As I write this, only two days from the start of my Mom Experiment and the beginning of Memorial Day weekend, it is 40 flippin’ degrees outside.  It is difficult to imagine myself happily beginning my summer challenge when I’m still tense from the unrelenting cold permeating our drafty Chicago apartment.  Yet, there is hope as change is eminent.  Mother Nature will subdue the North wind at some point and my family will move from this drafty home, where our youngest was conceived, to a new home with free radiator heat in a neighborhood steps from where our eldest attends school.

Considering the average person, I’m really good with change.  Out with the old, in with the new, I say!  Let’s start fresh!  And, I’ve really messed up the old, maybe I can do better with this new thing.  I actually have the feeling that I’ll be a better person in our new place, that I’ll be more alive somehow…Ah, yes, I am an optimist despite my history. 

My challenge to get fit like my four year-old, is the first time in too long that I’ve set a goal.  As a full-time stay at home mother and a part-time waitress, I work hard for everyone else, but myself.  I’m thrilled to have finally come up with a way to work toward a goal where the end result is simply a healthier me. I visualize my new fit self at my mother’s wedding in August, in a breezy sundress, tan and glowing.  On my son’s first day of school in September, I see myself dropping him off with a kiss as I head out with my daughter to mom and tot yoga (a luxury we can’t currently afford!) 

However, failure is possible.  The brain does not like change.  Many argue that Free Will does not exist and my idea is an exercise in futility as my patterns suggest that I will simply continue in my rut, forever digging a deeper trench.  Yet, I am a compatiblist and believe that determinism can co-exist with free will.  It is possible for me to have enough self-awareness to recognize the tricks my brain will play in its drive to maintain the status quo.  I will have to call on some ultra-consciousness to parent the stubborn little synapses, which will fire the messages, “Eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s now!  You deserve it after the day you’ve had!” or “Sit on the couch and watch the kids play, don’t get on the floor with them!  You’re an adult, not a child!”  I have fallen for my brain’s lack of adventure before and have failed more than I have succeeded.  I have failed at being a fit person, and I have failed to live up to my potential.

I turn 36 this summer.  I know I have 36 years of influences, patterns, and habits to overcome in one tiny summer.  My brain is going to be put in a lot of time outs, I just know it.