Trying to Love Myself.

I was recently so lucky to spend an evening out with the infamous Team Vag! Three of my friends with whom I spent almost the entire time I was single- celebrating being a woman- an independent woman- okay so we mostly drank mojitos, went shopping and shared secrets- but they are memories I will never forget and always hold tight too...

On our night out I noticed something. All of us- every single one of us- had not one nice thing to say about ourselves. It is easy for me to tell my friends how beautiful they are- it's true. Physically they're knock outs- with skin, smiles, and curves people would kill for they're amazing.... but each one of them had a myriad of complaints about their bodies.... and I sure wasn't standing there thinking that my body is perfect- in fact- far from it.

We change... we change as people: evolve. It's only natural that with our lifestyle changes or maybe better put, LIFE changes, that our bodies will change too. Part of it is simple science... you grow older and your skin loosens, your metabolism slows down... hey man- you can't go out partying every night and get up for work the next day simply by shaking it off with a greasy breakfast?? Not. Fair. The other part is I think- for a second, being comfortable with yourself as a woman: I can remember us taking a thousand photos a night- and feeling good about what we saw in those photos.. confident in ourselves- in love with our smiles or our boobs or whatever... the other night there lacked that relaxed feeling about our appearance- and maybe it is back to simple science- as we age we feel the need to compete with younger women- who to us, appear more fresh and beautiful and tight/slim.... Anyway, with the comfort we feel- for that second- we can relax- also with the aid of finding a mate who loves you for who you are as a person rather than your cup size comes the ability to love yourself- don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say "someone has to love you before you can relax and love yourself and be comfortable with who you are" but let's face it- it helps to know that someone loves you and plans to spend their live with you... that love helps let you put your guard down...

I don't really know what I'm getting at. Personally my body has changed so much after having my kids- and every single day I struggle with those changes. I don't give a shit how many people tell me I grew, nourished and birthed two beautiful children- I live with them- I KNOW that... but I miss my tits. I miss my flat stomach- I miss not having stretch marks over my entire midsection. I am, slimer and more fit now than I've been since high school-- but you know where that comes from- it comes from a complete lack of confidence in my appearance and a hatred for the physical appearance of my body. It did not start from a healthy place. Insecurity is a real bitch.

Now- with running- starting that Dance Bootcamp class- and most recently- and I think most importantly, starting to work out with a trainer- and doing what I've learned in the gym at home- I have decided that I want my body to be strong- I want my body to match my spirit... to match my determination to tell life to "fuck off and I'll deal with it" Sure, sometimes I'm a total wuss and I cry and whine about my situation-- but I don't want to cry and whine about my body anymore. I want to love it. I want to love what it's been through and I want to love where it's going. I want to love it through the transformation I'm putting it through- and I want to love it for a long time. I want to be healthy.

I'm not there yet- I don't think I'm even close. It's SO easy to pick apart every little thing about yourself.. and I don't want it to be that easy for me. I know I'll never be happy with everything about myself- and I think that's sick- thanks society for making me aware I now have wrinkles and my stretch marks are unacceptable....

These photos I had taken by Anita Alberto found here http://www.facebook.com/anitaphotography and here http://www.anitaginaphotography.com/ I think have changed my life. I look at these photos and sure- I can still tell you what I don't like.. but more importantly I can tell you what I love. I love my eyes, my skin, my waist:hip ratio. I can tell you I've been working hard and I love the changes my body is going through. I can tell you I appreciate myself for not being shy- and standing around in my underwear- I can tell you I think I look beautiful.

Maybe it is vain. I don't think the world has ever been a place where appearances don't come into play at some point... I want to get to a point where I'm not competing with everyone else- but rather doing something just for myself... I'm getting closer. Closer to not caring what the world thinks- but it's hard. It's so hard.

I think every person needs a photo they love of themselves. Something they can look at on a shitty day and think, "wow: I'm amazing" During this photo shoot I was so shy at first... half a bottle of pink champagne and one of my best friends with me- I was so timid... but Anita made me feel beautiful- strong- confident. I think this is one of the most empowering things I've ever done.. and I want to do it again...

The other night it got to a point where I made the girls toast: toast to loving themselves for who they are- and a toast to not being nasty to themselves anymore. We all failed- but we tried... and now one of us simply has to remind the others when they say something bad: "remember the toast". I want my friends to do this. All of my friends. I want you to have something that makes you feel beautiful.. I don't care if it's vain, I really don't. I think it's important... we all know we're good humans- very few of us recognize that we're beautiful humans.

Thank you Anita.

Falling Down

You know when you wake up and think, "This is it. This is the day I'm going to lose my shit 'Falling Down'" style and most likely end up in jail... you know those days?? What? you don't?? Oh.. you must not be a mother.

I know, another post about motherhood- but it's not... really.

I've recently scored a run of shifts that take me to work Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday from 4pm-12am- awesomesauce! I've had the weekends off for a little over a month and it's been so sweet! I've seen people, seen the outside world, drank beer!

