In years past, I've made new year's and mid-year resolutions to work on my physical form. I've never not worried about being "fat" even when I weighed sixty pounds less than I do now. Lately, I find myself coming to terms with my body and giving myself credit for maybe moving a little more or eating a little better. Those little choices are really what will make the biggest difference in the long run, not only on the scale but for my overall well-being. Perhaps it is the wisdom that comes with age, maybe it's appreciating what my body has been able to do for me. It seems cliche to always go back to motherhood, but my body made two other perfect human beings. Hating a body that did something that remarkable seems like a disservice.
Sure my clothes are tight and my body might be a little looser than it was in the past, but it's holding together nicely. I hurt sometimes a bit more than I used to after say a day at a theme park. I guess I must be strong though seeing as I have a couple kids that I either hold or carry or toss around on a pretty regular basis and nothing has broken yet. Husband still thinks I'm sexy and he's the one that matters so I tend to acknowledge that a lot more. Health-wise, thinks are looking pretty good. I don't have any major illnesses to speak of and I don't find myself at the doctor too often so I can't really complain.
This year, I am resolute to focus a little less on the physical and a lot more on the mental and psychological aspects of my life. Since Christa was born, I have struggled with insane PMS like I've never dealt with before. At one point late last year, in the midst of holiday and family stress, Husband told me that if he talked to me the way I talk to him, we likely wouldn't be married. Talk about a wake-up call. Shortly thereafter, I made the decision to go on Prozac again to help counteract the PMS and my symptoms of OCD and anxiety. Almost a month in, I find the results to be very encouraging. My PMS was nonexistent last week, didn't even know Aunt Flo was knocking. 
The reason I share this is because sometimes it's okay to ask for help, to acknowledge that maybe you aren't the superhuman you so desperately believe you need to be. Sometimes it takes brutal honesty from someone you trust to make you a little more introspective. Those who know me are aware I have a short fuse and a sharp tongue, that I'm quick to tell the truth and not consider how my bluntness might affect someone else. Now is the time where I need to refocus and really put into perspective what really requires what little energy I have to exert. 
So here's to the new year, not a new me... just perhaps a better one.