Take Me As I Am
Nothing says ‘New Year’ quite like the abundance of weight loss commercials. They assault us as we vegetate in front of the television, soft drinks and chips in hand. They shout at us, ” NEW YEAR, NEW YOU!” We are made to feel worthless by the ads that try to brainwash us into believing that we can shed pounds quickly with just a little pill, a special powder, a body squeezer, etc.
I recently came across a group of random photos. Why they were grouped together, I have no idea. Included among these pictures was a small time capsule of my life.
I was holding my oldest son as a toddler. My joy shone from my eyes. But I distinctly remember seeing that picture at the time and thinking that I needed to shed a few of those baby pounds. I remember feeling like a failure when I couldn’t fit into my size 6 jeans and was forced to size up to an 8.
I was at a wedding. The dress I wore did me no favors. Ruffles and patterns were a distraction to the eye. I remember that Hubs hated that dress. I remember buying it, knowing it was in style. My girlfriend urged me to get one that was just a bit shorter and less patterned but I was stubborn. As I was at the wedding, I knew they were both right and I was uncomfortable.
Son2’s prom. I was standing beside my tall, dark and handsome son beaming with pride. I had on a blouse with stripes. Ugh. They pointed out how wide my waist was and how big my chest was.
Holly’s graduation. A sleeveless dress. God, my upper arms are flabby!
I put down the pictures. There was a thought niggling at the back of my mind. I didn’t know what it was. The more I tried to pull it forward, the more elusive it became. I folded laundry and went back to the pictures.
The thought crashed into my consciousness.
No matter how my weight rose, the body shape was still the same.
In high school, I had no waist. I had an “athletic build”. After the kids were born, no waist. I had “baby fat”. I needed to tone up those abdominal muscles. As I approached middle age, I had no waist. I was “unfit” because I didn’t exercise.
Were all of these things true? To some extent, they were. Now I look at these pictures and think that I would give a million dollars to be that small again. I would switch things around a bit. I would show more cleavage then and less now. I would be more revealing in a bathing suit and less now. The difference?
I now know that I was MADE this way. I will NEVER have a clearly defined waist. I will always be built like a box with legs. That is my BODY TYPE. With age comes wisdom. Sure, I will try to lose weight, but for health reasons, not vanity. I will dress better. ( I hope!) But because I am paying more attention to what is right for ME, not what society dictates is ‘fashion’.
I will be more forgiving with myself.
THIS is my resolution.
Hirsute-adj.- hairy, covered with hair
I am hirsute. All over my arms, and legs I am covered with thick dark hair. It grows very quickly and is very annoying.
Another place that I have hair is my chin (as in beard-ish) and under my nose (as in mustache-ish) I spend lots of time frequently plucking those mother fuckers. I tried waxing and I end up with patches of hair that I have to pluck anyway. I’ve never used the depilatory products on my face, mostly because they were always a waste of time and money to use on my legs.
Before the holidays, I got busy. I didn’t have the time to set aside just to sit and pluck, so I decided “What the hell” and I found myself in the depilatory aisle. So many products and so little difference, except for the price. I decided to go for the CVS brand.
I read the instructions and did my little ‘spot test’. No adverse reaction. Yay! And then I continued.
I used it on a Monday. It actually worked. Only a very small needed to be plucked and I chalked that up to missing a spot in the application. On the whole I was relatively satisfied. The only thing worth mentioning is that by Wednesday, I had flaky skin wherever I had used the product. This was a week before Christmas. I only needed a tiny bit of plucking maintenance.
Flash forward to the new year.
I let the hair grow in a tad. I haven’t been out of the house much and therefore, I let myself go. Last night, I decided that since I was still awake at nine o’clock, and everyone else was in bed, I would take advantage of the time and do it once again.
There is one sentence in the instructions that I failed to commit to memory:
Yep. That says it all. If I had remembered that, I wouldn’t have ended up with this:
I cleaned the cream off and applied the skin soother just like the directions said to. Yes, it stung a bit. I wrote that off as perhaps I left it on too long. I checked the clock and guess what? I actually took it off after less time than recommended. It was a little pink but whatever.
