Books I’m reading:  The Wright Brothers by David McCullough / Life at the Dakota by Stephen Birmingham / Forever by Pete Hamill / Absolute Power: How the Pope Became the Most Influential Man in the World by Paul Collins

Mood:  Peaceful

Weight:  165

I got dressed for work this morning, feeling a little extra sassy.  There was a bit more va-va-voom in the reflection than normal.  I don’t know why but there was so I’ll ride that wave for as long as I have balance to do so.

I put on my favorite dress that hasn’t fit me for about two years and shimmied my way across my bedroom to finish my beauty preparation.  Today, I actually took an active interest in putting on something other than sunblock.  I’m wearing perfume AND makeup.  Oh yeah.  I’m hot.

In the full length mirror I stood full on and gave the rare nod of approval …and then….

No really, I’m asking for a friend here.  WTF is that!!!!???!#@$#@%%????

When I get a pedicure and I’m sitting in the funky massage chair…that good old good old stuff  wobbles back and forth like a jello jiggler while I sit and laugh my fool head off.

I have excellent self esteem.  I do what my body tells me to do.  Some days that’s running and eating quinoa and some days that’s eating an entire bag of Cheetos with zero remorse while I rub my poochy belly with my orange stained fingers and tell it things like, “You is good, you is beautiful, you housed a baby and stretched that tummy like a circus tent and went through 24 hours of labor to bring that baby into the world.  You created life.  You is important.”  Yes, The Help is one of my favorite books ever.  How did you guess?  But the message is important.

My body is good.  My body is wise, when I’m smart enough to listen to it.  It tells me when to sleep, when to eat, when I need a steak and when I need to get up and move.  It tells me when I’m doing something wrong in the form of pain.  It tells me when I’m doing something right in the form of that buzzing, heightened sense of wellness that comes from eating right and moving enough and adopting peace instead of stress.  I believe in feeding all the things that matter; mind, body and spirit.

Losing this little pooch probably won’t happen.  It’s been there since I gave birth 27 years ago in one variation or another.   Posture does count a bit for it as I get older, I find myself having to readjust my shoulders more often and remember to sit (especially) and stand with my shoulders back.   I wonder, if at the age of 47, I’m starting to go through some form of  spinal degeneration or if I’m just lazy AF and need to pay more attention, or if the weight of my Dad’s illness has manifested into my spine caving which then contributes to an exaggerated pooch. Or does it stem from smartphone addiction which constantly has my head tilted down reviewing news, texts, emails, social media, notifications to move, hydrate, et al.

I have to, in the immortal words of Kathryn Hahn in Bad Moms….

Get my *its up

its up images

It’s the only way

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I write about life as I know it.

One Comment on “Like Nailing Jello to a Tree

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