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Mar 17, 2008

Dressed Up For The Prom

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When going to a party, there’s always that fear in the back of your mind that you might run into another woman at the party wearing the exact. same. dress. And it’s even worse if she looks better in the dress than you do, right?

OK, truthfully, I probably wouldn’t care. I’ve never been much of a slave to fashion myself. Except for prom in high school. When it came to my prom, I wanted to have the best dress out there. I remember buying Your Prom magazine and clipping out pictures of dresses I liked, scrutinizing the features of each dress, considering which dresses would look best on my figure and so on. It was the one time in my life when you could officially call me “girly”.

For the 1993 prom, I picked the perfect dress. We were still in the final few years of the Southern belle style gowns in the Midwest, before slim-line dresses would become the prom gold standard, and when I saw this dress I knew it was for me. Off the shoulder to show off my upper half, full skirt to hide my lower half, and in my perfect color: royal blue. Plus let’s not forget the lace and tulle.

While the dress was nearly impossible to fold into my date’s car, I felt like a princess. And thankfully, when I walked in I was relieved to see no one else was wearing my dress. (Although two other girls were wearing a dress in the same style, different color, and gave each other the evil eye all night for it).

So you can imagine my surprise when, 15 years after the prom, I see my dress on someone else while surfing through my Bloglines! It would seem that the dress was also perfect for T With Honey. Proof? OK, click the link and take a look at that dress. Yes, she had it pulled up to show off her awesome lace ankle boots, but you can get the general idea.

And now, me in the dress:

Focus on the dress, not the geeky date, OK?

See? Same dress. And my 31 year-old self LOVES that I wasn’t the only one who wore that dress to prom. That dress meant so much to me – I put so much of my self-worth into that dress. How I looked in my prom dress would determine my entire prom night, which would determine how my high school experience would be capped. It’s crazy to think I put so much importance on a dress, but oh how I loved it.

I’m not sure what happened to my prom dress. It hung in my room, plastic dry-cleaning bag still covering it, until I graduated from college. At that point my mom moved, and many of my things were boxed up or discarded. I think I told her to get rid of the dress, and that’s probably for the best. I’d be happy to see one of my daughters wear my wedding dress, but I’d rather they stay far away from that mess of satin, lace and tulle. I don’t think it’ll come back in style during this century.

Anyone else want to show off their totally cool prom dresses? Or even better, prom hair? You can’t see all the curls well in that picture, but I can assure you that it took over three hours and a gazillion bobby pins to pull off that hair sculpture. If someone else posts their prom hair, maybe I’ll dig out a close-up of mine to show off.

Filed Under: me me me, memories ·


Feb 21, 2008

Exercise, Or How To Prove I No Longer Have The Knees Of A 21 Year Old

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I’ve talked about food so far for Hot by BlogHer, and now it’s time to move on to exercise.

But wait! This just in! I said I’d get a button, and here it is:

(extra special warm & fuzzy thanks to Mother Bumper for her design!)

If you’re participating with me, feel free to snag the button and display it proudly on your blog.

So, back to exercise…

I hate exercise. Actually, that’s not true. I usually feel great after a workout, but it’s that whole getting my butt off the couch and starting part that I don’t like so much. And with kids, school, work, housework, and hey, is Ellen on TV right now? getting in the way, finding time to get up and move isn’t so easy. But part of loving myself is taking better care of myself, and exercise is a must for a healthy body.

Since I’m getting zero use out of our gym membership (note to self: cancel membership), I’m going back to the Workout: Home Edition model, aka workout DVDs. Less embarrassment that way, too – I don’t need skinny fitness models watching me while I try to work on my self-esteem as well as my abs.

I’ve done workout videos in the past, and I remember how boring they are. The moves are lame, the routines dull, and I feel pretty stupid doing arm circles and leg lifts to cheesy 80’s pop. I want something exciting. Something fun. Something that will make me feel like I might be learning something along with getting a great workout.

The search through the sea of fitness videos was long and painful:

Jane Fonda and her thong leotard – no thanks.

