Confessions on Keeping Up

Once upon a time I had a job that expected me to look creatively professional and afforded me the time and income in which to do so. I’m a pretty simple girl so my efforts mostly involved getting a fabulously expensive haircut every 12 weeks and coordinating a lovely (albeit mostly black) wardrobe. I may not have been impeccably made-up and properly accessorized, but I felt pretty good about myself.

Enter 50 pounds of pregnancy that left me a beautiful baby girl, along with breasts and hips and 10 (on a good day) pounds that refuse to quit me. For four years now I’ve been waiting (im)patiently for my body to return to the days when size truly was not an issue because I could wear tops without brassieres and pull on pants without fear of the dreaded sausage thigh. Sometimes I look at the well-tailored relics of my old wardrobe and shed a little tear reminiscing about the days when we were so good together...*sigh. These days my wardrobe is mostly the kinda-fits cheap stuff bought on the overly optimistic idea that it will only be a few months until I’m back, baby!

I know it all sounds superficial, but me taking care of my appearance goes a long way in me taking care of my psyche. It’s been too easy these past years to slip on the old sweatpants and tell myself maybe *next* week I’ll bother to care. I’ve been excusing myself with being busy and broke and appearances don't matter… only I’ve also been feeling down and dumpy and downright shlumpy.

So what finally moved me? I know you’re going to scream at this confession (as I still do when I think about it), but it was…Kim Kardashian (don’t front like you don’t know who that is!).  I saw her on QVC as I was channel surfing and wowza, is she a lovely and curvaceous woman who obviously embraces her shape with aplomb. And I said to myself, “If Kim K can look that good, so can stumpy ole me.” And I promptly spent the uber-generous birthday monies from my in-laws on some beautiful stuff just for me and my thighs (no, I did not purchase whatever Kim K was shilling on QVC).

I am still trying to lose the extra pounds but the pressure's off.  I think the days of boy’s size medium are never coming back and, you know what, I’m finally okay with that. The thing I struggle with the most as a mom is to make sure the inadequacies I feel about my body do not translate to my daughter. So far Z has no problems looking in the mirror and saying “I look beautiful today,” and sometimes she tells me I look beautiful, too. Maybe it’s time I start to believe her, eh?