This morning I woke up to that. ^^^ I look like my husband beat me or something! It still stings to the touch but aloe gel has calmed the skin down alot. Now what? Can I still complain about this even though they snuck that little caveat in there?
I think I’ll ask my hubby for laser hair removal next year for Christmas.
As soon as I promised to write more, I fall off the planet again.
Actually I am coming to terms with news from my doctor. I went to the office last Wednesday for a checkup on my numbers, my weight and my horrible allergies. I have lost five pounds and more than five inches on my waist. This was good news.
By the time I got into the examining room, however, my allergy-pressure-migraine was ready to peak. I was afraid of throwing up or worse-passing out. The doc looked at me and handed me a prescription to deal with it. The last time I discussed pills for this, I was told that it would be something that I would take every day to keep migraines at bay. Not wanting to deal with that, I just dealt with them the best way that I could-ice packs, caffeine, and peppermint oil. Those three combined do a bang up job, but I have to be home for them. This pill, however, was bliss. I love my doctor!
And then we discussed my cholesterol. It seems that a summer of parties, party cake, potato salad, and of course alcohol has finally caught up with me. If I had avoided those things, my weight loss would have been more than five pounds. Instead it made my cholesterol spike. I have one month to fix this before he says I will need medication. Not thrilled.
Since I have done so well with my half hour of walking every day, he now wants me to raise it to one hour. This is doable. The next step is two fresh or frozen fruits and two vegetables a day. One fish a week and more beans. This is a very simple step for me to incorporate. I am so freaking happy that he is encouraging me with very tiny steps.
Oh it is showing. I had a pair of jeans that were so comfortable. I gained weight and put them away hoping that ‘someday’ I would fit in them again. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that they could be doing someone else some good and so I put them in the Goodwill pile in the basement. While looking for something different last week, I came upon them and pulled them on….just for shits and giggles. Lo and behold!! They fit me again!!!
And there you have it. Nothing is new….except my attitude!
Yadda, Yadda, Yadda
Monday: 10:45 am.
My hair is greasy and tangled with a sprinkling of grey roots.
I sit here in my mismatched pajamas with an old sweater thrown over it.
There are smears on my lenses and toast crumbs in my shirt.
I have to pee like a horse but I’m too damn lazy to get up.
Guess what! I’m okay with that today.
Now, fuck off.
Hopes and Fears
One of the responsibilities of having our own business is dealing directly with our customers. Hubs does this daily when he discusses the work they want done, when he goes over blueprints, and when he does the actual work in their offices, stores, and most importantly, in their homes. There have been so very many times when we have helped build a store, wired in the offices and then helped the owners build and wire their own homes. Relationships are built and this leads to word-of-mouth advertising and reputation-building. These things are priceless.
I hope I can be professional enough……
I, on the other hand, have become the voice of our company. I am the first voice they hear when they contact us. They tell me what they want, when they need it and depend on me to get that information to Hubs. I deal with the secretaries and wives frequently over the years, but still….we aren’t friends and we don’t really know each other.
I hope I can remember to watch my language……
On Saturday night, we are going to a dinner party being held by a client to celebrate the completion of their new home. Everyone-from contractors, carpenters, plumbers, painters, etc- has been invited. Hubs knows these people., some of them for years. I know no one.
I hope I don’t embarrass Hubs….
I try to avoid these things as much as possible. For one thing, these people are all strangers to me. For another, many of them are soccer moms. My kids are all grown. They discuss day care, camps, dance class and tutors. They get their nails done and hair highlighted and go for massages. Me? I took off my “Union blue” nail polish this morning and now I am looking at blue cuticles that I hope will fade by the weekend. I have to go shopping for a pair of dress slacks (HATE THAT SHIT!!!) and pray that I find some!
I hope I don’t spill my food or drink on myself…….
I am not looking forward to this. It is only Wednesday and I am already feeling the fear. Of what? I’m not sure. Will I have something to contribute to the conversations? Will I have anything in common with these women? If this hostess does a seating chart (yes they do stuff like that) will I sit near enough to my husband? I don’t hover or stick like glue to him, but I like that I can casually touch his sleeve in passing to feel a little more grounded.
