Garage Sales/Girl vs. Gut
I took a day off work to prepare for our garage sale tomorrow. Actually, both of us did! We've been meaning to have one, but it seems like we never get around to getting it done. I am amazed at how many precious baby clothes I am going to sell, but I have saved my very favorites, certain ones I'll probably never part with. The bad thing about keeping clothes, is you put them safely in a nice bin, and when you take them out-BAM! There are stains on the clothes that never existed when they were being worn.
Let me get off track here for a second. I am the queen of laundry, second only to my mother. Do I get it all done and keep my laundry room empty? No. I'm the queen because I can get almost any stain out of almost any item of clothing. Years of being my mom's understudy has prepared me for any clothing catastrophe to come my way.
Back to the point, the clothes get stained magically. I feel like it is better to let the clothes go to a new home, where a precious little baby girl will get to make her mama and papa smile in her cute new little outfits. Our new little family was so blessed by our families and friends when we celebrated Ayla Marley's upcoming arrival at our baby bbq, so I feel it best to pay it forward the best I can. Hopefully in the process, we will score a little green so we can start saving for the wedding we want to have next fall. Nothing extraordinary, just a fun celebration with the many wonderful people in our lives. A chance to have a day about us, which is a rarity when you have offspring. Garage sale preparations have left me feeling both accomplished and a little nostalgic. It is sad to see so many of Ayla's things go because she isn't that little baby anymore. She's a little girl, a toddler exploring the world and testing (did I mention testing?) her boundaries.
As I sit here typing, I see my reflection in the rather large and evil mirror to my left. All I see is gut. Belly. That spare tire around my middle and the gargantuan breasts sitting atop it. It is depressing. People often give me dieting advice, such as to stop drinking soda and eating mayo on everything. Which is helpful, except I don't do those things. Throughout my life, I've been a disordered eater. I eat too much or not enough. My life is at one end of the spectrum or the other in that capacity. Being newly engaged, I should be excited and starry-eyed about dress shopping. I'm not. It is the one thing that makes me want to go to the courthouse and do our wedding there. Dress shopping-it is a time that should be happy and joyful and exciting. But all I know is that it will be dreadful unless something changes. The Gut. The 3-digit number on the scale that is on the wrong side of 150. I left the hospital at 150, and let me tell you, it has gone up...not down.
I've worked hard. I trained so hard with my friend Tanna, who is an awesome trainer. I've tried this, that, and the other. To no avail. When I work hard and don't see results, I'm eating the brownie. Screw it, right?
My health is so important, and after 14 years of a chronic pain disease (RSD), I am grateful for the relatively good health I enjoy. There are battles I face-excruciating pain most don't face at age 26. Throughout my illness, my weight has waxed and waned. I've been 150 lbs. I've been 95 lbs. There have been times I have been desperately hungry from the medication and steroids in my system. Other times, I've been desperate to feel hungry...when everything imaginable has been unappetizing.
I wish I could wake up in the body I used to dread seeing in the mirror. I'd appreciate it like I never did before.
Let me get off track here for a second. I am the queen of laundry, second only to my mother. Do I get it all done and keep my laundry room empty? No. I'm the queen because I can get almost any stain out of almost any item of clothing. Years of being my mom's understudy has prepared me for any clothing catastrophe to come my way.
Back to the point, the clothes get stained magically. I feel like it is better to let the clothes go to a new home, where a precious little baby girl will get to make her mama and papa smile in her cute new little outfits. Our new little family was so blessed by our families and friends when we celebrated Ayla Marley's upcoming arrival at our baby bbq, so I feel it best to pay it forward the best I can. Hopefully in the process, we will score a little green so we can start saving for the wedding we want to have next fall. Nothing extraordinary, just a fun celebration with the many wonderful people in our lives. A chance to have a day about us, which is a rarity when you have offspring. Garage sale preparations have left me feeling both accomplished and a little nostalgic. It is sad to see so many of Ayla's things go because she isn't that little baby anymore. She's a little girl, a toddler exploring the world and testing (did I mention testing?) her boundaries.
As I sit here typing, I see my reflection in the rather large and evil mirror to my left. All I see is gut. Belly. That spare tire around my middle and the gargantuan breasts sitting atop it. It is depressing. People often give me dieting advice, such as to stop drinking soda and eating mayo on everything. Which is helpful, except I don't do those things. Throughout my life, I've been a disordered eater. I eat too much or not enough. My life is at one end of the spectrum or the other in that capacity. Being newly engaged, I should be excited and starry-eyed about dress shopping. I'm not. It is the one thing that makes me want to go to the courthouse and do our wedding there. Dress shopping-it is a time that should be happy and joyful and exciting. But all I know is that it will be dreadful unless something changes. The Gut. The 3-digit number on the scale that is on the wrong side of 150. I left the hospital at 150, and let me tell you, it has gone up...not down.
I've worked hard. I trained so hard with my friend Tanna, who is an awesome trainer. I've tried this, that, and the other. To no avail. When I work hard and don't see results, I'm eating the brownie. Screw it, right?
My health is so important, and after 14 years of a chronic pain disease (RSD), I am grateful for the relatively good health I enjoy. There are battles I face-excruciating pain most don't face at age 26. Throughout my illness, my weight has waxed and waned. I've been 150 lbs. I've been 95 lbs. There have been times I have been desperately hungry from the medication and steroids in my system. Other times, I've been desperate to feel hungry...when everything imaginable has been unappetizing.
I wish I could wake up in the body I used to dread seeing in the mirror. I'd appreciate it like I never did before.
you are a poet! A gifted writer! I love you and I so often know those exact feelings! XOXO
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