Check out my new AVON e-Brochure!: Hi Everyone!
Yep, I'm selling Avon. I'm also going to be selling Pampered Chef. Why? Because while waiting for school to start, I'm driving the kids nuts and they want me out of the house. Muahahahaaaa. Also because I do actually use products from both companies a lot. I love Avon Mascara, lipsticks and Haiku perfume. They also have a great selection of costume jewelry, kids stuff, gadgets for the kitchen, skin and hair care items, along with quite a bit more. It's a lot different from the Avon when I was a kid.
Pampered Chef is another one. I love it. I joke between me and my friends, we probably have the entire collection. I cannot say enough about their stone wear, or their garlic presses. This one has lasted me roughly 3 years No garlic press has ever lasted that long in my hands. The best part about this is, if you host a party, I come and cook for you, you get to play with my kitchen toys and you get a discount based on how much your guests purchase. At my first party, I had maybe 10 gals over and I got over $300.00 in discounts.
I know it sounds like a bit of a spiel, but it's something I'm excited about and if you ever have a hankering for any of these products, I hope you local friends will keep me in mind.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Because I can!
So there's a rumour at my kid's school...well not so much a rumour, but just how I'm regarded by some of the mothers. Like any sort of world, there is a clique and in many parts of society, those cliques are mean and way too nosy for their own good. One day a mother from this clique hoping to stir up some drama came to inform me that the other mothers thought my style of dress was inappropriate and that they've seen men over at my house during the evening. My first thought was the song "Harper Valley PTA". I didn't bite, I didn't struggle to justify all these men at my house (all of whom drive the same car with the same exact license plate and look very much alike) or my style of dress. But for those who don't know me, it's rare to see me in jeans, I only wear track/yoga pants if I'm going to work out and you bet your bippy that I'm not spending $90.00 on them! I almost always wear heels and I wear dresses and skirts, a lot. Most of them are knee length, I have a couple that skirt an inch or two above my knees. I'm not big on cleavage, and I love those stylist cardigans, so I almost always have one on. My hair is usually done and I normally have my makeup on, which consists of eyeliner, mascara and some tinted lip balm. Anyone else, might assume that I'm going to work at an office, but apparently, my style is inappropriate. Holy shit! I forgot my most important item of clothing...my purse, which is almost always Coach (I have a slight addiction).
So this clique has two moms who really don't like me. I had a run in with one years ago when my dog had the nerve to poop in front of her home, I scooped, but that set her off. I apologized and kept on my way despite her trying to bully me into God knows what. I guess she carries a grudge. Considering she nearly hit me and the dog to confront me with her van, I have a bit of one too. So she and her friend not too long ago came up to ask me why I dressed the way I did, because they wanted to "understand" my need to show off my body and wear heels as they were concerned feminists. Yup! Again, I didn't bite. I just said that I dressed this way because I liked it and kept on moving. Of course I have a mouthful to say, but instead of giving the satisfaction of the drama, I'll let you guys know what is on my mind.
"Dear other mothers. You asked me today why I dressed the way I did. Why I always wore heels that were meant to subjugate women. Why I felt the need to show off my body in form fitting clothes and skirts. One mom thought it was dishonourable to women's bodies to dress the way I do. Well let me tell you something about my body. This body has seen me through a tough life. With an abusive father and a mother who struggled just to make ends meet. I grew up downtown in a neighbourhood where you had to learn how to defend yourself quick, or run very fast. As I'm sure you've seen me walk with my two left feet, defense became my only option. I also had to do this on a pretty poor diet thank you very much. Poverty doesn't allow for a lot of organic, locally grown fruits and veggies, nor filtered water, a billion supplements and yoga times 900.
My body has seen me through 10 years on non stop infections from every sort of cold, flu and strep life could throw at me. I have asthma and allergies and on days like today it simply hurts to breathe. I have flat feet and I can't see five feet in front of me without corrective lenses of some sort.
Despite all of this, I managed to go to school, get an education working with others and requiring a great deal of empathy. I got married young, experienced love, put my life on hold to support my partner build his dreams. I scrimped and saved when we were in debt times a million, I would grocery shop with a stroller walking several kilometers to do so, I'd get up in the middle of the night to comfort, I'd iron, sweep, garden, repair you name it.
This body managed to deliver three beautiful children. To grow and nurture a life, I'm sure you know takes a toll, try it three times in 5 years. My weight fluctuated wildly and it has left me anemic, with constant low blood pressure and the urge to pee every five minutes. Nevermind what it's done to my figure! I've lost 70lbs, and I've also modified my body with surgery and ink to get it to where it is truly mine. This body used to struggle with body image problems and the owner has finally only just begun seeing that she is beautiful.
It has managed to get me through an awful period of my life where I suffered through terrible post partum depression. It was at this time that my husband and partner of 16 years had decided to leave me for someone much younger, thinner and with a lot less mileage. It took abuse as I refused to eat weeks at a time, went on total autopilot for two months. Felt numb for 2 more months. Went through godawful pain and anguish and fought tooth and nail not to sink into serious depths of depression. It's cried til my eyes are red and chest heaving, it's been angry beyond my own comprehension, but restrained enough to not go take out a small village. It has survived a car accident though when, very upset and driving my way down to mediation I managed to hit a bus...with in small part thanks to Honda's safety engineering. Thankfully this body has an awesome support staff in loving children, friends and family.
This body has learned to laugh again. This body has had to rebuild life as I know it. It's had to recreate home to three scared and confused little boys...well not so much the youngest, nothing scares him. It's had to work tirelessly for the past year and change now to fight, rebuild and thrive. It's learned that it can take blows and come back, ready for another day. It's learned to throw a few itself.
So why do I dress and get all dolled up every day? Because I fucking can! Because after all my body has gotten me through, it deserves to look good and feel good. I'd wear a sandwich board listing all that my body has gotten me through, but there isn't one big enough. I've only walked this Earth 33 1/2 years, but I've been through enough for a lifetime and my body still gets back and says "Is that all that you've got!?". I'm tired, so tired, my bones creak and I'd love nothing more than to spend a week in bed, yet every day I'm up at 6am til about 11pm and I am alert, supportive, loving and keeping up with 3 boys, 2 cats and a dog. I go to school, I do well in school, I have a social life, a great boyfriend and even manage to fit in some pretty regular exercise too!
So you think I dishonour my body? I disagree. I honour my body, I stand tall, walk proud and draw attention to myself because I'm am alive, I'm well, I'm happy despite all of the hell I've been through. If I manage to turn a few heads because of that knowledge and the confidence it brings, good for me! And if you and the rest of your yoga pants, mall walking, communal grocery shopping and petty gossiping tribe cannot deal, too freaking bad!
So this clique has two moms who really don't like me. I had a run in with one years ago when my dog had the nerve to poop in front of her home, I scooped, but that set her off. I apologized and kept on my way despite her trying to bully me into God knows what. I guess she carries a grudge. Considering she nearly hit me and the dog to confront me with her van, I have a bit of one too. So she and her friend not too long ago came up to ask me why I dressed the way I did, because they wanted to "understand" my need to show off my body and wear heels as they were concerned feminists. Yup! Again, I didn't bite. I just said that I dressed this way because I liked it and kept on moving. Of course I have a mouthful to say, but instead of giving the satisfaction of the drama, I'll let you guys know what is on my mind.
