Ok welcome to another edition of Wordy Whiny (and Weighty) Wednesday.

 

You may or may not remember this (depending on 1. how good your memory is and 2. if you give a damn at all) post about weight and fitness and blah blah blah (well you know not blah blah blah but close). So I’ve been doing those things I talked about. I’ve been drinking water and making sure I’m eating good (and ok I made cookies too, cause BALANCE PEOPLE, BALANCE) and I’ve been walking and cursing at doing Jillian when I can (or I should say when I prioritize it and frankly my knee is killing me soooo there’s that excuse) and the scale? Well it went up. OK that’s fine. Cause I ate pie so I asked for it. The first day of Jillian I almost DIED but by the fifth day I only felt a little like I was going to have a stroke. So that’s an improvement. BUT I’ve also been resting and crafting a little and tapping into my creative side. Oh and also I was taking care of supersickvomitingandpooping and now crabbywhinyteething baby but thankfully at least some of that has passed now. And I’ve been gardening and getting that going. Oh AND chasing the dog out of the garden so that’s exercise right? I’ve also been trying to tackle some small projects (well you know small in the grand scheme of things but not that small really) and starting new projects and checking off the list.

 

Today I decided to tackle my dresser.

 

Dun dun dun.

 

See yesterday I went to lunch with my lovely friend Staci and her super dee duper daughter Peyton and before I went I said to myself, “SELF, maybe you want to wear something besides yoga pants. Just sayin. You look like a hobo.” So I went to my dresser and found I could scarcely open it for the clothes that were SHOVED WILLY NILLY neatly folded inside. So I said to myself, after having NO success whatsoever, “Self. Add this to the list. Cause homie… this is ugly.”

 

So today at 6:15 am I dumped that whole damn thing out.

 

AND OHMYDEARLORD WHERETHEHELL DIDIGET ALLTHESECLOTHES?

It’s ugly friends and that’s just the dresser.

See I used to be skinny. Sorry to keep bringing that up but you know, it’s a valid point in the grand scheme of things since it was only like 2 years ago. (Come to think of it I may be reaching the end of the phase where I can still consider that recent. Well crap.)

Anyway.

When I was skinny (or more aptly when I was depressed) I bought a lot of clothes. I’m not particularly proud of this behavior but there it is. Some of them were, shall we say, rather pricey. OK SO WHAT if I have five pairs of Lucky Brand Jeans in size 6 and 8? They were different STYLES. :-/

 
Sigh. FIVE pair of pants I cannot, and most likely will not ever, wear. I thought I might try to sell these $100 per pair jeans on eBay but it turns out there isn’t much market for jeans that were $100 three years ago. So shit. And what did I find to wear…. Zip. Nada. Nil. Zero.

And where does this leave me you ask?

Well with an empty drawer and a frustrated brain. Of course.

Frustrated because A. I spent $100 on jeans I can’t wear (5 pair …so $500 really. Oh I feel sick.) B. And self loathing because I distinctly remember saying to myself when I lost all that weight “I’ll NEVEREVEREVEREVEREVER in a million zillion years weigh that much again.” Sigh. C. A little more self loathing because HELLO the way I got back to not fitting in my pants was by creating HUMAN LIFE. A sweet little bundle of precious joy who I absolutely cannot imagine my life without, so why am I beating myself up? (even if I could have skipped the cookies) D. And yet even more self loathing because I feel like I falsely advertised a 125 pound woman to my husband when what he ended up with was a 177 pound woman. (and yeah that’s really what I weigh so go ahead and process that number. I’m not trying to lie about it.) E. And even more self loathing for all the self loathing.

And since I’m not going to lie I’ll tell you this… when I finished cleaning out the dresser, and I had set aside the appropriate piles (one to donate, one to turn into wipes for the baby’s butt,  one for repurposing, one to save {that’s where the jeans I’ll never wear are just because I can’t sell them and dangit if I’m giving away $100 jeans}, one to give to my 15 year old {excuse me while I throw up} and one to give to Staci’s daughter) I sat down and had a good ol fashioned PMS induced tear fest. Partly for the aforementioned reasons and partly just cause I needed the emotional cleansing.

