To Laugh or Not to Laugh

Random cute pictures from Dozer Days to draw you in:

I have received inquiries as to why I haven't written in a long time. My wonderful mother-in-law checked in to make sure I hadn't gotten all perfect. Mwahaha, I said! My answer: I haven't found anything funny. Oh how sad that is! It's not that life has to be a barrel of monkeys at all times, but laughter is something that I think is necessary for the survival of our spirits, and I pride myself on having a lot of smiles and laughter sprinkled throughout my life.

Mas has been his own version of a nightmare, and it's made me sad. As I said to a friend, "this is a hard time for us." I won't go into details of toileting (which has contributed to the stress), but we are making yet more modifications in hopes of a peaceful home, and they seem to be working finally. Hope re-entered our home.

So I am here today because I finally found something funny, and I want to reiterate one of my previous lessons o' life. Let me start with what I found funny:

I was doing a plank today, and I looked down toward my chest. My shirt was falling loose, so I could see all the way to my feet. Trust me when I say that I wouldn't show anyone the sight I saw--not even Superhubby! Oy! I'm all good with the postpartum belly, and I'm working on getting healthy and dropping weight to be at my healthiest, but seriously . . .

So my belly is hanging down, and it's LOPSIDED! I must admit I had some clue, as both pregnancies have moved my belly button off-center, but it was funny. And then it got funnier (or some may view it as sadder). I naively thought, "What does it look like when the shirt isn't shading it?" OY!!!!!!! This is when I laughed out loud. I'm tempted to take a picture, but, as I stated previously, that would create the sore eyes that other sights are made for. Suffice it to say that it's all things stretchmark, lopsided, fatty, and misc.

But I laughed . . . and I thought to write about it . . . and I'm taking it all in stride. I'm really not feeling bad about my body; rather, I am feeling really proud of myself for being proactive. And this leads me to the lesson. I--and we--have to grab up the accomplishments where I can get them. I've been doing something physical every day, even if it's just running up and down the stairs 20 times and doing 2 planks. (That was tonight's workout). I'm cutting calories while eating tasty, healthy things. I still love my kids. And I still tell them that every day. Even when #1 is making me batty, even when #2 wakes up the second #1 goes to sleep. I have successfully dismantled the floating island of trash laundry. Even in the darkest of times, I've read to the little ones and sung to them and kissed them.

So if you ate well today, moved a little more, laughed, said something nice to someone, recovered from a crying spell, didn't say a bad word, folded a shirt, paid a bill . . . pat yourself on the back. There are many miles to go on the road to wannabe perfection (or at least sanity and serenity), but today I am celebrating reaching that little 1.0 mile mark sign that you see on a million-mile hike.

And now . . . pictorial representation of my life. Sister joked that this is how I wish my life were:

And this is how my life actually is: