She wore an itsy bitsy teeny weeny....

I work out 5 days a week, but I still have back fat (and no Victoria, contrary to what all of your blackly dressed sales reps say, a proper fitting bra is not the "secret.").

I eat fruits & veggies & lean protein, but I still have bat wings (you know the arm pit fat that is the only thing coming between you and that rad tube top you've been eyeing).

I crossed the finish line of a triathlon on them, but my legs have so much cellulite it would make Richard Simmons weep.

I have scars where babies were birthed and scars from cancer scares and scars from A&W mug inflicted stitches. I have stretch marks from the "freshman 50" (oh that was supposed to be the freshman 15? And why didn't anyone tell me?) and stretch marks from being pregnant for 10 ridiculous months and stretch marks in places where the sun don't shine and where it does.


Fluorescently-lit dressing rooms are not my friend. Neither are bikinis. But I (I'll pause while you stop reading mom) bought one. No yellow polka dots, but a bikini nonetheless. And I wore it. Lunch gut, white belly and all. And I was self-conscious the entire time. But I did it anyway.

Because I'm not getting lipo. Because I'm not getting a boob job (while I am crazy jealous of those of you whose boobs will still look perky in 25 years thanks to a skilled surgeon, it's just not my thing). Because I'm not getting botox or fewer wrinkles or any younger. But mostly because I endlessly preach to my daughters about loving ourselves just as we are, while I cringe at a full-length mirror. It's an absurd double standard that just needs to end.

My husband loves me, lights on and all. High time I did too.

Cry baby

I've cried a lot these last few days. Because of this and this. I've also...

Cried when the dust transferred to my eyes from the old boxes of donated goods we were sorting and tagging, tagging and sorting.

Cried when the exhaustion set in and I was so physically drained that my emotions began to short circuit.

Cried when, in the 11th hour, just as we were throwing our hands up wondering why no one cared about these families like we did, 2 local news stations showed up at the exact same moment to feature the sale on the nightly news.

Cried when a little girl of maybe 6 walked up to me at the sale and handed me 3 quarters. When I asked what she was purchasing, her mother said "Nothing, she just wanted you guys to have her money."

Cried when the grand total raised was revealed: $4,345.80 in a little over 6 hours.

And tomorrow, when we present a check to THIS family, I will be sure to wear waterproof mascara. I have a feeling my eyes haven't seen the last of the tears.

Call me a cry baby if you will. Small price to pay for the opportunity to be a part of something so incredible.

Living Selfishly

I'm 31 now. As of the 3rd. And this past year has been such an interesting one, in such a good way.

If we are being honest, and we are, besides the birth of my daughters, my 20's were somewhat of blur. I was so hellbent on making something of myself that I forgot to take a peek inside and realize that making something of one's self starts there. I know that now.

I also know how important being selfish is.

I wanted to be the best friend. The best employee. The best wife. The best mother. I didn't want to let anyone else down. And in doing so I let myself down all the time. I was the easiest person to let down. I felt there would be little consequence. I was wrong.

I  know now that serving myself is just as important as serving others. And I have discovered that when I do allow myself to selfishly put my needs up there with the needs of everyone else in my life, it makes me happy, not guilty as I always believed it would.

I will never stop serving others (I'm no Mother Theresa. I serve for selfish purposes because it makes me feel needed). But I will now reserve a little time to do things that are important to me and me alone. I have learned that when I do that, I have so much more energy and motivation.

I guess I never thought being selfish would feel so good. Only took me 31 years to figure that out.

ps. In an ironic Happy Birthday to Me, I was gifted the flu. An idiot-proof diet method is what I always wanted though, so I'm not complaining!