Anytime I can post a terrible picture of myself…
So the bottom line is that I have no clothes that fit me. I understand that I am very lucky to have this problem in the sense that it means I’m losing weight. But I’m not done and I don’t want to buy clothes until I am. Leaving me with little to nothing to wear. My spandex workout gear is even too big. Tonight I went to my girlfriend’s house to split plants (meaning she split them and I got to take them…VERY grateful!). It’s chilly out, in the low 50s, so I couldn’t throw on a tank top. I rummaged through my old t-shirt drawer and everything was a way too-big event t-shirt from walks, races, and/or charity events. Except this one. I wore this shirt my freshman year of high school. And guess what…it was a little roomy too.
Is it sad that I was so excited to put this shirt back into rotation I could hardly stand it? And that when I texted a picture to my husband, who was sitting in class, I’m pretty sure he started divorce proceedings on legalzoom.com?
So speaking of losing weight? As of today I’ve lost 25 pounds and I can’t tell you how great that feels. I’ve had a rocky couple of weeks but, as my friends and I often say, a day (or week…or weeks) does not a diet break. Thank goodness for that, eh?
This morning I decided to do something crazy…I’m cutting my hair. What you can’t see in the above picture is that my hair has reached a length that, unless I do it just so, also appears to be from 1990. It’s dry, and heavy, and no matter what layers or trims I get, I think I might look like a cougar trying to find a pool boy to date. One who doesn’t mind my 21 year-old t-shirt. It’s time for a change. Several days ago I was looking for a picture to send to my hair girl of the color I’d like for fall. I typically add some darker blonde colors…strawberry, caramel, and honey…for the colder months. I found the perfect color and it happened to be on a really fabulous short hairstyle. I mulled it over, polled my girlfriends, and decided to go for it. Monday is the day. And if I’m really brave I’ll post a picture. It can’t be worse than the one above, right?
My oldest little girl turned NINE. We celebrated with her little friends last Saturday, and with each other on Tuesday, and she had the loveliest birthday a nine-year-old could hope for. In a mere two weeks our littlest little girl turns eight and I will once again be reflecting on how quickly the time is going. I’m going to need to find a way to stop or slow down time. Because this is unacceptable. These little girls are sprinting towards their teen years. And now you’ll have to excuse me as I have a panic attack.
For years I’ve wanted our little girls to participate in Girl Scouts. I was a Girl Scout and I remember it so fondly. Whether it was going door to door to sell cookies, or working my tail off to get badges, I just loved it. When we received a flyer for a Girl Scout Open House I was all over it. Now…I know myself well enough that I put some good thought into what I was and was not willing to do prior to going to the event. I went into that open house knowing I would not, under any circumstances, be a troop leader. Or, God forbid, a Cookie Mom. Yes…well…those Girl Scout recruiters? They are no joke. For the record, I have been a professional fundraiser for years. I’ve played with the big boys when it comes to fundraising and volunteer recruitment. So you’ll understand that when I walked into a local church and saw women in mom jeans and socks with sandals?
I wasn’t concerned. Sure wasn’t.
And then they had a little girl announce the little girl color guard. And I wondered “how do children these days learn that you’re supposed to stand up when a flag passes you if not for Scouts?” I should have known then that I was in trouble. They continued with a demonstration, also featuring impossibly cute little girls, that basically boiled down to the fact that I have a mere five years left with my little girls before they leave me for their friends and never turn back. Again…panic attack anyone? Needless to say…I am not only a troop leader for one of them, but in order to have it work for our schedule, this stupid broad (me) might be a troop leader for TWO Girl Scout troops. Because I’m a glutton for punishment and clearly don’t value sanity. Well played Girl Scouts. Well played indeed.
And finally, there is magic swirling around us. I really think so. Nothing concrete has happened, but I feel some exciting changes coming our way, and I feel like it’s right on the edge of our reality. I cannot wait to see what the next few weeks bring!
TODAY: What if a week that includes my freshman year cheerleading t-shirt, donated plants, too-big clothing, a fabulous little girl birthday, a new volunteer gig, and possible future magic makes for one of the best weeks ever?