In a bold, brief moment of "nurturing" myself and feeling determined to not buy into the north American version of beauty, I stuffed all of my 12-pounds-ago pants into a garbage bag and drove them to the thrift shop.
Then I spent roughly 19 hours eating birthday cake and ice cream, and great salty hands full of munchy mix. Nummy, all those salty trans fats rubbing shoulders with over processed, sugary cake mix covered in buttery frosting.
Yes, indeedy, its April. That great month when spring sweeps across the Manitoba prairies, giving me a case of the de-clutter-itis and the burst of energy to rearrange furniture, take down forgotten bits of Christmas garland, and chuck out bags of clothes that do nothing but make me feel like a big fat failure.
It's also that insane month where our two middle children have birthdays, a mere four days apart. Never being one to take the easy way out, I've planned two birthday parties back to back. Jane's went from Friday after school until Saturday morning. We played so many games and relays and crafts that we barely had time for the movie of Narnia before I shooed them into bed at midnight.
Four hours until Micah's friends show up expecting a wild celebration of their own. I've got on the same clothes that I chose on Thursday. My hair is shoved into a bandanna just so I can avoid a time-consuming and wet shower. I hate being wet. I'd rather be dirty.
A sad wanna-be cake waits on the kitchen counter. I have two games planned and I've done nothing to gather the supplies necessary to make them a success. The house is a cesspool of sticky cups and poutine splashes.
I'd really like to write more, but I've got to go and eat the rest of Jane's birthday cake now, one tiny sliver at a time. If I'm feeling particularily nurturing, I may wash it down with a beer or two before its time to put my plastic grin back on and turn this place back into party central. After that, I might celebrate by going out and buying myself a pair of those really roomy sweat pants, or maybe just a moo- moo. (or is it mu mu?)
Yup, I'm gonna be so freekin' good to myself that I'll soon become unrecognizable.
11 comments:
What's a mu-mu? It's my birthday soon. Can I have one, they sound my sort of thing?
loved your post
your hilarious!!
Cherrypie-
a mu-mu is a huge tent-like garment that I remember some people's mothers wearing when I was a kid. The theory is that they cover a multitude of sins but the reality is that they make row after row of jiggly fat into a sort of fabric flower garden.
esther-
you're too kind.
ok, everyone knows how tired I am. I'm clearly not Brian (like I need all that torturous testosterone to deal with on top of the rest of it.)
Is Brian your man?
My Korean friend was eating salad without dressing at lunch yesterday - he has suddenly developed an obsession with getting fat. Ironically, he made up for it later at Mom and DAd's with 6 or 7 buns drowned in jam, washed down with a few large chunks of strawberry jam. It's always easier to think thin when you're trying to make sure your salad is low-cal..........
It would be a good idea to preview. That should be strawberry PIE. One of the perfect foods in this world.
Cece- Yes, indeed that is the man. check him out at I Wonder. He's fabulous on a number of levels.
Carol- That's not fair. If I want to get fat, I should at least have been able to have some strawberry pie to celebrate. I thought of going to the folks but I was miserably tired and Arianna and Sammy are sick AGAIN.
There is some wonderful reward waiting for you - you have had much more than your share of sick kids! I've been thinking of taking your daughters (if they're not busy puking) for an overnight adventure to my favorite bed and breakfast the last weekend of April. What do you think? A friend of mine will be singing with his barbershop group that weekend and I've always thought it would be fun to go. The girls could think of it as a mind-expanding quirky thing to do with aunty Carol.....
Hope the parties were a success!
The verification word for this post is yhrpknpl which sounds very much like what a person would be mumbling after 2 consecutive birthday parties.
Cake. And beer. Yum.
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