Skinny Jeans

I have a dream, and it is skinny jeans. I’ll admit it. I’m shallow. You know those little pants that Audrey Hepburn used to wear with ballet flats? Little, tiny, adorable, Audrey Hepburn?  And while I dream of skinny jeans, my thighs jerk me back to reality, laugh and say,  “You gotta be kidding me!”

True confessions. Since blossoming into womanhood I’ve always battled my weight. And it has won every single, stinkin’ time. I realize I’m not that different from a lot of other people, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’ve done it all. Weight Watchers, Nutri-System, Jenny Craig, OA, Alli, and scariest of all, Phen-Fen. And I’ve been incredibly successful. My closet has an amazing range of sizes available, which will attest to my winning success and crushing failure!

I should probably clarify my current weight, no matter how painful this is for me. I’m a chubster. Not, “Oh my God, we’ll have to bury her in a piano case!” or “It’s a shame she can’t even leave the house.” I don’t have to have my clothing specially made either, although I often crack wise about a certain Omar the Tent Maker. Long story short, people don’t point at me on the street and wonder what circus I escaped from. But, I’m still over-weight. Fat. Ugh.

One of my favorite quotes is, “I’m built for comfort, not for speed.” It’s true. So, no matter how much I may pine away for skinny jeans, I’m not built for ’em. I’ve got hips, booty, and boobs. I’m not built like a boy and I’m happy about that! But, I also know that I can have a great caboose and nice cans, and be healthy. That’s what it really boils down to… I want to be healthy. I’ve watched my parents battle diabetes and arthritis, and I don’t want that to be me.

I’m going to a nutritionist on August 2nd and I guess I’m mentally gearing up for it now. I’m nervous about it, I’ll admit. The things I’m nervous about are:

1. I have to give up dessert.
2. She’s going to give me some ridiculous weight goal that I don’t agree with. I hate those weight charts they hand out. I once got down to the weight they had listed for my height. I looked like a lollipop girl. All head and skinny body. Some of my friends said I looked like I was sick (or on crack). Although I admit, I loved being told I was too skinny!
3. What if she makes me eat stuff I don’t like?
4. I’m going to have to give up cooking my favorite foods.
5. I’m going to have to exercise!
6. What if I fail this program too?

Number 6 scares me most of all.

Independence Day

Sitting in the kitchen while I wait for a cake to come out of the oven. It’s a flag cake. You know the one – blueberries, raspberries, white icing. Dogs are lying on the kitchen floor trying to stay cool and the cats are where ever cats go at this time of day. The Dude is in the garage listening to the radio and fixing the lawn tractor. It’s a sunny summer day, the air conditioning is working, the fridge is filled with food for the upcoming BBQ, and overall life is good.

This is when I start to think about how blessed we all are.

I was never particularly patriotic when I was in my 20’s and 30’s. Sure I enjoyed the Fourth of July fireworks, and I was even a bit moved when I would hear “The Star Spangled Banner.” But I wasn’t a flag waver, God forbid. It just wasn’t cool. I think the reason for my patriotic disconnect, for lack of a better word, was because I had never experienced our country in war-time.

Oh sure, I remember Viet Nam vaguely. When I was a little girl I remember my parents watching the news at night as Walter Cronkite spoke in a somber voice about the number of soldiers killed in the various battles. I knew it wasn’t good, but to a young kid, with no family  in the military at that time, it just didn’t seem “real.”

Like so many others, my views changed on September 11, 2001. That is the day it became “real” for me. This isn’t a post about September 11th, because so much has been written in the past. We all know where we were, how it felt, and how our behaviors changed in the days, weeks, and months after that horrific day.

What this post is about is my finally becoming aware of just how good we have it in this amazing country. Thank God that by the luck of the draw I was born here. I can go pretty much where I want, live where I want, pray how I want, love who I want, wear what I want, and yes, even say what I want, even if it is against the government!

No matter what your political stance, just think for a moment about the people who have answered the call to protect those freedoms I’ve listed. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than peace in this world. I don’t consider myself a “hawk,” and politically I’m pretty much a middle of the road kind of gal. Not too far left, and not too far right on most issues. But as we celebrate another 4th of July, think about the men and women in uniform who won’t be home to enjoy the cold beer and hot dogs. Who won’t be spending time at the lake or the beach, or watching fireworks on a warm summer night with their sweetheart.

Could I do what they do? Absolutely not. And I can’t imagine what their families go through as they wait for them to come home.

The video below made the rounds on Facebook a while back. It’s about coming home. Grab a tissue and watch. And then go out and celebrate what a great country we live in. Oh, and say thanks to a vet if you get the opportunity!