Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Discouragements Abound!


 /dɪˈskɜrɪdʒmənt, -ˈskʌr-/ Show
[dih-skur-ij-muhnt, -skuhr-] Show IPA
1. an act or instance of discouraging.
2. the state of being discouraged.
3. something that discourages: Poor health and poverty are
grave discouragements.

Well, here's a discouragement right off the bat: I'd better make lunch for the kids and blog later.


First, for the kids' enjoyment, while serving them lunch, I tried to sing my own corrupted, spirited version of Shiny Happy People:

Quiet happy children eating lunch!

and was interrupted by my son: "Can I have more cheese?" I am completely under-appreciated here, people.

Anyhow, when I think of the word "discouragement," I think of it as something that just kind of slumps my shoulders; in other words--a bummer. For instance, as I was sorting laundry a couple of hours ago, it occurred to me how much it sucks to be starting a new batch of laundry without having put away the last clean batch. Also, I went to the beach yesterday with my sister, our kids, and my dad, and today had a monster pile of sand/yucky super green lake plant coated dirty towels, bathing suits and beach blanket. Also, I have two bags full of stuff that hopefully will be put away before the end of July. Sigh.

The biggest discouragement, however, happened to be right there at the beach. It was actually a nice day, and the kids had a fantastic time. Yes, it was another day of work for moi, who, as the mother figure, got to stand there in the knee high water, sucking it in, and saying constantly, "Ella, here," and "Jack, in front of Mummy, please," and "Ella--you're swimming too far away," and "Jack, we all have to stick together," and "Ella. Ella. ELLLLLLLLAAAAA!" You catch my drift. So no, it wasn't the day in general, because that was pretty good, and even with the freaking hour and a half drive to get there, the kids were great. What was getting to me was all the young women walking around in bikinis, and even if they were a bit chubby, they all had great stomachs.

My stomach has been demolished by my two large children. My son was 8lb 12 oz at birth, and my daughter was 9lb 11 oz. And I, pregnant, was a great fortress of a woman. So, after having my son, I was a giant relief map of stretch marks. Then in between my son and my daughter, I had my gall bladder yanked out through my belly button (eeew! That is NOT an EXIT POINT!). Then, with weakened stomach muscles, I became monstrously huge whilst pregnant with my daughter, and the top half of my stomach muscles lovingly separated from the bottom half. So now, even though I feel like I'm fairly fit, unless I suck it in, the top half of my stomach sticks out and makes me look pregnant. I can't think of anything worse for a woman's vanity than looking pregnant when one is NOT pregnant. A couple of doctors have dismissed my lamentations about my sticking out stomach; "you can have fat UNDER the muscle, you know." Yes, yes, I know I'm not thin. My thyroid is fairly useless at this point, as I have whined on about many times.

By the way, is that photo of me pregnant with my daughter not completely disgusting? Mon dieu! Good shock value though! I can proudly say that I'm not that hideous now. Twice, I have had people mistake me for being pregnant. Once was at a wedding over two years ago. I thought I was looking HOT in a funky top, black pants and some killer high heels. The wedding was for a coworker and friend of my husband's, so lots of his work people were there. We were seated at a table with Jon's boss, and when we came in to sit down, she patted my stomach and said; "so are congratulations in order? Is this another little buddy for Jack?" "Nope," I replied, "I just haven't slimmed down from having my daughter yet." She was mortified. GOOD. I went to the bathroom, hung my head in discouragement for a while, and then spent the next solid hour trying not to cry. The second time this happened was at my mother's funeral. A cousin of mine, who is lucky I truly like, asked me if congratulations were in order, as she and her brother had determined I "had a glow" amongst other things. I said; "[cousin], I'm not pregnant. I'm just fat. Please spread the word; 'karen's not pregnant, SHE'S JUST FAT.'" Seriously.

So, as I was saying, there were all those young girls sauntering across the beach. They almost all had fantastic looking stomachs. I envied them. I coveted their teeny tiny pots. I knew that chances are good that they complain about their stomachs, and think that because they have the tiniest of protrusions in their middles, that they are "fat," and that their stomachs are "gross," and that they probably hate their bodies since that is what young women DO. I wanted to pull them aside for a conference. "Listen girls," I would say; "appreciate your bodies now, because you could have a couple of kids and look like THIS!!" At that point I'd show them the whole works, complete with the loose, go-nowhere skin at the bottom. I miss my old, chubby, smooth skinned tummy! WAAAAAAAA! I MISS IT!

And while I'm in my little self pity boat here, I've decided that I freaking hate THE TANKINI. Tankini--ppffft. That is definitely part of the MOM UNIFORM. All the young girls wear bikinis, or two piecers or sexy one piece bathing suits. They also wear short denim shorts. Moms, on the other hand, chop their long hair off, wear tankinis on the beach (basically, blousy shirts that come down low over those regrettably tight bottoms), and buy khaki capri pants. Blech. I actually stopped wearing my capri pants, after trucking around town and noticing all the mommy types wearing those instead of shorts. Well geez, if I wear short shorts now, I'd get a rash right at the point whereby my thighs are never NOT in contact with one another.

I should be beyond all this, and I guess I'm supposed to look at my GLAD BAG lower half and say; "well, this new body symbolizes a beautiful journey into becoming a mother." Nuts to that! I want to be slightly chubby with a sexy bathing suit and long hair again!

And to think I'll be at the beach again at the end of the month, and those girls will be everywhere. Discouragements, truly, abound.


  1. Awww. :( That blog made me feel sad. Having poor body image is terrible.

    First off. I think you are BEAUTIFUL. And I'm not just saying that because you're my sister....

    Secondly... Pregnancy absolutely ruins a body!!! Well, unless you're like those freakish girls who pop a baby out and SNAP back into their old form instantly. Grumble grumble.

  2. Well well, another woman who had a huge kid! my first was 10.5 lbs...then 9.14 two weeks early, 10.2, and then 8.6

    Don't feel too bad those girls on the beach don't know what is gonna hit them!

    I would just sit back and smirk to myself......" I know something you don't know"

  3. I don't have terrible body image--IN CLOTHES, but on the beach--forget about it.

    And yes, those girls on the beach have no idea...

    yeah--my daughter Ella, who was nearly ten pounds was born without a c-section, and with no assistance from any drugs! Shudder!

  4. Your still cute to me were the most beautiful little girl! You still have that doll face.
    I agree with Melissa (Cranberry Cottage) youth is fleeting and it will hit hits all of us!
    Look what Diane has to have done now of things!

  5. Well thanks Pam. I do recall you enjoying pinching my cheeks whenever I saw you. Yes, youth is fleeting, but why does there have to be so damn many of them floating around? Poor Diane. I am thinking of her. Who knows if that won't be the same road I'm headed down one day...


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