10.9 percent, and a pinch

I got a DEXA scan Wednesday. 10.9 percent. In January it read 15.9.

If you've never done one: you lie on a table for about 6 minutes, a low-dose scanner reads your whole body, and it tells you your actual fat, muscle, and bone. Not a guess off the bathroom scale. The real breakdown. This is better than your scale at home.

The number isn't a flex, but it's my reminder that I've been dieting since January to get here. All those small decisions compounded and paid off. And, this is great but it's not what's on my mind.

Our 20 month old started pinching and throwing haymakers this week (ouch). Hard, out of nowhere, usually right when I'm already worn thin. And I'm learning something I'm not good at yet: the moment I want to snap is the exact moment he needs me to be gentle instead.

Gentle has been the whole soundtrack in our house lately. Gentle hands. Gentle voice. It seems like we say it over and over for him, but it's mostly to remind myself.

Here's the thing I keep noticing. The scan didn't move because of one big week. It moved because of a hundred small mornings I mostly forgot about. Maybe less than a hundred, but it feels like that. The gentle thing is the same. It's not one calm reaction. It's saying the calm thing again on the night I've got nothing left.

Both are just the small thing, repeated, when it's the last thing you feel like doing.

So this week: pick the one moment you tend to get irritated with. The pinch, the 2 kiddos whining simultaneously, the 6pm meltdown. Say the gentle thing there on purpose, once. They deserve it.

Where's the spot you keep losing your patience, and what's the calmer thing you'd say there? I'm still learning too and love to hear your thoughts. Hit reply. I read every single one.

It all counts.
Tony