Month: January 2019

Postpartum Body Image

Juli

Body image is such a journey.  Postpartum is such a journey.

It’s exhausting.

postpartum body image

I feel like I was given a serious lucky break when it comes to my postpartum body, in that I morphed gradually.  After my first baby, I snapped back to my pre-pregnancy weight almost immediately, had very few stretch marks, and felt very much like myself.
After the second, there was some unusual thickness around the middle and a little different hair texture (my curls fell into moreso waves) but overall, still alright.

But this third baby… oh, daughter, what you hath wrought.

I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been.
There is some kind of lower-abdomen situation that cannot be disguised even by Spanx.
My skin seems to have taken a serious turn – vicious acne during and after pregnancy, texture problems, some sort of extreme dryness? and total lack of vitality or elasticity.
My hair fell out in clumps and has grown back in so much straighter.  (I self-identify with my big, curly hair – this is a blow.)
Essentially, I look and feel like a mom of four and am fighting tooth and nail not to “let myself go.”

It’s not that I don’t care how I look anymore.  It’s not that I’m no longer interesting in style.  It’s not even that I’m too tired and pressed for time to look presentable.
It’s that everything I knew about my physical self is different.  I spent decades of my life, as most women do, getting to know my body, my skin, my hair – its limitations, its beauty, the way to get it to look and feel its best.  And all the sudden I’m starting all over.

I’m too old for this.

I should not be hitting another awkward middle school stage in my 30s.

I knew how to dress myself to my best advantage, how to style my hair, how to take care of my face as best I could.  And I’ve gone back in time to a bathroom full of failed products, scraping my hair up in a ponytail because it “won’t behave,” throwing on baggy clothing and hoping for the best.

I know, deep down, that it doesn’t matter what I look like.  That nothing about my value as a person or a mother has anything to do with my physical appearance.  But it matters to ME.
Sometimes I think we (mothers? society? I don’t know who the “we” is) forget that something gets to matter JUST FOR THE MOTHER.
I’m preoccupied with trying to accept myself, AGAIN, when I thought I’d already gotten those issues out of the way in my early 20s. I don’t want to go back to my whole life before kids, I’d just like to feel in my skin the way I used to.  Comfortable.  Sassy.  Take-me-or-leave-me.  A little quirky and a little effortless and a little classy.

I don’t know where that woman is hiding, behind these eye bags and droopy flannels and stringy hair.  I really want to find her.  I forget sometimes that there are a good many people in my life who’ve NEVER MET HER.  Who didn’t know me before children.  I feel like they’re missing out.  I’m missing out.  My husband/ life partner/ best friend is missing out.  I’m missing out.

Let me tuck my mom stomach into  my high-waist-control-top leggings and do some yoga.  Maybe there I’ll find a little bit of her.

You Can’t Take it With You: Spending Money in my 30s

Juli

Spending money?
Say what?

spending money in my 30s

I’m usually all about saving money, but I think in some small ways I’m starting to change my tune.

I’ve been straight up miserly since childhood – I was the kid with several piggy banks stuffed full, who never spent my birthday money on anything.

I had so much cash that in high school I became the go-to friend for a loan.  And I didn’t mind at all.

In college, I rode a skateboard to work because I didn’t own a car. I stretched restaurant gift cards by ordering nothing but muffins and tea.  I made my friends all birthday cakes, with 88 cent mixes and a 50 cent can of soda.

When we first got married, I could make dinner for four adults with a single chicken breast and Knorr Pasta Side.  No exaggeration.

Pre-owned clothing.  Pre-owned furniture.  Flipping a house.  Craigslisting.  Putting off car repairs.  You name it, we do it super frugally.

But today, I spent $30 on Christmas wrapping supplies, and I realized something.

We have been so careful with our money, for so long, that we deserve to spend a little of it on making our lives easier.

My husband got a sort-of promotion this year (he went from teacher to principal, but not the fancy kind of well-paid principal) and so far we haven’t really taken advantage of that whatsoever.  We’ve been saving up for a big vacation next year for five years, and we have some home remodeling we’ve budgeted for, but our day-to-day spending remains super tight-fisted.

Until I stopped in the Christmas aisles of the store today, and bought the first wrapping paper I liked, and the fancy name tags, and the nice ribbon.  Most years, I wait until I can get to the bigger store (an hour away) with the BIG rolls of INEXPENSIVE wrapping paper, and spend hours DIYing decorations and tags for the packages.  It takes forever.  I enjoy it at the beginning but then it majorly stresses me out.  So this year, I just paid for the fancy stuff right now, in early November, and can leisurely wrap my presents at will.

Definitely worth $30.

There are other things I’ve recently decided are worth the money or cupboard space after years of refusing them.

A griddle.  I always felt like owning an electric griddle was a kitchen-space extravagance; after all, can’t I just use a pan on the stove.
But I’ve got a pretty large family now, and making pancakes two at a time in a pan was taking more time than it was worth.  I asked for a griddle as a gift (a practical one – it flips over to become an indoor grill) and have used it multiple times already in only a couple weeks.

Good pens.  Sure, I could stick it out with the free or very-inexpensive ballpoint pens, but I do a lot of handwriting and every single time I touch a ballpoint to paper I’m irritated.  (I have a problem.)  Flair pens, always, regardless of the extra $.

Better hangers.  YEARS of slipping clothes, followed by years of breaking hangers, and I’ve finally landed on all-one-piece metal hangers coated in something.  Worth the extra.
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Essentially, if I use it every day and it’s not too extravagant, or if it will save me serious stress and effort, it has become worth it to me.  After all, I’ve spent 25 years being careful with my money – and you can’t take it with you.