Fireworks

The 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays, right up there with Halloween. A large part of it is that I devour history books, and I have a particular fondness for critical players like George Washington and Alexander Hamilton, those with vision and dreams and a passion for this country. I like to recognize and honor the battles fought to become the United States of America in the first place.

Of course, another part of it is fireworks! My husband and I started a personal traditional years and years ago of taking a cooler, chairs, and plenty of sunscreen to a park nearby that launches fireworks for Independence Day. We are pros by now: we know what time to get there, where to park, the best place to set up our seats, which vendors to visit, which ones to skip, etc.

My older stepdaughter and her boyfriend joined us this year, and I enjoyed sharing this little tradition with them. Maybe it’s kind of silly, but our simple 4th of July tradition means a lot to me, so having them there with us and being a part of it made me happy.

This year, I wore a patriotic t-shirt that my husband got for me, and I love that he knows I can never have too many 4th of July shirts! He joked about being jealous of my star-spangled sunglasses and temporary tattoos, especially the one on my cheek. (Hey, I get into my favorite holidays!)

My stepdaughter complimented me and said I looked really good, and that made my night. I have focused this year on self-improvement and introspection and genuine, meaningful growth: not merely externally, but very much internally as well, and I believe it shows. Your heart shows through, and the truer you are, the brighter and more positive you are to others.

The night went by so quickly. I enjoyed it very much. Time to take down the red, white, and blue decorations and pack them away for next year…and start planning our Halloween decorations!

Happy Monday!

After a busy, hectic week, I was relieved to see the weekend finally show up. We managed to get a lot done yet still give ourselves the luxury of relaxing and just having fun.

I was surprised to see a loss at weigh-in on Saturday. I was sure it was going to be a gain. One benefit of manual labor, I guess! I was happy and will certainly take it.

My husband mowed the lawn on Saturday morning while I weeded and trimmed, then extended a flower bed at the side of our house, planted, and mulched. It was a lot of work, and hot, and sweaty, but I love taking a break to catch our breath and just stand in the yard with him, talking about other things we want to do. I love when he gets excited and wants to show me something, like a wild morning glory blooming on our fence.

I wasn’t done yet when he went inside for a shower, so he brought me a glass of ice water and told me, “Don’t overdo it.” I didn’t stay outside much longer. It was too hot, and I was drained from working in the sun.

On Sundays, my husband and I do our best to take a day just for us, to unwind, rest, and relax. Both of us work very hard during the week, usually end up doing some sort of home project on Saturdays, and we need the time to recharge before launching into another work week.

My older stepdaughter was home over the weekend, and my husband repaired a large, ugly dent in her car’s bumper. For the record, she did not cause the dent. I thought the jackass who caused the damage should have to repair it. Some people are not adult enough to take responsibility for damaging someone else’s property, though (but would shriek and howl if someone did the same thing to them.)

After that was done, though, we had fun just hanging out, talking, enjoying the day. It was beautiful and sunny, not cooled down enough for my liking yet, but it will get there.

This will be another busy week. I woke up before the alarm this morning for some reason. As I rolled over to get comfy, my husband, still asleep, reached out and slipped an arm around me like he was snuggling a teddy bear. It made me smile as I drifted back to sleep…just in time for the alarm to go off!

Happy Monday!

A Message for My Stepdaughters

The other night, I was flipping through a magazine and came across an article about body image.  I skimmed it, don’t even remember who wrote it, but I do remember thinking how sad it is that our society disvalues women and girls so much that we need to even have a never-ending discussion about body image.

Luckily, I have a healthy dose of “I-don’t-care-what-you-think-of-me”, and although I am aware of our culture’s wish for me to look and act a certain way, I don’t pay much attention to it.  But a lot of women and girls do, and it can be devastating.

