Affirmation

I work at a university library. We're a small school, the kind of place where students are involved with at least 5 extra-curriculars and are taking 19 credits. It's easy for our students to feel overwhelmed, particularly our women. There's a lot of pressure (external and internal) on young women today. That's why my heart was so warmed when I saw this in the women's bathroom at work. Our young women have each other's backs! Check out these affirmations that were left to help lift others up:

You are loved
You look good
Damn girl
You sexy
Get that coffee
Success starts w/ you
You're unique
Be positive
Be confident
I love you
You got this
You're beautiful
You're perfect
You're amazing
You rock
Be you

We all need to remember this sometimes. That we're all these things, and that we've got women who have our backs.

Guest Post: Finding a Special Someone . . . For Your Hair

Today's guest post is by Brittany. She's has a super tall husband, two awesome kids, a dog, and a part time grad school habit she's trying to kick. You can read more of her awesome and funny adventures on her blog.

There is nothing more daunting, more perilous, more necessary than finding a good hair dresser. It is the difference between feeling like a rockin’ super star and feeling like Britney Spears circa 2007 (Google it. It’s not pretty).

About a year ago my go-to salon closed down and I was devastated. I’d rather walk across burning coals than go through the trial and error of finding that one special someone who gets me. 

Case-in-terrible-point: After said salon closure, I went to a hair dresser who came highly, if not unreliably, recommended. Let’s do this, I thought to myself. How bad could a hair dresser really be? 

(Hint: Really bad)

All I wanted was my dark hair to be a little lighter. A nice, light brown. Is that so much to ask?! (Hint: Yes. It is.)

What I got was bright yellow streaks throughout my still-dark hair. There are few words to describe how terrible it looked. 

It gets better…

My hair was so over-processed it literally just started falling out. Running my hand through my hair produced such a large amount of fried hair in the palm of my hand that it was absolutely panic-inducing.

Did I mention I was 8.5 months pregnant? And that the purpose of my appointment was to make myself look fabulous for the impending birth of my second kid. 

Total. Failure.

Enter my personal hair-angel. A neighbor revealed to me that she did hair out of her house and she could take a look at it.

Not only did she save my hair (save? Salvage? It took 5 months before my hair grew out enough for me to sport my trademark blunt bangs. My BANGS FELL OFF.), but she restored my faith in hair-doing-humanity.

And today, 1 year and 2 months after what I call “that one time my hair died and I looked balding-ly terrible right before having a baby” I finally was brave enough to ask her to make my dark hair just a little bit lighter.

Not only is it THE PERFECT COLOR, but my hair isn’t even damaged. And my bangs. They’re still there!

My confidence is through the roof and I’m feeling not at all like having panic attack when I look in the mirror.

Total. Success.

My advice to you? Find your special somebody. Find the person that knows you, and loves you for you…find your perfect hair dresser.

My "Fitspiration"

Look, there's a lot of stuff out there about health and fitness. "Fitspo" is a thing now, and if that floats your boat, more power to you. All that matters is that you feel really, honestly good about it. If you do, then that is awesome, no questions asked. 

You may be shocked to learn that fitspo doesn't work for me (but then again... Yeah, you're probably not). This article explains the problems I have with the fitspo trend, and you should read it, because it was also the inspiration for the image I created and shared at the bottom of this post. To sum up:

• Lots of fitspo is actually advertising. (Obviously problematic.)
• It's often sexualizing under the guise of being empowering.
• It's often unrealistic/extreme/sensationalistic.
• It generally involves comparisons, judgment, and/or shaming.
• Many of those women are probably photoshopped.

So I compiled some inspirational images that do work for me, and thought I would share them with you.

(Needing your body to be fit so you can love it = the same thing.)

(Maybe it's none of anyone's business either way.)
(Also, I know several people this size who do run marathons.)

My New Favorite Supermodel

I'd be lying if I said those were words I ever expected to say, but here they are, and totally true. I have a crush on Cameron Russell.

If you don't know about TED Talks, that is a situation that needs to be remedied immediately. If nothing else, you should acquaint yourself with them now because I'm almost guaranteed to post more of them here in the future. I've never seen one that wasn't fantastic, and most of them are pretty mind-blowing considering how short they are (usually five to twenty minutes, sometimes longer; this one's just under ten). 

