Confessions....

There are very few things in this world that I will admit to being a total failure at.... one of them is math... but that isn't my point right now. I work really really hard to make sure that I am the best version I can possibly be. I work really hard at work to prove myself (and I think it will pay off one day). I work my ass off around my house to prove to my parents that I can do it on my own and that supporting me and my daughter while I finished college wasn't a totally lost investment. I even try (sometimes maybe too hard) to be a good parent. I also like to think that I'm a healthy person with an active lifestyle.

Truth is.... none of this is true....

Yes I work really really hard at work and at home, but when you're chasing your tail you never really get anywhere. No matter how fast you run.

I work hard at my job at the expense of my time at home and with my daughter. Yet when I do try to take the time to spend a day with her, she really knows how to rip my heart out unintentionally.

Back to the beginning.

So let start this "confessional" with the whole reason I started this blog.... I hate to admit it, but I'm an emotional eater. Over the last 3 days I have been stressed and depressed as well as happy and ecstatic. During the highs, I do great! I can say no to that cookie and yes to an apple. But during the lows, I seek the easy and unhealthy food as some form of comfort. I'm eating a poptart as we speak!... I am in no way proud of this, but depression can really screw you up. It is a force much stronger than my will power and had me on my back all of this evening laying on the couch. And now, this horrible force has pretty much landed me back to where I was at the beginning of this challenge. This is an estimation, of course, because I never bothered to take my measurements or weigh myself this morning (I was worried it would make me too depressed). Speaking of depression, I'm much better off when I have my dog. Maybe I should take her to have her trained and certified as an emotional support animal and then I could bring her everywhere!

Confession number 2:

I'm not a good parent. Or at least not to my standards.

I spend the day today trying to have a good mommy/daughter day with Ciara, while still getting at least some stuff done around the house. We got home this morning and then I cut the grass while she played in the yard. Then we went to the store and got her a new bike helmet and a pump for the tires. Then we walked... well she rode... up and down the street for an hour or so. We had a dinner date, just the two of us, and then came home and snuggled on the couch ans watched a movie. 

I don't know if it was pure exhaustion or just childish defiance, but when bathtime came around there  were tears galore and arguements ensued. She then proceeded to tell me that she missed Mumma (my mom). I know, I'm probably reading it the wrong way, but it just sounded like "you tried to have a good day with me and totally failed miserably. I would rather spend my time with Mumma".

I was just heartbroken.

This fight I'm in is never ending, but some days are worse than others. I'll make it work...