The following 18 months were a blur. When I finally felt like I had gotten a handle on life as a mother of three, I focused my energy back on myself. In January 2022, I recommitted to my health and wellbeing. After nearly five years since my surgery, I finally hit my weight-loss goal. After that, I thought, “Well, now what?” It wasn’t until that moment I realized, it’s not all about the numbers. I admit I still have a relatively unhealthy relationship with my scale, but I do not pick the numbers apart nearly as much as I used to. And I’ve decided to keep going, because that’s the only obvious answer to my earlier question. I made a new arbitrary weight loss number goal for myself, but my only current focus is finishing out my training cycle for my half marathon at the end of this month (and then another one in November - because why not!). 

I don’t know when it happened - maybe sometime over the summer - I became obsessed with, or infatuated by, or addicted to running. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought of myself as a runner. But I am. And I do it for them. I love when they watch me get my gym clothes and running gear on. My oldest can tell, based on what articles of clothing I put on whether I’m “goin’ to the gym” or “goin’ for a run”. It amazes me. And every time I lace up my shoes, they all ask, “Stretch, mama?” Yes, my loves, I do want to stretch with you. “Touch your toes!” I say, and someone will reply with “Arms up to the sky!” It’s our routine. They get it. 

I can’t even begin to describe the feeling I got the first time I saw all three of my babies waiting for me at the finish line. I don’t know if they know what they’re clapping for, but I don’t think that’s the point. I think the point is that they’re simply excited and if they equate running or physical activity with excitement, then I think I have done my job. Just tonight, I was working out at our local Y and brought all three of my kids. It’s not ideal. It’s a lot of work getting a three-year-old and two two-year-olds out of the house, into the gym, out of the gym, and back into the house. But it’s worth it. I knew I had to go exercise tonight and I knew, since my husband is working late, I would have to take my kids. So we went. 

The way this particular gym is set up, the child watch area is by the back of the gym and has big glass windows from which kids can watch their parents exercise. For the most part, my kids are engaged in other activities, like coloring or playing with the ride-on toys, but every so often, I’ll see one of their little faces pop over to the window. I’ll see their little mouths form the words, “Hi Mama” and I melt. I love seeing their curiosity for what Mama is doing. I love thinking about the future and us going for runs together, or going to the gym together. I also love that little bit of self-care I get in my day between my full-time job in the prison system, my private practice clients in the evening, and doing all things “Mama.” It’s a lot. I am overwhelmed, I don’t have enough help, but I am doing it. For them.

Additionally, I am a better mother after I have worked out. It doesn’t solve all my problems or put more hours in the day, but I find that I have more patience and more energy after I’ve gotten to spend a few hours either on the bike path for a run, or in the gym. I crave it. I don’t necessarily believe anyone really wants to get up at the crack of dawn to run 8 miles, but that feeling of success afterwards makes it worth it. It’s not easy to fit everything into my day and it takes an immense amount of planning, strategy, checking calendars, and (of course) commitment, but it’s necessary. It also demonstrates to my kids I value myself, which I hope will encourage them to value themselves and feel a sense of self-worth and pride in their accomplishments. 

On top of all of that, exercise also reminds me of how far I’ve come and exactly what I’m capable of, which will help me encourage my children to perform at the best of their abilities and always strive for success. Being in shape also allows me to keep up with the daily tasks necessary to keep a house in order. At 393lbs, there is no way I would have been able to get up, get snacks, sweep the floor, climb the stairs, hand vacuum the couch, vacuum the carpet, do laundry, more laundry, and even more laundry. I would be miserable. But at my current level of fitness and ability to keep my house in order, I am proud. I find such joy in laying down at the end of the night knowing I put forth my best efforts to keep a tidy home. No, I don’t mop the floors every evening, but I do ensure I have enough energy to tidy up, so I can come downstairs to a clean environment to get my morning off to a healthy start. I like who exercise has helped me become and I like the effects it has had on all aspects of my life and I hope it trickles down to my children.

To bring this thing full circle, I’m not a diehard proponent of mindful eating (or mindful anything for that matter). I can’t get out of my own head long enough to be mindful about much, but I do think there is value in learning true hunger cues and true feelings of fullness. With the TV on as a distraction, those cues are easy to miss in little growing bodies and minds and I found that my kids were eating all of their meals and snacks in the living room in front of the TV and it felt like they were snacking all...day…long. It took a while (and it’s still a work in progress) but I am now making a concerted effort to serve all meals in the kitchen, at the table, with the TV off. It made me sad how ill-prepared they seemed to be sitting in one place while eating. They looked almost uncomfortable or confused at first, but they are getting the hang of it. I’d be lying if I said I would prefer to serve all meals like this - I wouldn’t. “The old way” is much easier. There is far less cleanup, but anything that’s worth doing and anything that is healthy is going to come with effort. And as the old adage goes: Consistency is Key.

Speaking of effort, since I don't have my plate full enough, I thought this might be the most appropriate time to announce my next big adventure - conquering a marathon. I don’t have anything set in stone, but I am putting the feelers out, seeing what’s around and what dates might line up with my schedule and, in an ideal world, I would make it a little family trip so my kids can watch Mama cross (maybe even by crawling) the finish line in 2023!