I had a couple of blog posts from my "other" blog that I wanted to pull over and share. This one originally published on 21 June 2010. It's a good reminder that, when working toward a goal, there will always be something that gets in your way.
I started this week strong. I was super proud of last week's 3.5 lb weight loss and all the hard work I did on the treadmill. I had big plans for this week and high hopes for a great weight loss.
My husband came home with bad news about our upcoming move. We won't be able to leave in the time frame we want; as a matter of fact, it looks like we're stuck over here for a couple months longer. We probably won't be heading out until October.
On Thursday I snapped out of it and became determined to turn it around. Impressive, right?
Thursday afternoon my three-year-old spiked a 103.6 fever. Out of no-freakin'-where. Various fever reducing medicines were barely keeping it in check but we weathered out the night. The determination was that we would make Zander an appointment in the morning and save everyone a trip to the ER. Friday morning dawned and he had no fever to speak of. Nada. Played like normal. Great appetite. Life is grand...So I didn't make the appointment.
Late afternoon rolls around and Zander staggers up to me. We'd had friends over with their kids (told you: Stupid girl) and they had left about 30 minutes beforehand.
"Momma? I don't feel vewy good."
You guessed it, temperature is back. With a vengeance. Zander got more and more pitiful in what seemed a small amount of time. At one point he looked up at me from underneath the cold washcloth on his forehead and said, "Momma, please fix me." Within about 30 seconds I was on the phone with my husband to let him know I was on the way to the emergency room.
The verdict? Scarlet Fever.
We had a run of strep throat in the house about a month ago and he didn't get diagnosed. He never complained about a sore throat. He never ran a fever until this past week. But he was a sick little boy regardless. He's fine now. They gave him a mega-shot in his booty and it seems to have swung his immune system into high gear. No more fevers. Woo-hoo! I'm ever-so-grateful for modern medicine.
Now for the weight loss correlative.
This week I learned that I must keep myself accountable on the days when I just don't feel like it. The "I don't feel like" statements can really turn around and bite me in the butt. I don't feel like cooking so I'm going to pick something up. I don't feel like exercising so I'm going to push it off for tomorrow.
Picking up Subway (or something similar) probably isn't the end of the world, but I know that I tend to follow that up with a trip to Taco Bell (or something similar). It's not long before we're eating out more than we're dining in. And on the exercise front--well, this week reaffirms to me that I can't give myself an "I don't feel like it" pass; there will be days when I can't work out. Igave away two days to work out this week. I can't fault myself for the two days that I spent with my sick kid but those other two days? Those are on me.