“I just snapped at my kids because I was hungry.”
When I shared this Facebook status, I was met with overwhelming support. People more than understood; they rallied in support of my hangry regret knowing all too well how food (or lack thereof) affects your mood.
But what they didn’t know was that I had begun yet another diet — a diet that I hoped would make me look good enough to feel better. Heaven knew I hadn’t felt good for a while.
Simple trips up the 14 dreaded stairs of my second-story home winded me. I felt bloated, slow, and the kind of tired you only get from sitting stationary at a computer by day and lounging stationary on a couch by night as you binge-watch five seasons of Big Love. Then there was my mood. I was crabby, frustrated, and anxious because feeling gross inside has an ugly way of making you act gross on the outside, too.
And my parenting suffered. I’d become a short-tempered, buzzkilling bystander of a mom who stood on the sidelines and barked orders. [read more…]
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