I have always told my husband that I appreciated his honest. I have always been able to ask my husband if I looked okay in this or that, if something made me look big or not, and can trust that he will tell me the truth.

But sometimes the truth hurts. And sometimes I’m a hypocrite.

I’ve gained some weight after the move for various reasons, and a couple days ago, I put on a shirt that felt a little tight. It’s short and has a collar, so it always feels a little stiff, but it verged on uncomfortable this time. I went out to my husband and asked if it looked a little tight.

He said, “Yes, it does. I think you need to lose those extra pounds again.”

I know that it’s ‘only human’ to wish for the best of both worlds, but I feel like a hypocrite. I asked for the truth and he told me. I should feel lucky to have a husband who takes the time to look and be honest with me – and I do.

But the truth is also a harsh mistress. One we need to face if we’re going to do something about our health. We need to face the facts about diabetes, heart disease, infertility, etc if that’s what it takes to get the motivation to get healthy.

Still…

Do you ever find yourself wishing that the truth would take a brief holiday, even for a minute?

(For my non-Oz friends: ) In Australia, when someone says you’ve been gasbagging, you’re most likely a woman who has been talking a lot with another woman. This post? This is going to be a gasbagging post – at least on my part.

Firstly, I didn’t expect to have no internet connection at the new place for as long as I was. We got a severe runaround from our ISP, but we eventually got our connection up and running. Of course, I had to get my desk built and my desktop hooked up after that.

All boring details that are taken care of now.

The new place is lovely. We’re not completely unpacked, but we’re already heaps more relaxed than we were in the old place. No police cars, no screaming matches and no being paranoid about leaving the place for fear of windows being broken into.

Just to add to the chaos, we’ve added a new member to our family:

This is Asimov, our eight week old male kitten of no particular breed. He’s very playful and loves cuddles. He’d always rather sleep in someone’s arms rather than in his comfy bed. Unlike all cats I’ve known in the past, he is very vocal. He’ll let you know how he’s feeling – especially when he’s wanting some attention.

Asimov is the first pet who is truly mine and is the Bloke’s and my first pet as a couple. The Bloke isn’t a cat guy, but Asimov has even made a place in his heart.

I have found the scale and stepped on it, but I’m not going to utter the numbers. Besides, I’ve somehow acquired a stomach virus that will certainly influence my weight anyway. Until the unpacking is done and we’re truly settled in, I’m going to just look after my health and deal with the other stuff later.

Having moved AND gotten a kitten, the Bloke and I are feeling good about going through with the things we say we are going to do. The next steps will be things like planting some veggies and herbs, exercising consistently and going out less.

Things are looking good…