Cameron Russell's talk is a good example. It's not earth-shattering, but it's a fascinating perspective most of us probably haven't had the opportunity to hear much of (because how many supermodels do you know?). It's also an interesting commentary on the way appearances affect our lives. "Image is powerful, but also, image is superficial. I just totally transformed what you thought of me in six seconds"—which she did by changing how she looked on stage. If you have ten spare minutes today, this would be an excellent way to spend them.

Self-Perception versus Reality

I came across this Dove ad campaign video and knew I needed to share it with the women in my life. So often we find ourselves fixated on the flaws we think we see; how can we open our eyes to the beauty we all possess? How do you turn looking in the mirror from a potentially negative experience into a positive experience?

(This post is in no way sponsored by Dove, just inspired by the positivity of their message.)

A Pavlovian Philosophy of Sex

Our dear friend Krissie posted a truly lovely article on Facebook yesterday, and I want to share it with you. It's quite long, but it's definitely worth reading to the end. Occasional skimming is acceptable if you deem it necessary--the important thing is the message.

I've come to realize something profound that I don't know if I've ever heard anybody actually say.

It is not the impossibly air brushed females on magazine covers who are causing women to hold themselves against a standard of perfection. No, it's not that at all. Holy crap. Why am I just realizing this? Why doesn't anybody seem to realize this?

It is the men that stop and look at those magazines.

And that simple, repeated act is how we constantly, and never-endingly declare to women that they are not good enough, and will never be good enough.

We stop, and we look.

And women notice.

This post is written with a pleasant freshness and honesty that will probably make you want to give the writer a hug at various points throughout; and, like it promises in the introduction, it presents some compelling arguments that will maybe make you examine your own life a little bit.


There was one particular paragraph that resonated with me more than the rest (which is not to say that the rest did not resonate). Please, it says.

Please. Let's stop ogling the very things that are causing this tragic mind game. Let's stop walking by the never-ending porn that surrounds us with our jaws dangling so carelessly. Let's stop salivating every time Pavlov rings his freaking bell.

It is the last sentence of this paragraph that strikes me, and I believe it makes a vital point: That essentially, we as a society have learned that the most important thing in life is sex.


In our feelings about sex, just like Pavlov's dogs, we have allowed ourselves to be conditioned. Women let themselves believe that desirability is the ultimate indication of worth. Men let themselves be taught that they are nothing but sex machines. Our society says we need to be sexy, so we try to be sexy. Society says something will make us sexy, so we try that thing. We'll even try to learn to have more confidence--not so we can stop worrying about something stupid, but because we've heard that confident people are sexy. This thinking, I'm sad to say, is truly warped.


The fact is that sex is a biological function. Its purpose is the propagation of species; it is a necessary and practical part of existence on this planet. Why, then, have we commercialized it, set it on a pedestal, and become obsessed with it?


We stress endlessly about the way we look; we spend thousands of dollars on makeup and workout systems and gym memberships and Spanx and liposuction and plastic surgery and lingerie and hairstyles and clothes. We know perfectly well that none of it means anything, but we do it anyway. We know already that none of those things will make a person healthy, that they are purely about appearance. But we buy them anyway, because more than almost anything else, we want to be desirable. We "know" that looks don't matter; we "know" it's what's inside that counts. We tell ourselves that we know these things--but time after time, our actions say otherwise. 


This is why I'm glad to have read this article, and why I have posted it here for you all to read. It's time for us to stop conditioning ourselves, and let Pavlov go find something else to do. It's time for us to remember what's important, and--for once--to actually act on our knowledge. 


And finally, finally--it's time to start ignoring the bells.

Time Tested Beauty Tips

This poem was not written by Audrey Hepburn, as many an email forward has claimed; it was written by Sam Levenson, but the lovely Audrey quoted it often. (It does seem like the kind of thing she would say, doesn't it? And that is why we love her.)

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone.

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anybody.

source (and a lovely story)

Remember, If you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands: One for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!

--Sam Levenson

Recognize Beauty

Maybe you've already heard this story from the Washington Post before (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html if you're having trouble with the link.) It's the story of a social experiment involving a world-class violinist and a subway station - and it's a fascinating commentary on our society.

How often are we too busy to notice great talent or beauty or excellence because it comes in an ordinary package? Do we see beauty in our friends? Our parents? Our spouses or siblings or children? I think sometimes we forget that extraordinary things often happen in ordinary places. We don't have to be in a museum or a concert hall to experience talent. We don't have to visit the wonders of the world to experience the beauty of nature. No one has to designate something as beautiful or valuable for us to recognize it as such.

