Week two with three kids begins.
I feel like maybe I shouldn't be blogging because things are going so well. I usually only want to blog when things are falling apart and I want to process the whole situation.
Honestly, it's been far easier than I expected.
The nights are long, Simeon is only going to be three weeks on Thursday, so I gotta cut him some slack here.
A big cup of coffee and a nice hot shower help in the morning.
Afternoon naps help too. Although, it's been more challenging with a four year old who is refusing to nap. He needs to nap, but he doesn't want to nap. It's frustrating. For both of us. We're working on it.
People bringing us meals helps too.
But I'm not going to blog about all of that tonight.
I'm going to blog about body image. Please don't look at me funny, I know I had a baby three weeks ago and you can totally roll your eyes at me. I'm going to place this under the fact that I struggled for so many years with my body image and weight and food. Those old thoughts are starting to rear their ugly heads.
So, none of my clothes really fit. My maternity pants ride down because I have the full panel ones and no longer have a ginormous belly to hold them in place. I have some old, out-of-style jeans that kind of fit, but I hate them. Then I have all my other pants that don't. Let's just say that the post pregnancy body is still in recovery.
The temptation is to look in the mirror every day and think angry thoughts.
I hate that feeling of needing to lose weight. I have felt that feeling with utter hopelessness so many times before. It's a place that reminds me of those chains I struggled with for so many years.
So I was sitting down one morning to meet with the Lord. (I have to wake up at 5:30 in order to shower and then have alone time sans children until 7, thankfully they haven't woken up before 7 in a while). I was asking Him just to speak to me about whatever I needed to hear about. In the middle of reading the Word I just had this thought, I wasn't even reading about this but I feel like He just spoke into my heart. "Are you thankful for your body? Did you know that I created your body perfectly?" I started to realize, yes, I am thankful for it. I have born three children, and even been able to nurse them all. I am strong and healthy. I can play on the floor with my kids. I can clean our bathrooms, wash the dishes, do the laundry. God has given me good work to do here on earth and He has blessed me with an able body. It doesn't matter if clothes don't fit quite right sometimes, what matters is that this body serves me and my family well.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I was knit together by the God of the universe and His works are good. If I despise this body that He has given me, I am despising His artwork, His creation.
Thank You Lord. Thank You for the good work You have given me to do. Good work of picking up the laundry off the floor, making the bed, dressing little ones and changing diapers. Thank You that I can move and bend over and breathe again. Let me not be distracted from the tasks that You have for me. Let me focus on my kids and not on myself. Let me treat this body You have given me with respect and not hatred. Your works are wonderful, and my soul knows it full well.