By Wednesday night I'm so done... when you think that I get home from work at 12:30am at the earliest and Otis wakes at 6:30am.. and it takes me around an hour to "wind down" I'm not sleeping much- this is where the "Falling Down" feeling comes in. Usually I'm fueled by coffee and the cuteness of my children- but some mornings their insane behaviour is too much for me to remember that they're actually cute and I really do love them... remember 4-5 hours of sleep- never in a row- as I have to get up with someone for something during those few hours (scary bad guys, lost my binky, just feel like playing) isn't the best mix with one of them playing in the toilet while the other drops berries and toast all over the floor- oh- and finding a giant cat poop during this madness also doesn't help....

Thursday is a whole new day- even though I've had the same amount of sleep I don't have to rush around making breakfast, lunch and dinner all before 2pm. I can take my time- it's luxurious!

By Thursday night at 5:30pm when Jay walks in the door- I'm ready for a break. The luxury of taking my time often translates to "it's taken forever to do anything- with "help" from the kids- and I haven't gotten much accomplished" and I feel like a dog chasing its tail... So I usually jet out for something- the last couple of weeks it's been to the gym to meet with my friend and our gym guy- or for a run-- sometimes I "need" something from the store...

All of this panic and claustrophobia makes me feel like a bad parent. Like maybe I should have waited to have kids until I could be settled, and sit still for five minutes....

Then I think back and realize- I've never been able to sit still. Sure I could lie in bed hungover and eat chips while watching terrible reality shows-- but I'd never stay there. True that I'd stay there longer than the five minutes I get here to be be hungover in bed (I'm not hungover all the time so shush!) but I still wouldn't ever just lie around all day. My mom recently suggested Jay and I go to a hotel for a night- and to be honest, just the thought of that gave me anxiety- weird I know- not being alone with my husband of course, that sounds amazeballs... but the morning... sleeping past 7am- not having anything "to do"... at times that sounds great- but when she suggested it I kind of panicked thinking, "I have so few days off- never a day off to myself- what the hell would I do? I don't want to waste it sleeping??!" I guess it's contradictory- all of my feelings are these days- and I think that's what makes me wonder if I should have waited to have kids- my feelings are so mixed-- not about having the kids now- of course I wouldn't trade them for the world-- I mean, if you're on facebook you've seen the 600 pictures I post of them- they're cute! But I guess what I'm trying to say is, there are more things in a day that I want to do then just be "a mother"

Everything I do- I'm a "mother" doing those things... like at my Dance Bootcamp so many people have said to me, "I can't believe you're a Mom" or when I play baseball I'm a "mother" who plays ball- or when I go shopping I definitely feel like a "mother"-- mostly because nowadays I can't be bothered to try clothes on I'd rather just look for cute stuff for the kids- but also because I like so many clothes but wonder could my "mother" self wear this super sparkly shirt? I don't resent being a Mom while I do all these things- I think it makes me feel stronger- like I'm a "mother" who MAKES time to exercise, and socialize and be alone- but when I hear that my husband has told my Mom that "he couldn't pay me to stay home with him and the kids" I get so sad-- and wonder "is that true?" and of course it's not true- but there are so few hours in a day and I spend all 24 of them being a Mom- that I need to spend a few of them, a few times a week being a "Mom who does other things".

Does any of this make sense? Probably not- my writing has been interrupted numerous times while I helped Abby make cards- and when I popped back on to write more as I thought Otis was helping her-- I had to pop back off after learning he had pushed a chair to the counter to eat an entire spice jar full of cinnamon-- diaper changes and snuggas- I'm currently getting my hair done by a little lady by the name of Sleeping Beauty whose cell phone is apparently ringing-- Odey is blow drying his hair with a TinkerBell blow dryer and I am hoping when I'm done writing here I'll go into the kitchen and it will be clean....

I guess my point is-- I am a "Mom" which I love. I love the adventure of every day being the same but different- as in they do and say new things every day and it's hilarious and pride inducing- the same as in we have our routine--I am a Mom who loves to cuddle and snugga and teach and also learn from my kids... but I'm also a "Mother" who chooses do to other things- for her non-Mother- and also my Mother self... because at times I feel like I'm being really selfish and I feel so guilty-- but I think that without being selfish I would definitely be "Falling Down".

I had my kids when I did because I met a man who was meant to be a father- and who loves me so dearly- and would do anything for me- I had kids when I did because I felt ready- no one can prepare you for the changes- life altering- I realize that no amount of waiting would change who I am... someone who needs a little space, something to own as mine, someone who maybe is a little selfish- time wouldn't change those things- I think I will always wonder, that selfish being inside me will always wonder if I was meant to have kids- if I'm patient enough, loving enough, teaching enough, etc... but the "Mother" in me will reassure those other parts that I'm only human... and doing my best is enough- that sounds "Motherly" doesn't it? See- I was meant to do this- even on those "Falling Down" days- I always get back up- because who needs to sleep anyway?