"Dear other mothers. You asked me today why I dressed the way I did. Why I always wore heels that were meant to subjugate women. Why I felt the need to show off my body in form fitting clothes and skirts. One mom thought it was dishonourable to women's bodies to dress the way I do. Well let me tell you something about my body. This body has seen me through a tough life. With an abusive father and a mother who struggled just to make ends meet. I grew up downtown in a neighbourhood where you had to learn how to defend yourself quick, or run very fast. As I'm sure you've seen me walk with my two left feet, defense became my only option. I also had to do this on a pretty poor diet thank you very much. Poverty doesn't allow for a lot of organic, locally grown fruits and veggies, nor filtered water, a billion supplements and yoga times 900.
My body has seen me through 10 years on non stop infections from every sort of cold, flu and strep life could throw at me. I have asthma and allergies and on days like today it simply hurts to breathe. I have flat feet and I can't see five feet in front of me without corrective lenses of some sort.
Despite all of this, I managed to go to school, get an education working with others and requiring a great deal of empathy. I got married young, experienced love, put my life on hold to support my partner build his dreams. I scrimped and saved when we were in debt times a million, I would grocery shop with a stroller walking several kilometers to do so, I'd get up in the middle of the night to comfort, I'd iron, sweep, garden, repair you name it.
This body managed to deliver three beautiful children. To grow and nurture a life, I'm sure you know takes a toll, try it three times in 5 years. My weight fluctuated wildly and it has left me anemic, with constant low blood pressure and the urge to pee every five minutes. Nevermind what it's done to my figure! I've lost 70lbs, and I've also modified my body with surgery and ink to get it to where it is truly mine. This body used to struggle with body image problems and the owner has finally only just begun seeing that she is beautiful.
It has managed to get me through an awful period of my life where I suffered through terrible post partum depression. It was at this time that my husband and partner of 16 years had decided to leave me for someone much younger, thinner and with a lot less mileage. It took abuse as I refused to eat weeks at a time, went on total autopilot for two months. Felt numb for 2 more months. Went through godawful pain and anguish and fought tooth and nail not to sink into serious depths of depression. It's cried til my eyes are red and chest heaving, it's been angry beyond my own comprehension, but restrained enough to not go take out a small village. It has survived a car accident though when, very upset and driving my way down to mediation I managed to hit a bus...with in small part thanks to Honda's safety engineering. Thankfully this body has an awesome support staff in loving children, friends and family.
This body has learned to laugh again. This body has had to rebuild life as I know it. It's had to recreate home to three scared and confused little boys...well not so much the youngest, nothing scares him. It's had to work tirelessly for the past year and change now to fight, rebuild and thrive. It's learned that it can take blows and come back, ready for another day. It's learned to throw a few itself.
So why do I dress and get all dolled up every day? Because I fucking can! Because after all my body has gotten me through, it deserves to look good and feel good. I'd wear a sandwich board listing all that my body has gotten me through, but there isn't one big enough. I've only walked this Earth 33 1/2 years, but I've been through enough for a lifetime and my body still gets back and says "Is that all that you've got!?". I'm tired, so tired, my bones creak and I'd love nothing more than to spend a week in bed, yet every day I'm up at 6am til about 11pm and I am alert, supportive, loving and keeping up with 3 boys, 2 cats and a dog. I go to school, I do well in school, I have a social life, a great boyfriend and even manage to fit in some pretty regular exercise too!
So you think I dishonour my body? I disagree. I honour my body, I stand tall, walk proud and draw attention to myself because I'm am alive, I'm well, I'm happy despite all of the hell I've been through. If I manage to turn a few heads because of that knowledge and the confidence it brings, good for me! And if you and the rest of your yoga pants, mall walking, communal grocery shopping and petty gossiping tribe cannot deal, too freaking bad!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Disillusioned
I generally try to see the best in people, I feel that having faith in others is a symbol of my spiritual faith. It's been a long slog, but I've generally prevailed without coming out too wounded or bitter. I feel like I've picked myself off the mat after every good left hook, wiped the sweat away, spit the blood out and beckoned life to come on, try again. Why? Because that faith sustained me.
Tonight, I'm not having such an easy time getting up.
I'm left wondering why people do things to hurt others. Never mind your friends, family, children, but complete strangers. I try to go through life, thinking about my footprint about how what I do might affect someone directly and indirectly. And if I hurt someone, I try to make amends, apologize, or if I cannot, at least have some humility in how I behave further so that I don't negatively affect them anymore than I have to. I try to have faith that others do the same, at least most of the time.
I'm struggling with that.
I just don't understand why the hits keep coming. I try to make sense of it, but no matter how much I play by the rules, no matter how much I try to take the higher road, it's not having the desired effect of being treated with some compassion or honour. I was sitting on my couch tonight trying to blank out with a video game, but slowly and tearfully I might add, coming to the conclusion that so many people only live this life with themselves as the giant main focus and its very depressing.
I think I've lived a very charmed life, yes it's been hard, but I've always been very fortunate in my family and friends that I haven't had many opportunities to become too jaded when it comes to dealings with other people in the microlevel. But I dunno, tonight just took a strip out of me and try as I might, I lose a little more faith in the world that people generally stop and think about what sort of impact they may have, before wantonly stepping in and hurting others.
I'm trying to regroup and focus on all the awesome people in my life and hopefully how I try to treat them and plod forward might somehow be repaid at least a little. It does in spades when it comes to friends and family, but I'd really like to see some results in other areas too. In the meantime, I'm going to surround myself with people I love and who love me and try to remind myself of people who go forward carefully, considering their moves in life and how they may effect others, and maybe indirectly themselves when they look back on their actions.
One of my favourite things to think of when I'm feeling low is a few lines from the movie "The Two Towers" part of the Lord of the Rings epic.
When an exhausted Frodo says to Sam, his companion "I can't do this" Sam replies
But
in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must
pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the
clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant
something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think,
Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots
of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They kept going because
they were holding on to something.Frodo replies "What are we holding onto Sam?"And Sam says
"There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for."
Tonight, I'm not having such an easy time getting up.
I'm left wondering why people do things to hurt others. Never mind your friends, family, children, but complete strangers. I try to go through life, thinking about my footprint about how what I do might affect someone directly and indirectly. And if I hurt someone, I try to make amends, apologize, or if I cannot, at least have some humility in how I behave further so that I don't negatively affect them anymore than I have to. I try to have faith that others do the same, at least most of the time.
I'm struggling with that.
I just don't understand why the hits keep coming. I try to make sense of it, but no matter how much I play by the rules, no matter how much I try to take the higher road, it's not having the desired effect of being treated with some compassion or honour. I was sitting on my couch tonight trying to blank out with a video game, but slowly and tearfully I might add, coming to the conclusion that so many people only live this life with themselves as the giant main focus and its very depressing.
I think I've lived a very charmed life, yes it's been hard, but I've always been very fortunate in my family and friends that I haven't had many opportunities to become too jaded when it comes to dealings with other people in the microlevel. But I dunno, tonight just took a strip out of me and try as I might, I lose a little more faith in the world that people generally stop and think about what sort of impact they may have, before wantonly stepping in and hurting others.
I'm trying to regroup and focus on all the awesome people in my life and hopefully how I try to treat them and plod forward might somehow be repaid at least a little. It does in spades when it comes to friends and family, but I'd really like to see some results in other areas too. In the meantime, I'm going to surround myself with people I love and who love me and try to remind myself of people who go forward carefully, considering their moves in life and how they may effect others, and maybe indirectly themselves when they look back on their actions.
One of my favourite things to think of when I'm feeling low is a few lines from the movie "The Two Towers" part of the Lord of the Rings epic.
When an exhausted Frodo says to Sam, his companion "I can't do this" Sam replies
I
know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are.
It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really
mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you
didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How
could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?
"There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for."
Friday, May 18, 2012
Mommy Tips
I meant to write this for Mother's Day, trying to keep with a theme and all, but three kids, pancakes microwaved for 12 minutes for Mothers Day breakfast and a busy day, well you can imagine how much time these days I get to sit down and write. I actually took some time in class to journal...yeah, I'm a great student like that.
Anyhow, my post is mommy tips, it was inspired by an experience I had last summer. I was sitting on a bench in a fairly affluent area in my city. We're having a nice conversation and I see them, 4 mothers with $1500.00 strollers a piece, and babies 6 months and under. Either I'm getting crusty with age or with motherhood, but I don't have a tolerance for a lot of new moms. I tensed up immediately, because they stopped on the boardwalk in front of us (ooops, did I just give the area away? Well anyone living in Toronto, is now rolling their eyes and nodding "Of course you had this ridiculous experience there!!!") and they milled about for a few minutes trying to decide where to go. They proceeded to sit on the benches right next to us, I should add there are a million benches in the area, but it's a free world, sit next to the two people enjoying a quiet conversation and drown that out with your mommy wars.
So I got a good earful of their conversation, it covered everything from trying to one up each other's birth and how natural it was, to how early their baby was smiling and hitting those milestones outlined in every new pop culture parenting book. Now I have to say I'm no innocent, I had those conversations too, but I'd like to think I wasn't nearly so mental. I was lucky to fall into a group of friends who were all new moms, but not really up on the one upmanship, unless you counted who got the best bargain on diapers. My kind of crowd. But I'm sure I had my moments, which I'm sure those friends will remind me of tonight over a glass of wine. Anyhow, as they're going on, I'm getting more and more annoyed and I had to do everything in my power to not yell "Who cares??? This shit isn't going to matter when your kid is three, licking yogurt off your floor, poking blueberries up their nose and climbing up the walls!!! It's going to matter less, when your kid is in grade one, arguing with you that the sky is not blue and trying to master the art of farting with his armpits!!!"
So new mommies, let me give you some tips, I admit I am far from an expert, at least everywhere but my own personal universe, so take them with a grain of salt if you will, but they have certainly helped my sanity.
1. Tell any Monday morning quarterback who has the audacity to analyze how you've given birth to put their head where the sun doesn't shine. Seriously! If you had the birth you wanted, and you and baby are safe and healthy and happy, that is ALL that matters. Even if you didn't have the birth you wanted, but are able to make peace with that, that is ALL that matters. I HATE Monday morning quarterbacks who pass judgment on moms who have had epidurals or c-sections. I hate it when they tell a mom outright, I hate it when they sugar coat it. Whether they are a stay at home mom, or the guru of all things birthing, it's none of their fucking business! They have no right to judge you. And when you tell them that and they look confused, you can tell them that Mamajoy and her 2 out of 3 births sans epidural and one at home told you to say that! Believe me, 6 years later, and all my friends kids who were birthed in many different ways, believe me, the c section kids aren't sitting in corners rocking themselves because they haven't had the glory of a water birth in the ocean with dolphins coming in to greet them.
2. Same goes for feeding. I know, there are a gabillion studies that point out that breastfed kids have a few more IQ points than non breastfed kids, but if you can't breastfeed, think about it, worst case scenario, have you ever known a person who has been too stupid to live a happy life because they were bottle fed? One of my friends didn't even get the luxury of formula, but evaporated milk or some other shit like that, and they're not doing too poorly for themselves. But ultimately, what is the ultimate wish that every parent has for their child? That they are happy? There hasn't been any studies that says formula prevents this. I was fed formula, I grew up in poverty, I'm going through a divorce for some pretty shitty reasons, but guess what? I'm still happy! I have awesome friends, great kids, food in my belly, the best family, an amazing boyfriend and a lot of cool things on the go. What will keep your kids happy is the ability to instill grace in them to recognize all that they have going for them. If your kids need to be a rocket scientist or be pulling down 7 figures as a result of those few extra IQ points in order to make them happy, then you're buying into a brand of parenting, of life! that is way different than mine
3. My oldest was singing songs, accurately identifying body parts and barnyard noises by the time he was 1, he was also potty trained in 2 weeks. He was sleeping through the night at 4 months AND taking naps 2x a day. By all accounts he was brilliant and the most awesome superbaby EVAH! Guess what? He's in grade 1, doing perfectly well, but not quite on the road to building a time space machine. He does have the ability to think up an excellent counterargument at the speed of light, but that also works against me A LOT! He hit a lot of milestones early, and some of his friends much later, but it all comes out in the wash, trust me.
4. Baby gear. I have a stroller library. No joke, my friends made fun of me, they still do. I've now traded in strollers for something far more awesome, which is purses and shoes (my friends all now want me to will those purses to them should I meet my untimely demise). Really, my kids are not better off, or more ergonomically designed because of the millions of strollers. Kids who've had nothing but organic fibre clothes made by silkworms from Awesomeville aren't in any better position than kids in regular old cotton. Trust me, they will outgrow, out last, out live and break everything else, do not spend a mint and do not feel inferior because someone has the baby high chair supreme deluxe 5000. Their money, they can spend it how they want, but in the end, their kid is still going to toss that oatmeal across the room just the same. Now if there truly was a device that washed, dried, folded, hung up and put away all the laundry....THEN be jealous.
5. Parenting philosophies. Geeze louise the things women put themselves through, comparing parenting styles is just crazy. You know what is the best parenting philosophy? The one that works best for your family, just like the one that works best for the Joneses family is the best philosophy for them. Believe me, the kids who are getting McDonalds once a week are not suffering horribly compared to the kids who are getting homegrown home made lentil cakes. I was once talking to a father of two grown women, both of the sisters had children about the same time. One was a serious attachment parent, and the other was more mainstream. The grandfather remarked that the kids were pretty much the same kids, neither more brighter, well adjusted or happier. It was a lightbulb for me, both of these kids were loved, but raised fairly differently, however other than superficial things, they both had similar values, attachments and ways of going about being kids. Seriously, if you put a bunch of kids in a room with different loving parenting philosophies, you're not going to have an easy time telling which kid was raised this way or that.
6. SAHM vs WOHMs. Do not torture yourself. Do what you need to do. There's been enough kids who have had to go to daycare who are just as socially well adjusted and bonded to their parents as those who have been raised at home. I speak as a former stay at home parent. My kids friends...still enjoy the same bum and fart and poop jokes, still bring their moms flowers, they're not burning down houses or torturing animals because they were in daycare from an early age.
Bottom line is don't get sucked into the competition game. Mommy groups can be wonderful things, if you find the right ones. I was lucky in that I had the right one which had given me my core group of amazing friends whom I can go to with any problem without being judged. Other ones, notsomuch. If you're stuck in the latter, run! Run away! There are cool ones out there. And in the meantime, remember that in 6 years from now when your little ones are on the playground, learning how to read, learning how much fun it is to gross you out with their wiggling tooth, what you put on their arse to catch their poop, what you fed them, whether you used an exersaucer for 20 minutes of respite is going to have little bearing on the human beings they grow into. Its the love you give them, the examples you provide and the values you instill that will determine what kind of person they grow into. Believe me, 10 years from now as I'm dealing with all the trials and tribulations of THREE teenagers, I'll be lucky enough to remember what I did in these early days, I'll just be trying to survive and enjoy the wild ride they're sure to provide. So plllllleeeeeease try not to torture yourself too much and keep in mind that parenthood is a lifetime gig and if you're getting stressed about these microissues now, you're in for a very bumpy ride later. Keep the big picture in mind and believe me, whether your kid wears Gymboree or George brand clothing, will be a very small pixel in that frame.
Anyhow, my post is mommy tips, it was inspired by an experience I had last summer. I was sitting on a bench in a fairly affluent area in my city. We're having a nice conversation and I see them, 4 mothers with $1500.00 strollers a piece, and babies 6 months and under. Either I'm getting crusty with age or with motherhood, but I don't have a tolerance for a lot of new moms. I tensed up immediately, because they stopped on the boardwalk in front of us (ooops, did I just give the area away? Well anyone living in Toronto, is now rolling their eyes and nodding "Of course you had this ridiculous experience there!!!") and they milled about for a few minutes trying to decide where to go. They proceeded to sit on the benches right next to us, I should add there are a million benches in the area, but it's a free world, sit next to the two people enjoying a quiet conversation and drown that out with your mommy wars.
So I got a good earful of their conversation, it covered everything from trying to one up each other's birth and how natural it was, to how early their baby was smiling and hitting those milestones outlined in every new pop culture parenting book. Now I have to say I'm no innocent, I had those conversations too, but I'd like to think I wasn't nearly so mental. I was lucky to fall into a group of friends who were all new moms, but not really up on the one upmanship, unless you counted who got the best bargain on diapers. My kind of crowd. But I'm sure I had my moments, which I'm sure those friends will remind me of tonight over a glass of wine. Anyhow, as they're going on, I'm getting more and more annoyed and I had to do everything in my power to not yell "Who cares??? This shit isn't going to matter when your kid is three, licking yogurt off your floor, poking blueberries up their nose and climbing up the walls!!! It's going to matter less, when your kid is in grade one, arguing with you that the sky is not blue and trying to master the art of farting with his armpits!!!"
So new mommies, let me give you some tips, I admit I am far from an expert, at least everywhere but my own personal universe, so take them with a grain of salt if you will, but they have certainly helped my sanity.
1. Tell any Monday morning quarterback who has the audacity to analyze how you've given birth to put their head where the sun doesn't shine. Seriously! If you had the birth you wanted, and you and baby are safe and healthy and happy, that is ALL that matters. Even if you didn't have the birth you wanted, but are able to make peace with that, that is ALL that matters. I HATE Monday morning quarterbacks who pass judgment on moms who have had epidurals or c-sections. I hate it when they tell a mom outright, I hate it when they sugar coat it. Whether they are a stay at home mom, or the guru of all things birthing, it's none of their fucking business! They have no right to judge you. And when you tell them that and they look confused, you can tell them that Mamajoy and her 2 out of 3 births sans epidural and one at home told you to say that! Believe me, 6 years later, and all my friends kids who were birthed in many different ways, believe me, the c section kids aren't sitting in corners rocking themselves because they haven't had the glory of a water birth in the ocean with dolphins coming in to greet them.
2. Same goes for feeding. I know, there are a gabillion studies that point out that breastfed kids have a few more IQ points than non breastfed kids, but if you can't breastfeed, think about it, worst case scenario, have you ever known a person who has been too stupid to live a happy life because they were bottle fed? One of my friends didn't even get the luxury of formula, but evaporated milk or some other shit like that, and they're not doing too poorly for themselves. But ultimately, what is the ultimate wish that every parent has for their child? That they are happy? There hasn't been any studies that says formula prevents this. I was fed formula, I grew up in poverty, I'm going through a divorce for some pretty shitty reasons, but guess what? I'm still happy! I have awesome friends, great kids, food in my belly, the best family, an amazing boyfriend and a lot of cool things on the go. What will keep your kids happy is the ability to instill grace in them to recognize all that they have going for them. If your kids need to be a rocket scientist or be pulling down 7 figures as a result of those few extra IQ points in order to make them happy, then you're buying into a brand of parenting, of life! that is way different than mine
3. My oldest was singing songs, accurately identifying body parts and barnyard noises by the time he was 1, he was also potty trained in 2 weeks. He was sleeping through the night at 4 months AND taking naps 2x a day. By all accounts he was brilliant and the most awesome superbaby EVAH! Guess what? He's in grade 1, doing perfectly well, but not quite on the road to building a time space machine. He does have the ability to think up an excellent counterargument at the speed of light, but that also works against me A LOT! He hit a lot of milestones early, and some of his friends much later, but it all comes out in the wash, trust me.
4. Baby gear. I have a stroller library. No joke, my friends made fun of me, they still do. I've now traded in strollers for something far more awesome, which is purses and shoes (my friends all now want me to will those purses to them should I meet my untimely demise). Really, my kids are not better off, or more ergonomically designed because of the millions of strollers. Kids who've had nothing but organic fibre clothes made by silkworms from Awesomeville aren't in any better position than kids in regular old cotton. Trust me, they will outgrow, out last, out live and break everything else, do not spend a mint and do not feel inferior because someone has the baby high chair supreme deluxe 5000. Their money, they can spend it how they want, but in the end, their kid is still going to toss that oatmeal across the room just the same. Now if there truly was a device that washed, dried, folded, hung up and put away all the laundry....THEN be jealous.
5. Parenting philosophies. Geeze louise the things women put themselves through, comparing parenting styles is just crazy. You know what is the best parenting philosophy? The one that works best for your family, just like the one that works best for the Joneses family is the best philosophy for them. Believe me, the kids who are getting McDonalds once a week are not suffering horribly compared to the kids who are getting homegrown home made lentil cakes. I was once talking to a father of two grown women, both of the sisters had children about the same time. One was a serious attachment parent, and the other was more mainstream. The grandfather remarked that the kids were pretty much the same kids, neither more brighter, well adjusted or happier. It was a lightbulb for me, both of these kids were loved, but raised fairly differently, however other than superficial things, they both had similar values, attachments and ways of going about being kids. Seriously, if you put a bunch of kids in a room with different loving parenting philosophies, you're not going to have an easy time telling which kid was raised this way or that.
6. SAHM vs WOHMs. Do not torture yourself. Do what you need to do. There's been enough kids who have had to go to daycare who are just as socially well adjusted and bonded to their parents as those who have been raised at home. I speak as a former stay at home parent. My kids friends...still enjoy the same bum and fart and poop jokes, still bring their moms flowers, they're not burning down houses or torturing animals because they were in daycare from an early age.
Bottom line is don't get sucked into the competition game. Mommy groups can be wonderful things, if you find the right ones. I was lucky in that I had the right one which had given me my core group of amazing friends whom I can go to with any problem without being judged. Other ones, notsomuch. If you're stuck in the latter, run! Run away! There are cool ones out there. And in the meantime, remember that in 6 years from now when your little ones are on the playground, learning how to read, learning how much fun it is to gross you out with their wiggling tooth, what you put on their arse to catch their poop, what you fed them, whether you used an exersaucer for 20 minutes of respite is going to have little bearing on the human beings they grow into. Its the love you give them, the examples you provide and the values you instill that will determine what kind of person they grow into. Believe me, 10 years from now as I'm dealing with all the trials and tribulations of THREE teenagers, I'll be lucky enough to remember what I did in these early days, I'll just be trying to survive and enjoy the wild ride they're sure to provide. So plllllleeeeeease try not to torture yourself too much and keep in mind that parenthood is a lifetime gig and if you're getting stressed about these microissues now, you're in for a very bumpy ride later. Keep the big picture in mind and believe me, whether your kid wears Gymboree or George brand clothing, will be a very small pixel in that frame.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Dear Atheists
Let me first preface this by saying obviously this isn't addressed to all atheists. I like to separate people in religion into two groups, it's a little elementary and probably has a billion loop holes, but bear with me. There are just those who simply are religious. They go about their daily lives, you might know they are religious, they might attend church or wear a sign of their religion on them, but overall, your impression of me isn't "Oh, it's Joy and she is a CHRISTIAN" because I'm not squawking about it 24/7. It's a part of them, but its not the only part.
Then there are those who are believers. They're the ones that have a religious counterpoint for a lot of the content you may express, they think that their views should apply to all, they go door to door, they proselytize and they think anyone who doesn't toe the line is wrong or pitiful. Frankly they annoy the hell out of me. But I believe the same applies to atheists. There are those who simply go about their daily lives and that's it. Then there are those who BELIEVE it, and I often find that they have a lot of similarities to those religious believers. So for all those who go about their daily lives and don't feel the need to mock, or argue with, or need folks to justify their faith, please mosey on.
So, this letter goes out to the believers.
I'm a Christian, I'm not an idiot. I believe in a higher force, but I don't believe s/he is sitting on a cloud pulling some puppet strings. So when you ask me if there is a God, why do they allow x, y, z to happen, I'm going to get frustrated. Why? Because faith is a pretty personal thing and we all interpret it a little differently. For example, I believe in evolution. I think Darwin is right, he's great. There's no way on Earth did we just appear happy little creature living amongst dinosaurs (though that would be my kids dream come true). Science is great! Yay science. I live in awe of all the advances we've had in just my time.
I can't prove or disprove anything. It's faith, it's believing in something that is hard to believe in. I can't argue the finer points of religious texts, don't ask me to. I'm going to shrug. I have read the Bible and I can recall lots of things, but asking me to figure out what Leviticus 2:13 means, I'm not going to be able to help you. I try to learn and spend time devoted to learning, but lets be real here, I have a life outside of religion. I have three kids, I'm constantly on the go, I keep adding more things to make my schedule insane, and I'm not a theological scholar. What I can give you is this heartfelt explanation of why this is important to me, but really, I'm not even interested in proving or disproving to you, it's not that important to me.
I'm not a conservative. Not by any stretch. I am a Canadian progressive Christian, the reason why I specify Canadian is that to identify as a Canadian progressive, it means you're pretty damned left wing. I'm not a Communist, but I believe wholly and fundamentally in things like universal health care, a good social fabric for those disadvantaged, anti-oppression concepts, same sex marriage and full rights given to those couples. I wouldn't belong to a faith group that didn't believe in this. I believe in birth control, I use birth control! I believe in reproductive rights and will fight like a rabid trapped African Honey Badger to anyone who tries to take them away. YOU HEAR THAT HARPER????? I think being a social conservative goes against my brand of religion. Above all else, I believe in loving thy neighbour as much as I love myself. I'm not always good about that, but its the thing I believe most important in the Bible.
Speaking of which, I don't follow it word for word. Yes I guess I pick and choose? Does that make me less faithful? I dunno, who am I to judge, who are you? Ultimately, I guess when I get into the afterlife and God is pissed, I'll know. But I don't live in fear or worry of that. In fact, I don't live in fear of God, I don't make certain that I don't wear mixed fabrics daily. I even break the 10 Commandments from time to time...hell, I'm separated, AND I'm in a relationship not with my husband and using birth control, you put it together! I swear, drink, dance. I'm not a goody two shoes and I don't keep the company of goody two shoes. The Harper Valley PTA moms at my kids school believe I'm a hussy for Christsakes (see?). I believe God loves me, flaws and all. I try to be a good person, I try to be a loving person and live with forgiveness, honesty and good motivations. Do I always succeed? Hell no. And while I don't get a spiritual time out, or go to confession, I do in the end, in my day to day life reap the consequences, even if its just feeling like I let myself down and that's a pretty shitty thing.
Back to all the thousands of itty bitty rules, I don't follow them. Really, how the hell is anyone supposed to, they're insane? Good grief! I use the Bible as a larger guide for life. I love parables and from them I get my larger messages. And really, they're not all that different from examples people have set in your lives and how you aspire to those examples. For me, I get those examples and I have these stories which I believe were divinely inspired.
Do I know that there is a God or that Jesus rose from the dead plain as day? I admit, it's a bit of a stretch. I can go into detail, but it's long and I'll spare you. I'm a Capricorn, true and true, if I can't see it, touch it, smell it, taste it, it's hard for me to grasp as real, but sometimes even us old goats have to make a leap of faith. Like love for example. I mean, you can touch someone who says they love you, they can do many things for you, build a life, have kids but they can lie (Not that *I* have ever experienced that! lol). And while you can make a very good argument that faith has no tangible examples, I believe there is, with every good deed and person who comes into my life or works hard to make the world a better place against hatred, or evil. Maybe I'm just manufacturing these things in my mind, but really, every time I see good against all odds and compassion, it just reinforces this belief I have way down deep inside that we are all connected in a spiritual way and I cannot wrap my head around all this energy and thought and love that people have, simply ceases to exist when we die.
If you're tsking me, that's fine, you don't have to believe what I believe. You might even think I'm some misguided fool. But overall, I'm sure you'd find me a funny, cheerful, caring and pretty smart person to be around. You needn't pity me, and I guess what I'm asking is to not be generalized. I don't want to be lumped in with Tea Partiers, and I don't do blind faith very well. I make a point of never pressing my religion on anyone, well directly...that whole thing about being progressive has a bit to do with my spirituality, but point is, I'm not telling you to be a Christian, I never will, I don't believe in it. If you don't believe you don't believe. That's it, end of story...oh and by the way, I don't believe you're going to roast in hell, I don't even really believe in hell. Betcha didn't see that one coming? Not all of us are alike. I know ministers who anyone can sit down with in a bar and you'd never know they were ministers. They will sit and have an academic discussion about their religious texts with open minds and hearts and not once try to make you convert. But really, get to know some of us before you write us off. This applies for folks of different religions too, they're pretty cool too.We're as varied as grains of sand...sorry, cheesy cliche, next time I'll write with more caffeine.
Why my religion is important to me is that it helps me to see the good things, which in turn inspires me to do good things. That's a good thing eh? But before you assume that simply because I'm religious, I'm motivated by fear, hate or blind faith, get to know me. My spirituality has no place for negativity, its there to get me motivated by love, even if I want to go biting people in the face, which is a daily occurrence, so really, the world benefits from me being religious, and considering there is an Incredible Hulk Joy lurking somewhere deep in side, it's probably a good thing that I'm a believer.
I've taken some time to kind of explain where I'm coming from spiritually, for greater understanding between folks, but I don't have a burning need to justify my faith. It's just there, like my love for my kids, or sweets, or swimming on a hot summer day.
So, I wish you well in life, going about your daily business, as I do, and enjoying the good moments thoroughly. I hope you wish the same for me, since all in all, I'm a pretty awesome person, even for a religious person. ;)
Then there are those who are believers. They're the ones that have a religious counterpoint for a lot of the content you may express, they think that their views should apply to all, they go door to door, they proselytize and they think anyone who doesn't toe the line is wrong or pitiful. Frankly they annoy the hell out of me. But I believe the same applies to atheists. There are those who simply go about their daily lives and that's it. Then there are those who BELIEVE it, and I often find that they have a lot of similarities to those religious believers. So for all those who go about their daily lives and don't feel the need to mock, or argue with, or need folks to justify their faith, please mosey on.
So, this letter goes out to the believers.
I'm a Christian, I'm not an idiot. I believe in a higher force, but I don't believe s/he is sitting on a cloud pulling some puppet strings. So when you ask me if there is a God, why do they allow x, y, z to happen, I'm going to get frustrated. Why? Because faith is a pretty personal thing and we all interpret it a little differently. For example, I believe in evolution. I think Darwin is right, he's great. There's no way on Earth did we just appear happy little creature living amongst dinosaurs (though that would be my kids dream come true). Science is great! Yay science. I live in awe of all the advances we've had in just my time.
I can't prove or disprove anything. It's faith, it's believing in something that is hard to believe in. I can't argue the finer points of religious texts, don't ask me to. I'm going to shrug. I have read the Bible and I can recall lots of things, but asking me to figure out what Leviticus 2:13 means, I'm not going to be able to help you. I try to learn and spend time devoted to learning, but lets be real here, I have a life outside of religion. I have three kids, I'm constantly on the go, I keep adding more things to make my schedule insane, and I'm not a theological scholar. What I can give you is this heartfelt explanation of why this is important to me, but really, I'm not even interested in proving or disproving to you, it's not that important to me.
I'm not a conservative. Not by any stretch. I am a Canadian progressive Christian, the reason why I specify Canadian is that to identify as a Canadian progressive, it means you're pretty damned left wing. I'm not a Communist, but I believe wholly and fundamentally in things like universal health care, a good social fabric for those disadvantaged, anti-oppression concepts, same sex marriage and full rights given to those couples. I wouldn't belong to a faith group that didn't believe in this. I believe in birth control, I use birth control! I believe in reproductive rights and will fight like a rabid trapped African Honey Badger to anyone who tries to take them away. YOU HEAR THAT HARPER????? I think being a social conservative goes against my brand of religion. Above all else, I believe in loving thy neighbour as much as I love myself. I'm not always good about that, but its the thing I believe most important in the Bible.
Speaking of which, I don't follow it word for word. Yes I guess I pick and choose? Does that make me less faithful? I dunno, who am I to judge, who are you? Ultimately, I guess when I get into the afterlife and God is pissed, I'll know. But I don't live in fear or worry of that. In fact, I don't live in fear of God, I don't make certain that I don't wear mixed fabrics daily. I even break the 10 Commandments from time to time...hell, I'm separated, AND I'm in a relationship not with my husband and using birth control, you put it together! I swear, drink, dance. I'm not a goody two shoes and I don't keep the company of goody two shoes. The Harper Valley PTA moms at my kids school believe I'm a hussy for Christsakes (see?). I believe God loves me, flaws and all. I try to be a good person, I try to be a loving person and live with forgiveness, honesty and good motivations. Do I always succeed? Hell no. And while I don't get a spiritual time out, or go to confession, I do in the end, in my day to day life reap the consequences, even if its just feeling like I let myself down and that's a pretty shitty thing.
Back to all the thousands of itty bitty rules, I don't follow them. Really, how the hell is anyone supposed to, they're insane? Good grief! I use the Bible as a larger guide for life. I love parables and from them I get my larger messages. And really, they're not all that different from examples people have set in your lives and how you aspire to those examples. For me, I get those examples and I have these stories which I believe were divinely inspired.
Do I know that there is a God or that Jesus rose from the dead plain as day? I admit, it's a bit of a stretch. I can go into detail, but it's long and I'll spare you. I'm a Capricorn, true and true, if I can't see it, touch it, smell it, taste it, it's hard for me to grasp as real, but sometimes even us old goats have to make a leap of faith. Like love for example. I mean, you can touch someone who says they love you, they can do many things for you, build a life, have kids but they can lie (Not that *I* have ever experienced that! lol). And while you can make a very good argument that faith has no tangible examples, I believe there is, with every good deed and person who comes into my life or works hard to make the world a better place against hatred, or evil. Maybe I'm just manufacturing these things in my mind, but really, every time I see good against all odds and compassion, it just reinforces this belief I have way down deep inside that we are all connected in a spiritual way and I cannot wrap my head around all this energy and thought and love that people have, simply ceases to exist when we die.
If you're tsking me, that's fine, you don't have to believe what I believe. You might even think I'm some misguided fool. But overall, I'm sure you'd find me a funny, cheerful, caring and pretty smart person to be around. You needn't pity me, and I guess what I'm asking is to not be generalized. I don't want to be lumped in with Tea Partiers, and I don't do blind faith very well. I make a point of never pressing my religion on anyone, well directly...that whole thing about being progressive has a bit to do with my spirituality, but point is, I'm not telling you to be a Christian, I never will, I don't believe in it. If you don't believe you don't believe. That's it, end of story...oh and by the way, I don't believe you're going to roast in hell, I don't even really believe in hell. Betcha didn't see that one coming? Not all of us are alike. I know ministers who anyone can sit down with in a bar and you'd never know they were ministers. They will sit and have an academic discussion about their religious texts with open minds and hearts and not once try to make you convert. But really, get to know some of us before you write us off. This applies for folks of different religions too, they're pretty cool too.We're as varied as grains of sand...sorry, cheesy cliche, next time I'll write with more caffeine.
Why my religion is important to me is that it helps me to see the good things, which in turn inspires me to do good things. That's a good thing eh? But before you assume that simply because I'm religious, I'm motivated by fear, hate or blind faith, get to know me. My spirituality has no place for negativity, its there to get me motivated by love, even if I want to go biting people in the face, which is a daily occurrence, so really, the world benefits from me being religious, and considering there is an Incredible Hulk Joy lurking somewhere deep in side, it's probably a good thing that I'm a believer.
I've taken some time to kind of explain where I'm coming from spiritually, for greater understanding between folks, but I don't have a burning need to justify my faith. It's just there, like my love for my kids, or sweets, or swimming on a hot summer day.
