I just want to express my disappointment with being 43.
I want to express my disappointment that unless I eat quite a bit less than 1200 calories a day, I gain weight.
I want to express my disappointment that while I understand intellectually that at 43, I am not supposed to look like a 21 year old, I live in a place where most of the women do. Is it right that most of the moms here wear clothes that are smaller than a size 6? I guess it is right, since that is how it is, but why do they all have to be so cute and well-dressed and teeny? (What is worse is that I adore them and love them and think they are super fun. And they are also super teeny. And super awesome. And super teeny.)
I want to express my disappointment in myself that even though I read wonderful, life affirming things about self acceptance and loving ourselves where we are and not comparing ourselves to others, and even though I try to write in my gratitude journal as many times a week as I remember to sit down and do it, I still hate that I am too chubby for all of my clothes except for my fat pants: the "skinny" jeans that I have worn so often that the thighs are threadbare and about to burst. And even the fat pants are getting a little snug.
I want to express my disappointment that I feel like mourning the lack of food in my life when I am trying to be good and that I feel so much self loathing when I give in to cravings.
I want to express my disappointment that I am 43 and STILL HAVING ISSUES WITH ALL OF THIS GARBAGE. Because obviously I am too old for it. And should be too wise for it. But am somehow not.
Are these my two options now?
Number one: accepting my pleasantly plump self and enjoying food and buying clothes in bigger sizes?
Or number two: accepting that any foods besides vegetables, (limited (!)) fruits (WHY DO FRUITS EVEN HAVE TO BE LIMITED!!!!!????? AGE, you SUCK!), and lean proteins and I will never be truly good friends again so that I can regain my wardrobe? Because these fat pants are on their last legs (literally) and my drawer is full of pants that say "You were just wearing me last spring. Stop eating cookies."
I hate that this is on my mind all the time. I would like to solve world hunger issues or write my pretty little picture posts or read a good book (but then I would have to admit to my dilemma about how guilty I feel when I read a book now. Because of wasting time. Sigh.) There is much room in my head apparently for healthier thoughts. (Maybe I should sleep more so I can be more happy. Except that's another problem: I know I should sleep more, but I never, ever, ever, ever do.)
The only thing that makes me feel the littlest bit better is that I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in my frustrations. If anyone has really figured out how to live life happily and peacefully and be able to get rid of these judging voices in your head, pass on your wisdom. I could use it. Because I really don't know if the right thing is to learn self control or to choose acceptance. Shouldn't I be more in control? But shouldn't it be ok to eat a peanut butter sandwich on wheat bread?
(Plus a cookie?)
Saturday, February 7, 2015
My kids chose to go to the opera on a Saturday night. With each other. And had interesting things to say about it afterwards. (And looked SO CUTE.) (Sorry. I got carried away.)
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
I made a New Year's deal with my students. If I don't meet my practice goal every week, I pay anyone who beat my actual practice time $5 cold, hard cash.
It's so amazing how much motivation that gives me.
And so sad that it takes motivation to get me to the keyboard.
Because once I'm there, it's just SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO awesome.
I'm working on two Liszt transcriptions of Schubert songs, Beethoven, Ravel, Rachmaninoff, and Bach. And that's all. Except technique, improv, and sightreading.
Yes, I need to narrow it down, but it's all so dang fun. So maybe I'll just keep practicing too many pieces and enjoy myself every minute.
My teenage daughter loves me dearly but does not love me posting pictures of her without her prior permission. She is not likely to give permission for this one, but it warms my Mama heart. Seriously. Is anything cuter than my girls harmonizing during Family Night? The answer is baby pandas. But other than that (and, well, puppies,) Sophie and Kate and a guitar get my vote.
If I was REALLY brave (and stupid,) I would post a video of them singing. Because that beats pandas, puppies, otters, AND kittens. But I value my life, so you will have to just imagine.
I'm ashamed to admit that it took some manipulation on my part, but I convinced the family to put away Christmas. I helped. I really did. But I was pretty lame at it.
I love how David can Tetris together the Christmas boxes in the empty area in our storage room. He has a gift.