Founding Fathers

I love the website artofmanliness.com.

It's everything I love about life... it's old-fashioned and classy and masculine.  I just love a good, hearty dose of masculinity.

Want to learn how to carve a turkey?  tie a tie?  date a woman?  artofmanliness has your back.  

I don't spend much time reading their tutorials, but I love what they have to offer -and I can't get enough of the atmosphere of the site... I swear I can *almost* smell cologne wafting from the faux-wood background.

And I love it.

Yesterday I came across their Founding Father Motivational Posters, and I'm bound and determined to print them out, laminate them, and distribute them to everyone I know.

That includes you.

It's a virtual FEAST for your soul:

 

I should mention that I've been REALLY struggling with my own sugar addiction.  I'm nursing and I'm starving all. of. the. time.  My sugar addiction is running rampant.

 

Today I'm determined to try harder -aren't we all determined?  

But today I did something I haven't done since the morning I found out I was pregnant (in APRIL)... a Jillian Michael's work out.

It never ceases to amaze me how thirty minutes with Jillian makes me feel exactly like I have the flu: nauseated, shaking, weak...

 

I hate Jillian.

I also love her. I have her to thank for all the inches I lost last year.

 

And after spending thirty minutes with Jillian, I'm less inclined to eat the cinnamon rolls on the oven and more inclined to pour myself a bowl of ma's homemade granola.

 

 

The granola will make better milk for my baby.  Children are great motivators. 

My six year old daughter stood by my side during my work-out.  Fifteen minutes in when I was weakening and slacking, she was going strong.

 

"Mom, this HURTS," she said.  Yes, darling.  Jillian is mean.  But she means well.

   

And she is one of my tools -my tools to overcoming my own addiction.  My addiction has me so wrapped, so willful, so physically poisoned.  It seems a light thing -a sugar addiction -but what I'm dealing with is something more awful.  

 

It's moved beyond the realms of physical ramifications and breached the territory of my mind.  It is not something I can just... stop doing.  At this point, I am powerless.  I have been for a few years now.

 

My husband is worried about my physical health five years, ten years, fifteen years, twenty years from now.  He's worried I will die -physically.

Much like I am worried he will die -spiritually.

 

And so today is a day of tools -Jillian, my children, the words of the Founding Fathers!

I can eat right today.  

I won't think of tomorrow.

 

 

For more motivational posters from our Founding Fathers, please click HERE.

I only included those I felt applied to my situation today.

And I'll leave off with this one.  For no other reason than I have a slight obsession with Benjamin Franklin (have you READ his autobiography?  It's rad) and I love it: