Just felt like writing a quick update.
VBS is going well. I have nine kids ages 2, 3, & (young) 4, and have two parent helpers every night so it's not as bad as it sounds.
I love this age group--they are little sponges. Their love is quickly & easily shared. All you need to earn the love and trust of a 3 year old is a couple of hours of care and smiles and attention, and they are yours for life. It's been a huge blessing to work with them this past year.
VBS is two hours long. After 15 minutes of snack and settling in, our class joins the other classes in the sanctuary for music and the nightly skit, which is 35 minutes long. It's a miracle my class can stay put (they don't sit still, but they stay in the pew) that long. We give them 20 minutes or so to run and play (outside if it's not wet, which it has been all but one night) and work out their wiggles. Then we do a simple craft, then play some more, then we sit down on the floor and I teach a lesson (about 5 minutes long). Then we gather in a circle and hold hands and I say a short prayer; I always ask for blessings or give thanks for each of them by name. I think it makes them feel special to have an adult pray for them out loud, using their names. I hope so, anyway. I stamp their hands or arms at the end of the prayer. Then they play or watch Veggie Tales until it's time to go.
So, for the most part, it is an easy teaching gig. But I am not inherently extroverted. It takes a lot of energy for me to be extroverted. And teaching is about as extroverted as you can get (with, perhaps, the exception of being a politician). I am continually talking with them and helping them resolve conflicts or complimenting them on something they did right, or helping them say "I'm sorry" when they do something wrong.
When it's one hour on a Sunday morning, it's not a big deal. When it's five nights in a row of two+ hours a night, it's exhausting. I still love it and wouldn't trade it for the world. But it takes a lot of energy.
So I've been really careful this week about not feeding my face with comfort food, especially at night. More often than not, when I want to eat when I'm not hungry, I've stopped and asked what do I really NEED. Rest is the answer. Rest and sleep and quiet time. Instead of eating junk food, I've been going to bed as soon as the kids are down for the night.
It's obviously showing on the scale. I've lost almost 8 pounds since mid April, which isn't a lot but it's an average of a pound a week. I'm OK with a pound a week, especially since I was on vacation for 10 days during that time frame. I've stopped the gain, and I'm working my way slowly back down. If I kick up the exercise (as I plan to) and continue eating less processed and more whole foods (as I'm doing), then I will be a happy camper.
Vickie shared a link from Jane yesterday that fits perfectly with this issue of finding comfort through food. Jane talks about being sick and not eating to feel better. I'm not sick right now, but I am stretched beyond my limits, which is definitely an excuse to eat to "feel better." I found both posts very helpful yesterday.
Jill also shared a post I found helpful. It's a big reason I got up this morning at 4:50 am and met my friend Dedra for a four mile walk. Yes, I'm really super tired right now. But this morning was lovely. It was no big deal to get out of bed and get moving, because I'd promised a friend I would meet her to workout.
I don't know why I can't do that FOR MYSELF. What I'm (slowly) figuring out is that it's not a matter of CAN'T. It's WON'T. Making excuses and putting the blame on "life getting in the way" is getting old.
Maybe it's therapy, maybe it's the new med (doubt it, only been on it a few days), maybe it's acupuncture, maybe it's paying attention to blogs again, maybe it's realizing how miserable I was this time last year and telling myself I don't have to be miserable anymore. Or maybe I'm just ready. Probably it's all of the above. I feel like I'm ready to drop the WON'T's and CAN'T's and I'LL TRY's. Ready to move on to the I WILL and I CAN.
Ready to be my own best friend.