I've never been good at intros. It's hard for me to start anything. I get a fabulous idea, dwell on it endlessly while I'm supposed to be sleeping, draw up plans and blueprints, giggle about how exciting it's going to be. And then months go by, and the plans sit. The "l'll get to it"s and "not today"s get tossed around, the kids have a bad day complete with meltdowns meltups and melted crayons in the floor, and frankly I'm just lazy. But we'll go with I'm just not good at that whole starting thing.

I'm also not very good at finishing things that I do manage to start. The first couple of days I'm eating all the vegetables and exotic healthy things I can't even pronounce, my workouts are aggressive and sweaty and I feel like an amazon woman afterwards. I can do anything! But then the excuses come. And I hate to even use the word excuse because anyone with children knows it's anything but an excuse when someone's pooped on the stairs or the downstairs is flooded because your potty training toddler tried flushing an entire roll of toilet paper and a towel. Some nights I have gone to bed at 11 just to be awoken at 1 for a bottle, 2 for a nightmare about bugs, 3:30 for another bottle, and 6 for a bed wetting accident and a baby who's ready to party. And you know what? I'm tired. And that's okay. Some days I have to attempt to explain to my husband that my day consisted of 14 tantrums, 2 accidents on the couch, 3 unexpected loads of laundry, and cat puke and I'm sorry but I dont want to cook tonight I just want Taco Bell. Some days it's a physical exhaustion and some days it's mental. I would never say or even think that I don't have the best job on the planet taking care of my two children all day long (I mean who else can say they work all day in pjs coloring and eating goldfish?) but some days you find yourself trapped in a bathroom clutching a glass of wine while 15 little fingers claw underneath the door and chants of "Mom-My! Mom-My!" ring in your ears when you start to think to yourself "I need a vacation." But a stay at home mom position doesn't come with vacation or sick days. No comp time, not even a quittin' time whistle. So some times I don't have the time to be beautiful or fit or even healthy. I'm just trying to survive.

But that's where we take a turn. Because while there are plenty of those days, and that's perfectly okay, it's not okay when those days become every single day. And that's where I found myself. And that's where we begin. If you already follow my blog, or just read above, you know that I have two children aged 3 and 18 months. That basically means I've been pregnant or under the "after baby belly" weight loss program for the better part of 4 years. When I had my daughter, I hadn't gained more than the recommended 30 pounds and bounced back almost completely when Surprise! I found out I was pregnant again. Then we reached the decision that my husband would join the army and Poof! He was off to basic training and I was left to raise a one year old and be severely emotionally pregnant alone (with the help of wonderful family and friends, which i owe everything to). So I ate. And sat around. And never got out of pajamas unless it was to change into other pajamas. And dubbed Tuesday "binge night" where I ate as many cupcakes and tacos (not simultaneously) as I could. I should also mention my baby was a big one. Baby #1 was barely 6 pounds. Baby #2 weighed in at 8.1 so my normally small frame was stretched out to the max already without all the sugar. As soon as little man came into the world and I was cleared to leave at 6 weeks, my husband and I packed up to move across the country to our new duty station. I had spent my whole life in one spot; I had never even been on the west coast. And here we were leaving our whole world behind. I was scared, nervous, and depressed. So I ate more, exercised less, and basically just lumped from one seat to another. I was physically unfit, but I was also emotionally unfit. And it took a really long time. I'm not going to sugar coat it, our marriage suffered and I was afraid I was going to lose everything. My husband tried to get me out of my stupor for the better part of a year, but I had settled into a dark little cave inside my head and threw candy wrappers at anyone who came near.

And then one day I looked in the mirror. I saw the weight I had packed on that couldn't just be blamed on a baby, the breakout of an unwashed face and too much chocolate, the gross t shirt I was wearing for the third day. But more importantly, I saw the bags under sad eyes, the lack of confidence in the drooped shoulders, the loneliness. I stared at that broken shell of a really awesome woman and realized that this had to change. For all of us. I had everything in the world and I was letting them down as a mother and a wife. And dammit, I was hot once, who's to say I can't get that back? So I put on my big girl panties (the confident lacy ones, not the faded 5 year old pair I kept pulling out of the clean clothes basket) and fixed myself.

                  
 

                                            The way I was before kids. Look at those legs! Look at that tan!  


             The height of my flabby "i really don't care what my shirt looks like at this point" attempt at being in public. 

And that's what I've been doing. It's not something I've finished yet, but I'm not giving up on myself this time. I'm not shuffling it under all those ideas of a complete play kitchen out of an old entertainment center and murals on all the walls. I wanted to share this journey with everyone. Not just the physical side of getting back into shape, but also the emotional, mental journey. Because it's hard when you lose yourself. It's hard to find that tiny hand of that great version of you reaching in the dark, but she's there. You just have to open your eyes and reach out. So here goes, this is all of me. Documented from day one to day "oh my God look at me!" And it won't just stop there, because a great journey like this is never done. I want to teach anyone who may be where I stood that you can love yourself again and you can be healthy. Once your mind is healthy, your body will follow suit. Your confidence. Your self esteem. You will be a better you.

And let me tell you something. It's funny because there will always be body shamers no matter what you look like. People have said to me that I'm chunky and frumpy. But when I explained my mission with my blog, I literally had people look at me and say "you aren't fat enough". Excuse me? Who's to tell me what is an acceptable amount of fat to be ashamed of? I am and always have been 100% for love your body for what it is, and even what it is not. You have stretch marks? Curves? or flat chested? Love it. Own it. If you've pushed three babies out of that beautiful body of yours, or you are a lean, muscular dancer, you earn a badge for the way you look. But it's not about that. It's about being healthy. And not just your body, but your mind as well. It doesn't matter the number you are trying to lose, be it 2 pounds or 150, It's not about numbers at all. It's about your health. And if you don't feel healthy and confident, how can you expect to love the body God gave you? This also goes out to those struggling with eating disorders, because I was there with you at one point of my life as well. Healthy isn't about skinny or fat. Who has big boobs or the Kim Kardashian butt or who has the thigh gap. It's about feeling your best, being your best, and giving your mind and body the nutrients they need. And that doesn't just mean food.

So here's to all of us. Let's be proud to look in the mirror. Let's ditch those yoga pants (unless it's just one of those days, in which case you go get that ice cream girl and don't feel ashamed). Let's strip down all that disgust and shame and let's put on confident. Follow me as I help to give you meal plans and tip for diets, fun workouts to get you through any day, reviews on health products and DIYs for making you feel beautiful, sexy, and confident, and motivation for whatever you may be going through. Together we all can achieve. This is Day One.