It got me to thinking about my stepdaughters.  I don’t want them to ever spend even one second doubting themselves or feeling anything but proud of who they are.  I have a message for them, and for every woman and girl who might need this:

One: Companies make a lot of money from making you feel ugly.  Think about it.  How would the diet industry, cosmetics companies, hair product industry, expensive salons, skin care companies, or plastic surgeons stay in business if you were content with exactly how you are right now?  There’s a huge, billion-dollar industry banking on your insecurity, and a steady cash flow is funneled into making sure you feel fat, ugly, old, flawed, unattractive, not good enough.  Remember that when you see advertising, marketing, all the images thrown your way.  It’s deliberate: they want you to feel “not good enough” so you buy their products to be “better”. You are being manipulated!  Once you know their game, you are free not to play it.

Two: If you choose to wear make-up, please view it as fun, a way to enhance yourself, not a method of covering up, concealing, hiding, changing, etc.  There’s nothing wrong with wearing make-up, or choosing not to use it.  It’s up to you.  But if you do use it, don’t fall into the trap of feeling like it’s a tool to cover up or change who you are or what you look like.  Cosmetics companies would love for you to feel like every pore on your face is a flaw, your nose needs to be contoured into oblivion, or if your lashes don’t practically wrap around your head, there’s something wrong with you that can only be fixed with their products…see where I’m going here? Refer back to #1!   If you use make-up, use it to celebrate you, highlight what you love, and flaunt what makes you uniquely you.  It’s a spotlight, not a tarp.

Three: There is WAY more to you than just your looks.  Our society would like women to only care what they look like, as if the rest of us doesn’t matter.  The packaging is everything; the person is irrelevant.  How can you not be angered by that?  Don’t buy that crap.  You are smart, funny, full of ideas, brimming with talents.  Don’t ever lose sight of what you can DO, what you are capable of, what you THINK.  How you look is just a tiny piece of what makes you, you.  Don’t insult yourself by forgetting the rest, and don’t indulge our Neanderthal society by allowing it to reduce you to one dimension.  You’re more than that.  Embrace all of it.

I certainly hope I contribute something positive to my stepdaughters’ growth, self-esteem, and how they think about themselves.  I have tried my best to never frame my weight loss journey as something negative.  I don’t call myself or my body names, don’t whine about being fat, don’t act like there is anything shameful or wrong about where I am now or where I started.

I would be lying if I said looking good is not a reason that I am working so hard to lose weight, but it’s not the only reason.  Being overweight and out of shape is not healthy, and it’s not the best version of me that I can be.  My goal is to be strong, fit, healthy, and bad-ass!  I don’t see a point to striving to look like this model, or that actress, or anyone else.   If she looks good and is happy, then wonderful.  I want to look like me, just stronger, fitter.

Women and girls are not valued as they should be in our society: as human beings, as people, as intelligent and capable individuals.  It needs to change.  The worst part is, women and girls disrespect themselves so much each day, wanting to look like someone else, picking apart their appearances, wanting the stamp of approval from a society full of people who munch on Tide pods, for crying out loud.  Just stop!  Take a look around you, ladies.  The world is full of idiots.  Don’t take direction, commands, judgment, or mandates from a society this clueless and out of whack.

Back to my stepdaughters, and to anyone else who needs to hear this: I would say, you are not the ones who need to change.  You are most certainly not the ones who are not good enough.  We live in a society that truly does not deserve you, exactly the way you are.  Don’t ever doubt that, and don’t ever doubt yourselves.  Celebrate who you are.  Embrace everything about you that makes you, you.  Hold your head up high, be yourself.  Show the world just who it is reckoning with, and take this world by storm.

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Sloth

This was me yesterday:

Sloth

No, not fuzzy and cute, though I like to think I ain’t terribly bad-looking.  I’m talking about the sloth’s claim to fame: being lazy.  Slow.  Barely moving.  I am rather fond of the dictionary definition of sloth: “disinclination to exertion”.    Sums it up pretty well to me.

The only reason I even changed into normal clothes yesterday was because I had to run to the store.  Otherwise, much of my day was curled up under a blanket on the couch, coughing, sneezing, blowing my nose, and occasionally rising from the dead just long enough to pop some medicine.

