A Mothers Love

I have spent a lot of time talking about my weight loss and fitness progress. Last week was pretty hard. I was just not mentally up for it. I went to the gym, but the desire to push myself was missing. Maybe I had gotten to complacent. I mean, even my mother was giving me compliments.

For those of you who have one of those Pollyanna style mothers who think that everything you do is wonderful let me explain. If ever there was a person who I could trust to be brutally honest it is my mother. Make no mistake. My mother loves me "more than a fat kid loves cake" (That reference is the only way my mother and 50 Cent can peacefully coexist.) She is just a believer that loving someone means being honest even when your input was not exactly requested.

This means that my mother is always saying things like this:

1. When my complexion got lighter around my nose- "You think you have that Michael Jackson disease? Are you going to turn white? You think you are going to start bleaching your skin? Don't do that, okay?" Yes. Talking to her is often like listening to someone's stream of consciousness rant.

2. Any given day - "You look so nice in your clothes today...(wait for it)...Now if we could just do something with that head. When are you going to get your hair done again?"

3. After I told her I was poor and could not go on vacation with my best friend any time soon. "Oh, does that bother you...(wait for it)...Are you happy in your marriage?" Still not sure how those things correlate.

4. Sitting in my kitchen - "Oh, you cooked. What is it? That is so nice...(waiting)...I mean I wouldn't eat it, but it is good that you cooked."

5. Talking about my housekeeping skills - "You look so nice when you go out, but God forbid someone follow you home." I have often tried to explain that the person following me would be considered a stalker and therefore they would be the one with the problem - not me and my "dirty" house.

These are all reasons why her recent comments when I come by have probably given me an inflated sense of accomplishment. She has been raving about how much better I look and how healthy I must be getting. I am just saying...if my mother tells me that I am looking good, I must be rocking it out. Goal accomplished, right?

Not quite. Today's quote from my mother who stopped by my job to say hi after running an errand. "Are going to lunch now? Is this where you normally get your lunch? You bought breakfast today? You must have because your stomach is poking out now. It wasn't like that this morning. What did you eat?" I asked her is this was her way of making friends because it was not working for me. We laughed it off, but...

I know who WILL be going back to gym. Motivation received.