I hope my breath don’t stink……
I didn’t even feel this level of angst when I was meeting all of my blogger friends for the first time.
I hope I don’t accidently fart…….
Three Little Things
I learned three things this weekend that may seem little to most of you, but that are kinda big to me……
Three…..I was told by a teenage boy–who is not related to me–that it was fun shopping with me. I was in Claire’s with his mom and sister. (Shopping for an eleven year old girl who is overwhelmed by the number of sparklies is a joy I have gladly given up!) We giggled together over the stupid sunglasses and furry hats. I threatened to tell a girl that he liked her. He threatened to act like I was a cougar hunting young cubs. This is a kid that only a few short months ago, was more annoying than the sound of nails on a blackboard. It made me smile….a lot.
Two….I found out that my exercising is starting to pay off again. I have gone from a 44D to 42C. This was somewhat exasperating. I needed to return two bras that I had bought last month and I only expected to exchange them. My friend talked me into trying on two different styles. They didn’t fit me for some odd reason and she begged to see what the problem was. Before I knew it, she was throwing bra after bra over the dressing room door. “Humor me”, she said over and over again. I was getting pissed and I felt like a teenager bra shopping with her mom. I was fed up. She said “humor me” one more and time and I told her that this was the last time. She handed me three more bras that were smaller. They cupped my boobs firmly and yet cradled them way above my belly button. They are pretty. They are floral. They are silky. And she said “I told you so.” Bitch. Yeah, I’ll let her get away with it….this time.
One….Hubs woke up in one of those rare moods. He was playful and I wasn’t. I got dressed to go out, and as I started to put on my coat, I noticed I had a spot on my blouse. And so, I changed. He thought it was funny that I was getting ticked off about the spot. Whatever. Oh and before I put my coat back on, I wanted to rinse my mouth with mouthwash. As I did, I dribbled down the front of the new shirt. He roared with laughter. It was at this point that I was ready to pull on my pajamas and go back to bed. I was still sleepy and not in the mood for playing around. He came to the bathroom door and hugged me. “Why are you getting so upset?” he asked me. “I feel like an ass and you’re laughing.” And then he said….
“I love the way you make me laugh. I love you and you’re so cute.”
Yeah, that one was the number one thing…….That and the french toast he bought me for breakfast.
The Trouble With Tribbles
If you buy a chick a new bedroom suite, it includes a new bed. If you buy a chick a new (bigger) bed, you have to buy her a new mattress. And if there is a new mattress, you need to buy the chick new sheets.
I bought some new flannel sheets for our new bed and since the bedroom set was our Christmas gift to each other, I made sure to wrap the sheets and put them under the tree. I was excited about these sheets, because the weather suddenly got very cold and the new sheets were flannel and they were also a very sexy solid black.
The week between Christmas and New Year, I was hit by a horrible virus. I was too weak to change the sheets. Every night, Hubs asked when the new ones would go onto the bed. Every night I bitched back “Whenever YOU get around to changing them! *you selfish bastard!*” (Now, I didn’t say the last part, but I sure as hell thought about it!) The truth is, I was afraid that I would fart in my sleep and shit all over my new sheets.
Finally, the day came that I felt better. I opened the sheets to wash them, and Hubs convinced me to forget about that. They were already very soft. They didn’t have that scratchy ‘new sheet’ feel. And so, since they only had a very slight manufactured smell, we put them on the bed.
The next day, my pajamas were covered in tribbles…..black, fuzzy balls of fluff too large to be considered lint. As I walked to the kitchen to let the dog out during the night, I had tracked them through the house. When I tinkled in the dark, I had tracked them through the hallway. They were everywhere. Now, I had done absolutely nothing while I was sick, and the laundry had piled up disgustingly. I had to wait one more day to wash those sheets.
Lint-everywhere-there were more pictures just like this……..several….just like this…..
This morning I woke up and repeated the trail of tribbles. It is doubly gross because I am taking down the holiday decorations. There is no point vacuuming yet, because I am leaving pine needles, glitter, cookie crumbs and such on the floor as well as the tribbles. My house looks like shit.
