all sorts of ugh

I know there is disease, terror, hardship, poverty, war, abuse, exploitation, neglect, famine, and all sorts of horror in the world. Even typing that acknowledgment makes me feel extra small for what I am about to complain about. But on this blog I am trying the best I can to honestly portray the good, bad and ugly about my life for my primary audience: my children, grandchildren and descendents in general. Also, of course, my mom and grandma. (Hi, Mom and Grandma! It was wonderful talking to you yesterday!!) But I think every day about how connectedness with those who went before me strengthens me, and I want my children and descendents to find strength in our shared experiences and struggles.

I sincerely hope none of my daughter descendents come out with the self-image and weight issues I have, but if they do, at least they’ll know they weren’t alone. I have been sick and unable to work out for about a week, and in that week I have gained so much weight it is simply depressing. I wish my world would not shrink to the size of my expanded waistline when there are so many other important things to care about or do, but the truth is, at times like these, my weight just gets me down.

Also, today was a cleaning day, so I didn’t shower or put on a bra or brush my hair for most of the day. Lydia spent hours in front of Elmo while I lay in bed reading and sleeping and giving myself pep talks so I could get to all the cleaning that needed to happen.

This evening we were invited to Fleur’s one-year birthday party, and since Anique is so free-spirited and kind, I figured I could just go as is–without a bra, without having brushed my hair, and in the clothes I slept in the night before. As we pulled up to her house, I saw a woman walking toward her door in–no joke–high heels and earrings so sparkly I could see them across the street in the dark. At times like that, I really hate living in Utah. The emphasis on appearance here makes me totally crazy (one infamous example I cannot erase from memory: on the free day at the zoo, I saw numerous stay-at-home moms dressed like they thought they were going shopping in New York City. I was dumbfounded and slightly a lot judgmental. I need to be a better disciple.) I could understand this kind of emphasis if we lived on the East Coast or even a major metropolis, but please, people. This is the Rocky Mountain West. And that was a zoo.

Or maybe I’m just mad and jealous because the extra thirty pounds I’m carrying around means I can’t dress like that. Who knows? I don’t, but I do know that when I saw Exhibit A walking to the door, I did the cowardly thing and went back home to change. At the end of the day, it probably was more considerate to pretend I hadn’t been cleaning toilets all day. Although I still forgot to brush my hair.

Oh, and the hypochondriac in me is now sure I have Crohn’s Disease. I am calling my physician sister-in-law tomorrow because I’m sure Instacare would do me no good. So I guess today was just that kind of day.

I clearly didn’t bother to brush Lydia’s hair today, either. Here’s my little Bellatrix LeStrange: