Yes...I can still find things to whine about HA!

As I mentioned before, I've recently lost 14 lbs and 2 inches from my waist. That doesn't mean though that I don't wake up every morning and repeat the same prayer I have said every day for the last 24 years while putting on my jeans...
Please fit, please fit, please fit..please o please zip up!

It is funny that I still say this. Because, at this point every pair of jeans in my closet fit. I can't help but wonder if I keep losing weight, if 20 lbs from now I will still be praying that my jeans pull up past my thighs just this once. It is weird to pull my jeans fresh out of the dryer and not have to do the shimmy hip shake just to wiggle my jeans up past my thighs. Will I always be a fat girl at heart?

Pros to losing weight:

  • My jeans fit.
  • My belt fits...and not just on the last belt hole.
  • I barely have a muffin top anymore (I had to explain to my husband last night what a muffin top was, complete with a demonstration and all, he laughed because "I can't believe you girls actually have a word for that" Pshaw, we have a word for everything!)
  • My boobs look great, since they don't compete for space with my belly
  • I don't have to plan my outfit around FAT pants anymore
  • I can dry my clothes on Extra Hot now and not worry about my jeans "shrinking" (because thats what happened, my jeans keep shrinking, its not that I'm getting fatter or anything, its just because I dried on high heat and shrunk em, right?)
Cons to losing weight:
  • After an hour, instead of your jeans relaxing to look perfect, they relax and get so saggy that you look like you grew a 10" dick and took a 30 pound shit in your pants and the hip section sags to bad it looks like you birthed 43 kids.
  • None of your pants actually fit, not even when you are bloated on your period
  • My shirts are all pretty much too big, so I look all weird and saggy now
  • My boobs shrunk, so now my bra does this weird thing where it kind of folds in half in the front since there is nothing to fill it
  • My glasses don't fit my face anymore since they are all stretched from Chubby Face Shannon
Ahhh. Isn't it just like me to find something to complain about even thought I'm losing weight? Things just wouldn't be right if I lost this much weight and had nothing at all to whine about right?

A post that never should have been

Yesterdays post. Sigh! I'm still not sure I was ready to write that. I'm not even sure I was ready to feel that. More then anything I feel bad that I got so serious. I mean I try and keep this site funny and witty and humorous and then I go get all deep on you. My goal is to be interesting enough to finally be noticed by Amalah and get a link on her page. Or even just a mention would make me happy since she is the goddess of all mommy blogs.

Another reason I'm not so sure about yesterdays post is, I'm not so sure I should be allowed to feel that way. I'm married. Doesn't that mean that I should never think of another man? Or is it okay that I still harbor feelings for "the one who once was?" Part of me is ashamed I've gone and admitted to you all that I secretly wonder what if. Part of me is afraid you will think I love my husband any less because I have these feelings for this other guy. That is not the case though. In fact it is the opposite. I love Rob even more knowing how things turned out. I love him more every day knowing he chooses to go to work every day to support Brandon and I rather then chasing empty dreams like the other guy would have. I love him more knowing he is there for his son rather then making him a burden. I love him more knowing that he comes home every night to me, and I never have to question if he will be there tomorrow. I think the other guy is just dreams of my past. Dreams of the girl I once was.

I used to be this other person. This girl who went out and did wild things. I had fun. I yelled and screamed and sang and danced and shouted at the moon. I dressed cool and did my hair and gave a shit. Guys looked at me and wanted me and chased me. I dated all the guys you wished you could date and then some. I was this amazing girl who actually did stuff. If I wanted to go, I went. If I wanted it, I found a way to get it. And now.

Now, I'm just someones mom and wife. Guys don't look at me anymore. No one chases me or yearns for my kiss. There are no more love notes from admirers on my car when I leave work. No more wild trips to California to make memories with some guy who was cute somewhere near exit 43. If I want something now, I rationalize the cost of it. I wonder if I really need it or if I can live with out it. If I want to go somewhere now, I usually don't because, really, I have a son and what kind of mom takes off and enjoys her life, while her husband is stuck at home watching their son. That is no way to be. Now, I'm just some girl dreaming over a love she once had, holding onto the little bit of youth left in her. I'm just some girl yearning to be on a bike ride with her best friend. Riding no where, with no purpose, no plan, no reason, just riding.

All of my friends read that post and thought it was so deep. But really, it was just me whining about what I no longer have. I talk shit about those moms who run around leaving their kids at home. Those moms who go to clubs at night while someone else sits at home with their child. Those moms who think of their kid as an accessory. All the while I'm sitting here dreaming that just for one day, I could be that girl again. That girl who went to a show, to see a boy, and have a drink, and make out behind the club. Just to be that free one more time.

Is that what happens to all of us? Do we all grow up and secretly dream of the person we once were? Or am I the only one who changed so much? Are other moms not dreaming this because they are still that person? I keep hoping some day that I can have a daughter. So I can watch her enjoy life like me. I can't wait to encourage her to date and play and go on road trips. Let her know it doesn't always have to be serious. Relationships don't always have to be meaningful. You don't always have to conform. It's okay to have a tattoo at 15 and dye your hair and try different clothes and try different guys. But I would let her know that she needs to cherish every second of her childhood and her teens. Because someday, shes going to grow up, and be a mom and she will sit there wishing she had all those times back.

And I guess, really, I would rather wish to have those times back, then to have never had them at all. I would rather know what its like to hurt over a lost love or 20 lost loves, then to never know at all, because I was so serious in school. Or because all I had were serious long term relationships. Maybe I didn't lose myself at all. Maybe all these memories are helping me find that girl. Maybe I got on my bike that day for a reason. Because that girl was back in my subconscious screaming out to me to go, ride, let my hair blow in the breeze. Go, for just a minute and be alone. Leave your son and your husband and ride away from it all. Just not to far. Just down the street. Just long enough to remember, that girl was there. She really existed.

My mom wrote this poem once, it started out,
"growing wild and running free, thats what they say about you and me.."

Only my version would be, "growing wild and running free, thats what they USED to say about you and me!"

But thats okay right? It's okay that I USED to be that girl? Its okay that I want to remember that boy and those feelings. Its okay to dream that had I chosen him I would be living this wild haphazard life. Its okay, because at the end of the day, I always come back to reality right? And, no matter what, I never forget that I made the right choice. I chose to settle down, and be the best wife I can be, and the best mom I can be. So in another 20 years I can look back and remember, all these times. And I can yearn for the days when my little boy was still little, and I can know, that in the end I made all the best choices for my son and my husband, and of course, I made all the best choices for me. And, I can go for a bike ride and remember that girl I was 40 years ago. I can laugh about her. I can be happy knowing at one point, I was her. At one point, I was growing wild and running free. Because in the end isn't that all that matters? Doesn't it only matter that you were once that person, that no matter what you were a person you loved?

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