Oh Sunday.

To say I’m heart broken is an understatement.

I find myself in the awkward position of not knowing what to say.

Life will go on. Just don’t tell me to smile. I’m determined to save those for my daughters. They’re the reason I refuse to be dragged down. I’ve suffered and have had to deprive them of too much.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

I can’t afford it.

We’ve all heard the saying fake it til you make it..

That’s exactly what I’m doing since I can’t afford to pay my gym membership this month.

I’ve created my own gym…

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Not pictured is my baby who’ll be used as weights and the jump rope I happened to stumble upon while doing my last load of laundry (I can’t afford detergent now either and I’ve run out of the samples I scored at the store).

Thing 1’s birthday is coming up. I’ve always been able to get her weird, crazy, silly gifts some too old for her age like the huge gum ball machine I got her when she turned 3, trips to children museums that required road trips…

I’d be lying if I said I woke up in the cheerful optimistic mood I promised on taking. Looking for the good in my situation seems like too much work today.

So again, if you don’t have to worry about what you’re going to eat next week, be thankful even if it’s not November anymore. Appreciate what you have, even if it seems small, every damn day.

The hip and the hop.

“I’ve decided we’re not going to be fat anymore,” my annoying fiancé proudly announced.

5 minutes later his idea of a healthy late night snack was 4 slices of cinnamon bread with peanut butter and bananas.

I excused myself from that madness tonight and had grilled chicken with a handful of grapes. I didn’t get to go to the Crossfit gym because my fiancé is being a dick and I’ve been neglecting my one-on-one time with Thing 1.

Yes, I refer to my two kids as Thing 1 and Thing 2.

So instead of driving an hour to Crossfit we opted to go to the gym and take hip hop which made me grind my hips in ways I didn’t think I could anymore. Afterwards, we headed off to Barnes & Noble for some well deserved hot chocolate and girly chit chat.

Maybe I’ll spice up my life by going to the gym in the morning tomorrow.

Exciting.

Good vibrations.

Power outage. Spoiled groceries. Broken laptop courtesy of Thing 1.

Just some more things I can add to a week of suck.

But let’s get one thing clear. When I write about not having money, post pictures of red and yellow notices, mention things and places I can’t afford I don’t do it with the desire to create some sort of online pity party. I complain because I want people who have enough or extra to take a deep breath and be thankful for not having to pick up pennies out of necessity.

There are people who are in worst situations than I am and I’m thankful for every day I’m alive and given another chance to make the best out of what I have. My two beautiful children, a fiancé who looks the other way when I don’t have the energy to shave my legs for weeks, and the most supportive parents a girl could ask for.

Life is hard, even for people who might have it all.

I found myself staring at all my new white hair a couple of days ago and wondering how much time I’ve wasted being bitter these last 2 years. Enough.

Enough.

I will still have a bad ass attitude, sass for days, and add two snaps and a twist when I feel the need no matter what but the bitterness?

Tossing that heavy, stale, unnecessary baggage out of my life.

I’m fully committing myself to being happy, healthy and fit.

Crossfit for the first time ever tonight, Paleo 4EVA, and the possibility of my fiancé finally getting a job! I’m crying sweet salty tears of joy, hope really is a beautiful thing to have. Never ever give up.

Laugh, love, appreciate.

Sunday confessions.

This edition of Sunday confessions will be served with a side of bitter thoughts and stale ass attitude.

My eating habits were HORRIBLE. So horrible that I had to use caps lock.

I didn’t go to the gym at all this week. Didn’t even bother to go for any walks or do any exercise at home.

I ate a banana at Walmart and didn’t pay for it. I didn’t have the money and I was starving (I plan on buying an extra banana next time and just leaving it).

I hated my fiancé about 10 times this week and fantasized about smashing his phone over his huge head.

I did something that maybe wasn’t very nice.

I rolled my eyes again at my friend’s pictures and wished they were in my position for a second.

I also wished I had made better choices.

I said I would post pictures tomorrow and I will but I’m fatter than ever. Like I mentioned in my previous post I’m an emotional eater and right now I’m just eating to forget.

I’m not even hungry but there I am just staring aimlessly into the fridge, grabbing junk, and stuffing my face. It’s like I don’t care anymore but I do.

I swear I want this lifestyle change. I want to be fit and healthy. I want to be able to have self-control, will power… How is it that even after hitting rock bottom on so many levels I still can’t say enough?

I keep saying and promising that tomorrow will be better, this week will be better, hoping that something will happen…

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Georgia.

This post isn’t about Paleo or fitness, my disheveled looks, or terrorizing kids.

This is about love. The beautiful beginning and inescapable end.

My father is a cheater. My mother is a forgiver.

I promised myself and my little universe that I would never cheat. What do you do when cheating is not an option? What do you do when after trying and trying to talk and work through things you’re constantly shut down or labeled as 5150?

How are you expected to try your best when you’re not taken seriously to begin with?

How do you survive living day after day feeling like an underpaid nanny?

What do you do when you can’t keep Georgia off your mind?

Surrounded by the sick.

The main problem with hanging out with younger girls is their selfishness.

They not only want all the attention, they demand it. They have no respect for your feelings and to hell with compromise.

I was up with two chicks all night and the party hasn’t stopped. Between one yelling for me every 2 minutes and the other one demanding shots of breast milk every 2 hours my sanity decided to jump ship around 1 this morning.

With all the madness around my house this morning and with the two sicklies playing tether ball with my nerves I just had to have toast for breakfast. It was the only thing I had time for. I topped it off with almond butter and a drizzle of honey so there you have it. I also added 1/2 a tsp of sugar to my coffee which gives me the sads because I was thisclose to just going black.

I feel great though. Great? Yeah, I said it. Even with all my ups and downs (the occasional chocolate binge) I’m so thankful for giving Paleo a chance. I haven’t eaten this clean and healthy for years and damn did all those bad food choices sneak up on me and hit me hard.

You’re a dirty player junk food. I demand a rematch.

But bread aside I already feel like I’m on team Charlie Sheen just by not stuffing my face with a chocolate bar this morning. That’s right, even covered in puke and poop this lady right here is winning!

My 5 minute dream of becoming a literary genius is over now though…

Back to that mama grind.