a letter to a girl who's not me

This is a letter to a girl who is not me. She is not me because I am going to say to her all the things I cannot say to myself. This is a girl who has 3 kids or 1 kid or 6 kids or no kids.

You are wonderfully imperfect and beautifully created. You look in the mirror and you see where your jeans don't fit you like the mannequin in the store, or your shirt pulls a little too tight where you'd like it to fall loose. You look in the mirror and see the things you don't love about yourself. You look in the magazine or on the tv or on the computer or out your front window and see images of women who are more perfect than you. You read on a blog or in a Christian self-help book or in an article about a Hollywood actress about how to lose weight so other people will like you better.

Well they won't like you better when your jeans fit like a mannequin, because they love you now. They love your smile and how you laugh at awkward things. They love your passion about life and your quirky perspective. They love to share life with you when you are sad or happy or angry or tired.

So, damn Hollywood and all the pictures they put into your head about what it means to be a woman. Damn the articles about the Hollywood actress who "takes time for herself" to work out and eat right everyday, when that day includes leaving the kids with a well-paid nanny and going to drink her green juice and spending 3 hours with her personal trainer. Damn the tabloids who take unflattering pictures of famous women on the beach in order to make fun of them and in the process make fun of you.

You are wonderfully imperfect and beautifully created. Go ahead and run 5 miles and then congratulate yourself for the amazing things your body can do. Do not let the Hollywood messages about perfection let you judge yourself or anyone else by a standard we cannot meet. You are fiercely loved and uniquely gifted. You were not put on this earth to be a picture in a magazine. You were put on this earth to change it. Now go do it.

mom jeans and flash mobs

I'm nearing the end of nursing Eli (oh thank you Lord) and I'm just trying to wean him slowly like you're supposed to do (even though I want to just give up right now, today). Some people just love breastfeeding and look back on it fondly for the rest of their lives. That's totally fine and I really respect those people. But I am not one of them. It doesn't make me absolutely miserable or anything...I'm just really ready to have my body back to myself. Over the past 5 years, I have been pregnant or nursing for all but 3 of those months. It might sound super selfish to want to be done nursing...but that is how I feel. So I am down to only feeding Eli twice a day (once in the morning, and once before bed at night). Over the next 4 weeks I will finish completely (and Eli will be turning 1!!) My body just doesn't completely go back to normal until I have completely weaned. It's not like that for everyone, but I have definitely noticed that trend in myself.

Anyway- yay for being almost done!! And just in time for my 30th birthday (on Aug. 22)! Thirty is such a weird number in my brain. I've always had an idea of what 30 would look like...and it certainly is not what I was thinking. I just don't really feel grown up like 30 seems to represent. I mean...in a lot of ways...my life is very "grown up." But I'm not one of those people who frown on joking about bodily functions, I don't feel like it's time to start wearing mom jeans, I absolutely frown on the idea that "you're a mom now so you should...(not care about how you look...not joke this way...etc...fill in the blank)." In fact, Chad and I have a really silly sense of humor, I make up songs about food, sometimes I imagine screaming cuss words at inappropriate times, sometimes I imagine doing a one-man flash mob dance in the middle of Target, and sometimes I let my kids wear their pjs all day and then go to bed in them again. And I sing love songs to my kitchen aid mixer. I'm not saying that 30 has to look like all of those negative things I mentioned (I know it doesn't...cause I know plenty of people who have turned 30), I'm just saying I had a picture in my mind from when I was a teenager...and that picture does not match up with reality. Ah...I mean, I think maybe I'm just never going to really "feel" grown up or old like I think it's supposed to feel. I have a feeling that, when I turn 40, I'm still going to be making up songs about food and imagining screaming cuss words at inappropriate times. And I hope I still won't be wearing mom jeans. I think Chad and I will still be having a blast jumping on trampolines at sky zone and laughing about "immature things" and I still won't feel grown up. It's cool...I'm sure my kids will think I'm old.