Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Minimal. Simple.
This week's Focus52 prompt is Minimal.I don't know about you but I think we females have one hell of a time accepting our flaws. I'm not saying we should think everything about ourselves is ridiculously sexy, I just think we should accept the fact.
Or maybe we should think everything about ourselves is ridiculously sexy. Hmm. No. Maybe not- cause then we wind up delusional.
I, for one, am dead set against being one of those delusional females who don't quite understand that yes, men like curves, but that means boobs and a significantly smaller waist. Not boobs on top of a gut. Boobs are not boobs.
I wish they were.
However in my stubborness and obsession not to be one of those females who are indeed delusional I've built up a nice, thick wall of doubt.
But slowly, very very very... very slowly I am starting to accept small parts of my body. Oh sure, thoughts creep in. You know when you say to yourself "I look like this- but I'm the only one that accepts it... waaahhhh"
I do not have the best confidence- oh no no no- but there are times when I find myself in a room full of females (and when I say room I mean facebook hehe) and all I hear is just the most annoying crap and I want to punch all of them in the faces. In the faces!
My want to accept my body and all it's changes that will happen goes so far as to be absolutely against plastic surgery (even a small lift and tuck I'm against).
Every female I know sees herself completely different than how she actually is.
We live in a world where there are women out there who can identify with that old Special K commercial- the one where the woman is whining because she can't fit into her toddler aged daughter's toddler sized chair.
Seriously. What the fuck?
What is wrong with us?
No- I'm not saying eat doughnuts 3 meals a day and say "dammmnnn I'm so skinny!" - but damn thinking your skinny ass is fat? Or trying things in desperation so no one will know you've have kids. Why? Stop it. It's annoying.
But, like I said, I too am guilty of viewing myself with doubt colored glasses.
Back to this week's 52... (sheesh I sure can yap lol).
So think week- simple photos of small, and simple bits I'm learning to accept:
First- do you know how hard it is for a curly girl to accept her curls? Not only that but to learn how to break the habit of washing it as though we have straight hair? Thankfully about a year ago I stumbled into Naturally Curly.com. So- curly girls- go there.
Next- I've have 3 kids. The youngest is over a year. I still look pregnant. Am I working to get healthy and back into shape? Yes. Do I know I will won't look how I used to before kids? Yes. Am I ok with that? Getting there...
Ok. So these might not be minimalist photos- but they're stripped down, so to speak.
Thursday, March 08, 2012
Admitting imperfection
I do not know any mom who doesn't have the teeniest bit of judgmental tendencies when it comes to other parents. All of us have looked another mom and for a split second smile in the knowledge that our parenting skills are sooo much better than theirs.And most people would agree that "hey unless you're beating your kids or molesting them- you should parent how you want to" and for the most part I do agree with that sentiment.
But- well here comes the confession.
I never wanted to be the type of mom (that I seem to always be surrounded by) that runs to her kids when they take a fall.
Bragging rights for a moment- when my kids fall down, even from what other moms think of as "high up" my kids 99% of the time get up, dust it off, and keep going. And I'm proud of that accomplishment.
BUT- oh how there is a but...
My want not to be "that mom" has become almost a sub-conscience obsession. Maybe not as bad as telling them "so what if a crocodile ripped your face off! Go play!"
But whenever I'm around, like Facebook and I see other moms posting about how wonderful their kids are and how much they love them- my immediate thought is that they're "those" types of mom.
I admit, that even though I don't want to be the mom carrying bubble wrap in her purse - I forgot how to love my kids.
Now, that's not to say I don't love my kids. I do- very much. I'd shoot someone in the face if they tried to hurt them. I'd sacrifice every personal luxury to give them a chance a better education and a better life.
But I've forgotten the simplest of moments. Plain and simple- nothing added- just plain moments of loving joy. The split second - take a breath in, think to myself how much I adore them, breathe out. That quick. That simple.
Maybe its because my mind never stops. Maybe it's because I'm pretty much with them 24/7. I don't usually get an opportunity to physically take a step back. Step outside myself- not being the one mainly responsible for making sure they're respectful, well-behaved, fed, have a thirst for life and education, etc.
I am jealous of other SAHMs who've seemed to find away to be with them all day and night and still be able to take a step back and have a moment of simplicity.
And it makes me sad.
Thursday, March 01, 2012
J is for... Jubilee
I normally try not to get super political or activisty here. And I'm not really going to now. But this happens to be an issue I feel strongly about and so it made sense that this week's Focus 52 prompt- J- would be for Jubilee.Let me explain.
I will say it loud and proud- I am a fan of the The Duggars. We do not share pretty much any political or religious beliefs but I adore them in a way makes my heart ache. Not in the "oooh celebrity!" way. No. Forget that. They are, to me, some of the kindest, respectful, loving, accepting, wonderful people on the planet. I have learned so much from the wisdom of Michelle- she's opened my eyes to a whole new area of motherhood and life I might not have known if not for her.
Recently they miscarried their 20th (yes, 20th) child. They were going to name her Jubilee Shalom.
Before we had 3 rambunctious and crazy little boys we got pregnant.
Twice.
And miscarried.
Twice.
The first time I didn't find out until the 4th month. Thanks to the wonderful Army health insurance my first appointment wasn't going to be until I was 4 months pregnant.
I had what's known as a blighted ovum. Where you've miscarried but your body continues to tell you you're still pregnant. You still have all the symptoms and everything.
So because it was a blighted ovum I had to go in for surgery and have the fetus removed via DNC.
Saying they vacuumed it out sounds crass but that's basically what they did.
It was a rough time, needless to say, for Stephen and I.
Though I didn't realize it for a while, I needed someone to blame and I found myself blaming him. It was a terrible mountain we had to overcome- but we did.
We learned that miscarriages are more common than people think, and most people don't even know they've had one.
The day of the surgery- which was an in and out, go home the same day, surgery- after I woke up- there were nurses gathered around my bed. They gave me a tiny gold ring they give to all mothers who've had to go through a DNC and also a pin of feet. The exact shape and size of a fetus' feet at 8 weeks.
It's been on my purse ever since- for over 5 years now.
So that's why this week J is for Jubilee.
