Doing The Thing While The Cinnamon Rolls Are Baking

Death is a part of life. Every living thing dies. Eventually the thread of your life will be cut. This is on my mind because my father is in southern Illinois waiting for his own mother to pass.

Something else has been on my mind lately. And I would greatly appreciate your feedback.

I am ALL for the body positivity movement. All bodies are good bodies. Love yourself as you are, not how society says you should look/be. Even supermodels and the Kardashians don't look how they look on social media or print.

I get that.

However.

My mother. Who taught me valuable lessons and who fundamentally shaped who I am today (duh). She was morbidly obese for most of my lifetime. I didn't play and run outside with my parents. (my father had polio as a child)

I watched her lose weight and gain it back. I watched her go through the harrowing process of weight loss surgery (Lap Band).

I watched her health decline. I watched her as she eventually lost the ability to walk. I've read her journals and I know how she struggled. I saw for my ENTIRE LIFE how she struggled to do simple things. Sit at a restaurant (table only, no booths). Get out of bed. Get dressed. Get into and out of a car. Walk up the two steps into my house the ONE time she was able to come here before she became bedridden.

I am groin-grabbingly terrified this will happen to me. I am currently the heaviest I have ever been . I'm on Weight Watchers. I walk whenever I can. I am trying to accept my body as it is NOW because I CAN get out of bed/into and out of the car/upstairs. I am trying to be grateful and loving towards myself.  But there is a part of me that sees my mother. In the stretch marks and cellulite.  And it scares me because I don't want to end the way she did. It is my nightmare. It is what brings tears to my eyes when I spend more than a nanosecond in contemplation.

(my grandmother just passed away as I wrote this)

FUCK.

Good Morning

It is 7:17 on the morning of May 4th. May the 4th be with you. I guess. I think that's weird. Lispy. Sort of funny.

look at me exercising my brain by typing sentences.

I've been reading a LOT of Shirley Jackson lately. Margaret Atwood too. Jackson's short stories are a treasure to be found. One Ordinary Day, With Peanuts is my favorite. 

The last book I read was The Blind Assassin by Atwood. She included several passages that brought me to tears with recognition. I highly recommend and will share once I find the page I gently dogeared.

(call to the eldest child to make sure he is dressed for the day. turn on the sound of my phone for the youngest child. minor interruptions. )

We have been on a purge. of junk, things accumulated over the years. We have recently had our hardwood floors refinished, and more hardwood installed. It is glorious. Dark stain.

We have recently been gifted a generous amount of home goods from my outstanding in-laws. Pottery Barn outlet wins every time. My mother in law is better at finding deals than yours is.

Place a rug. Water the plants. Sweep the floor. Dishes in the dishwasher. Wipe the counter. Read a book. Watch RuPaul's Drag Race. Bake cookies. Make dinner. Be creative.


This is what I have. I made these sentences. And the only person who can in-make them is me.

On grief

i have a feeling this will be a recurring theme.

Dear mom,

I wish I knew what you were saying to me with those final breaths. I know what I said to you. Did you hear me? Did you hear me tell you that we would be okay? It is very important to me to know that you heard me. I know I told you we would be fine and that your job was finished. But that was a lie. If I could have just one more day. I would make you the salad you asked me to make you and I never did. I would have asked you more about grandpa. I would have apologized again. Mom. Your job wasn't done. I lied. I'm not okay. Sometimes I am, but the. There are other times that it physically hurts me. My heart is hurt.

I miss you.