Ah, life. Always throwing curve balls. And for someone who doesn’t deal well with change, this can be particularly challenging.
The last half of 2015 was particularly hard after my brother’s accident. But he has been back to work since December and has been doing SO good. He has pretty much said goodbye to all his doctors (except one for his nose) and they are all very impressed with how well he recovered considering what he went through. I still say he is such a miracle and I am thankful every single day that he fought his way through that horrible ordeal.
My brother and his family will soon be moving to the opposite corner of the country, to the Pacific Northwest. My sister-in-law’s family is out there. Once their house sells, they will pack up the family and head out. It is going to be such a hard day when they leave. But, despite my NOT wanting them to go, life is too short not to support them in whatever they do. So, I of course wish them the best of everything in their move and new life out there. I will miss them all terribly, but life keeps moving on even when we don’t want it to.
On a happier note, my mom is moving in with us. With her lease up the end of this month, hubby and I decided we should ask her to move in with us. She was all by herself in that house since my dad passed away almost six years ago. While she is certainly capable of living on her own, we hated that she was all by herself and went home every night to a quiet house. We have the room here and so the moving process has begun. This weekend she’ll be totally moved in and we are happy to have her. I remember probably 10 years ago, my dad asked me to help look after her should anything else happen to him. I brushed it off, not wanting to even think of things like that at the time. Ever since he passed away, it has been in the back of my mind. He would be very happy that she will no longer be alone.
Four months after turning 44, hubby just turned 44 yesterday. I told him I was happy he is 44 with me now. He never worries about age and says it’s just a number. I try to think like that but, when I see 44 the first thing I think of is that in six short years, I will be 50 years old. How is that even possible? I am still trying to figure out this whole adulting thing, how is it that I am this old? Good grief.
A change that I *need* to make is with my eating and exercise. Despite the wonderfulness of giving up soda almost 11 months ago (YAY!), I am currently eating too much and not exercising
at all as of lately (except that one time last week when I walked 3 miles with my friend Melody and hope to do the same tonight!) I seem to have this switch in my brain that gets flipped off the second I get stressed or crazy busy or anxious. I want to eat what I want and lay on the couch in the evenings all while enjoying my favorite red Moscato and thinking about how I should be outside running. If only I could burn the calories thinking about it that I would actually running. I went to the doctor this morning for a refill on my depression / anxiety meds and just about keeled over when I got on the scale. Talk about irony… Something has to give. I have never seen the scale so high in all my 44 years. I need to do something. I am hoping hubby and I can get back into a normal workout routine together like we used to. I very much enjoy working out with him – he motivates me.
Change shouldn’t be so scary. It’s not always bad, and it can be good for us. But I dread it and I’m afraid of it. Just being very open here…
I will likely use this little space of mine on the interwebs more for trying to get back to being a better, healthier, fitter me. Taking care of me is the best way for everything else to fall in place.
How do you deal with change?