This is No Longer a Rant

"Hi, T, this is K, the principal of Pumpkin's school. As you know, the Ministry is enforcing blah blah blah, and now that we have an issue at the school due to blah blah blah, all the jr. kindergarten students in Pumpkin's class are being redistributed to the other JK classes. Consequently, we'll be changing Pumpkin from a Tuesday/Thursday class to a Monday/Wednesday one."

"Sure, no problem! I'll just pull Pumpkin out of her Monday and Wednesday morning preschool since they have a waiting list and won't be able to move us to Tuesday and Thursday, and I'll cancel her Wednesday afternoon swim lesson that she isn't completely fond of anyways. I love the idea of having nothing scheduled for her for four and sometimes five days per week. It will give us so much more time to bond!"

(commence banging head on wall)

Some time over the course of the next four hours, one of the confirmed Tuesday/Thursday parents called the school and asked to be switched to Monday/Wednesday. As you can imagine, I opted to swap, and promptly started humping the leg of the other parent.

As if My Bragging About My Body Wasn't Enough...

If my last post was me taking one for the team, this one is certainly a product of inspiration. Today...I found love. It was in the form of a retail affair, but I know the real deal when it hits me. Had I done this post about eight hours ago, I would be gushing about my shopping high, and praising the universe for delivering me to such a perfect store, but since then, a dentist has drilled my face, and my kids took up whatever enthusiasm I had left. So I'm back to being me. Nonetheless, it was the best hour of shopping in my entire life.

As a general rule, if I find something that actually fits me well, I buy it without hesitation. This is because I don't get a lot of shopping opportunity sans kids, and because my short torso makes me somewhat difficult to find clothes for. If I had an actual calculated shopping budget, I would never get close to maxing it out. I'm just a bad shopper. When I do get in the shopping mood, I try on zillions of things, usually to return home with maybe one or two. Today I attacked this never before visited store and pulled about ten things into the change room. Everything fit! Everything! I got excited. REALLY excited. I had to have it ALL! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

I worried a bit about justifying it, seeing as I don't actually earn money or anything, but I was able to work it out well enough. You see, hubby doesn't buy himself a lot of clothing, or typical things that people pamper themselves with, but he did recently buy a Cylon, or something as obscure from a Battlestar Galactica auction, and a few other things that are still in boxes and making me a bit nervous. This is kind of the equivalent of the Cylon, right? I figured I'd at least call him and let him know: "Hi baby. I'm at this store that was MADE for me, and there are so many things that I LOVE, so I figured I could scoop 'em all up for my birthday and save you the stressful shopping trip you'd eventually have to make". I heard him smile, and that was all I needed. Guess I'll be taking one for the team again tonight, eh? God I'm such a cliche!

Daily Affirmation

Wow, blogging is starting to remind me of marital sex. The less I do, the less I want to do. Sometimes to get the ball rolling again I am either struck with inspiration, or I end up taking one for the team. Well team, here I am.

Following in the footsteps of Danigirl, I finally decided to visit one of those fancy lingerie shops that I have always avoided due to being cheap, and due to fear of being cupped by a stranger. Buying bras is typically an unrewarding purchase for me. No one really sees them, and they tend to cost a heck of a lot when you can't fit the cutesy stuff at La Senza., I did figure that a fitting was in order since every post-baby woman who posts something on the topic always seems stunned to find out that her perceived 36Bs are actually 34Ds. I wasn't too far off. I traded in my old 34Ds for 32Ds, which is a good thing. Not only was there no cupping, and not only do I have less girth than originally thought, but I have now become bra sisters with my friend in Victoria. Hey friend in Victoria! I can hook you up with some good support the next time you visit! Truthfully, I would prefer to be your size 2 butt sister, although I'd like it to happen without all that marathony stuff that you do. I'll set that as my long term goal. The butt, not the marathon.

In all seriousness, I'm not looking to change shape. I am about to speak one of the most obnoxious things that you've ever heard a woman say. I'm kinda happy with my body. It's true! I'm not perfect in any way, shape, or form, but if I judge my body on a bell curve, I'm doing quite well!

I look pretty much the same as I did in high school, but I hated my body in those days. Back then, I wasn't very high up on the bell curve, but instead had a lot of curves of my own. My friends were all built like 10 year old boys with boobs. Me, not so much. I may have even been five pounds heavier than I am now. That doesn't sound like much, but it seemed to look like a lot. I believe that my brother can attest to this based on the "compliment" that he gave me recently. He said, "You know, you look really good! Based on how you looked when you were 17, I figured that your body would be a complete mess by this stage in life."

Hey ladies, in case you're looking, he's available....

Anyhow, now at age 36 with two kids, I'm feeling pretty good about the way I look. I hated my non flat stomach when I was younger, but now it's almost to be expected. Did you see what my stomach went through? And due to what I would call extremely rapid growth during puberty, I never had boobs that saluted the sun. Guess what! I still don't! But did you see what my rack went through? You probably didn't, but you can imagine, right? I'm sure that the average woman who endured the same has to hike her rack up a couple of notches higher than she used to as well. How about the dark circles under my eyes that were regarded with concern by teachers who were worried about my home life. Now that I am a mother of two, I'm supposed to have them! They've almost become something to brag about!

So there it is: I'm good enough; I'm smart enough; and gosh darn it, people like me. Sort of.