If there’s one thing that a platform you step up and down on will never be, it’s cool. Sorry, truth hurts.

I tried Tae Bo in the 90’s, and didn’t look good doing it then. I doubt I’d do any better ten years later. I can live with the knowledge that I will never be a kickboxer.

Walking three miles while never leaving your living room – that’s the definition of fun, isn’t it? It’s like walking outdoors, without the scenery.

I finally decided I wanted a dance video. After all, it worked so well for Lotus, it had to work for me! Learning a dance would be exciting and fun not boring, and I’d convince my body to participate because we’re not working out, we’re dancing and having FUN! See the difference? There were so many choices: salsa dance, dancin’ to the oldies, cardio dance, ballet, tap, bellydance, African dance, urban dance, and even country line dancing workouts. Oh and this one, too:

Uhm, no. Not yet. Let me get to the self-esteem part of my life change before we tackle striptease, OK?

I thought about it some more, and settled on this:


I love Bollywood movies, and I’ve had a few lessons in basic bellydance, too. And it fit my requirements: dance! fun! something I’m interested in! The reviews all said things like “oh, this video is a lot of fun, although it wasn’t as strenuous as I hoped it would be.” Perfect! Just what a woman who is getting back into exercise needs. (And Lotus, it doesn’t require shoes, either.)

So yesterday, while Mira napped, and Cordy was at preschool, I pulled the DVD out of the Amazon box, unwrapped it and popped it in the player, ready to sweat and have FUN! Hemalayaa stressed that this wasn’t a workout – this was play! (Like every other workout instructor, she was just a little too excited about exercising, er, playing.)

The workout started out with some quick moves, but I managed to keep up. Shimmy, shimmy, shimmy, hip rock, etc. She didn’t give me much time to figure out each new move, but I can do this, I thought. And look, they all have their hair down – they must not expect to sweat much. Haha – I can be so naive sometimes.

That was just the warm up. Then the dance moves started coming fast and furious: turn in a circle, shoulders bouncing (how do they do that?), now step-step-point, hop three times on one leg to the left and then the right, knees in and out, arms alternating left then right – would you give me the chance to catch up you crazy Bollywood freak!?!? And her favorite saying: don’t forget to SMILE!

I tried to smile. I tried to look beautiful with my exotic moves, exuding confidence and sensuality while shimmying and bouncing. But in reality I looked more like I was having a seizure.

I wanted to look like this:

(ooooh, they’re so cool they can dance on a moving train!)

But looked more like a dancer who was rejected from this:

(Have you been high today?)

I made it through 2/3 of the torture before I couldn’t handle it anymore. My knees were killing me and I couldn’t catch my breath. I skipped ahead to the cool down, then collapsed on the floor with my water bottle.

The cat had no sympathy. He thought I looked like a dork, too.

I’m not defeated, though. Hemalayaa will not get the best of me, and I’ll be back for more humiliation play. But maybe I need to take things slower? Start with something more my speed?

Wait. Advanced may be too much. Better start with the beginner.

Those of you who are with me on this journey, how are you getting your body moving? Remember, carrying laundry up and down the stairs doesn’t count.

Filed Under: clearly insane, me me me · Tagged:


Feb 7, 2008

A Turning Point

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Quick quiz: How many months pregnant was I in this picture?


4 months? 5 months? 6 months?

Nope, all wrong. The answer is: I’m 8 months postpartum.

(Did I just lose subscribers over that? I think I heard someone click that unsubscribe button. It’s OK, I understand. I’ll spare you from the belly shot without clothing. The stretch marks alone would scare the rest of you away.)

Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before making a change. And right now? This is me, hitting hard on the cold stone floor. And damn it hurts.

I know I said I wasn’t making any New Year’s Resolutions, and I’m not. But it’s time to admit that I’m really not happy with myself. I don’t like being overweight, I don’t like all of the extra curves on top of my curves, and I’m really sick of being asked, “So when are you due?”

