So here I am, and the Nyquil is about to do its worst, so if this blog spirals into oblivion, you will know why. I intended to start some serious exercising this week; however, the annual winter cold dictated otherwise. I managed to make it through teaching Sunday school this Sunday, but when I woke up from my Sabbath rest, alas, my voice was entirely gone. Since then, its been a viscous cycle of Nyquil, Dayquil, Mucinex, Psuedefedrine, and coffee. The coffee happens everyday regardless, but I digress.
I got on the scale this morning, and though I have not lost any weight, I feel like some healthy brain-changes are setting in, and I have been making SOME better choices--not as many as I need to--but SOME. Thus far, I realize my entire approach has been rather laissez-faire. There really has been no plan, and I suppose without knowing it, I've been humming "Hakuna Matata" through my half-hearted efforts.
How does this happy jingle from Disney's "The Lion King" play into the week, you wonder? Well, as luck would have it, I came down with the crud less than 24 hours before our happy home-schoolers were to resume their post-holiday lessons. I'm a stickler about lesson days (especially after nearly a month off for Christmas), so frog-princess voice and all, we were going to start back to school. By this morning, the cycle of medication left me with a nasty Nyquil hangover, and I made the foggy decision to do lessons in the afternoon. Therefore, I gave into the short people's pleas to watch "The Lion King" on Disney channel.
My decision bought me two hours of quiet and an entire day of laughter. Everyone sang "Hakuna Matata" for the rest of the day. Wikipedia says that this Swahili phrase translates, "No worries," which is great information, since I'm not sure how my kids' versions translate. My son's version is rated X. He hopped around happily chanting, "Hakuna-mamas-tatas!" all afternoon. Of course, he thought he had it absolutely right. His father was under the table, (laughing) and I told him he was no help at all.
My daughter's version was a bit less scandalous. She just sang, "Mama-matada!" while setting the table and not worrying a bit about where any of the silverware was actually supposed to go. I think she has pointed out my recent mantra, "Mama-matada!" No worries about this diet and exercise and weight-loss thing. It will all come together. You lost it before; you'll lose it again. All very glib for a person who knows very well that she tried 15 years to lose her weight before she finally lost it."
So a plan is in order. There is now far too much Nyquil in my system for the presentation of anything meticulous, but I'm giving you all, my brave readers, the bare bones. Next week, from the 12th to the 18th, I will be walking for 30 minutes every weekday morning and going to the gym at least three times. I will continue attempting to obey the "law of one." From the 19th to the 25th, I will identify at least five lifestyle or thought changes that need to be concrete in the next year's journey. From the 25th to the 1st, I will apply those changes. On February 2nd, I will get me to a weight watchers meeting.
Now Mama-matada is going to bed. Hopefully, a little bit of worry will inspire a year full of actions that result in a smaller, healthier me. In any case, I hope that if some old monkey walks to the end of a stone runway at the end of 2013 and heaves me over his head, the poor chimp won't get a hernia.