Ever hear that quote, “love knows no bounds”? Well, apparently, neither does head lice.

Yes, that is how we started our Spring Break today. I had all these plans to get a ton of work done today while also entertaining my kids. Lofty goal, I know…every school break starts this way in our house though.

Great expectations followed by humbling circumstances.

I thought we’d escape the lice outbreak. Why? Because I’m a brat and think I’m invincible. Turns out, I’m not.

Lice=1, Ripps=0.

However, according to www.centerforlicecontrol.com, IT’S NOT MY FAULT. (Look it up…that’s their tagline. Sort of phenomenal marketing. I totally clicked.) Lice really don’t give a shit who you think you are.

It’s hair nor there to them. (<< I thought about that one for a while.)

It’s amazing what kind of time you find when forced to do something. I, of course, didn’t have time to go to yoga, go for a walk, meditate, make a salad for lunch or balance my checkbook, but somehow I found the time to treat my daughter’s hair (1.5 hours) and 18 loads of laundry (6+ hours and still counting).

Time is a fickle thing. I have written about this before and I probably could until end of time (I’m just full of them today). But it’s just something I have a hard time wrapping my head around. It is truly the one thing we can’t make more of yet we waste it like it’s renewable.

I may be the most guilty of this.

Think of these 90 days. I have never done, or rather not done, anything for three months without being forced to, naturally or otherwise.

I remember thinking in years past when I’d get to the end of February, “had I stayed with my resolution, I’d be ‘this far’ by now.” It’s so surreal to think I can actually say it. And feel pretty damn good about it.

I feel much less nervous today than I have the past few. I think this is just going to be a constant ebb and flow. And what I’ve learned is that it probably is for everyone, I was just never paying attention.

I find myself wishing not for something ‘better’ or to ‘be’ better, only that I have the strength, tenacity and courage to deal with whatever comes my way.

I’m feelin’ pretty confident about that these days.

It’s been one of those weeks…and it’s only Tuesday.

Nothing has happened…I’m just sort of blah. I feel puffy and lazy and unmotivated. But, alas, there is always a silver lining. Finally, I have learned…

PMS.

You’d think after, give or take, 288 months I would get it. But, only after journaling for three months was I able to actually track my cycle. And this time I recognized it the first day, rather than after a week of feeling like a loser.

That’s just one of the epiphanies that has come out of this little sojourn. I’m sure I’ll be able to pin point many more as the days and weeks go on.

Another has been the before bedtime ritual I have created simply by writing this blog. I have come to look forward to the time I spend quietly typing while cozied up under my fuzzy blankets, drinking tea. Without even so much as a passive aggressive request of my family to leave me alone. No one bugs me; everyone, even the dogs, seem to respect my space and time. It’s freaky deaky. And although I have many reasons to keep writing, this will probably be the one to seal the deal.

Certainly at times it’s been a chore more than a hobby, but it’s been refreshing to have something to be accountable to, even if it is just to prove to myself I can do it.

I took the kids to Indian Lake today for a little hike. Not that I have never done that, but the times have been few and far between for sure. And it would have most certainly turned in to lunch and beers with a friend and her kids instead of the ice cream break and stroll by Black Earth Creek like it did. It was just the three of us and even with the grumbling and whining, it turned out to be just what we all needed.

A little sunshine, a little fresh air and a little blood pumpin’. Three ingredients to take any of us out of even the funkiest of funks.

She’s gonna get a real kick out of this because I know she’s reading. And she’s far from your typical senior. She’s my idol.

Quite a few years ago now, I crossed paths with a spunky, sassy, fierce little whippet of a woman. She embodied strength and perseverance to me. And I hadn’t even talked to her yet.

She’s dog people so, of course, in a conversation with my other dog people, we clicked to which we then became Facebook friends and have since followed along from a polite distance.

Until I started this.

Since I decided to air my dirty (turning clean) laundry for everyone to read, she was the first person to admit to reading a post. It was a little embarrassing and a little awesome. But the fact that it came from her made my heart sing.

I can’t really express what her positive energy has meant to me, for a variety of reasons which I will keep between us. It’s such a comfort knowing there are real people out there that walk the walk and talk the talk.

But it’s more than just one person that has made this one of the most enlightening and positive experiences of my life. It’s a collective group of people I have surrounded myself with…on purpose. The older I get the more I cherish those around me that are loyal and supportive and kind. On the flip side, I have little to no time for those that are petty, jealous or lack compassion. Luckily for me, I don’t know that I can name a single person like that I spend any energy on anymore.

I’ll probably wait until Sunday to get all preachy with you, but let me just leave you with this little piece of unsolicited advice:

When a woman you admire tells you your brave, believe her.
When someone tells you your good at something, find a way to make it a priority.
When someone compliments your hair, teeth, earrings, smile, energy, spirit, tenacity, organizational skills, your new shoes say thank you…and that’s it.

