In an effort to get my kids to talk, every night before we all go to bed, I ask my kids to tell me 3 things that happened that day. Could be something that made them laugh, something they learned, or really just anything that they want to share. The only rule is that they can’t say “nothing.”
So with that in mind, I thought it would be fun to share with you 3 things I learned this week.
Number 1: I need a pedicure! Earlier this week I was doing “no-contact” sparring with my 11 year-old daughter, helping her prepare for her upcoming Taekwondo blackbelt graduation. In case you’re not familiar – no-contact sparring is when one person charges at the other while kicking/punching, as the other shuffles backwards until they run out of room, and then the other person goes. It is important for me to point out that the “no-contact” part of this kind of sparring means that there is actually no contact with each other.
Well, I got all excited when it was my turn and I accidently roundhouse kicked my daughter in the arm. If that wasn’t enough, I drew blood. Apparently I had caught her just right with my big toenail and cut her arm. Don’t worry, she’s fine…or as my Mom would say “She’ll live.” She’s pretty tough – she’s going to be a blackbelt afterall. But my toenails, apparently they could use some attention.
Number 2: Aluminum-free deodorant stinks! In an effort to be more health conscious and to ward off potential diseases, my husband and I decided to try Aluminum-Free deodorant. For the first week, I was a changed woman. I would sweat, even at the gym, and there was absolutely no smell. I even lifted my arm one night and asked my husband to attest to my findings (he’s a good man). No smell!
Then week 2 came, and something dramatically changed. When I lifted my arm it smelled like someone just took the lid off a tank at a wastewater treatment facility, and the only 100% protection I was getting was from anyone who wanted to come near me. To my credit, I did stick it out through week 3, thinking that maybe week 2 was just hormonal. Nope, no better. So I’ve threw in the towel (the same one I used after my long shower) for now.
Number 3: Gravity is my new reality. A few weeks ago, I bought a new dress for a weddding that my husband and I are going to this Friday night. The dress is SO cute, it shows off my favorite parts (arms & shoulders), and it’s not black. It isn’t something that I would normally pick, but I felt that is was fun and playful. I have always said, I may be a Mom and an Accountant, but I don’t want to dress like either one of them.
In hindsight, it was probably a little ambitious of me to think that I could actually pull off this dress. My guess is that I was either in the Juniors Department or the Cougar Department, neither of which I belong. Since I bought the dress, I have been feverishly on the hunt for a bra that would work, as the sides are cut in just enough to make it impossible to buy a regular strapless bra. I initially chose not to go with the sales woman’s suggestion to get one of those strapless/backless adhesive ones. For some reason, I suddenly got cheap and wanted a bra that I could wear again.
After about 3 weeks of looking in every department store and talking to many saleswomen about my dilemma, I finally caved and got the one I had been avoiding – the adhesive one. While I was waiting to pay, I looked at the box and then in the mirror and just smirked – I realized that I had nothing in common with the 6-foot, perky, tube-top wearing, 20-something avatar on the box, and that I wasn’t going to be as spectacular in this dress as I had hoped. The woman snapped me out of it long enough to take my credit card and finish the transaction.
So yesterday I tried on the “bra.” Hard to really call it a bra, it looks more like an eye mask, and had about the same amount of support. Instead of looking perky, my breasts just hung there with this flesh colored mask stuck to them. They suddenly looked longer, and it was if my nipples were racing each other and my waist was the finish line. How did my boobs get so long? When did this happen? I tried the dress on, as I thought maybe it would hide all that I was seeing, but it just made it worse. If the dress had a belt, I would have to go up a size to compensate for my breasts as they hung there sad and unsupported…sort of like how I was feeling at that moment.
So I did what any good woman would have done – I picked up my breasts, wiped my tears, and bought a new fabulous (and appropriate) dress! Who says you can’t defy gravity?