Come on over -- I'm having a pity pool party and the water is fine!
For the past three years my life has been a constant struggle between what goes in my mouth and circumference of my hips, stomach, thighs. For me and my self esteem, it's a losing battle whereas for my hips -- well, they always seem to be on the gaining side. This summer I've made a concerted effort to walk while the little ones are at camp. I'm walking over 3 miles in less than 50 minutes. And usually I walk four. That, with smarter food choices, should have me over the moon. But instead of being happy that I've lost 2 pounds, I'm depressed over the looming trip to CO. to visit distant, physicaly fit and trim relatives. I hate the skin I'm in. For now anyway. For these hormone ravaged days.
But there is a bright side. And my little one mentioned it to me the other day. We were lying about on the floor when she rested her head on me. She got all cozy and then said, "I love your soft belly." It was all I could do to swallow the guffaw that was rocketing up my throat. But then I smiled.
Yes, mommies should be soft and have comfortable curves. What child wants to be comforted by a stick? Still there are limits. And to be honest, comfortable as she was, I want to fit back into my size 8 jeans that taunt me from the back of my closet.
While walking I listen to a song from the Girl Scout sing-a-long CD that touts that it's good to be you, and it's good to be me. It revels in idea that, I like the person looking back from the mirror when I brush my hair. I listen to this song over and over, because I need to hear that it's good to be you and it's good to be me. Me, just the Mom. Not the writer, not the published novelist. Not the accomplished anyone, but Mom. For this summer, with our schedule -- that is my job. And without these hormones -- most days I'm happy with being Mom. But is that unhappiness a sign of underlying termoil? Or just hormonal ugly rage that rears it's disruptive head every so many weeks.
About a month ago I read an article about a chess acquaintance who is traveling to Peru to study ancient bones. Better yet, his research will be on the Discovery Channel in the Fall. And last night we watched A League of Their Own. From both events I found myself wishing to have a passion. An interest that drove me to get up in the morning. And I wonder if I am too old to go back to school, or hone a talent. But then again my days are quite full with motherhood and the taxi service that goes with it. And I wonder more about whether it was a good decision to chose family over career. And I know with each minature hug and wrestling tickle match, it is. But sometimes, I still wonder.
There really isn't any love lose between me and hormones. Why, one day life is good, and the next -- I'd take a one way ticket anywhere. And I remember to breathe in and out. And breathe again. Keep breathing, keep hugging, and in a few days, life will be good again.
Hmmmm.... maybe minature hugs and kisses are my passion. The little ones think I'm great at it. I certainly get a lot of practice. I think I'll upstairs and practice some more.
1 comment:
If it makes you feel any better I haven't been a size 8 since the 9th grade... which was 20 years ago! While I have lost weight, it's been over a 16 month period at an average of a pound a month... the slower it goes the longer it stays away. Slow and steady wins the race.
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