I don’t always look like the picture above. I’m amazingly adept at sucking in my stomach and holding it all. day. long. But eventually I have to breathe, or I forget for a moment, and suddenly I look pregnant again. Even Spanx can’t hide it all.

Beyond the physical, my mental health is also suffering. I had depression when pregnant with Cordy, and I worried about developing PPD after Mira was born. I think I was too busy trying to deal with two kids early on to let myself feel down. Now I can feel the darkness quietly creeping in again, and I think it’s partially motivated by my unhappiness with my physical appearance.

So it’s time for a change, and that change can begin by asking myself: what do I really want? I want to be healthy, in body, mind and spirit. I want to eat better, get more exercise, and lose weight. I want to feel good about my body instead of ashamed of it.

And to be completely honest?

I want to be hot by BlogHer ’08.

OK, it’s a little shallow, I’ll admit. But I’ve been to the BlogHer conference twice now, and both times I felt like the “big girl” hanging out with all of the pretty girls. There’s a lot of gorgeous women in the blogging world.

This past year, I had an 8 week old excuse:

Mira’s first BlogHer, sleeping through the party

But the year before, there was no excuse:

BlogHer ’06: The year of the pasties

I wasn’t always this big. In fact, just five years ago I felt pretty good about how I looked. Amazing how having two kids and letting yourself go a little can wreck your appearance.

Our honeymoon: Florida, 2003

BlogHer ’08 is my goal date. I want to be hot by BlogHer ’08. And by “hot” I don’t necessarily mean skinny. Skinny isn’t going to happen – my body isn’t built that way. Instead, I’m setting realistic goals:

– I want to be at a healthier weight. I have no set number I must reach – that will only depress me. Instead, I’d like to see myself in a smaller clothing size (no particular size, just smaller), and not look like my uterus is currently under lease for another few months.

– I want to eat more natural foods, and less fat and fried foods. Mira has officially weaned as of this week, so cutting back on calories isn’t a bad thing. I can’t eat like a breastfeeding woman anymore. More fruits, veggies, and water, and more emphasis on portion control. I’m not giving up the foods I love, but I will remind myself that there is no threat to the world’s chocolate supply, so I don’t need to eat it like it’ll all disappear tomorrow.

– I want to enjoy exercise again. There was a time I actually liked exercising (or liked it as much as a sane person can really like exercise). I was happy to see the changes it caused and marveled at what my body could do. But I need to find a form of exercise I like enough to do more than once.

– I want to be satisfied with what I see in the mirror. This is quite an undertaking, because it will involve mental as well as physical change. I need to start working with my body instead of against it, thinking of it only as a shell I wish I didn’t have to lug around with me.

– I want to be happier with my life, giving off waves of self-confidence and satisfaction. While times are tough for us in some ways, I have a lot of good things happening right now. It’s time to focus on what makes me happy and not on the things I’m unhappy about but can’t change.

Yes, I know there are far better reasons to want to be healthier: living longer, setting a good example for my daughters, and a lowered risk of heart disease, diabetes, and cancer. I want all of those, too, but it’s hard to get motivated by those long-term reasons.

But – hot by BlogHer? (I love that phrase. I swear I’m going to make a button for that.) That’s a goal in the near future I can work towards.

I’m ready. I’m motivated. I’m determined.

Can I do it?

I think I can.

(Anyone want to join me?)

Coming up soon: Specific plans, a full round of starting pictures, my past history with my weight, and detailing how I’m going to keep myself accountable by blogging.

UPDATE! We now have a button, thanks to the design mastery of Mother Bumper! Feel free to add it to your blog (but link back here so people know what you’re talking about, m’kay?).

HotByBlogher

Filed Under: BlogHer08, me me me · Tagged:


Jan 30, 2008

You Learn Something New Everyday

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Where have I been? While I’d like to say I spent a long weekend frolicking on a beach or wrapped up in heavy blankets by the fireplace sipping hot chocolate and reading magazines, the truth is less glamorous. I’ve been devoting a lot of my time to studying pharmacology, postpartum assessment, and oh my god someone actually gave me the go-ahead to perform subcutaneous injections! On people, even! What were they thinking?

