Tag Archives: awkward

When I’m 57…

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My baby boy will eighteen.  My oldest will be going on thirty-three.

My oldest randomly text-ed me this unnerving question the other day, as she lay poolside in warm and sunny Florida on Spring Break…while I was here on  the home front, caring for the little ones and managing the house.

“Have you ever thought how old your gonna be when Chance JUST graduates high school?? Not even college yet!”198684_4766656609542_1856966002_n

I gasped when I first read it…

What on Earth was my beautiful, eighteen year old daughter thinking by asking me this question???

I shared the question on Facebook, only because it was so insane at that moment, I needed some motherly backup…reassuring me that yes indeed my kid was rude and inconsiderate.

How are we to send her off to college in a few months and let her live in the city on her own, when she doesn’t even know one of the basic skills of life...think before you speak…or text.

Later that night, I laughed about it.

Not because I thought it was funny, but because I overreacted.

My daughter was starting to ponder life…the big bad world that lies before her. She was genuinely concerned at how old I may be when my youngest is her current age…maybe because she thought I may be crippled or too fragile by then to help him through his senior prom and graduation.

And help pack up his things and ship him off to college fifteen years from now…

Or maybe even whether I may be alive…maybe she hasn’t yet grasped different stages in life and aging, not realizing that 57 is still pretty young in our world.

When she returns from her mini Spring Break in Florida with her Grandparents, I may have to pull her aside and ask her what provoked such a thought.

Until then, I will take this Forty-something old body that is a little sore at the moment, but healing and getting healthier everyday (all due to my new way of eating and lifestyle so I live to be a hundred), and continue folding mountains of laundry, sort through the explosion of summer clothes that my teenage girls dug through for their last-minute getaway, and wait for my husband to come home from yet another trip to give me a “mommy time-out”…

I am told I will miss these crazy days someday, when all the kiddos have moved on to college/jobs/starting their own lives…

I probably will after my 57 year old body locks the front door, takes my bra off through my sleeve, throws it on the ceiling fan, cracks open a chilled bottle of wine and blasts some Duran Duran like the free spirit I once was…

dd1

a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away…

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Flattery.

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Sitting at an intersection the other day, I noticed it.

The heavy stare. The primitive instinct.  The male bonding.

Thankfully I was not on the receiving end of it.  Otherwise my face would be crimson, and I would probably trip and fall as I ran for the nearest tree to hind behind.

A beautiful woman crosses the street.  Two men sitting inside a cafe at the window, stare her down simultaneously. Not sure if one tapped the other to look up, or they both had an instinctive radar for heels and long hair blowing in the wind.

I sat at the intersection staring at the men…wondering why.

Why do they do this? I know I have stared briefly at a good-looking male from time to time, but look away immediately for fear of him catching me glance at him, so I have kept my stares down to a half of a second.

These men seemed to stare for minutes…pondering something…not sure sure I care to know what…but definitely thinking about something.

It must be some strange form of flattery from men.

If they can find minutes to stare someone down like this, it must mean that this woman is something these men only dream about or just plain old lust.

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For some reason,  I cannot get past it feeling invasive or rude. Almost a sort of harassment.

A woman should feel confident and beautiful at all times, not as if she is taking part in creating a scene in guy’s mind of some disturbing fantasy.

I am more of a sincere flattery kind of girl.

A few months ago, my husband’s friend was chatting with us at a restaurant. He then turned to me as we were leaving, and said how he noticed that I had looked very different after losing a lot of weight, and in front of my husband, he told me how he thought I looked great. 

That takes guts. That is a gentleman. He dared to be honest in front my husband and to my face. I was speechless.

Yes, I was slightly embarrassed at someone noticing my transformation, but as we talked about it about it later that night, I realized it was just so sweet.

My husband stood proudly next to me.

I stand taller now, realizing that I should be more confident.

If I was that woman the other day crossing the street, and felt the glare on me, I would shrivel.

It must truly be a primitive instinct for some men…or maybe even all men. I get it.

But if a man wants to win a woman’s heart or make her smile…or just make her day a little brighter, walk over to her, tap her on the shoulder, and tell her this…

“Excuse Miss. But I just wanted to let you know that you look beautiful. That your efforts to leave your home and feel confident and pretty today, have not gone unnoticed. Have a wonderful day”…I truly believe she will be taken aback at first, but then make her smile for the rest of the day as she recalls that moment…and I am pretty sure, the man will too.

FAT.

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FAT.

Oh yeah…that is a bad word.

It is mean.

It ticks people off. It brings out the worst in people.

Well, when you are pointing out someone’s struggle with weight, that is…

It is just plain rude or annoying.

Been there, done that.

I recently had a person go so far as to ask me if I was pregnant again…

Yep they said that.

Which is a moment when you feel more sorry for the person who just made the comment than feeling sorry for your overweight self. That awkward moment…

Silence… and then the realization of what just occurred.  Ouch.

Yes it hurt.

I cried.

I wallowed in countless cookies and treats…why deprive myself of my favorite goodies? Losing two pounds after months of walking and changing my diet ( I was PROUD of those two shed pounds) , and someone STILL thinks I look pregnant?

My response was…”Nope…no baby. Just FAT“…

Heck…why not?  Why can’t I say that to her?

If she was bold enough to say it, I was bold enough, and FAT enough apparently,  to fight back.

I still say hi and smile to my charming aquaintance, but will never forget that moment.

It was a definite motivator.

Funny though that the person has yet to notice the thirty pounds of FAT that have left my body forever.

That is ok…

I did.

I finally caved, and bought some new jeans.

Twice! ( That deserves an exclamation point!) I am down two sizes…and just about ready for another downsizing.

Which was weird for me after years of struggling with only two or five pounds at the most.

But AWESOME all at the same time!

I hesitated for a few months actually to buy anything. I think I was playing mind games with myself…the FAT always returns…do NOT purchase or donate anything just yet.

Maybe it isn’t as noticable in jeans that fit me properly now. I truly thought it was more noticable when it looked like I could fit two of me in my jeans as I constantly needed to hike them up even with a belt.

My momma pouch/jelly roll always held the waistline or belt in place…but not anymore. Not too much fat lives in that area now.

I may still be a little bigger than the average woman, but feeling good inside and out…jumping and running to chase my kids is FUN now…not embarassing.

This is MY small victory against FAT…thirty pounds was something I only saw one other time in my battle against weight loss and getting healthy.

 

THIRTY POUNDS…that is equivalent to ten meatloafs for my family…

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 That’s alot of meatloaf.

I pray that no one takes offense to my story. I write this knowing dozens of women I adore, love, and respect are fighting the good fight with FAT. And I am certain there are thousands more. Maybe it would motivate one…maybe none.

But that is ok.

I am proud of me…and FAT is not my friend anymore.