My poor baby was up all last night. Is there anything worse than a sick 2-year-old? Poor little guy didn’t even know what hit him. He was up almost every 2 hours on the dot, 10, midnight, 2, 4, 6. I felt so bad for him.
He’s doing much better now. This stupid stomach virus started with the 8-year-old, then me and now him. I can only guess The Husband is next, but for as uninterested as he is in healthy living, he somehow dodges most bullets. It’s like he has some superhuman immune system.
Anyway, I realized something after all the sick toddler hoopla: I have been truly living in the moment the past 24 hours. You have to with a sick child. You just tend to them and everything else seems pretty insignificant.
When I finally got a moment to sit at my desk to write today’s weigh-in post I realized I didn’t even occur to me to hop on the scale once this week.
Some weeks I look forward to the scale ritual and some I dread. There are times I argue with myself whether I should hop on at all. Is it a good idea to be accountable? Or does it do more harm than good? Does it even matter in the grand scheme of things what the stupid scale says anyway?
You guys know all this because I blog about it. Weekly.
But today was different. Today it didn’t occur to me nor did it matter. I didn’t have time to overanalyze my petty and ridiculous relationship with the scale. Life was happening. Things needed to get done. People needed to be taken care of.
I think I just had a glimpse of a scale-less life and I liked it.
Of course now I’m curious what the stupid thing says, but I think I resist this week. :)
How is everything going with you guys?
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