It’s Sunday night and I don’t want to go to sleep. Not because I’m binge-watching something good, or because I’m enjoying some glorious child-free alone time. I just don’t want Monday to come.

I can already feel the weight of it. School lunches. Uniforms. Work. Appointments. Washing. Cleaning. Activities. Someone inevitably announcing at 8:07am that they need something obscure for school that they’ve known about for three weeks.

I’m not ready to start another crazy week. It’s been a really hard few months. Who am I kidding? It’s been a hard few years. Almost 11, actually. Coincidentally, exactly the amount of time since our first baby came into the world.

Don’t get me wrong. Kids are the most incredible things in the world. The how did I make you? and how did you learn that? and how can I possibly love something this much? kind of incredible. But there are also changes that creep into your life so slowly after having kids that you don’t even realise they’re happening.

Until one day you find yourself deep in an I don’t even know who I am anymore hole, wondering how the hell you got there. And I was well and truly stuck.

Somewhere along the way, I disappeared

I hadn’t realised how much of myself I’d slowly edited out of our family life. I stopped thinking about the foods I liked and started planning everything around what the kids might actually eat, because eating one meal together seemed infinitely preferable to running a short-order restaurant every night.

Exercise became something I theoretically enjoyed but never seemed to have time to actually do. Although, to be fair, I didn’t even feel like I had time to go to the toilet without someone needing me. Every simple task was interrupted by fighting, whinging, a lost shoe, a snack request or someone’s bum needing to be wiped.

And WHY do children need everything immediately? I have told mine approximately 7,462 times that my ears don’t work for whinging. Apparently their ears don’t work at all. Eventually, though, I couldn’t ignore how I was feeling.

My jeans barely buttoned up. I felt sick and bloated most of the time. I was puffed walking up the street after school drop-off. I’d spent so many years putting everyone else’s needs ahead of my own that the healthy-eating, gym-going, pre-kids version of me, felt like another lifetime ago.

Something needed to change.

Enter: the suspiciously fit man on Instagram

I’d been seeing videos on social media from a very strong-looking guy called Coen Sealy. He’d compare two meals that looked pretty similar but had wildly different calories. He’d test viral high-protein recipes. He’d explain nutrition in a way that actually seemed achievable rather than suggesting I survive exclusively on steamed chicken and sadness.

He runs a program called Reform Nutrition and Training, and I’d thought about doing one of the challenges for ages. Then I’d immediately talk myself out of it.

When would I find the time? Would everyone actually let me have the time to exercise and meal prep? How am I supposed to exercise when I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since approximately 2015?

And, probably the biggest one:

What if I pay for this, fail miserably and just add “wasted money on fitness challenge” to the list of things I feel guilty about?

Then one afternoon I asked the kids if they wanted to go to the park. They looked up at me from various positions on the couch, grunted and went back to the TV. Right. Enough.

I was signing up. And apparently everyone else was coming with me.

Naturally, life responded with absolute chaos

I’m now in week seven of the eight-week challenge and I feel like I need to explain something before I tell you what happened. This has NOT been eight weeks of beautifully organised meal prep, matching activewear and peaceful morning workouts while my children respectfully entertained themselves nearby.

Life has been completely unhinged.

Just before starting, I sprained both ankles. I’ve developed bursitis in my shoulder. I’ve been sick three times. Flynn developed a bizarre shingles-looking skin reaction. Grace somehow ended up with a blister ON HER EYEBALL. Lachie’s shoulder has been subluxing and he’s now got an Achilles injury.

You know. Just your standard few weeks in our household.

And yet…I’m more than 5kg lighter. Which is particularly funny because losing weight wasn’t even my main goal. I just desperately wanted to feel healthier.

I’ve completed my three workouts every single week. I’ve stuck closely to my meals and calorie targets. I’m drinking more water. I’m moving more. I’m eating properly instead of forgetting to eat and then turning into a possessed snack zombie at 4pm.

And I feel SO much better. I have more energy. I’m less bloated. I feel stronger. But the part I wasn’t expecting?

My family changed too.

