Crash, Burn and Rise from the ashes
Well, the lack of sleep and post-partum hormones resulted in whole sleeves of Oreos being consumed in a sitting, much snitching of cookie dough mindless snacking.
This is not fabulous. I've lost sight of who I want to be.
Forget calories and dress sizes, I want to be the kind of woman who can come face to face with a pan of brownies and just eat one. I want strength, grit and gumption. I want to choose what goes into my mouth rather than have my habits choose for me. I want to savor food rather than taking the garbage disposal approach.
Fabulous means being the leading lady not the quirky best friend or sidekick. I need to channel Irene Dunn, Barbra Stanwyck, Rosalind Russell, Katherine Hepburn, Sarrah Rafferty, Sandra Bullock ... I mean, I am married to the ultimate leading man (think Cary Grant meets Jimmy Stewart with a hint of John Wayne) and I want to make him proud as much as I want to make me proud. This mountain mama wants a touch of the great and the glamorous.
Of course that will come slowly. But come it will.
Now, I am going to bypass the Oreos and go grab an apple.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Day 1
The Trouble With Ducks
I don't know what your ducks are like, but mine never stay in a row. This blog has been on my mind for a long time, but things kept bumping my ducks out of order - birthday parties, pregnancy, job changes, my husband bringing home nine chickens - the timing was just never perfect.
Well, forget perfect. I am going for fabulous.
"Fabulous?!" The practical voice in my head is screaming. "You just had a baby six days ago, your house is a wreck, your body is not much better, you aren't sleeping and and you think this is the time to start pursuing the path to fabulousness?" "Yep," I say back "this is the right time."
Welcome to my breed of crazy.
You see, I need fabulous right now. I need to find it in the whirlpool of diapers, laundry and 3 a.m. feedings that are my life. I need to find it in the puffy, pale bedraggled person who looks back at me from the mirror.
So, while three of my "ducks" are with grandma and the fourth is asleep, I am going to make my first stab at fabulous. Fabulous should always begin with a shower.
(1 hour, 1 feeding session and 1 poopy diaper later)
A long hot shower, a delicious new body wash, shaved legs and I am feeling much closer to fabulous.
I don't know what your ducks are like, but mine never stay in a row. This blog has been on my mind for a long time, but things kept bumping my ducks out of order - birthday parties, pregnancy, job changes, my husband bringing home nine chickens - the timing was just never perfect.
Well, forget perfect. I am going for fabulous.
"Fabulous?!" The practical voice in my head is screaming. "You just had a baby six days ago, your house is a wreck, your body is not much better, you aren't sleeping and and you think this is the time to start pursuing the path to fabulousness?" "Yep," I say back "this is the right time."
Welcome to my breed of crazy.
You see, I need fabulous right now. I need to find it in the whirlpool of diapers, laundry and 3 a.m. feedings that are my life. I need to find it in the puffy, pale bedraggled person who looks back at me from the mirror.
So, while three of my "ducks" are with grandma and the fourth is asleep, I am going to make my first stab at fabulous. Fabulous should always begin with a shower.
(1 hour, 1 feeding session and 1 poopy diaper later)
A long hot shower, a delicious new body wash, shaved legs and I am feeling much closer to fabulous.
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