The Earth Goes 'Round the Sun

I remember when Julia was in Montessori pre-K and on their birthday's the parents would come to class, all the kids in their 'room' would sit in a circle and they would place this globe in the center.  Then the birthday person would walk around it as they sang "The Earth goes round the sun, the earth goes round the sun, high ho dedario, and then Julia was ONE". They would continue this until they got to the actual age of the person walking in the circle.   I loved that!  Then it dawned on me how many circles it would take me and I would either throw up or dizzy myself right into the globe.  "And then Mommy was gone"... Makes me laugh just imagining that. 

Birthday's have always been a big deal in my house.  I LOVE birthdays! The cake with fresh flowers (yes, the girls actually asked me if they were real roses and gerbera daisies on Emma's cheesecake), picking up the gift, now the goody bags are getting goofier (pop rock candy, the gooey spray in a can, mardi gras masks and glow bracelets for the skating rink) and the sleep overs.  I never believed in the 'rent the damn pony' parties like my children were invited to. Never quite got into the 'rent a Cinderella carriage at the club' either.  It's the one day I DO let my children eat whatever they want.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner.  If I had eaten what Emma ate (sausage biscuit for breakfast, chicken fingers and mac & cheese for lunch with a tiaramisu dessert, pizza for dinner with her cheesecake) I would have instantly gained 50 pounds and I think arteries would have clogged immediately therefore sending me straight into the cheesecake.  Alas, I am not 11 though.  


Which brings me to my body.  I am not 11.  I am not 22.  I am not even 33.  I am 42.  I remember my Grandmother telling me when I was about 13 that inside she felt the exact same as I did, it was the outside that was having trouble keeping up.  Brilliant woman! Sweet Gramma.  She was my step-mother's Mom.  She lived with us in the house in Lexington, something so few people get to enjoy now.  I want to be her when I grow up. I watched Spanglish last night and realized that the Grandmother part, reminded me so much of her.  Smiling, laughing, always something funny and good to say.  She would pat your hand and DING it's 5:00 o'clock.  It's Scotch time. She died peacefully in her sleep at 85. 


OK back to the body thing.  I'm walking but not 'hoofing it'.  My friend Lisa said it best yesterday "I am the worst. If I can't find the ipod or I don't have any water or if it looks like it might rain, I won't go to the gym".  Well, I don't go to the gym. I walk in the hood here. Which, I do love.  But I realized that although I might be satisfied with what's going on everywhere else in my life, my body is not one of those areas. 


I'm not sagging like a raisin or anything. And I did get excited & was SO complimented when they carded me at Harris Teeter,  until I realized it was THE LAW.  Not a good moment.  But a needed one.  I DO feel the same on the inside that I did when I was 20, but my body is trying to rebel against me a little bit right now and I'm getting pretty pissed about it.  Can't sleep one minute, so exhausted the next I can't keep my eyes open. Not really hungry very much, but it appears if I went 1 calorie over 20 per day, I would be the size of a barn.  Now, who's gene pool did that one come from?!  And no, it's not THE change.  I checked. 

I want to kick box again.  I want to hit that bag HARD!  I want to almost run.  I want I want I want.  I know, the wambulance is coming.  And I read my MORE magazine last night; the one for women over 40.  It is funny and  uplifting and cheeky but seriously the women are airbrushed. So what's the point of that?  Be happy with your airbrushed self.  The girls' pictures even come with that 'option' now.  They can give them whiter teeth and smooth out acne.  Are you serious?!  
Apparently they are.  

My eldest has been having body issues for the past year.  She is the shortest in her class but gorgeous! And she hates that she has curves.  She's not the stick straight skinny jeans type, unlike most of her friends.  There are obese kids out there, but they don't seem to congregate around my children.  So, arguments ensue about what looks best on her body in the dressing room nearly every time for a few months there.  And I remember being there!  I remember what it was like to be the non stick child. I got boobs before ANY body in my class did.  I don't want to go too far down that path, but let's just say I had breast reduction surgery 16 years ago because of the trauma that put me through.  No kidding.  


So, I get it.  I tell my daughter that every time she tries to say "You don't understand" because I DO!  The names people called me in 7th grade were horrific.  Which, in turn, gave me a very very sharp tongue.  Took me a long time to drop that one.  It still pops out every once in a while, but only when it's absolutely necessary.  Promise. Good not evil uses.  


While I was sleeping Julia crawled into bed and said "Mommy you really are beautiful. I don't know why you worry about your weight. You're not fat."  I opened my eyes and said "Back at 'cha kiddo".  She smiled and said "I'll try" and I said "I will too".  


I don't want to give my children body issues.  I've tried very hard not to even step into that realm.  But what message am I sending them when I'm not happy with my body?  What am I saying to them?  They are gorgeous! No kidding, gorgeous.  Stop in your tracks gorgeous. Both as babies and now young ladies.  
I don't want them to get hung up on boobs, butts and botox.  I don't do Botox, by the way.  Have had no plastic anything inserted, injected or slathered on me.  


I have figured out one huge reason why I am a bit more paranoid than usual.  It's my friends.  They are all very thin, beautiful women. And several are younger than I am.  Most of them don't have children and/or are divorced.  But the ones that are married with children are thin too. I mean skinny thin.  I don't think ONE of my close, close friends is larger than a size 6.  That's half the average size woman. HAH.  Kidding.  


So my intention with this is to snap out of it! Jeeezusah.  I'm tired of even thinking about it.  I had a dream that I 'found' a check for $20,000 and sat there weighing whether I should use it for plastic surgery or pay off part of the house. Didn't come to any conclusions before I woke up.  


What does that say about me?  No wait. Don't answer that.  

Every day I need to work on getting the image of a skinny, tiny, wee bity person out of my head.  And hopefully that will help my daughter as well.  


This too shall pass.  This too shall pass.