9 Days

I have 9 days to lose 30 pounds, whiten my teeth, build sexy arm muscles, buy a funky pair of flattering jeans and still feed, care for and drive around my family.  I don’t think it can be done.  There was a time in June where I had 100 days for this mission and I felt a bit confident I could achieve it, only at that time, I had 50 pounds to lose.  You’d think by the math that would mean that I have already lost 20, but it actually means I have lowered my sights, although last week I had lost 14, but I seem to have put a few back on over the weekend. 

Why all the drama and stress?  For those of us who worry about these things, these symptoms are indicative of a few possible scenarios: Upcoming social engagement with last man to break our heart before we met Mr. Perfect-For-Us, upcoming social engagement with mean, pretty girl who more or less made us miserable during adolescence or our early twenties, high school reunion, high profile role in a wedding party.  My event has most of these rolled together…it is my 20th (yikes) university reunion!

Some of these people I saw 5 years ago at the 15th, but many of them I haven’t seen in 10 years, when I was 31 and looking considerably better than now.  I try and assure myself that everyone is now in their yearly 40’s, but have you taken a good look at some of the women in their forties in your neighbourhood? They look better than they did in their twenties!

Now that previous paragraph makes it sound like I am obsessed about appearance and have not evolved enough to know that who we are is much more than body shape or size. I do know better, but when I like what I see in the mirror, I feel more confident and that is what I’d like to take to homecoming, confidence.

The weekend will be rife with boys I loved, or obsessed over, women I loved, women I feared and by whom I was intimidated and men and women who were my good friends with whom I’ve lost touch. The e-mail traffic has started to escalate with people picking right back up on the same banter we left in Kingston 20 years ago.  The shots that are flying at me indicate everyone expects I am the same person I was then.  Most of me hopes so, but part of me is quite happy to say good-bye to little miss insecurity. These are people who knew me before kids, before careers, before husband…at a time when most of the repercussions for bad behaviour could be cured with Advil, an Egg McMuffin and Bloody Caesars.

I think I was my most fun self then.  Probably many of us were. Risks were easier, sleep unnecessary and a new adventure was right around the corner.  Lately I’ve been wondering where that girl went. I am tired, busy and trying to impose some sense of order on my chaos that no one else in my family wants anything to do with.  I’ll probably do some unhealthy crash diet this week…who’s kidding who, I’ve already started…pull everything in and out of my closet a hundred times.  My family will probably not get my full attention as I fade off down memory lane every so often and wonder what if. They’ll most likely be relieved that I am preoccupied, it’ll give them all a little more space. And I can spend some time with the girl I used to be and try to figure out how some of her can come back.

While I do all that, I have a task for you guys. I need some input for this week’s letter of the alphabet.  We’re working on ‘D’…please send in any great mommy adjectives or ideas that begin with ‘d’. Thanks! 🙂