Maybe you’re like me. Maybe every day in some way you feel like a newly fallen turnip. A rookie. A beginner. A little wet behind the ears. When I had a baby, I glanced over my shoulder to discover regurgitated breast milk dripping down my back. That’s when everything — not just motherhood — seemed a little more important. A little more up in a ponytail. A little more up in the air.

Posts Tagged "body image"

What’s in A (Nick) Name? I Shudder to Think…

There was a time when I thought nicknames were limited to “Honey,” “Darlin’” (no g, ever), and “Sugar.” Those were the ones I heard my grandparents use the most, and it was sort of lovely to be lumped in with all the other Darlin’s in the family — that no matter who you were, you…   read more

Yoga Bear It

Today was a just-get-through it kind of day, and I’m almost embarrassed about how light and momentary all my little trials really were. I could make excuses about monstrous PMS or the first time swimming this summer with Both Things, or about the rain waking One up from his nap or about monstrous PMS (did…   read more

Waxing Intellectual

Recently I have become so busy that my personal hygiene and grooming have suffered. I was in my dressing room at the theater wondering where on earth I should start once the show closed. Pedicure? Roots? I stroked my mustache and pondered. Then I figured waxing should top the list. Madeline doesn’t have these inclinations…   read more

Fail Safe and Sound

Drew has started implementing safety standards for his own obedience. If he is about to spill his milk, again, on purpose, and he knows it — he can feel the drumbeat of compulsion rushing through his veins — he hands me his glass and says, “Here, Mommy, I gonna spill dis.” Even if it has…   read more

The Jean-ing of Life

A couple of nights ago, I went to a jeans party. You’ve heard of Tupperware parties and Pampered Chef parties and jewelry parties and “toy” parties — mere child’s play, indeed. This was a no-nonsense, grown-up gathering of women who could have done many things with their evening that night. They could have read books,…   read more

Preggo and Perspiring. At a Pageant.

Right before I gave birth to Thing One, a friend asked me to judge a beauty pageant. My friend is a former beauty queen herself, first runner-up Miss Texas to be exact. (She should have WON.) In college I was her piano accompanist when she would go around making appearances and singing. Most of the…   read more

Split Endings: An Ode to Mary

A couple of weeks ago, my hairdresser broke up with me. I had been trying to find a way to end it myself, but she made it easy. It was the conclusion of a seven-year relationship, a relationship that was full of tenderness, sympathy, understanding – everything but monogrammed bath towels. We didn’t have the…   read more

Infant Bikinis?

When I was in college and (much more) immature, my roommates tried to convinced me to wear five padded bras all at once, one on top of the other, one night when I was going out. The impetus was a water bra I owned that had the most life-like inserts, which created the reverse of…   read more

Swimsuit Shopping with Trina, Betsey and Me: A History

Before you turn 30, swimsuit shopping can only have one of two possible effects: 1. Deep shame, self-flagellation and compulsive queso consumption. Or 2. Self-worship and quiet happy dances behind the dressing room curtain. There is no in-between. Swimsuits divide the heart, joints and marrow, revealing your true essence. Kind of like the Bible. Have…   read more

Like a Woman Wanting a Boob Job

I apparently look like a woman who wants a boob job. Not a woman needing a boob job. Wanting one. I was at the gyno’s office this week for your favorite thing and mine, the pap smear. The baby doctor’s office is an elite club where to feel like a VIP you have to be…   read more