So, I wish you well in life, going about your daily business, as I do, and enjoying the good moments thoroughly. I hope you wish the same for me, since all in all, I'm a pretty awesome person, even for a religious person. ;)
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Circles
I wonder if this happens to everyone, but I notice a lot of circling in my life as of late. A lot of things going on in my life have stemmed from me spending a lot more time back home in my old community. I remember taking a class last year and it let out early and I didn't want to go home because all that was waiting for me there was a lot of broken dreams and heartache. So I called my mom, asked if she wanted a coffee, and she went and grabbed my family and we had a big ol gab session. I needed the hugs and the unconditional TLC that only your relatively sane family can give you. Anyhow, that turned into me spending a lot more time back home and bringing my kids there, something I hadn't done too often in previous years. It allowed me to reconnect with who I was before marriage and kids and remember that fireball and it's allowed me to proceed with life a little more easily and has given me strength to move forward.
Anyhow, fast forward to today, I'm at a place where I volunteered and worked for nearly 20 years ago. I really hate the fact that I can say that, but yes, it was 20 years ago when I entered my teens. I worked at this organization as a youth writer and was published! So if you want someone to blame for me foisting my thoughts and writings on the world, it's them since they told me that I was somewhat good at it. I'm back at this place offering myself up as a volunteer. I need something in my life while I wait for school, but I also want to get back into my community and give back. The woman I was talking to, I was rehashing an old story where I had written an article about our local community police liaison committee and it wasn't too favourable. I was then summoned to a meeting, where a dozen or so grown adults proceeded to tear me a new one. They were mad, livid. It's not what I had written was untrue, but they didn't like the way I called them on it. So I was telling her that I had to go to the local police precinct where this meeting was taking place, and the then staff inspector, who is now chief of police in my fair city was kind enough to chair it. So as I'm recounting this story, it dawns on me, that police building was torn down, the agency where I worked out of to write that article was torn down, and that agency was where I was retelling the story today, sits on the former site of the police building. In fact the chewing out I got, happened within about 15 feet of where we were sitting. (Part of me thought HA!!!! I admit that) It was just such a cool wow moment for me. Nearly 20 years ago, I had written a story that had gotten me into trouble and here I was again, retelling this story, hoping to give back to the agency that got me writing in the first place.
I like to reflect on my life a lot lately and that despite my then efforts to run away from the community I grew up in and leave all the bad things behind, I neglected to see all the good things I left behind too. I thank whatever force is out there to give me the wisdom that day to head back home and be reminded of what I was missing in my life. It wasn't high powered positions or lots of money and influence, I realized I might never see a backstage pass again in my life, but returning home, I had regained so much more. I remember the poverty and despair, but I also remember the hope and determination. A type of love and character that can only be found by people who have walked through hell to see the other end and were all the more wiser for it. I've been given so many gifts from my home and community, the ability and confidence to write and put myself out there being one of them, but the friends, family I've been blessed with. The connections that you have where you might not have seen someone in 15 years, but you pick up like you've never left and welcomed back with open arms, no matter how much you've changed for the better or worse. I hope everyone has a special place and community like this that they can retreat to and get the opportunity to truly see and experience how valuable a resource it is to have in one's life.
Anyhow, fast forward to today, I'm at a place where I volunteered and worked for nearly 20 years ago. I really hate the fact that I can say that, but yes, it was 20 years ago when I entered my teens. I worked at this organization as a youth writer and was published! So if you want someone to blame for me foisting my thoughts and writings on the world, it's them since they told me that I was somewhat good at it. I'm back at this place offering myself up as a volunteer. I need something in my life while I wait for school, but I also want to get back into my community and give back. The woman I was talking to, I was rehashing an old story where I had written an article about our local community police liaison committee and it wasn't too favourable. I was then summoned to a meeting, where a dozen or so grown adults proceeded to tear me a new one. They were mad, livid. It's not what I had written was untrue, but they didn't like the way I called them on it. So I was telling her that I had to go to the local police precinct where this meeting was taking place, and the then staff inspector, who is now chief of police in my fair city was kind enough to chair it. So as I'm recounting this story, it dawns on me, that police building was torn down, the agency where I worked out of to write that article was torn down, and that agency was where I was retelling the story today, sits on the former site of the police building. In fact the chewing out I got, happened within about 15 feet of where we were sitting. (Part of me thought HA!!!! I admit that) It was just such a cool wow moment for me. Nearly 20 years ago, I had written a story that had gotten me into trouble and here I was again, retelling this story, hoping to give back to the agency that got me writing in the first place.
I like to reflect on my life a lot lately and that despite my then efforts to run away from the community I grew up in and leave all the bad things behind, I neglected to see all the good things I left behind too. I thank whatever force is out there to give me the wisdom that day to head back home and be reminded of what I was missing in my life. It wasn't high powered positions or lots of money and influence, I realized I might never see a backstage pass again in my life, but returning home, I had regained so much more. I remember the poverty and despair, but I also remember the hope and determination. A type of love and character that can only be found by people who have walked through hell to see the other end and were all the more wiser for it. I've been given so many gifts from my home and community, the ability and confidence to write and put myself out there being one of them, but the friends, family I've been blessed with. The connections that you have where you might not have seen someone in 15 years, but you pick up like you've never left and welcomed back with open arms, no matter how much you've changed for the better or worse. I hope everyone has a special place and community like this that they can retreat to and get the opportunity to truly see and experience how valuable a resource it is to have in one's life.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
The sexy
I meant to write this blog post something like a month ago, I forgot about it, but was having a conversation tonight that reminded me of it. What triggered this was a Facebook status update about looking sexy or something. I correlated it to looking good, and someone I respect, love and admire said that sexiness is about attitude. I definitely agree with the sentiment, but I don't know if I agree that that is exclusive to what sexiness is, at least for me.
I don't consider myself as some epic sexy icon, in fact for the longest time, I didn't feel attractive at all. Before that, I KNEW that I had it going on. I was a size 12, young, full of piss and vinegar and rocking the hourglass figure, mind you, my hair wasn't nearly as fabulous! As time went on, I gained weight, got up to a 22 at my highest, but maintained a regular 18. Logically I knew I wasn't ugly, but I didn't feel it. Needless to say my self esteem in that regard dropped to an all time low at the time of my separation. It was at that point I made a decision that no matter how shitty I felt, I was going to look well put together. Fake it until I make it, that was my idea. In a completely unrelated move to my looks, but affected it wildly, I pretty much stopped eating well. That was pure stress, but needless to say, it took me down from a size 20, to a 14, which is pretty much ideal on my body, or at least my ideal.
Anyhow, every once in a while, someone would comment that despite how awful my circumstances were, I looked fabulous and that gave me a little boost. Now while I shouldn't tie my happiness to how others view how awesome I look, I needed that superficial bump. Slowly, as time went on and I continued to fake it until I make it, I noticed here and there that I was being noticed. Again, superficial, but much needed at the time. What slowly started to happen though, was that every now and again, I'd catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and be taken away by that pretty person looking back. It was a split second before the Critical Joy jumped up from her coffee break to take that moment away, but it was something I hadn't experienced in the past several years.
