Shower yourself with Love

A few days ago, I stepped on the scale, and was horrified by the numbers I saw. I shared my lamentations with some Catholic lady friends. One of those wise women told me to 'love your body, Ash, just as it is.' We got into a discussion on what it means to love your body.

For the first time, thanks to these women, and my own reflections, I think I'm starting to get it.

Loving my body means treating it well. It means feeding it nutritious food, drinking plenty of water. It means moving, and laughing, and taking joy in it.

It means paying attention to my body's need for activity, for nutrients, and yes, for rest.

We feed our children their fruit and vegetables, and their meat, and their milk, because we know it's good for them. We know it's what their bodies need to be at their best. At the same time, we don't deny our children treats. When we get this balance right, our children are strong, healthy, and happy.

Seems simple and effective.

I can't say I'm fully in a place of loving and accepting my body right now, so I'm going to 'fake it 'til I make it.'

I'm going to show my body love by feeding it good healthy food. I'm going to have chocolate, and wine, and I'm going to savour it.

I'm going to eat intentionally, savouring each bite, and reflecting on the good that each type of food, in it's own way, is doing for me.

I'm going to move my body. I'm going to walk, and bend, and twist, and wiggle, until my body is warm and my eyes bright with the sheer joy of movement.

I'm going to go outside, and feel the sun on my face, and the wind in my hair.

I'm going to use my foot spa, and treat my hot, tired feet with love. I'm going to relax in scented baths. I'm going to moisturise, and paint my nails, and take feminine delight in soft skin and prettiness.

I'm going to learn to take joy in my softness, my curves, and my femininity.

I am going to treat myself lovingly.

Clearing Out and Moving On.

My family of 4 lives in a 1 bedroom flat. It's a lovely flat, and we're lucky enough to have our own, private back garden, but we've out-grown it.

We need to move.

I want to move for what I have to admit are pretty selfish reasons. I want my husband and I to have a room of our own again. I want to be able to go to bed if my husband is watching sports, put a lamp on, light a scented candle, and read. 

I want to lay a table for our meals, have a filled book-case. I want a place to hang beloved pictures and tapestries. I want the twins to be in separate cots, in their own room, which has been decorated with them in mind.

I want a family home.

To get there, we need to sell the flat, but getting it in a fit state to sell seems like a huge task. Finding space to put things while sorting out what to throw away or donate, and what to keep is hard, especially with 2 inquisitive toddlers who can reach a little bit further, a little bit higher, everyday.

I've made a decent start, but with 2 demanding little people underfoot and tugging at my legs, it's slow and frustrating work.

The task seems huge, and the only way I can get through it, is a little bit at a time. I have to keep chipping through the clutter, and the frustration, and the doubt. I need to keep doggedly at it until I reach light, and space.

We need to head for a new space that's ours'. A space where we have room to think, to grow, to breathe.