The Economics of Beauty

Every time I watch a movie I am surprised at the number of really beautiful women there are in the world. It always seems like I can't imagine how there could be another one so pretty, and yet the next time I see a movie (or look at a magazine cover, or just walk around somewhere public like a mall), there's one I haven't seen before. With all the fuss we make over beautiful people, you'd think there would be a lot fewer of them than there are.


Which has led me to realize--so abruptly, in fact, that I am texting this to myself from my seat in the movie theater--why our obsession with beauty is so silly.

Physical beauty is not rare. There are millions of absolutely gorgeous people in this world. There's nothing unique about it, no reason why it should be in such high demand. It certainly wouldn't be if the laws of economics applied here.


Beauty isn't inherently good, either, at least in reference to what kind of people have it. There are plenty of truly crap people who are cruel and thoughtless, but also beautiful. 


You don't get to be beautiful by doing anything special, and you don't become a better person for it. It's not a quality you can develop. In fact, if our culture weren't shallow, superficial, and entirely backward in so many of the things it considers important, beauty would be the most worthless quality a person could have. 


There are countless, endless, limitless numbers of  really really ridiculously good-looking people in the world, so if the only thing a person has going for them is their beauty, then they don't have much at all. They're easily replaceable by any number of others. (Which is, perhaps, why Hollywood etc. are so obsessed with their looks... But that is sad, and makes me feel like we should pity them instead of envying.) 


Kindness, cleverness, compassion, determination, etc.--these are special qualities. These are things that make you unique, that say something about who you are, that make you different from others. These are things that count. One day beauty will be gone, and in the end I think we'll finally discover that it didn't mean anything to begin with.

Ugly Duckling Revisted

Back when we first started doing this, Lin posted something about the Ugly Duckling story and how that can be a little problematic. I saw this the other day and kind of liked it, so we're circling back around. 

"I wonder if the ugly duckling felt stupid when he realized being pretty didn't magically solve all his problems."

Operation Beautiful

Today I discovered Operation Beautiful.

A friend posted this picture on her Facebook profile, accompanied by a link to the website. I checked it out, and immediately wanted to share it with you. 

It looks like the premise of Operation Beautiful is that women go around leaving anonymous post-it notes with uplifting messages for other women to find--messages like these:

What a lovely idea! Check out the website (http://operationbeautiful.com/), and maybe do a little anonymous posting of your own where you live.

Guest Post: Brandon

Brandon is the founder of Notes on Parenting, a blog dedicated to giving parents important information about child development. It is also meant to bring up family life issues that we may not normally think about. Brandon is currently a student at Brigham Young University, majoring in Psychology with a minor in Family Life. He has been accepted for graduate studies in Human Development & Family Studies at the top schools around the nation. He and his wife have a beautiful (and teething) 9 month old daughter, who has done things all on her own time (i.e. she definitely doesn't fit what most of the development textbooks tell you!). Brandon's key interests include the transition to parenthood, the importance of fathers, and effective parenting.


How many times have you heard someone mention the impact of media on children? The most powerful video I've ever seen on the impact of media was created by Dove: Watch it here.

Seriously, after watching this video, all I can do is think, “I am raising my daughter with all of this around? How the heck do I protect her from all of this filth about what it takes to be a ‘real and beautiful’ woman?!”

But we can’t blame only outside influences--how many times do you yourself worry about how you look, or make comments about how you look in front of your children? Usually, what parents value, children begin to value as well; so if you are constantly worrying about those two extra pounds or your normal human body, children will begin to value a standard that may be unrealistic for their own bodies. Our bodies are sacred. Be careful what you do and say about your body around your children.

Additionally, everyday comments that we as parents make can influence our children's way of thinking about their bodies. For instance, which of the following approaches is better?

"Rachel! Stop watching TV all day. You'll get fat!"

-or-

"Rachel! Let's go for a bike ride together. It's a beautiful day!"

Both of these statements have the same intention--to get the child to stop watching TV and do something active--because the parent is worried about the child's exercise habits and health. However, the second example is much more effective on many levels. Instead of making the child worry about her looks and weight, the parent offers a better option for her daughter's time and body, while also spending time with the child. This is teaching by example. Be careful not to miss these small teaching moments! You can teach your children what real beauty is by letting them see your own priorities.

What do you have to say about this issue? How do you teach--or plan to teach--real beauty to your children?

A Post About Disney Princesses: Inevitable

Shannon Hale is one of my favorite authors and it's totally because she's all about the girl power. Her books are about strong, smart girls who rescue themselves (and usually the boys as well). I try to pick a favorite book of hers to recommend to people, but I can never pick just one and end up just telling people to read them all.