Then I talked to the Man and bent his ear for a half hour (hour?) and strangely felt even worse after that because in all love and kindness he essentially told me to get over my narcissistic self.

 

And he’s right.

 

And he said, “If you told me that you’re happy the way you are and this is the way you’re going to be for the rest of your life, I’d be perfectly happy with that because what I WANT IS FOR YOU TO BE HAPPY.”

 

And dammit he means it. And also… he’s right.

Why is it so hard for us to love ourselves? When life is beautiful and good. When we have healthy families and husbands we love. When we can walk and run and keep up with our kids. When we have healthy food and shelter. When we have essentially NOTHING to complain about. At. All.

Why do the size of the jeans in the drawer matter?

 

Does anyone out there want some $100 jeans?

 

 

body image , fitness , MEEEEEE , weight loss , wordy whiny wednesday

This is an ode to Flashback Friday, which I do not usually participate in (because by Friday I’ve usually forgotten what day of the week it is entirely). I bring to you waaaaaaaay back Thursday.

I mean WAY back.

It’s meeeeeee.

Aged 6 months. And presumably not yet crawling. And nekkid.

And bathing beauty. What a glorious mustard colored bathtub we had. Did I OWN clothes?

Oh LOOK I did own clothes. Here’s me, 8 months, on my dad’s Harley. That’s how I roll yo.

And me and muh maw on the Harley. My mom was a hot-tay.  And a fashionista. Seriously. Look at those pants.

Also that bike is custom and my dad painted all that flame-y business. By hand y’all.

Here they are. In all their hairblowinginthewind glory. My parents are FAM-OUS.

Chopper magazine 1973:

(not really)

Happy Thursday y’all.

MEEEEEE , way back thursday

OK so I can’t wait until tomorrow. I just can’t. If you read earlier today you read that I intended to make myself a sewing corner. And by corner I mean CORNER. The space I’m talking about it literally 40 inches square. 40 inches.  Despite having a fair sized house we seem to never have enough room which is why the Man works from the couch or kitchen table when he works from home and why I have, until today, had no place to put a sewing machine.

 

Until today.

Today I set out to create a space for myself. I’ve been dreaming about it since we finished the living room and put the Man’s turntable up and got some great shelving (where I have things like yarn and books).

I started with this:

It may look like I staged that but I swear to you as I live and breathe that is EXACTLY what it looked like. Because for some reason this is the corner the family forgot existed. The corner where there was once a birdcage and there was, as of this morning anyway, a 6 pack of snapple, a puzzle and a painting that one of the kids did.

I brought to the space things from around the house. The table that was next to our bed (and wasn’t meant to be a nightstand but was at one point, in 1940, a nice makeup table). I brought a chair from the kitchen. I made a bulletin board (tutorial tomorrow) from a new frame and some old grody corkboard that the Man had saved in the garage. (He’s great at keeping things forever. I really love it even though I harass him about it.) I added a bunch of blue Ball jars left over from our wedding and a few McCoy vases and flower pots I already had (I have an embarrassing number of these). And a jar of buttons. Oh and an old painting I had. And here’s what happened:

A beautiful functional corner.

I BOUGHT: 1 white 16 x 20 frame and 1/2 yard of fabric.

That’s it.

So this cost me about $25 (It was an expensive-ish frame even 40% off but I had to have white. Had to.). Because I had to go to Michaels and I HAD to buy other sewing implements (seam ripper etc) which brought the total to just under $60 of stuff I probably wouldn’t have bought today. Also I ended up at Old Navy and bought myself clothes. This has no bearing on the corner redo other than to say I was feeling sassy and wanted some nice (fitting) things to wear. New clothes make a lady feel pretty. Even if they are in a size she doesn’t like.

And a space to call her own, even if it is 40 inches in the corner of the dining room, makes any woman feel downright fantastic.

I highly recommend it.

crafts , MEEEEEE , sewing