And when your hero tells you you’re her hero, smile and hold on to that shit forever.

I just got done with a hot, epsom salt bath. At 3:30pm.

And before that I played with my flowers for hours. And before that I stopped at Starbucks and bought myself a latte. And before that I went to Hot Yin Yoga with one of my favorite instructors and basked in the glory of stretching and meditating (read: laying on my mat in a hot room). And before that I had breakfast made for me. And, to top it all off, I am getting pizza on the grill tonight.

Pretty great Saturday if you ask me. However, it didn’t start out that amazing.

My husband and I fought this morning. Nothing earth-shattering, but heavy air now nonetheless. We have been working together on a few very important items and we’re in a constant state of progress and sometimes we have hiccups. But all is forgiven and right in the world again. Note: this is because I took the time to put myself first after that. Had I not, it would still be bad.

Plus, I have been in a funk all week. I haven’t totally been able to nail down the source; probably a combination of things like always. Certainly the anticipation of Day 90 has loomed for the past few weeks. I find myself fretting over the dumbest things. Like, will Sunday be the first day I have a drink because it’s Day 90 or technically will it be Monday because then it would truly be 90 days? Or, will I be able to have one? Should I really be “celebrating” with the thing I have been trying to avoid all this time?

This is the stupid shit that runs through my head.

But, here’s the two things thing. 1. Ultimately, it’s my decision. I have to be okay with whatever I decide…about anything. And 2. Tomorrow is not today. I don’t have to worry about anything that is going to happen tomorrow today. I’ll wake up the same person I am right now.

I have no guarantee that the tomatoes on my margherita pizza won’t kill me tonight. Or that I won’t get hit by a drunk driver on the way home from the grocery store (wouldn’t that be ironic). Or that I won’t wake up at all tomorrow.

I know, I know. That all sounds real doomsday but I have a point.

After yoga this morning someone I admire immensely took the time out of her day to pull me aside and tell me this very sentiment. It doesn’t matter if it’s 9 days or 91 days or 181 days or whatever. Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow. That’s it. To worry about anything else it futile.

We both admitted to thinking during yoga (and got a good chuckle out of it), which we all know shouldn’t be what we’re doing. (Or should it? I thought about this today while raking out the peonies. Why “shouldn’t” I be thinking on my yoga mat? It’s honestly where I get some of my best ideas. And isn’t it about “my practice”? So, whatever I do on my mat is my beeswax.)

As we’ve all heard the adage “take one day at a time” probably more than once in our lives, and ahem, rolled our eyes at the messenger (I’ll be the first to admit that), it is true.

I used to think it was a bunch of garbage. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have this and this and that and this going on. I have to plan for the future and if I don’t look back how will I learn from the past?” Except I wasn’t planning and I didn’t learn. I kept myself stuck in the same wet diaper blaming someone else for not changing it for me.

And at 40 years old, I am perfectly capable of changing my own dirty underwear.

In any case, I’m not gonna lie…day 89 has been sort of anti-climactic. I thought I would be more reflective or more proud of myself. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud, but to be perfectly honest, I always knew I could do it. I knew if I just said no and held myself accountable to others, there would be no question I could “accomplish” this. It became a challenge. And, if you want to see me do something, just tell me I can’t and then watch me prove you wrong.

I know, it’s bratty. I can’t help it. Plus, it’s sort of my superpower.

What I wanted out of this was a reset. I wanted to hit the slow-mo button so I could get a handle on what was actually going on in this head and body of mine. I wanted a chance to see if there was something out there that was just waiting for me to take a breath, open the door and welcome it in.

Turns out there was. Stay tuned.

Friday night we were sitting at dinner when Maddie read a riddle for me to solve:

What always runs but never walks, often murmurs but never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats? I knew the answer but I let her tell me anyway (#momwin). As we waited for our friends and my O’Douls to arrive, I thought about what a clever little riddle that was.

The following thoughts waited until I was lying on my yoga mat the next morning and they’ve stuck with me ever since.

Life is like a river.

As I lay there, and in the hours since, I just can’t shake the analogy. I know it’s cheesy, but bear with me.

A river generally starts either from a spring or a mountain run off. I suppose this could be considered your birth, or re-birth, whatever you like. It flows slow at times and then more rapidly, gaining speed over rocks and ledges, maybe tumbling off falls then landing in a pool of serene, calm water.

Maybe it stagnates in a pond or lake but eventually moves on through tributaries finding a different path or possibly leading back to the main one. Eventually, even though it’s taken many twists and turns, it empties out in to the great lake or ocean it was meant to end up in.

