Our Year Of Living (Beautifully) Without WalMart

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

itty bitty baby clothes....

"If I weren't so good at choosing baby clothes, this wouldn't be happening...." keeps running through my mind. I have spent the past couple days washing and hanging dry my store of "heirloom baby clothes" (that is how I label the boxes, but it is more like a wistful squeal/whimper that says "i cannot get rid of these, they are the tiny remaining shards of my little beeboos' essences!!") all smooshed-together-like.

I am glad to have three children, and I am glad to have my IUD. But I hunger and thirst for a fourth. I always wanted four children, two boys and two girls, like the Boxcar Children, like the Bobsey Twins, like two-of-each. I have three and that is wonderful, but my brain stews up dreams of my fourth....of my Other Girl. I have a light boy and a dark boy and a light girl and a ....blank. A little ghostly dark-haired girl who doesn't exist.

There are two (going on three, kinda four... ok five) dragons that would need slain for that to ever happen.

The first and biggest is the MONEY dragon. We are tooooo *poor* for the ones we have now. We buy second hand, we lots of times struggle to provide cereal and milk (and football cleats, and field trip 5dollar bills out of nowhere, etc etc etc) for the ones we have. We have clothes galore (as I have said, I am GOOD at clothes....i buy lots and i buy them cheap and I buy them woolen/lasting/vintage) we have toys, and all sorts of other worldly possessions, and we have more love in this house than any other I have ever experienced....we just lack money. (If I could just *budget*....if I could just be more *Frugal*.....if I were just not sooo tired and didn't buy fast food AGAIN....etc etc etc)

The second dragon is the POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION dragon. I have had three bouts of PPD now. The third being by far the longest-lasting and worst. I think it was the compounded two pregnancies in a year/bobby's death that made it so terrible, but either way, Bella is now 5 and through medication I think I can say that I am over it, for the most part....(it was/is that bad) To have another baby would be to volunteer myself, and more importantly everyone in this house, to suffer through that. Big, Ugly, Cloudy dragon, that.

The going on third dragon is OLD AGE. I am 37 now. I am getting up there. It's getting dicey and unsafe, it feels like...

The kinda fourth is COLLEGE. I am going into my fourth year of my two-year degree(s---i am doubling associates) It would be rather more difficult to go to school with a wee one. Could I do it? Maybe, I dunno. I don't ponder that often. Tandem with that is the CAREER dragon...I already don't know what I want to be when I grow up, in the midst of going to school for whatever it is.... But i GOTTA be SOMETHING....I imagine a baby might complicate that....

The fifth is the biggest (for me---even bigger than the MONEY) it is THE WEIGHT. I am very very too big to be going and getting pregnant right now. That would be bad. So, that is the big one....

(I would add a sixth, and that is the MY MOM HAD THREE KIDS- - - teens and a Little (me) and then had TWINS dragon).... but that is mere superstition... (or is it??!!!) either way it is a good preventative. (even though wouldn't that be sooo cuuuuuute....(ugh...sigh... ugh)

SO, here I am hang-drying and storing, and sighing, and wistfull-ing..... and now maybe so are you... sorry .

Saturday, May 4, 2013


There is a word in German, "kummerspeck", that translates to "grief bacon".  The definition is "Weight that comes from emotional/sadness/grief eating". I learned that word about a year and a half ago. It has marinated since then in a stew of anti-depressant and pepsi cola.

I have been obsessed with obesity for most of my life. My parents were both big people. Each nearly 6 feet tall, my father with a BIG ole belly, my mother was just pillowy, I thought. Both were the biggest parents of my peers, for sure. It wasn't until last year, when my 13 year old son reached 6 feet tall and towered over me, that I realized I am short (5'5") But I weigh more than a 6 foot tall person should. A lot more. 

I weigh a lot. I weigh very close to 300 pounds. That was two years ago. I likely weigh more now. I am incredibly uncomfortable in my body, to put it mildly. I am OBSESSED with my obesity, to underexaggerate.

My kummerspeck resides mostly in my belly, rump, thighs, under my upper arms, and the saddlebag double chin that weighs on my voicebox. (I also have back fat, cankles, and fat/big everything else....)

 Never a very active person,  (I did swim team and softball-poorly until 8th grade and marching band through high school) I am now almost completely sedentary. I often wonder how my life would've been different if I'd been a sportswoman and not a reader.

My fat = my misery. My fat = my self-indulgence.  My fat  =  my self-pity.  My fat =  my messiness. My fat =  my bipolar.  My fat =  my clutter.   My fat =  my overthinking. My fat = my soooooooooooooooooooooooo much.  

So much kummerspeck. 

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

"This is the lass / with hair like a nest / who walked in her sleep / on the morn of Mayfest." 
                                This was my campus this morning, Beltane morning.  It is Finals time. 
                                                       I am still procrastinating......

Monday, April 29, 2013

Taking the summmer off of school.... Hoping to do quite a bit of innerwork.... Thought I would prepare this space for that.....