I took the sheets off the bed and put them into the wash. I was a wee bit concerned because the previous load of laundry was white towels and socks. While the machine was running, I took pictures of my floors. I wish I had taken a shot of my comb before my shower. It had fluff in the teeth- I kid you not. Bandit had fluff interspersed through his white fur. It looked like he was crawling with bugs.
The more I tried to sweep, the more it swirled away from the broom…..
When the washer finished, I took out the sheets and gave them a quick shake before putting them into the dryer. A flurry of black snow gently fell around me, landing on my clothes, my face, my head. It was all over the floor. The photo doesn’t do it justice. I was seething with frustration as I realized that I had to clean it all up.
This was all over the sides of my washer drum!
The more I tried to clean, the more I seemed to find. I remembered the episode of Star Trek in which the tribbles began to take over the Enterprise. Tears threatened. I took a deep breath and I put them into the dryer and hoped that the filter would take care of the offensive tribbles.
This shit is the consistency of foam….actual pillow foam…..NO SHIT!
Well, the dryer worked. It removed 99.9% of the lint. The filter was full. I emptied it and ran it a bit longer. This finally did it. Now they’ve been returned to the bed and they are soft and sweet smelling and comfy and cozy. My floors have been vacuumed and my pjs have been cleaned too. So far-so good. I’m sure when I wash them again, the lint will return to the dryer, but not as bad as this time.
Just one thing bothers me now……
Black sheets show the white flaky dry skin cells from my ashy legs and all of Bandit’s dander. *sigh* If it’s not one thing, it’s another…..
This weekend I did some shopping at the King of Prussia mall with Son1 and Shenanigans. I was there once upon a time…..like when it opened “the Court” section in 1981. Back then, I was the mom of one-year-old Son1 and I was relatively broke. I went with a girlfriend who tried to talk me into spending $25 for a pair of white cotton ‘granny panties’ that said “Bloomingdale’s”. In all the interim years, the only thing that never changed about that mall was that it consisted of the higher end stores.
Flash forward to this Saturday. It was obvious from the parking lot that things were very different from the mall less than a couple of miles away from my house. The parking lot was full of Volvos, BMW’s and Hummers. Groups of shoppers were leaving the mall laden with bags from Michael Kors, Coach, and Tiffany’s. The girls headed into the malls wore their high heels and pricey boots. The guys were well-coifed and looked like ads from GQ Magazine. I felt out of place, even though I actually “dressed up” to go shopping!
The three of us had a great time. We window shopped, pointing out things for our “wish” lists. We imagined the ways that our homes would look if we could afford the things that were sold in some of the artsy stores. We stopped for lunch and ate Cajun food, something we talk about doing but never have the opportunity to do. While we ate, we watched the people who walked by us. Not only were the stores, and prices ‘higher’, but the shoppers were…..I don’t know the exact word…..
Girls walked by looking down their noses at each other, they pulled merchandise from racks and shelves, and then threw them back with disdain, as though cashmere sweaters weren’t good enough to touch their skin. The guys were in two groups, the ones who absolutely loved shopping and knew where to go and what to buy and the ones who were only there to kill time. Little kids whined until they got whatever they wanted and the parents……
The parents all seemed like they were somewhere else mentally. It was like a ‘chore’ to be there. They were on their phones arguing about whether to get the kids what they wanted or to get them what they needed to go on vacation. Some argued with their kids “No, they only have that bag in brown……But it’s not in black…..What do you want to do?….Fine, then ask your father to take you….I don’t care really….Don’t come home, it’s his night….”
The lights were bright and twinkling. The music wasn’t too loud but it was quite festive. Babies sat on Santa’s lap.
If I could ignore everyone except Son1 and Shenanigans, I could be in the holiday spirit. If I let the others in, I could be depressed by the lack of …. would it be ‘lack of humanity’? a ‘lack of joy’? a ‘lack of family warmth’? People pushed by us without a single “Excuse me” It was normal to hear “Tsk!” , followed by the loud-whisper “OMG, did you see that? How rude!”