The past 90 days has been a portion of that river of life for me, but also one in it’s entirety. It started out as one thing and ended as something completely different than what I was expecting.

I went back and read that first post on Day Zero today. I remember where I was when I wrote it, both physically and mentally. I was actually drinking wine, sitting in my kitchen. (Pretty sure I failed to mention the drinking wine part.) I can feel it in my bones now how frightened and vulnerable I felt. But also so fed up with my current situation. I had gotten real sick of being the victim.

And, man, could I throw a good pity party. I’ll bring the wine!

As I reflect today, I can see myself riding in that canoe down this river. The times where I paddled so hard against the current on Shit Creek, eventually wearing myself out enough, I surrendered and threw out the paddle, the canoe naturally righting itself. I hit some rapids, peacefully glided along a shallow riverbed and got stuck in a lake for a while. But, no matter where that boat took me, I ended up right here, just like it was meant to be.

I’m still the same person.

I won’t lie. I started this journey wanting to be a “better” version of Katy. I thought this would finally be the solution to my weight “problem”. I thought the bags under my eyes would go away. I thought I would be a better mom, a better friend, a better wife, a better employee.

The truth is I’m not any better at any of those things. Did I break some nasty habits? Yes. Did I become more aware of my surroundings, how my actions affected others and my negative self-chatter? Yes. Do I have more energy? Yes. But I didn’t change. And I am so okay with that today.

But it is true that some things got better:

• I lost 17.2 lbs.

• I fit in to clothes I haven’t in years.

• I sleep better than I ever have.

• I can cross my legs comfortably.

• I can tie my shoes easily.

• I can put my hands on my hips.

• I have inspired (more than one) someone.

• My house is (mostly) clean 50% of the time.

• I have accomplished more in the last 90 days than I have in the last 9 years.

• I am more present with my kids and have noticed things in their personalities I was just not paying attention to before.

• I have allowed myself to receive some pretty amazing opportunities that I might have not recognized as even a possibility.

Those are just the things I can put my finger on today. The effects of this will benefit me long after Day 90.

Now, let’s get real here for a moment (in case you didn’t think I was already). There’s a chance tomorrow morning will come around and I’ll say fuck it and have a bloody mary after my kids get on the bus. It’s unlikely, but there is a chance. And if I thought I wouldn’t beat myself up for the next week, I just might.

But, here’s the thing, I haven’t quite mastered my mean girl. For now, she’s quiet and obedient, but I’m guessing she’s just being very patient, just waiting for an opening.

What I’ve realized is that this wasn’t really about the alcohol, it was the relationship with myself that was so unhealthy. Sure, the depressant qualities of it certainly played a role and helped keep me in a destructive cycle, but it wasn’t to blame. It was just the closest thing I chose to medicate with.

Medicate what? Well, now I’m not so sure.

My circumstances have not changed. I have as much to be thankful for today as I did on January 1st; no more, no less. I have the same history I’ve always had; the same mistakes, regrets, indiscretions, betrayals, losses, abdonments. And for 90 days I didn’t need medication for them; just a deep breath, a shoulder shrug and a good ‘ole who gives a fuck?

But I know some of you do…give a fuck.

And, I am so very grateful for those of you that have followed along. Whether you reached out personally, liked a post or stalked me from your wife’s phone ;), your support has not gone unnoticed.

If I can leave this 90 days, and you, with this piece of unsolicited advice I’ll feel my work is done here.

You are the most important person in your life. You’re more important than your kids or your spouse/partner or your work or your hobbies. And I know some of you are rolling your eyes and saying yah, yah, yah because I did that too. But I’m fucking serious here. If you do not take care of yourself, your body or mind, but probably both, will shut down on you. You’ll end up drinking or spending or cheating or sad or bitter or sick or dead. And then what good will you be to all those people and things you’re putting before yourself?

Self-care is not self-ish.

And don’t tell me you don’t have the time. Time is relative. If you want to use “I don’t have time” as an excuse, at least cowboy up and just admit you don’t want to do it. It’s okay. But for the love of all things holy, find something you like, make a commitment for two weeks and do it. If it’s naps, accept that you need it, don’t feel guilty about it and dream a little dream for me. It doesn’t have to be the thing everyone else is doing or thinks you should do. Think out of the box. Because we all know opinions are like assholes. Everyone’s got one

I told you I’d wait to the end to get preachy. It is one of my favorite pastimes.

I don’t know what Day 91 will bring. I know my plan is to sleep like a baby tonight, go to yoga in the morning, take my dog to the groomer, come home to a clean house (cause it’s cleaning lady day!), work at my favorite coffee shop, maybe nap and go on a date with my husband.

But for now, I am going to snuggle with my kids, finish my ice cream cone and be thankful I gave myself this 90 day gift.