Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Weight

Today I read Fadra's Stream of Conscientiousness post and it hit a cord. It was about feeling fat, gaining weight, and what that means to us individually. Actually, she felt the need to defend her fatness.

In her defense she is petite and gaining 10 pounds to her is one thing, to me it's another. I am not petite. I am quite tall as a matter of fact. I can gain 10 pounds gracefully to all those around me. To me I see it in my ass, stomach, and everywhere else we women see our weight gain.

But that isn't my point. My point is that I am 20 pounds over my "ideal" weight. That translates to my pre-babies weight. I put a lot of weight on with both boys and can't naturally return to the weight of my early 20s without a rigorous diet and exercise.

I actually tried to do those two thing. I even kept a food diary. I felt the need to be what I was. The thing is, I'm nowhere close to what I was physically, mentally, or emotionally. Why should my weight be the same thing?

For me it came down to what is attractive. I thought I was more attractive before. I mean, someone once told me I was model sexy. Of course a close friend also told me I was near scary skinny. I guess perception is a big key.

Something simple happened though one evening with friends. I ran into an old Brazilian friend who I used to hang out with pre-kiddos. I made a comment about the changed body. She replied without thinking "You had no body then." Of course she back peddled and I stopped her. I didn't have a body. I was a hanger for clothing.

I am skinny. It's the genetic gene pool that I am swimming in. I will never fill in a cleavage shirt. I can't pull off booty shorts as no matter what weight I gain I have no freaking booty. And I will always be taller than half of the Brazilian male population that is older than me. There just isn't much I can do about that.

Here's the thing though, I don't care anymore. At this point, I almost feel sorry for the younger group. You see, when you get past 30s and meet a slightly (slightly) more mature crowd, body starts to even out with other qualities. That and womanliness isn't such a bad thing.

So for now I will enjoy my more open hips, fuller legs, and softer stomach. I look like a healthy woman who has brought life into this world. Call me an old lady romantic but I can't think of anything sexier! If you can, thank goodness you aren't the person I'm sharing my bed with!
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This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
Link up your post below.
Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Stream of Consciousness Sunday

The Rules as told by Fadra: This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

I've decided to finally join in on Fadra's stream of consciousness Sunday. A 5 minute open writing exercise similar to verbal vomiting but only in writing form.

I remember doing this is my creative writing class in high school. I would spend half my time doodling.

And here I am again. My youngest calling my name over and over again just to come look at his finger. That's my life, a serious of distractions that are too interesting to pass up. Of course I want to look at his finger. Goodness knows it's only an excuse to call my attention but who cares.

And I sit at this computer blabbing away while surrounded by far too much to do. An exciting/disastrous ladies night on Friday put me out on Saturday. The kiddos fever on the same day gave me the perfect excuse for dumping my responsibilities and just laying around with him.

This weekend has been just that, a realization of the imporantance of being there for one another. Talking to friends, giving attention to family, and seeing where each other are at.

We can get so caught up in our own lives that we don't even see what's happening to the people around us. We have no clue that there's something behind someone's smile.

But it all turns out ok, one way or another. For now, I'm going to try to clean up our daily messes that have accumulated over the past couple of days. That and get together my friend's clothes as ladies night turned into a fashion show. Let the world's strength be with me as I return everything. She has far more style than I do and I would so love all this stuff just to disappear into my closet!