The snow melted away, the trees started dropping polen like bombs, the birdies come chirping into our backyard... all is good. It even smells nice again. Time to get rid of the snow jackets. scarves, hats and other props But wait, what is this? my clothes became ugly, oh wait, it is not the clothes, it is me! The winter did not, I repeat, did not melt away the extra meat I carry around. Whhhhhyyyyyyyy?!!! This weekend was freaking cold, I am sure I used up a lot of calories. And I wasn't that hungry, I did not over eat, and I did not look like a badly wrapped sausage during the fall and winter...and I do now... I guess what happened is that I look better with more clothes. No wonder there used to be those ads saying "look better without clothes". They know. They know that about 90% of us (wild guess) look better with clothes. And those that don't are because they devote a lot of time to having a nice looking naked body, or because they are genetically predisposed to look like that. I am neither, however, I do appreciate being in an able body, do not misread me as being ungrateful. My legs carry me places, my arms help me hug, my belly button is a safe place for my children (don't ask!) I am just shocked, not sure why, but I am shocked again at the fact that nothing happens when you do nothing. That there is no magic. I guess for those of us that do not have the benefit airbrusing, reality is just that, reality. I wish I could say "I love the silvery lines of my stretchmarks" that "they are the embodyment of the triumph that motherhood is" but no. I got most of those stretchmarks when I was a teenager.
So, given the amount of "problems" with my body (note that I use problems in a very, very superficial and light manner, in the same fashion as beauty magazines do, not in the poverty and ignorance kind of problems) I am starting to think that wearing burkas might not be such a bad idea after all.
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