I’ve been floundering around for several weeks. I’d lost some weight, then I allowed larger portions to come back in, and I gained. Enough of this. It doesn’t matter if my husband refuses to get off his butt and exercise. Of course I joined him in sitting on my but on the couch recliner. He didn’t make me sit on my butt… I chose to sit there with him and watch tv. Frankly the longer I sat there the angrier and crappier I felt.
I see where he is heading, and it scares me. Frustrates me as well, because there is not a friggen thing I can do about it.
I am not responsible for his activity. Taking care of his body has to be his choice. However I am responsible for mine. Frankly I choose to be able to be active… so… I’m rocking it… yeah!
Maybe… just maybe he will decide to get up and move too. But if he doesn’t, I am sorry, but I am not sitting there with you turning into a pile of human mush. This has been a tough decision for me. I love the guy and do not want to leave him behind rotting in a friggen chair.
Has to be his choice… I’ve made mine…
I can do this! I need to do this! I want to do this! I am doing this!
One day one workout at a time!
Mary E. Robbins
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