Weight Watchers

I'm tipping the scales. People still ask me when my baby is due. She was born TEN MONTHS AGO. That is a different matter. Today, I'm addressing how my soul is obese and has high cholesterol.

This week's conscience check-in is over the battle to work out. After a week when my husband's absence overshadows his presence due to work travel, I'm ready to lose it. Inevitably it is also school vacation week, the older two argue over everything and there is a grumpy baby who ends up with an ear infection. I am in awe of the heroes we call single mothers.

Upon his return, I latch on to my husband for help. I'm asking for an hour to have metal objects scrape my teeth to prevent any future dental work. His objection? Watching the kids during his work lunch break. The only time when he can go to the gym. Nuh-uh - no he didn't!!!!

Here is where I indulge in McDonald's for the spirit. My mission is to weigh my husband down with guilt for even whining about his missed opportunity. If I am lucky, my workout is a 30 minute Jillian Michaels DVD that I pause on and off for an hour and a half. The timing never seems to be right with a baby and toddler. I'm stepping on Legos as I jog in place. When I'm flat on the ground, the dust and crumbs distract me from pumping those endorphins and I'm discouraged by the mess.

Let's face it, I need exercise more than he does. I've had three babies in five years. I don't get breaks. My life is harder, right? However, my husband's crankiness is like the lunar eclipse. He apologizes and moves on quickly and I'm left with the bitter aftertaste of resentment. Do I really need Lady Justice to measure in my favor and carry all that extra baggage around? What I really need is a diet of mercy and forgiveness. Then and only then can I shimmy into my favorite pair of spiritual jeans.