than a wolfpack win over the tar heels.
leaving work early + picking up rhyan from his dad’s.
driving to burgaw + spending the weekend with dad & bobbi.
doing nothing more than relaxing, drinking + eating …
all my favorite things with [almost all of] my favorite peeps.
lowe’s [home improvement] has become my new favorite store.
am i the only one who thinks skinny feels better than food?
i sacrifice the deliciously fattening foods i love [so much] in exchange for my clothes fitting right, having energy, and feeling good about myself.
healthy food + feeling skinny > junk food + feeling fat
it’s just so worth it.
[edit: don’t get me wrong. i eat the foods i love, but not every day. i live by the 80/20 rule, eat healthy 80% of the time & eat what i want 20% of the time. it’s all about balance, and certainly all about moderation. the point of my post is if i did what i wanted, i’d be eating foods i shouldn’t eat all.the.time, and with my body type i’d be as big as a house — despite the face that i exercise regularly.]
rhyan’s going through a phase where he’s been really disrespectful whenever he comes home from his dad’s house.
they’ve always allowed him to do whatever he wants, act however he wants, and get away with whatever he wants. so when he comes home, he spews his hateful attitude towards me and last night i hit my breaking point.
i hadn’t seen him since thursday for various reasons, so i was super excited to see him after work. i skipped the gym, grabbed a redbox movie, and had dinner all planned out. when we got home i showed him all the changes i had made around the house since he’d been gone — the flowers i had planted, the hard work i put into the yard … all to have him shrug and say nothing.
he made snarky comments while i made dinner. i’ve always voiced the fact that he may get away talking to his dad/grandparents that way when he’s over there, but not in my house. he just kept on and on. normally he’ll get himself in check once he realizes he’s back home with me, but last night he wouldn’t stop.
after dinner i walked into the kitchen and was this close to calling his dad and telling him to come get him. this close to telling him that i didn’t want him there with me if he was going to treat me that way. this close to telling him to go to his dad’s and don’t come back until he could appreciate the time we have together and treat me with respect.
but i didn’t. i tucked my tail and was quiet for the remainder of the night. we watched a movie. i told him i was tired and going to bed. tucked him in and kissed him goodnight, he didn’t ask me to lay with him and talk like we normally do. i went to my room and crawled into bed with a heavy heart.
so sad that i could even think of not wanting to be around my own son, the kid i love with my entire being. so sad that he gets away with this behavior at his dad’s and it spills into our time together. so sad that i’m this tired of correcting his attitude every time he comes home. so sad that i’d rather him just not be around him than have him treat me this way.
this is parenting. this is a part of motherhood. it’s hard sometimes.
really fucking hard.