The bit I didn’t see coming

The kids started coming along when I tried to get my steps up. They’ve joined me for workouts. They’ve been eating the higher-protein meals I’m making. They’ve started asking questions about exercise, muscles, food and health. Fitness has become something we’re talking about as a family, not in terms of being skinny or losing weight, but about being strong, having energy and looking after our bodies.

And suddenly I realised…for all those years I thought putting myself last was part of being a good mum, my kids were watching me do it and thinking that it was normal. Now they’re watching something different. They’re watching Mum say, “I’m doing my workout.” They’re learning that exercise gets a place in our week. They’re seeing us go for a walk instead of automatically sitting on the couch. They’re seeing food as something that helps our bodies do things. They’re learning that looking after yourself matters.

And I didn’t need to lecture them about any of it. I just needed to start doing it myself.

Turns out the flight attendants were right

I’m not sharing this because I want to sell you a fitness program. And I’m certainly not here to announce that I have transformed into some kind of buff gym bro after seven weeks. I’m sharing it because I know I’m not the only mum who has slowly disappeared underneath everyone else’s needs.

Life will always be hectic. There will always be appointments, bills, school emails, sick kids, work deadlines, washing piles and someone yelling “MUUUUUM” from another room despite the fact there is another perfectly capable parent sitting approximately 30 centimetres away from them. If we wait for life to calm down before looking after ourselves, we might be waiting a very long time.

We’ve all heard the oxygen-mask analogy: put your own mask on before helping others. I should probably have understood this better than most considering I’m an ex-flight attendant. Apparently I needed a refresher course. Because looking after yourself isn’t something you earn once everyone else’s needs have been met. If you’re a mum, that day may literally never come.

You have to put yourself back onto the list.

And it doesn’t have to be complicated

That’s probably the biggest thing I’ve learned. I didn’t overhaul my entire life. The main changes I’ve made are ridiculously simple:

• Eat more protein while staying within my calorie target.
• Do three workouts a week, usually around 30 minutes each.
• Drink around two litres of water a day.
• Get at least 8,000 steps.

That’s basically it.

I’ve also had a coach I can message when I need help, someone keeping me accountable and plenty of education around nutrition and training. Even though I already knew quite a bit about nutrition and fitness, I’ve picked up so many little strategies that make healthy choices easier in actual family life.

And that’s what I’ve liked most about the Reform approach: it’s about making changes you can realistically keep doing. Because I don’t need another eight-week period of my life where I’m “being good” before eventually going back to normal.

I needed a new normal. Seven weeks in, I genuinely think I’ve found one.

The biggest thing I’ve lost isn’t 5kg

Looking back, these have actually been some pretty difficult weeks for our family. And strangely, I think I’ve coped with them better because I started this challenge. Before, I felt like I was constantly on a hamster wheel, desperately trying to keep my head above water.

Now I’m still on the hamster wheel. There are still children whinging. There is still washing everywhere. Apparently eyeball blisters are a thing now. Nothing magically became easy, but I feel better equipped to deal with it. And the biggest change isn’t the number on the scales. It’s that I’m starting to feel like me again.

She’s still in there. The woman who likes feeling strong. Who enjoys moving her body. Who cares about what she eats. Who has goals that aren’t exclusively about keeping three small humans alive and remembering library day.

I’m slowly bringing her back.

And I’ve realised that looking after everyone else doesn’t require burying yourself in the process. You actually can have both. It takes a little organisation. It takes protecting some time for yourself. And sometimes it means sticking to your plan while somebody dramatically complains that your 30-minute workout has destroyed their entire childhood.

They’ll survive. They might even join you.

So if you’ve been waiting until life is less chaotic, the kids are older, work is quieter, everyone stops getting sick or you magically discover an extra three hours in the day…Don’t. There probably isn’t a perfect time. Start small. Pick something you can actually maintain and put yourself back on your own list. Because seven weeks ago I was stressed about how I could possibly manage this fitness challenge. Looking back, this challenge has helped me to reset my priorities and I’m finally finding my way back to myself.

The best part is that my whole family came along for the ride.