First off - I want to thank everyone for the sweet comments on my sons graduation. It was so cool to log in and see them, to see that you are all still out there & that you took a moment to pop by and say congrats. Man, I miss reading blogs. To some this may seem totally silly, but I am sure you will understand what I mean when I say I find inspiration in blog reading. I read all of you because there is something about you I enjoy, admire, giggle over. You are creative, funny, positive, and easy to relate to. When you are used to giving yourself a little time everyday to indulge in stalking others pages and then suddenly life throws you into a tail wind and you can't do that, you feel like you are missing out on something.
Yesterday was my 37th birthday. It went by quietly because we've had a lot of hoopla going on with graduation and besides, it's the middle of the week, my husband works nights, and the older boys have Youth Group stuff - we will catch up this weekend. Father's Day and my birthday day usually land close together and sometimes even on the same day, so we've gotten into the tradition of combining the celebration.
Other than when I turned 30 (and had a temporary bout of hysteria in which I expected to shrivel up and wilt at the stroke of midnight on June 17th) I have never been bothered about the number of years I have been on the this planet. 37 isn't one of the "milestone" birthdays like 30, 35, 40, 50 - and yet when I stopped to look back over my should at the better part of this decade, I got really sad and emotional.
Where have I gone?
What the heck happened to my body?
When did I stop paying attention to me?
My husband will say I have had 4 babies and that nobody walks away with anything as intact as it was before. I give him brownie points for saying it, but zero credence to the words. All moms with toddlers know that its hard to take care of your own self when you've got a kid (or kids) to chase, and I get that, but that's not what I am talking about here. Sure, I had 4 babies - but the first 3 were fairly spread out enough that I was back into some semblence of my previous shape, just a little err, SOFTER, than before, lol. Ahh Motherhood!
Max came within a year of losing Kaitlyn, and that is probably the beginning of the slump.
But honestly, it seems like in the last 2 years alone is when I really packed it on.
I currently outweigh any of my pregnancy weights. And when I say pregnancy weight, I am referring to FULL TERM weight at 9 months & ready to pop. There hasn't been a baby in my body in 9 years!!!
I don't want to be nor expect to be a skinny minny. That's not me. I'm curvy and I accepted, even welcomed, that fact years ago. What bugs me even more than my bloated face and enlarged tummy is the look I can see in my eyes in pictures. The expression of pure sadness. Or constipation! I will show you what I mean with pictures...
This picture was taken 2 years ago - on my 35th birthday as we were headed out to dinner with family. Ok, so mostly I am hiding behind the hunky hubs, but you will see what I mean when you scroll down to the current picture...(Also, please ignore the spousal abuse taking place in the photo - clearly I wasn't choking him THAT hard.)
And this was taken just 5 days ago on June 13th...do you see the difference I am talking about? I knew I would cry my makeup off (and I did) so I didn't put much on, didn't want to look like a streaky mess - but it got even worse when I stepped outside and Mother Nature assaulted my hair with humidity.
Do you see the difference I am talking about?
I promise I am not whining here and being a big ol' poor me. I really and truly am legitimately a wreck over what I am feeling, and as a result, looking.
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