Oh, and if anyone ever tells you nursing school is a breeze, I give you full permission to slap them across the face and call them a no good, lying-liarly-fibbity-fib. I didn’t work half this hard to get my bachelors degree. (OK, it was in history, not exactly engineering, I know.) And I don’t remember grad school being this hard, either. I think I even had less to read in grad school.

So naturally I’m being torn apart by the conflicting pulls of full-time wife and mommy, mostly-full-time blogger, and full-time student. Please don’t interpret that as whining, though – I fully knew what I was getting myself into. I’m one of those compulsive busy people – if I’m not overbooked, I must find more projects to fill my time.

Sure, I get stressed out and miserable from trying to keep up, but if I were to drop something, you can bet I’d find something else to fill that void without even thinking about it. Which is why my Irish dance shoes are dusty, my knitting keeps getting put aside, the half-bath is still half-wallpapered, and Aaron will continue to nag me about sewing him a Jedi outfit. Like I said, it’s an addiction.

You think there’s a pill to fix that?

Oh wait – I’m the one studying pharmacology, aren’t I?

Anyway, back to what I intended to write about: they say that any day you learn something new is a good day. (Who are they? Um, I have no idea. Maybe I’m the only one who says that.) My first day on the postpartum unit for my clinical was Friday, and I did pick up one very important lesson along with the standard stuff we had to learn.

The hospital I was assigned to is inner-city, or as inner-city as you can get in this city. Many students were assigned to the cushy suburban hospitals, where they focus on providing swanky maternity wards with big screen TVs, hardwood floors and aromatherapy. This hospital is more concerned with all of the traumas that are being brought in the front doors and by helicopter. Maternity isn’t their chief concern. So you can imagine that many people who have a choice decide to not have their babies at this hospital.

Doing a health history for my patient, I look over all of the normal stuff: young, third child, no steady partner, drinks, smokes, little prenatal care, etc. We start talking about her support network, and I ask if she has any family she can depend on.

“Yeah, my dad helps me out, and my grandma drives me where I need to go. I don’t see my mom much anymore because she smokes.”

I keep going, finishing out the history and thanking her for letting students ask her a thousand questions. Later, reviewing the data with my clinical partner, I see that information again.

“Wait a second. She said she smokes a few cigarettes everyday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So why did she say she no longer sees her mom because she smokes? That doesn’t make sense.”

While he didn’t show it on the outside, I’m sure he was rolling his eyes at me inwardly. “She meant crack. Her mom smokes crack.”

It was like the light of not-so-divine revelation shined down on me. “Ooooooooo, OK. I get it now,” I replied.

Somehow I feel a little less innocent now.

Clinical Day 1 Lesson: Always ask for clarification when using the term “smokes”.

Filed Under: clearly insane, me me me, school ·


Jan 18, 2008

Haiku Friday: Nursing School Back in Session

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Moms and new babies
My clinicals start today
Nursing can be fun

I’ll be waking up at 5am today to get into scrubs and drive downtown for my second quarter of clinicals. This time we’re focusing on mothers and infants, so we’ll be spending seven hours each week on the labor & delivery and postpartum floors of the hospital.

Some students seem disinterested by this, but I’m thrilled. This is why I decided to switch careers and become a nurse – I want to work in OB, helping new moms through this difficult and amazing transition. It’s going to be hard, since this is the first time we’ll be actively taking care of patients (last quarter we did only a few basic care duties in a nursing home), so I hope I’ll do well.

PS – Be sure to check out Mommy’s Must Haves today, too, where I’m reviewing The Wheels on the Bus: Mango’s Big Dog Parade DVD for the Parent Bloggers Network. Roger Daltrey (remember him from The Who?) is one of the character voices, and that’s not even the best part. Bonus feature (from me, not the DVD): another new photograph of Mira!

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below or at Jennifer’s blog with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your generic blog URL). If you need help with this, contact Jennifer or myself.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button above.

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Filed Under: me me me, school ·