Things have been hectic around here lately. The school year is just about wrapped up, and we're now making plans for Kai's birthday party. We've been working out in the God-forsaken yard, trying to make it look somewhat presentable, which means I've had less time to while away here at the computer.
On top of all this daily excitement, Tim goes in this coming Wednesday for surgery on a herniated disc. Can I just tell you that as much as I love my husband, I absolutely hate it when he is sick. I know that back surgery will not be a walk in the park by any means, but even with something as minor as a cold, he is very high maintenance. I pray that it all goes well in surgery and he comes home quickly. I think the most stressful part of all of this (well, for me anyway) will be that his mom will be staying at our house for a few days. I hope that she will more of a help than a hindrance, but I know that more likely than not, she and Tim will have some sort of blow up and she'll leave our home in a huff.
In other news around the casa, I subjected myself to a great indignity last night. I went swimsuit shopping. I don't care what size you are, I don't know of a single woman that gets excited about buying a swimsuit. I am still trying to understand (and probably never will) our culture's obsession with thin=beautiful. Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy with my current weight, and it's a daily struggle to try to maintain both a healthy diet and a healthy attitude. Why can't we be obsessed with healthy= beautiful? Does every woman in the world need to be a size 2 in order to be considered intelligent, sexy, ambitious? I don't think so. I'm far from perfect; my thighs scare young children and my stomach isn't just a muffin top in a pair of jeans that are too snug in the waist, it's an entire wedding cake. I realized earlier today that my two favorite features of my body are the two smallest; my eyebrows and my toenails. My toenails rock! But seriously, why can't we be more accepting of who we are right now? I sometimes feel like I'm holding myself back from happiness; I'll only be happy if I lose weight or look a certain way.
I get jealous when I see other women who are dealing with weight issues, yet they seem not to let it get in the way of them living their lives. They go out and they live their lives and they don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. I wish I could be like them. I don't think it's that I care so much what anyone else thinks, it's that I get so wrapped up in worrying about what I think. I don't know. It's late, and I'm starting to ramble.
At any rate, I picked out a swimsuit (black one piece, like always) and I'll wear it this Monday when we go to the pool. And maybe, just maybe, I can work up the courage to take off the cover-up and jump in. At least my toes will look good- I'm doing a pedi tomorrow!