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Posts Tagged ‘beauty’

As all the mothers who read this blog will know, your belly is just never the same once your precious little one stretches it out.  And if you can’t relate because your belly is now the same as it was pre-pregnancy, I hate you.

So I’ll tell you about my belly.  It is not the same as it was before, although it is much improved in the last year.  I’m pretty sure, though, that my belly will never be flat again (unless of course I decided to dedicate hours every day to working out my core; that is just not going to happen).  I’m more than a little self-conscious about my stomach’s appearance, which would explain my heavy investment in Spanx.  My favorite is the higher power line, in case you were wondering.  (They make maternity Spanx, though I’m not sure why you would want to wear them.)

Anyways, I worry about my belly, I obsess a little about it, I do my best to conceal it, as most of us do.

All of my efforts are for naught though, given my son’s current obsession with bellies.  That’s right, C’s current obsessive phase is with the human body, particularly the belly.  This means that when it’s nap time or bed time, C usually lifts the hem of my shirt to reveal my non-flat, very white, heavily stretch-marked belly and gently pats it.  (Odd or affectionate? Hmmm…affectionate with me, odd when he starts trying to examine other people’s bellies, which has happened.)

The first few times this happened I was self-conscious.  My poor belly was exposed!  And it did not look its best.  So I would gently remove C’s hand, pull my shirt down over my tummy, and try not to think about my former two-pack in high-school.  Sigh…

Yet C is persistent.  For whatever reason, rubbing my mommy tummy made him happy.  If I tried to stop him, C just got upset.  He was insistent that he snuggle next to me and rub tiny strokes across my belly button!  Why this makes him so content, I don’t know, but it does.  Meanwhile, nothing about my white flabby belly sticking out of the bottom of my t-shirt looked attractive.  Nothing!  It didn’t matter though, it made him happy to do it, so I let him.

I was initially hoping this was a phase, some kind of momentary obsession to emerge and pass.  In his infancy, one of the only ways I could get C to calm down was to undress him down to just his diapers, strip myself down to just my intimates, and hold him, skin to skin.  There was something magical about that direct skin contact that soothed him.  It didn’t last long though, fading with time, as I was sure this would too.

But as days and weeks went by, C continued to love on my belly.

I knew that no matter how flabby, how white, how covered in stretch marks, C just loves my tummy.

Or I should say, he just loves me.

And there’s something more than a little liberating in that thought.

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I complain on here…a lot.  Tonight I’m going to tell you all the things I love about my new house.

Why tonight? Well, as I was giving C his bath, we listened to the Raffi song “Thanks A Lot”.  Yes, I know I am siting Raffi as my writing inspiration, but you never know what spirit will move you.

So tonight I’m thankful for:

  • The stars. I can actually see them here.  At our old house in Redondo Beach, I could typically see about two stars at night.  Though Redondo is considered a “suburban” part of LA county, it is more urban than most of the places I’ve ever lived.  Ever block is crammed with houses, stores, apartments, professional buildings, etc.  Traffic (and traffic noise) is non-stop.  Thus, when sun sets, it is often brighter after dark than at dusk, thanks to the thousands upon thousands of street lights, traffic lights, security lights, neon lights.  Here in Huntington Beach, I live on the edge of nowhere.  There is literally nothing between me and the ocean except for a few old oil derricks.  When I look out my window at night, I am greeted by the blackness of the ocean’s night sky.  All that lights my view is a twinkling line of orange lights along Pacific Coast Highway.  And in return for my journey 30 miles south I am given a sky-full of stars.
  • The hawks. I am not a bird person.  At ALL.  I think birds are rather mean, spiteful creatures, who seem to have a special hatred for humans.  Not that I blame them.  We eat their kind, so it’s understandable.  But they are still mean.  And beautiful.  Mean and beautiful.  Anyways….I hate crows.  They are especially mean, just ask a friend of mine who got attacked by one while riding her bike.  Or ask my old room-mate about how we were tormented by a murder of crows that lived on the garbage bin behind our apartment during our sophomore year.  They would sit there and caw for hours.  HOURS! Redondo was no better.  For whatever reason, there are thousands of the horrible suckers in the area.  They would land on my chimney, lean into the chute and caw…loudly, driving me and my dogs slowly insane.  We have slowly been regaining our sanity, thanks in large part to the enormous hawks that patrol our beautiful backyard wetland.  They seem to hate crows as much as I do and for that, I am very thankful.

    My hero

  • My new view.

    ahhhhhh

  • The quiet.  Part of living in a city is the noise.  The constant noise! This made my poor Penny very nervous.  She takes her job as watch dog very seriously.  A loud truck? BARK! A distant siren? Bark! A couple walking their dog past our house at 11pm? BARK BARK BARK BARK! Now, I have literally 7 houses other houses on my street, sharing a wall with only one.  There is no house behind, no house to the left.  The closest street light is over half of a mile away.  Sure, people use the trail behind my house to walk their dogs, but mostly during the day, and a good 20 meters from the house.  Penny is, needless to say, relieved.  She only barks at people who come to my door (so mostly tolerant relatives and delivery men), and any trucks that rumble by.  Thus, trash days are awful, but the rest of the week is blissfully quiet.
  • The backyard. Since moving, C’s hair has gotten noticeably blonder, I’ve actually grown tanner, and my dogs have acquired bumps and scratches from joyfully racing through the rose bushes.  My poor Dodger ended up with a quarter-inch thorn stuck in his paw! But this is not what makes me thankful.  What makes me thankful is that all my children have yards and yards of space to run, frolic and play.  It’s not unusual to see one or both of my dogs squirming on their backs in the green grass or chasing each other full speed back and forth across my now expansive lawn.  And what of C? You can find him running, laughing after the dogs as they play.  Sometimes he’ll pick up one of their tennis balls, run after them, offering it (ok, trying to push it into their mouths) as he giggles.  I honestly feel that heaven may look a little like my backyard when they’re all having fun like that.

Yes, there are many, many things I do not love about my new house, but once the renovations start I’m sure you’ll get an earful about each and every one of them.

For tonight though, just assume that I am blissfully happy with my wonderful new-to-me Huntington Beach house. And I’m more than a little thankful for the beauty God put outside my window.

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