11 December, 2014

Body image.

I've been pretty open about my self image issues.  The eating disorder, the lack of good judgement when it came to dating in the past, forever being cast as "the funny one" during my teenage (and post teenage) years.  Now, of course, it's the wobbly tummy and saggy boobs from having grown the bratlets.  I've never been happy with my looks, and I can't even remember how old I was when I started identifying as fat.

Today, as I walked into town, I began to notice a trend.  The girl walking just ahead of the pushchair was gorgeous, a stately Amazonian warrior princess with fantastic legs showcased in a mini skirt.  She was blatantly going out, maybe a Christmas do, or whatever, but she looked amazing.  The men walking toward us, every single one of them, checked her out from the front and then waited for her to pass so they could see if the back was just as good.  (It was.)

Thing is, I overheard the comment from one of the guys to his mate as they walked past me.  "Too tall, though."  I'm sorry, what?  The perfectly lovely specimen that you just shamelessly ogled isn't quite perfect enough for you, you misogynistic little toad?

So I'm realising that it's not about what other people think.  It's about me and how I feel about me.  Yes, my belly is wobbly.  It housed two humans (one at a time, thank goodness) one of whom was close to eleven pounds and two feet long.  Yes, I can tuck my boobs into my waistband.  They fed the same two humans (and still feed one of them).  Stretch marks?  Battle scars.

It's all good, baby.

07 December, 2014


I know you're all familiar with the old standards.  You know, "ELSE EAT" which graduated to "SOMEFIN ELSE EAT", "whobody give this me?", "wubboo" for "love you", "pooguin" instead of "penguin" (which she still uses, actually), etc.  Times, they are a changin'.
  • Today I boosted her onto my back because her short legs combined with her disinclination to go home was making the trip intolerably long.  Mid wail, she lets out "THIS NOT WORKING FOR ME!!!!"...
  • Last week she climbed on top of me where I reclined on the couch to press her face against mine and say "do you wanna build a snowman?"...
  • I told her my ankle was hurting when asked why I didn't want her to bounce up and down on that foot and she put one hand on my face and with a grimace said "oh, darlin'..."
  • She was mad at me one morning for telling her she couldn't wear a dress that was dirty and in the wash, so she glared at me and in a voice dripping with scorn informed me that "you t-shirt not perfect".  Add to this the hat I wanted to buy in TK Maxx but was told "you can't buy that hat, you too old" and I'm going to get a complex about my appearance.
  • For the last six months, if you ask her to tell you a story she makes one up about a princess and a "horrible screaming dragon".
  • She uses any scarf, blanket or tea towel to make a cape to "rescue Carley from James, him pinchin' her butt" and races around the house.
She's currently "hiding" under her little table shouting "HEYYYYY, I ARE HIDING!!!" at Dude, trying to get him to look away from "wreckitelf" (I'll leave you to work that one out for yourself).  I'm looking forward to the next collection of weirdness, she cracks me up daily.