The husband sleeps

So, here I am. 43 years old. The TV is on, and we are watching the pilot of "Glee", again. Husband is on couch with head sliding ever so slowly to the left... Eyes fully closed and body fully slouched. He is tired. Working hard and driving 1.5 hours to get to and from work can wear a guy out.

But, that isn't what I wanted to talk about. I worked, did an IEP (longer meeting with parents to help determine what a kid will focus on for a year of learning), took some stuff to a friend whose house burned down on Sunday, and got my daughter her Senior Portrait. Then, a quick phone call to clarify stuff with a parent, and then check in with Diana to see if I had missed working out with her... Her husband said she was already at the gym... So off I went. I missed Diana, so I worked out alone, and watched my red face, sweating, hair pulled back severely, rolls of flab squishing together and unrolling as I worked the abs and tried to get my "buns of steel" which the chatty gal on the tape tells me to keep working for.

I feel good about what I am doing, and am motivated to keep going, because as child two is in her senior year, I don't want to meld into my chair, tired after a long day of work, and just keep on buying a size up as the seasons change and my life stays static. I wish to feel more balanced, to see my face again, instead of the multiple chins when I smile. To see the face I think I have not the one that stares thickly back at me from the workout mirror.

Husband sleeps, kids go to college, and I am left with this large opportunity to grow and shrink at the same time. Watching what I eat comes next. But exercising is what I am committed to now. I want to be well and healthy. We'll see how it unfolds.