Oddly, I actually enjoyed the day, except the annoying sick part.  My husband stayed with me, we ordered take-out for lunch so we didn’t have to join civilization for any reason, and we joked around and just talked and binge-watched some TV.  We didn’t get a single thing done we had planned on doing, but that’s all right.  I liked doing just what we were doing.

Luckily this ebola-like disease didn’t seize me by the throat until Sunday morning.  I felt it coming on, felt the tickle in my throat, the flush in my cheeks, that lightheaded feeling that says “Oh yay, something icky is taking over my body.  Thanks, useless immune system.  You’re fired.”

Saturday night, I was still able to pass for mostly human, so we went to my stepdaughter’s Christmas musical, armed with a few cough drops and tissues, just in case.  I couldn’t help but notice that Psycho was sitting by herself.  And by herself, I don’t mean a few empty seats around her.  I’m talking the entire row all to herself, like the parting of the sea around a noxious substance.  I would feel sorry for her, but hey, she brings it on herself with that dazzling personality and just-sucked-a-lemon facial expression of hers.

My stepdaughter’s Christmas musical was cute.  She had a speaking part and did really well.  We got a few pictures after the show while my stepdaughter chatted non-stop about how the shoes hurt her feet, how she hates pantyhose (amen), how hard it was to get her hair into a bun, etc.  She is rarely, if ever, at a loss for topics to discuss at length.

Today I’m at work but doubting if this was a terribly good idea.  The office is so quiet, every time I start coughing, it echoes like gun shots.  I have a lot to get done, though, so guess I’ll tough it out for now.

I had signed up for a fitness class after work, but since simply inhaling is a struggle right now, I went ahead and cancelled.  I should be able to do a light workout at home instead.  Most likely, it will be along these lines (keeping with today’s sloth theme):

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More Insanity, and Eye Liner!

As promised, last night I did the 55-minute Insanity workout called Max Interval Plyo.  It was a piece of cake, a walk in the park, and I barely broke a sweat…just kidding!  I seriously need to remember to grab a towel before I start these workouts.  I end up snorting sweat up my nose, which I’m sure you’re glad to know all about, but hey, this is an honest review!

There are a lot of push-ups in this workout.  I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned I hate push-ups.  And mountain climbers.  There are a lot of those too, as well as other exercises that require my head to be upside down, a huge pet peeve of mine.  I just don’t like it.  But I know the moves are in this workout for a reason, so I do my best to just do them, though I have to admit I take more breaks during the moves I don’t like, like this one:

This move is called the “What the Hell are We Doing, and Why Would We Even Think About Attempting This?” move.  Okay, that’s what I call it.  I believe Shaun T calls it something else, like side to side hops or something less inventive like that.  I hate my shirt wadding up around my ears like that.  Refer back to “I hate moves that require my head to be upside down”.

I adore Shaun T, so I grit my teeth and do my best, until I just have to yank my shirt back down or catch my break or swear at Shaun T, constructive things like that.  As much as I hate some of the moves, there is absolutely no denying that these workouts are intense, working my body like crazy, and making me stronger, even though during the workout, sometimes I feel like this:

I hadn’t intended for my workout review to turn into a make-up review, but I noticed that when I went to wash my face after the Insanity workout, all my make-up had of course sweated off, except my eyeliner.  Granted, it wasn’t as prominent or neat and tidy as it was pre-workout, but it was still there, and still looked pretty good, which was impressive, given all the sweating and face-wiping.

So here is a shout-out to L.A. Girl Glide Gel Liner, which I picked up for something like $3.99 at Ulta.

Today’s workout is done already, since I got up at oh-my-god o’clock to hit the gym.  I’m leaving work early today to head to my older stepdaughter’s awards ceremony at her school, and since the kids’ schools are an hour drive each way, we won’t be home until late, so I had to fit in my workout this morning.  My stepdaughter has straight A’s, and has carried that most of the school year.  She is intelligent and works hard.  She texted her daddy last night to tell him she is excited to see us there, so I wouldn’t miss this for the world.

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