So, she posted this post on her blog the other day and, coincidentally, I have been thinking a lot about the Disney Princesses lately. Possibly because I spend a good portion of my day coloring and drawing Disney Princesses to the delight of the 6-year-old girl I babysit. I've been staring at these characters and started to really think about who they are and what they represent. They are all different ages and from different places and situations. They all (except for Snow White, she's just trying to not get killed) are rebelling against/asserting their independence from another main character; a step-mother, father, fairy caretaker, etc. They all end up with a handsome prince who comes and saves the day just in the nick of time.

Don't get me wrong, I love all of those movies (Sleeping Beauty especially, and it's one of the worst offenders of feminism). They are like romantic comedies for children. You watch and you dream of ways life could be or adventures that await you in some far off land. I think it's good to do those things. There's often talk about Disney movies instilling unreal expectations for life, but they really just tell some funny, exciting and beautiful stories. Also, Disney is doing a pretty good job, story-wise, in offering new princesses that learn to fend for themselves, save the day, achieve their dreams AND marry a handsome prince, Giselle and Tiana specifically. If you remember, Giselle climbs out onto a steep rooftop in an evening gown in the middle of a rainstorm to fight a dragon and save the life of her true love.

Still, with these small steps in a good direction, there is the notion of catering to an audience and making changes in order to sell more tickets to a wider audience. This isn't something that can be avoided, really, but it can be lessened (as Shannon Hale remarks). It's all about what we are showing our boys and girls. I know plenty of little boys who like princess stuff purely because it's the stuff their friends and sisters are playing with. On the other hand, I know plenty of girls who like dinosaurs and trains and cars because it's the stuff their friends and brothers are playing with. It's all fun and new and exciting. Kids develop their gender issues based on what they are taught by the world around them. And boys are not going to be fooled into going to see the new Rapunzel movie simply because the name was changed to "Tangled." That sounds more like a Harlequin Romance novel, if you ask me.

Put on a Happy Face

I came across this article while I was browsing blogs (A Cup of Jo, specifically) and thought I would share. Many of the "steps to simple happiness" are NYC-centric, but there are quite a few that are universal. Here are some of my favorites:

16. "Eat one ounce of dark chocolate a day. It's the new superfood."

18. “Don’t be afraid to change up your style. Your hair is your best accessory. Besides, what are you afraid of? It will always grow back."

21.“Forget the brown-rice sushi. The Japanese are some of the most long-lived people on the planet, and they only eat white rice.”

31.“Collect visual memories of moments when you were incredibly happy, and close your eyes and picture them when you need a boost. The mind needs images to access feelings.”

32. “Carry yourself more erect. Poor posture is a self-fulfilling prophecy of gloom. You can improve your outlook and confidence simply by improving your posture.”

33.“Start an old-fashioned correspondence with a friend. Handwriting a letter forces you to express yourself in a totally different way.”

34. “Diversify your cognitive portfolio: Museum Mondays, Tennis Tuesdays, Writing Wednesdays, Tango Thursdays, Learn-to-Frittata Fridays, Socializing Saturdays, Socrates Sundays. We need to rotate activities weekly to fire up different brain regions.”

44. “Think like a shark, act like a 5-year-old. Our bodies are meant to be in motion. Don’t stay in the same position for more than 30 minutes at a time.”

48. “Surround yourself with things that smell like green apple or cucumber, two scents that have been proved to reduce anxiety and boost mood. Candles, shampoo, lotion—anything.”


Not that I really needed someone to encourage me to eat MORE dark chocolate, but it sure is nice to have a good, solid reason for doing so. Like when I recite "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don't shoot their husbands." Again, I don't have a husband to shoot should I be unhappy, but this little gem of a quote keeps me moving when all I want to do is go procure more dark chocolate. Maybe now I will also remind myself to be more shark-like and zig-zag a little while I jog.

The point is, whatever works for you. Throw caution to the wind and eat white rice. Try a new hair style. Go buy some delicious smelling cucumber something or other. Most importantly, be happy.


Read more: 50 Steps to Simple Happiness -- New York Magazine http://nymag.com/health/features/63043/index2.html#ixzz0gK5JWjxh

A Lovely Birthday

Happy birthday Toni Morrison, the first black woman to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature--she is 79 years old today. Her beautiful novels explore the role of black women in a racist, male-dominated society, and if you didn't have to read her books in high school, you should try them out now.

