Thursday, May 6, 2010

I'm Not Whining, I Swear...

You know those things that you never want your significant other to talk about, unless it's a conversation that you start or you start together? Like finances, sex, kids, etc. Well, the hubby and I never have a problem talking about any of these things. Sometimes we'll bring up these types of conversations, if we're in conversation mode. I feel comfortable talking to him about everything. He knows when I'm uber crampy because he knows when my time of the month is coming before I even know. It usually goes like this:

Me: "Ugh, I'm just not feeling right, I'm all moody, why do I get like this?"
Hubby: "What day is it? Oh, yup, it's about that time."
Me: "Really? It feels like I just had it. Hmmm, Ok. Why can't you have it this month?"
Hubby: "Sorry babe, can't help you there."

He ends up buying me a large box of stuff and I'm always really thankful that I didn't need to head out to the store in my condition. I mean come on, I'm hurting here! How could someone expect me to shop for myself? I think it's his way of saying he's sorry for not being able to take my pain away. I then end up spending the next few days miserable on the couch with a heating pad, complaining about everything in the world and wondering why everyone has to annoy me. I try to convince myself that this time is a perfect excuse for a sick day. But I never follow through. So I suffer and let everyone know I'm suffering. I'm the worst possible woman in the world. Could you imagine me pregnant? Oh Lord, help my husband handle my craziness if that ever happens.

The point is, we talk about everything and anything.

But a few days ago, he kind of threw me off.

After a long day at work, I came home to him eating six English muffin pizzas. Six of my favorite childhood food, other than Mac-n-Cheese. And I, being good, didn't ask for one, even though I suddenly and secretly craved one. Instead I ate some of the cheese that melted onto the pan. He asked me what I was doing. I'm eating the cheese I said. Thinking it was a silly question. He didn't like my eating the cheese. Hey, even if he wanted it, he had a bag of mozzarella cheese on those little, delicious English muffin pizzas, I was eating what was left of it! That was it, enough said. At least I thought so.

The next day he randomly says to me, "You know what I've noticed? I think when you stop exercising, you also start eating badly."

Me: (looking up from my daily Facebook fix) "Umm. Ok?"
Hubby: "I'm just saying, it's what I've noticed. It's like an all or nothing." (I quote even though I don't quite remember the exact words due to the shock I was in, so forgive me.)
Me: "Well, Jen was away on vacation and I was busy with work and besides, you don't know what I do when you're not here."
Hubby: "Yes I do, you always say what pain you are in after a workout."
Me: (evil grin) "Not always. Do we have to talk about this..."
Maybe it's just me, but all of a sudden I felt like I was being attacked for my cheese eating the night before. Now let me get this straight. I am a self-confessed cheese fiend. I could easily eat a block of cheese in two days time. But it's random. Sometimes it's peanut butter. It's always a toss-up between the two. Right now, I'm on my cheese kick, so sue me!

Isn't it an unwritten rule that husbands never talk about their wife's eating habits or weight? Unless of course, the wife brings it up.

In my head I was coming up with all these reasons on why he was wrong. Why he shouldn't ever have mentioned it. I mean, seriously, was he calling me fat?! Because in my woman mind, that's what I totally thought. I was not happy. I didn't want to talk about it. I was in defense mode. I was trying to prove him wrong and trying to show him that he was wrong for ever bringing it up. But in the end, after thinking about it. He's right. It is what I do.

I mean I love that we talk about everything, but this is such a touchy subject for me. When it comes to my weight, my eating habits, my laziness or my exercise enthusiasm, I don't want to talk about it, unless I want to talk about it. Otherwise I feel totally judged. I start waking up thinking, "God, please let me not eat the cookie at the birthday party because everyone is going to look at me and think, 'Why is the fat girl eating the cookie? No wonder she's fat!'" Even though I'm not really fat anymore. Just a little fat. It's so hard because in my head I will always be the fat girl. Always. It's something that the hubby just doesn't understand. Well, he does, he has had his vices as well, but you know how it is, you always think your problems are bigger than everyone else's.

So, hubby, I'm trying. I'm trying to kick this all or nothing mentality. It's OK if I have a cookie one day, as long as I don't turn it into a box. It's OK to have something not organic every once in awhile. I'm trying to realize that I don't have to try to be perfect, I just have to try to have a normal relationship with food and with exercising. To be healthy I need to work out everyday. To be healthy I need to eat food that comes from natural plants, not manufacturing plants.

The hubby was right and I was wrong. I have tried to come up with excuses for myself because that is what I've always done. It's hard to change at this stage. But I've been doing pretty good since I met him. My weight has been in a happy place for awhile now, give or take five pounds either way. I've been loving my workouts for the past year. Consistency is the key to everything. Thankfully the workouts have been the stable thing (unless my trainer goes away on vacation! how dare she!). But food is my downfall. I'm picking up this book after reading these key notes in Redbook magazine:

1) Realize that the size of your body isn't just about food.
2) Understand that weight loss isn't everything— but it is something.
3) Go ahead and feel bad.
4) Believe that you deserve happiness.
5) Eat when you are hungry.

These seem so silly. But isn't that how it goes with eating and fighting the battle? It all seems so simple. Exercise and eat healthy. Well, duh. Of course. But can't it be easier? This article says, "If you eat when you're not hungry, you're using food as a drug. And the question is: Why?"

I think I had an ahha moment.

I guess common sense is really the best medicine.

So even though it was hard to hear and even harder to say that he was right, I guess those unspeakable conversations that piss wives off, are really just a needed reality check. Our partners in life know us better than anyone else, so I guess it's not a bad thing when they call you out on the stuff that secretly plagues you. So kuddos to you hubby. You've got my number and the name of my game. But I feel pretty confident in the woman I am and the woman I have yet to be. So every once in awhile I might be a little moody, a little lazy, or want two slices of pizza instead of one, so just realize that I am human and I'm not perfect. The best part is, I'm finally realizing it too...

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