I ignored the outside world. I enjoyed my day with Son1 and Shenanigan. I am going shopping tomorrow with an old friend. We’ll be going to a different mall. I am curious to see if this is normal behavior this year, or if this weekend’s adventure was an anomaly. I hope that people aren’t so indifferent this season…….
Sucks and Smiles
Every time I check in here, I am surprised that so much time has gone by.
I have begun to go off my wellbutrin. Let’s just say…….I am miserable and it sucks and we can leave it at that.
My thyroid is jacked up. The previous doctor didn’t keep very good tabs on it and the new doc immediately upped my dosage. Now I am up and moving around and I’m hungry and I’m burning it off and I talk with run on sentences and I barely take a breath between words and I use the words “and” and “you know” like a teenager.
And then I get miserable again.
But I am smiling and happy that things are changing.
Babygirl came home on Thursday and she will be home until Tuesday. It is so nice having her and the BF and BFF coming and going. Bandit is getting all the loving he can and he sleeps with her right now because…..
I hurt my foot and I am currently on crutches. What did I do, you ask? I don’t have a fucking clue. Really.
I had gone out with the gang on Saturday night wearing a pair of cute boots. (Not even the ones with the highest heel!!) I never tripped or fell, but I did dance a bit. Around 1:30am, as we were leaving breakfast, I thought, “Jeez, my foot hurts!” I chalked it up to wearing boots that I haven’t worn since last winter. I got home at about 2 and when I tried to pull said boot off my foot it was tight. My right foot immediately began to swell, but I was drun–, um, a wee bit intoxicated. I guess that is why I didn’t feel such bad pain.
When I woke up, my foot was swollen and I couldn’t put weight on it. Needless to say, Hubs and I spent Sunday afternoon in the hospital, getting x-rays and crutches. (It’s not ‘visibly broken’ and if it still hurts by mid-week, I need to see a specialist….because God knows, I don’t see enough of them!)
So there you have it…sucks and smiles…..but with Babygirl home, those smiles are HUGE!!
He told me that he was leaving early. He told me that he wouldn’t be home until after five o’clock. He told me that I would have the whole day to myself.
Hubs had a class on updated electrical codes. He left before seven am. I was still asleep as he kissed me goodbye and left the house. I was so happy. After a night of fitful sleep, I was glad that I had no plans, no reason to get up before I was good and ready.
I slept in until ten. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a boiled egg and went back to the bedroom, where I did some internet surfing and tv watching. Finally, I was ready to get up and get going. I took out clothes and lay them on my bed but suddenly realized that I had the perfect opportunity to really get some shit done around here. When Hubs is around, he cramps my style. I get nothing done. But with him being gone all day….. oh, what to do, what to do?
I decided that since Son2 didn’t have to work tonight, it would be nice if he could watch the baseball game in a clean room for a change. This would entail vacuuming and moving some stuff around….and sweating. Instead of dressing in clean clothes, I grabbed the dirty stuff from yesterday. I figured that since I was the only one here, no one would care. Then when I was finished, I would shower and change into clean stuff later.
I took the vacuum upstairs and cleaned. I dusted the table and television. I folded his clothes and hung stuff in his closet. It looked good already. The last thing was the floor. I vacuumed the room, then took the hose and ran it down the corners around the floorboards. I reached up and got the spider webs that were forming in the corners. I stopped to move the table over and heard a commotion downstairs. The dog was greeting someone.
“It can’t be that late yet! Babygirl must have gotten home from school early!” I thought. “Hello!!” I called out.
Imagine my surprise when I heard Hubs’ voice answer.
It was a four hour class- not eight hours as he had thought. He was home and it was only one o’clock. I quickly finished the room and brought the vacuum back downstairs.
My face was red with exertion. I was soaked with sweat. Between the heat and the work, my hair was in a frizzy mess. In my haste to get moving this morning, I forgot the deodorant. I smelled as good as I looked.
“Oh my God! Why didn’t you call??? I could have at least showered before you got home!! I’m disgusting!”
He kissed me. “Mmm salty. You’re so cute when you hate me.”
How can I argue with that?