A Life of Disordered Eating

“She has become morbidly obese, but she is young so it only takes a few diet changes…”, the words of my doctor at 11 years old. I remember I wouldn’t even get into my mothers car after this was spoken in the office room. I was horrified, embarrassed, ashamed. I sat in the trunk of my mothers Ford Explorer crying, hysterically, as I pinched together my fat rolls. That was the first day I hated myself. Up until that point I was only semi aware of the weight I was, the diet I ate, and how I was portrayed. Hearing the term “morbidly obese” during an age where boys where starting to like girls, knowing everyone who saw me saw my stomach rolls, ruined a part of me I am still trying to get back.

Three years later I surrounded myself with not so nice friends. They poked fun at my weight, they made it clear I was the “DUFF” or in other terms “designated ugly fat friend”. I felt it every second of my life. I never had a boy speak to me, let alone crush on me. I was alone because truthfully I hated myself more then anyone could ever hate me. That’s where it all began, the restricting, the lies on eating, the starving to the point of no more hunger. I never let it out. Rumors swirled that I wasn’t eating, I lost all the not so nice friends I thought I had. I was loosing weight but hating myself even more then before.

I still often think about those days in my life where I would watch the saddest movies so I had a reason to cry without being questioned. I reminisce on those times who have made me who I am. I’ve become so much more aware of negative self deprecating talks and the affects on the minds around me. I hated those years, I wish I could take them away but I can’t. That’s probably a good thing though because without them I would have never grown the way I have. They’ve taught me so much on how to help my daughter in the years to come, but at the time they almost made want to end my life.

It’s funny how life keeps moving forward, and only when the years pass you see things in a new light and appreciate both good and bad.

Xoxox

Brianna

When A Mom Needs to Workout

I had so many imaginations of being a mother. I would imagine dropping the kids at the daycare in the gym and getting my workout on. I imagined date nights away from kids with a trusted babysitter for a romantic time away. I imagined perfect sleeping babies who always behaved and went to bed without a peep. But the whole gym thing- that was going to happen.. news flash: it never did.

Here I am two beautiful babies, three and a half years later and I haven’t stepped foot inside a gym in nearly four years! It sounds pathetic but it’s true. With every intention, with every ounce of my body missing a good workout I was never able to get back into a gym setting with my husbands schedule. For almost a year it really hurt my mental health to a fault. I got depressed after my daughter was born, desperate for the moments of solitude and quietness of a gym with only my music playing in my ears. I missed the glimpse of my fit pre pregnancy body. I still do miss that atmosphere. However I’ve grown to see the bigger picture, it’s not about where you go to sweat it’s the fact that you do it.

Today, you can find me working out in my living room surrounded by toys and sometimes a crying child. I am determined to make lemonade from the lemons I’ve been given.

It’s had some advantages, too. My daughter acknowledges working out as something normal and understands it’s what I need to do. She attempts the moves with me and we bond over it. Growing up obese, yes “morbidly obese” actually..(that’s a story for another time), I am so grateful for my daughter to see being healthy as something normal, not a fad diet or a need to be thin; rather healthy.

Although I still dream of my lonely isolated workouts without drool and diaper changes while trying to stop toddlers from arguing over barbies, I am so thankful I’ve found such a peace of mind in working out and being healthy in the eyes of my children..One day I will be in the gym, and I will ache for the moments I have now.

Xoxox

Brianna

Work First, Family Second

Military living is just hard. Nearly eight years and I still struggle being second in the world of my husband. “The needs of the service” is a term my husband has been using since 2012. It describes where we will live, the job my husband does, and the amount of time away from our family. Whatever the service needs is what we have to do. Sure, we get benefits… housing, insurance, stability.. but we loose so much time together. We loose out on being a family more times than we are one. My children have grown to know daddy at work more than daddy home, and as a wife I am more familiar with being a single mom than a married one. Even when my husband is home I still lack the assistance, more so because I don’t seem to need it. I am so accustomed to cooking, bathing, playing, doing all without help that when my husband is home it is more of a struggle than anything else.

I think that’s an aspect of military life a lot of civilians don’t comprehend. They assume it’s hard when the active duty member is gone, but so easy when they return. I wish it were that easy. It’s hard always. It’s hard when they’re gone, but it’s just as hard when they’re home. It’s hard to balance leaving and coming, it’s hard explaining to a three year old her dad is only home for a few days. It’s hard maintaining a schedule when your home life is unbalanced.

I am so thankful for my husband, the way he provides, how hard he works and most importantly the sacrifices he has made to keep this life for his family. I am so thankful for the US Coast Guard for providing my husband a job and us with the benefits it does. But the sacrifices are sometimes painful.

Maybe one day we will learn to balance our worlds, maybe one day my husband will be home more than away. And maybe one day I will learn to accept the needs of the service and live life more freely.

Xoxox

Brianna

Mama Llama Drama

Stay at Home “Mom-ing“

As a child I dreamed of being a mother. As a teen I dreamed of my career and accomplishments. As a young adult I dreamed of the picket fence, fantastic career, beautiful babies, loving husband, and every other imaginable perfect life scenario. So what is life like today? It’s so very good. There are times when I know it could be better and there are times where I know how much worse we could be. But if I am being honest, sometimes I feel like I don’t do enough all while knowing I need a break.

Being home all day is a way to really mess with your psyche. I clean, cook, and everything else that needs to be done but there are days where my husband sees none of that. There are days where I receive the “what did you do all day?” remarks and eye glances. There are days where I lay in bed wishing and begging for the extra few minutes of silence before the daily chaos begins. My life is so repetitive. There is nothing spectacular happening. We just go through the motions. Now, a part of me thinks that life without chaos is a good life. However, my other part thinks of life as “ground hog day” is the worst.ever.

These babies are everything to me. If there is anything I want in this world, it’s that they look back and remember those small tiny minuscule memories of how we’d eat ice cream sandwiches when daddy’s was away with work, or how we’d stay up late watching silly movies. I want my kids to know I’m always there and being a stay at home provides us that. My babies know that mommy is home. Bad day? Mommy’s home. Friends are mean outside? Mommy’s home. Don’t feel good? Mommy’s home. I also have a little teaching side job which I love (VIPKID). But it’s not truly an income anymore with an infant that hates sleep….(9 MONTHS OF AN ALL NIGHT MILK BAR!)

I spend most days a month being a single mommy while my husband goes out with his boat. When he is home I teach before any baby wakes, I try to make the little side money as I can because we all know that military members aren’t millionaires ;). I try. I just really really try to help in every way I can. And yet some days that isn’t even good enough. Some days I let my husband get in my head, what do I even do? I don’t have many friends let alone a stable career and life outside my house. Some days I sit back and wonder how I could have allowed myself to become so isolated and secluded from the world, how I have become so fearful of going back to work and pushing myself to be a better mother and wife. The years of being a stay at home mom has caused my head and heart so much ache and confusion. Is there ever a right time to go back to work?

I type this as my infant snuggles and starts to fade into his beautiful slumber… for what I hope is a few hours anyways. I type this with his body snuggled into mine and it almost grounds me. Although there are so many voices battling what is best for me and my family his breathing calms them. As for now, I am content with isolation and quietness if it means I get these moments as a mother. Sometimes I forget how fragile this life we live can be. Sometimes I forget they grow up, faster then I am ready to admit.

Xoxox

Brianna