"At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough." --Tar Baby, Toni Morrison's fourth novel

Destination: Beautiful

I spent last week at my grandparents' house visiting with them and cleaning whatever I could get my hands on. Three days were dedicated to the kitchen and during those three cleaning days, I watched whatever marathon happened to be on at the time. Lucky for me, one of those days brought me a What Not to Wear marathon (Megan, Miri and I are all equally in love with this show and I'm pretty sure we could talk about it with regard to specific episodes and people if it came down to it).

On one particular episode, I found myself holding back tears several times. There was this beautiful woman, successful, married, mother of a little girl, who could not believe she was pretty. Now, if you watch this show, you'll know this isn't necessarily out of the ordinary. A lot of the women on that show dress the way they do because of one insecurity or another. But when Stacy and Clinton asked this woman when the last time she felt beautiful was, she couldn't answer them. She just stood there thinking and not saying anything.

And I stood in my grandparents' kitchen, with my hands covered in soap suds, trying not to cry like a little baby. It broke my heart to think that she couldn't think of one single time when she felt beautiful. Think of it. Even when you only consider the "big" moments she had in her life- wedding, graduation, prom, etc.- she couldn't even default to that. She drew a complete blank.

It made me realize that no matter how unhappy I am with how I look, there are always times to look back on where I truly felt beautiful. Incidentally, prom is not included in that list. My fake college prom, however, is.

(See that guy there? With his arm around my shoulder? Yeah. Maybe that was the first and last time we ever met each other. But we went to a free college prom and I got roses so go me!)

It made me realize that there are other people who feel this way. This isn't a new revelation, I promise, but it is something that I was reminded of. It also reminded me of the challenge Miri talked about when we first started this blog. Look in the mirror and be happy with who you are. Tell yourself you are beautiful, do it long enough, and you will start to believe it and you will start to feel it. If no one else is saying it to you, say it to yourself.

Flaws are Beautiful.

"I like flaws and feel more comfortable around people who have them. I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions." --Augusten Burroughs

Don't Tweeze Your Life Away

I'm about to give you the deepest reading on tweezers that you have ever read. Yes, deeper than all of those other readings on tweezers that you have on your bookshelves.

I have a love/hate relationship with my tweezers.

I love them because it bugs me when there are hairs about that I don't want, and with tweezers I can easily eliminate it. And I don't know if anyone has noticed, but pulling out an obnoxious, unwanted hair is really satisfying. (Is this just me? Is that a really freaky confession?)

I hate them because they're the reason that I'm bugged by the unwanted hair in the first place. Why did I ever start picking away at my eyebrows? Why do any of us? Just because Carmindy tells us we should? And I know why and probably won't stop, but it's really, really annoying - especially when you just want to get that hair out and you can't quite get it. You know what I'm talking about. (Or this is all a very freaky confession, as postulated above.)

And the more I think about it, the more I think this is what I do with my life in general. I pick away at the little, insignificant imperfections that no one else notices and I pick at them obsessively. But it never makes my life better to just keep plucking at it. Thinking about the things I didn't finish (or even attempt) today makes me feel sick to my stomach, but it doesn't make them done. Thinking about the imperfections with the little things about the way I look just makes me dissatisfied with the overall product without making anything better.

Sometimes I feel like the picture I've included here (which, by the way, displays the freckle in my eye). It's like I have perfectly plucked eyebrows but forgot to wash all of the green dust off my face. I don't want that to be my life. I want to focus on making myself better in the big things in life instead of getting stymied by the little things that I just can't . . . quite . . . get . . .

My final thought comes from T.S. Eliot. I was re-reading some of his poems the other night (because I promised my roommate that anyone could enjoy poetry if he or she didn't have boring poetry rammed down his or her throat and I was trying to decide whether "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" could fall into the category of "not boring poetry" for someone who isn't me) and I came across these lines:

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse

For I have known them all already, known them all:-

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music of a father room.

So how should I presume?

The first part of this is the part that everyone remembers, and I've always liked it, but the part that stuck out to me this time was "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons." I like that imagery of measuring your life with an action so insignificant and precise, always wondering whether you could presume to know or do more than is expected of someone in so tiny a life as yours. The problem is that if we wait and wonder "Do I dare and do I dare?" for too long, our life ends up like Prufrock, with us saying, "That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all."

So you can take this literally or figuratively. Worry less about your tweezers (or whatever tiny thing bugs you about your appearance) and/or worry less about the tiny, precise things that bother you about your life and think more in terms of presuming than in terms of measuring with tiny spoons.

