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A Mother of a 1 Year Old

Today is Georgia's first birthday. She is napping right now and I am full of thought as I sit in my house surrounded by pictures of her.

I'm not sad. And I'm not really tearful. I'm content. I'm peaceful. I'm who I am and where I'm supposed to be. A mother of a 1 year old.

Many of my friends have had tears during this time as they look back at how fast the year went and how they only got a few weeks to enjoy each growing stage of their child. I kept waiting for the sad/happy tears to come and I thought there was something wrong with me when they didn't.

But my truth on this day is a feeling of pride and a new found confidence. Georgia has taught me that I can be a mother and protect her and love her and teach her and enjoy her, fiercely, everyday. I am able to be someone I wasn't before her. She has given me new life.

My Good 'Ol Dependable Bathroom Scale.....yea right.

My bathroom scale never fails me. It's steadfast, true, and dependable. No matter what, the number I see causes me sadness.

It doesn't matter if I've gained, stayed the same, or lost weight; I'm unhappy. And here's why.

In the past, when I was trying to lose weight (and failing), I would weigh myself every day. I couldn't get out of the habit. Sometimes, I would get off and back on again a second later, just to see if the number would be 0.2lbs lower than what it just was. Or I would weigh myself multiple times a day; clinging to the hope of seeing a low number that would bring me some joy in life.