Defeated.

I was. Yesterday. I tried not to show it. Or to even think it. But Yesterday kicked the crap out of me.

Could have been that I refused to believe I was as sick as I was (I hate medication, but man was it a lifesaver). Could have been that getting off my workout routine these past few summer months has left my thighs a little bigger than I would like them. Could have been that I fed my kids mac and cheese (and ate some too, which might actually be the culprit concerning those larger than life thighs!). Could have been that my closet is a disaster zone and I do not have the mental strength to even know where to begin. Could have been that I silently sobbed inside when my husband, my saving grace in times like these, rode off on his motorcycle (even knowing he was heading to work to keep food on the table did not help). Could have been that my ears wouldn't stop ringing. Could have been that my girls didn't make it to bed until after 10:30. Could have been that I checked my bank account. Could have been that I accomplished absolutely nothing of importance. Could have been for no reason at all.

Regardless, by the end of the day I felt worn down. Beat up. Done. But oddly I didn't cry. Didn't shed a tear the whole day. Maybe I sensed that today would be great. Maybe in the back of my mind I was begging and pleading with today to be great.

My ears are still ringing. My bank account still empty. My closet still looks like a tornado plowed through it. But who cares. Strangely not me. Not even a little.

I spent the afternoon at a neighborhood pool with a group of amazing women. We met at the gym a few years back. One of the girls has washboard abs. One of the girls puts Barbie to shame. One of the girls makes more money in a few months than we will all year. But they are such a down to earth bunch. Looking at them you would never think it, but they are the most nonjudgmental group of women I know.

We are always talking about how strong women are in general and how we have the ability to gain so much strength from each other. But often we choose to pit ourselves against each other; comparing the cleanliness, the size, the value of our house to our neighbors. Sizing up our boobs, our stretch marks and our pant size. We are rarely content to be just who we are.

I play that game too. All too often. It is easy to get wrapped up in and easy, after being around this group of women, to remember how silly it is. I am grateful that I have women in my life like that. They keep me in check and remind me that this body, this 149 pound (as of my doctors appointment yesterday, pre-chocolate shake and mac and cheese dinner), size 8 on a good day-10 on a bad day body is good enough.

So put that in your pipe and smoke it Yesterday.