Guest Post: Rockin' the Stretch Marks

My name is Melissa Turney. I live in Las Vegas, Nevada, where it is hot and miserable, but after three years I can finally call it home. I am a wife and a mommy to a three month old daughter, Hannah. I will graduate from UNLV in December and become the first female college graduate on my dad's side of the family. I became acquainted with this blog through Megan, who was my first friend ever, and I've decided to adopt the attitude that I'm pretty awesome (in a completely humble way).


I was recently saddened by a status update from a pseudo friend of mine who is 25 weeks pregnant. She said “_____ told me today that cocoa butter doesn’t work on stretch marks... sad face.” I can’t fully blame her for her dismay. I admit that I, too, had qualms about my post-baby body while I was pregnant, as my body was distorting to epic proportions. But I also recognize that I’ve never felt more beautiful than when I was pregnant. If pregnancy is wonderful and beautiful, then post-pregnancy is a mess.

Before I had Hannah, I had a pretty average body. I weighed in at about 130 pounds; my boobs were small, but firm; and my skin was all around smooth and stretch free. Naturally as my body changed I became a little self conscious. While I’ve never had to really watch what I eat, I confess it took a while for me to eat fast food in public because I didn’t want to be the girl with the pudgy tummy eating a Big Mac. I didn’t even enter the building to buy any food until I had an obvious baby bump that was obviously not just an extra flab of fat.

My friends told me that it was the coolest thing to give birth and watch your stomach go flat (in reality it is the coolest thing to actually give birth and watch a human come out of you… a human you already love so completely). I was intrigued by this, as I could no longer remember what it was like to NOT have a pregnant body. About thirty minutes after I gave birth (I was a little too occupied with my new daughter to care about my body) I finally looked down to notice my stomach. To my amazement it WAS flat. Hallelujah! Unfortunately, to touch it felt like kneading dough but who could have time to care about that (TOES! HOW I MISSED YOU!) when my body was so small. Well... not quite. I stood up for the first time and my flat stomach became a replica of 4 month pregnant me. Did I miss something? Twins perhaps? Alas, I still looked pregnant when I stood up and let it all hang loose--literally. Not only that, but my body continued to change drastically over the next few weeks. My small but firm boobs had become large and voluptuous during pregnancy. I couldn’t wait to try those babies out after the stomach was gone. Unfortunately, they were still NOT sexy. They were leaking all the time and when they were not large and in charge, they were shriveled and resembled old man breasts.

I have to admit for about a month I didn’t want my husband to see me naked EVER. I didn’t even want to see me naked. The boob situation got worse as I’d lie down and they would flop to their respective sides of my ribcage (lovely), and I had long circular marks stretching across my once taunt stomach. I was not an attractive sight. Then something happened that changed my whole perspective…

I went to church two months after Hannah was born and a woman stood up to the pulpit. She introduced herself and her husband. She talked about how they had been married for five years and had been very blessed in the beginning. They managed to buy a house in a time when the sellers had the upper hand, and decided to start a family in their new home. While they were blessed in almost every aspect in life, they were not conceiving a child--and after over a year of trying they were told that the woman would never carry a baby conceived naturally. They started on fertility treatments. Nothing worked. They went into debt to try costly alternatives and still nothing worked. Finally, they gave up their house in order to do invitro fertilization, and happily, she is expecting a baby girl in February.

I sat there and listened to her story, sobbing as I held my baby close to my imperfect body. That imperfect body had created, carried, and delivered the perfect little angel who now lights up my life. My unattractive breasts now sustain that life through the milk my imperfect body creates. I went home, bound and determined to be grateful for a body that was so perfectly able to conceive with hardly a thought and have a successful, comparatively easy pregnancy. A month after that life changing moment, I still am in awe at my beautiful stretch marks swirling around a body that obviously has accomplished something miraculous. I roll out of bed, pick up my boobs off the floor, and face each day feeling more beautiful than ever, and grateful for the opportunity to be a woman. Grateful to carry the scars of childbirth, the dark circles from a lack of sleep, the lines on my eyes from smiling too much; and grateful for the perspective that I may now share with my daughter when she is feeling less than perfect.

Red Lipstick

Thought I would share this little update in loveliness (with classic Lindsey poses of course):


I will have to practice with application...red lipstick is not as forgiving as chapstick and if you mess up enough it makes you look not so hot. But the way it makes you feel! Oh my! I felt saucy, friends, and it was just a normal day full of errands.