My therapist mentioned that it was important as a sexual being to have your loving partner desire you, not that I had a partner, but I think to a degree, knowing that I could turn a head now and then, it somewhat woke up that Joy who remembered that I was sexual and desirable, at least to a few people. However I realized that I was still tying my confidence to how others see me. It would give me a boost, but it was short lived and very surface like. When I noticed that a certain fella was making eyes at me, then something really jumped, because here was someone that I was interested in, who I could see found me easy on the eye. Some months later, the affection is based on so much more than my looks, but it's once again nice to feel desired when I use my eyes or smile to evoke that reaction. That said, more and more, those split second glimpses in the mirror started to grow longer and Critical Joy started to shut her yap. Confident Joy was clearly sitting on her giving her noogies because I started saying "not too shabby girl" to myself.
Then I went and did something radical, I had a tummy tuck. Really, probably the antithesis of sexy truly coming from within, but strangely enough, now I feel it. My body is far from the Hollywood ideal. I'm not 90lbs soaking wet with insanely huge tits. I have fat, cellulite, wrinkles, greys, my arms flap, I'm a solid size 14 and without more surgery, or serious boob deflation, I don't see that changing anytime soon and I spend enough time tweezing that if I ever were granted three wishes for myself, one of them would be to have every stray hair removed forever without any pain, just so I can be fucking done with it already! However, I feel good about myself. Well sometimes, it's hard for me to get rid of that old critic that reminds me of the time where I didn't feel so good about myself, but I feel like I can hold my own. Interestingly, my plastic surgeon told me that I was the ideal candidate because I didn't want an unrealistic image, I just wanted get rid of a part of my body that had been warped due to pregnancy. I guess if I were truly "I am woman, hear me roar", I would have worn that battled and bruised part of my body with pride, but I guess I need to not feel so at odds with something so changed in order to feel a bit more normal about myself.
So obviously my sexiness is very much tied to my appearance, which I wonder how healthy that can be. I mean, I know I can flirt up a good storm, I'm funny and playful. I'm pretty smart and what I'm most proud of, is that I'm a survivor of shitty situations in life and that has given me a confidence and swagger. That helps to give me self worth, but it doesn't really make me feel sexy, unless that self worth is what is to be considered sexy, which I guess in the end, can count for a whole lot of it. I think also, sexiness tied to appearance isn't necessarily awful. I mean, it's a pretty demanding thing if your ideal of sexy is unrealistic, like what Hollywood projects, but if you're a size 14, 16, 18 and you are rocking it, maybe that is a good thing because you're brave and open enough to see your beauty outside of the norm.
So I dunno, sexiness is attitude deep inside and not tied to how you look, or its something based on how you look and your desirability, or it's a little bit of both. Like just about everything in life, it's probably sitting somewhere close to the middle. I do believe that confidence is your sexiest asset, I'm just not sure where or what that confidence is based on is appropriate. I guess one of life's riddles for me, obviously enough to keep me blogging at 12:30 at night, but enough said on the topic, now it's time for me to get my beauty rest. ;)
I don't consider myself as some epic sexy icon, in fact for the longest time, I didn't feel attractive at all. Before that, I KNEW that I had it going on. I was a size 12, young, full of piss and vinegar and rocking the hourglass figure, mind you, my hair wasn't nearly as fabulous! As time went on, I gained weight, got up to a 22 at my highest, but maintained a regular 18. Logically I knew I wasn't ugly, but I didn't feel it. Needless to say my self esteem in that regard dropped to an all time low at the time of my separation. It was at that point I made a decision that no matter how shitty I felt, I was going to look well put together. Fake it until I make it, that was my idea. In a completely unrelated move to my looks, but affected it wildly, I pretty much stopped eating well. That was pure stress, but needless to say, it took me down from a size 20, to a 14, which is pretty much ideal on my body, or at least my ideal.
Anyhow, every once in a while, someone would comment that despite how awful my circumstances were, I looked fabulous and that gave me a little boost. Now while I shouldn't tie my happiness to how others view how awesome I look, I needed that superficial bump. Slowly, as time went on and I continued to fake it until I make it, I noticed here and there that I was being noticed. Again, superficial, but much needed at the time. What slowly started to happen though, was that every now and again, I'd catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and be taken away by that pretty person looking back. It was a split second before the Critical Joy jumped up from her coffee break to take that moment away, but it was something I hadn't experienced in the past several years.
My therapist mentioned that it was important as a sexual being to have your loving partner desire you, not that I had a partner, but I think to a degree, knowing that I could turn a head now and then, it somewhat woke up that Joy who remembered that I was sexual and desirable, at least to a few people. However I realized that I was still tying my confidence to how others see me. It would give me a boost, but it was short lived and very surface like. When I noticed that a certain fella was making eyes at me, then something really jumped, because here was someone that I was interested in, who I could see found me easy on the eye. Some months later, the affection is based on so much more than my looks, but it's once again nice to feel desired when I use my eyes or smile to evoke that reaction. That said, more and more, those split second glimpses in the mirror started to grow longer and Critical Joy started to shut her yap. Confident Joy was clearly sitting on her giving her noogies because I started saying "not too shabby girl" to myself.
Then I went and did something radical, I had a tummy tuck. Really, probably the antithesis of sexy truly coming from within, but strangely enough, now I feel it. My body is far from the Hollywood ideal. I'm not 90lbs soaking wet with insanely huge tits. I have fat, cellulite, wrinkles, greys, my arms flap, I'm a solid size 14 and without more surgery, or serious boob deflation, I don't see that changing anytime soon and I spend enough time tweezing that if I ever were granted three wishes for myself, one of them would be to have every stray hair removed forever without any pain, just so I can be fucking done with it already! However, I feel good about myself. Well sometimes, it's hard for me to get rid of that old critic that reminds me of the time where I didn't feel so good about myself, but I feel like I can hold my own. Interestingly, my plastic surgeon told me that I was the ideal candidate because I didn't want an unrealistic image, I just wanted get rid of a part of my body that had been warped due to pregnancy. I guess if I were truly "I am woman, hear me roar", I would have worn that battled and bruised part of my body with pride, but I guess I need to not feel so at odds with something so changed in order to feel a bit more normal about myself.
So obviously my sexiness is very much tied to my appearance, which I wonder how healthy that can be. I mean, I know I can flirt up a good storm, I'm funny and playful. I'm pretty smart and what I'm most proud of, is that I'm a survivor of shitty situations in life and that has given me a confidence and swagger. That helps to give me self worth, but it doesn't really make me feel sexy, unless that self worth is what is to be considered sexy, which I guess in the end, can count for a whole lot of it. I think also, sexiness tied to appearance isn't necessarily awful. I mean, it's a pretty demanding thing if your ideal of sexy is unrealistic, like what Hollywood projects, but if you're a size 14, 16, 18 and you are rocking it, maybe that is a good thing because you're brave and open enough to see your beauty outside of the norm.
So I dunno, sexiness is attitude deep inside and not tied to how you look, or its something based on how you look and your desirability, or it's a little bit of both. Like just about everything in life, it's probably sitting somewhere close to the middle. I do believe that confidence is your sexiest asset, I'm just not sure where or what that confidence is based on is appropriate. I guess one of life's riddles for me, obviously enough to keep me blogging at 12:30 at night, but enough said on the topic, now it's time for me to get my beauty rest. ;)
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