MY March Madness Bracket

Thirty six, treinta y seis, trente-six, trentasei... my birthday number for the year. I've officially graduated to the "box" that insinuates if you're 36 then you might as well be 40... Ya know, in questionnaires I've moved from the 20-25 girl years of spontaneous road trips, FINALLY legally buying alcohol and no worry times. In the 26-30 bracket, it was a less girl to more woman transformation- marriage, a real career, buying a home, having my first baby. Onward and ripping through 31-35, another wonderful baby then the girl in me disappeared and life turned quite serious. Major changes, significant losses. All woman, no girl and unrelenting pressure. Now to drop that bracket and check the 36-40 box, the "age" of my attitude adjustment.

I've always loved my birthday and never dreaded gaining a year, I look younger than my chronological age, or so I've heard. I've always been on the athletic side. "Ohh, that will change when you hit 30" I was told. Well, I had a baby at 30 and shrunk back to my "below average" weight. I had another baby, and again, went right back to my pre-baby weight without ever hitting the gym. God bless genetics. Now before you smack me, please note that the only guarantee in life is that things are constantly changing... well, and that you will die some day, but I digress. Peculiar things happened between my 35th and 36th year, and here are some nitpicking observations.

YEARS ago I saw a Golden Girl's episode where my fave, Blanche, said all women KNOW that missionary is the ONLY favorable position. When questioned, she suggested that her face still looked flawless in that position and is a sore sight when she's "on top." Last week, I leaned OVER a mirror on the counter to tweeze my brows and about fell over. Wowwy!! I had NO idea, my face could even LOOK like that. Cartoonishly scary. Go try it, seriously. I'll wait.......

Quietly over the last couple of years, I've put on about 15 pounds. I needed to gain a few and like it for the most part. I actually have a decent bosom, something that was nonexistent in the "stick years." Post-child nursing, I've learned the importance of "push-up" bras (not padded!) to get the girls back up where they belong. And I actually have a booty. None of the women in my family have a butt, literally. My family is FULL of flat-ass women, it's the trademark. I may get kicked out of the club for this. I kinda like my mirror reflection... but this is enough, NO MORE!

I recently started running. First, my right foot started hurting- no surprise- I've had foot surgery. Changed up the shoes and at it again. Now my knee is filled with a chronic ache... along with the foot. I had to add some jamming music in my ears to drown out my panting and gasping for air as I felt each step pound the pavement. It shocked me when I heard my breathing in the momentary silence between songs. I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called an ambulance as of yet.

For my bracket, there's no specific fashion division. You can either go too young and foolishly dress like a teenager or into the world of elastic waistbands, cardigans, and Dr. Scholls. Where does a 36-40 woman find age appropriate, and yet FUN clothing... and on a single mom's budget?!? My aunt gave the BEST advice a few years ago. She told me to show as much skin as I want NOW because there'll be a time that I'll want to cover it up. I never knew what she meant... but I'm getting the hint now. My skin is changing. I am developing laugh lines, frown lines, curious lines, fine lines. Sun/age spots are popping by to say hello.... admittedly, I did nothing to stave those off in my teens and twenties. I naturally have jet black hair and look better with a little sun. Without it and considering black is my favorite clothing color, I look like a gothic cult ringleader. So back to the clothing dilemma, no short-shorts here but fitted clothing not requiring an orange peel for removal are a go. Then heels for dressier nights out. I can't believe I used to fear heels. Wearing them makes me feel "pulled together" and grown up. I don't feel like such a child, my legs look killer long, and the posterior looks better. Still, heels make my running foot hurt... I may have to stop running....

Unladylike noises. Hey now! Stop thinking THAT way! I was talking about those ridiculous noises made when getting off the floor, squatting down to reach the bottom shelf at the grocery, picking your child up to put them in the car... uhhh or ughh sounding noises. I catch myself doing it all the time. Is there a timer in my uhhh brain I can shut off for a while to silence that??

Other random aging thoughts: I have to dye my hair. I have WHITE sprouts that MUST be concealed. As a bonus, once the color begins to fade, those white hairs tricked black actually reflect as little brown. Bam, instant highlights! As for makeup, I get LOST in the foundation department scrutinizing each bottle's guarantee for "age defying, pore concealing, line refining" tricks. After 10 grueling minutes, I make my purchase only to later find it was the wrong tint. Grrrr! How am I supposed to guess this by looking at a "swatch" on the shelf label?! Can you tell single mom budget prevails here too?!? And on that note, I purchased the generic Oil of Olay to save a buck only to cringe later. It read "Beauty Fluid"... Why in the sam hell would they call it fluid?!? Maybe it's my offbeat humor, but it sounds disgusting!! Works the same though, fyi.

I could fill this with changes (my hair's not as curly, nails are more brittle, fingers are bonier, etc) but it must stop somewhere! I only recently started noticing fashion, hair, makeup, and the like. Single woman-dom will do that. I don't run out and buy "must-haves" but I do notice. Thank goodness everything changes- the bad times, fashion boos, uneven haircuts (something I am experiencing right now). Being stagnant can be dangerous. People SHOULD change with age and (hopefully) new, insightful wisdom is along for the ride. Now I have another year to enjoy and more birthday candles to blow out. Keep the oxygen tank handy!

Secrets of the House

Paint toenails with metallic nailpolishes for warmer weather. The metallic hides imperfections even when the tootsies need another coat. Small chips are nearly undetectable. It's all about easy breezy.



Skip the overbearing car fresheners. Slip a fabric softener sheet under your car seats to have a light and airy smell.... I'm currently obsessed with the lavender scent. Double duty if you find yourself with a static problem, swipe it from under the seat and run it along your clothes. Presto! (I realized today leaving spearmint gum in your car works pretty darn good too!!)

Use dry erase markers to leave notes on the bathroom mirror and windows. The marker wipes right off and the kids think I'm neat. Wink, wink. (DO make sure your kids know it's not a normal marker. THAT could be trouble!)

For my first apartment, Mom and I made curtains out of sheets. We used a twin size flat sheet as one panel. While redecorating my living room on a tiny budget, I found discount fabric to re-upholster pillows, but couldn't find coordinating blue curtains in my budget. Walking through a large chain store, I headed to bedding. I love it that they 1. had the perfect shade of blue 2. sell each bedding component individually and 3. had enough full sheets to split and make two panels. We're talking 6 curtain panels for $24. After laundering: split them, finish the raw edges, zip a stitch on top about an inch down (to create the "pinch" on top and pocket for the rod), iron and ta-da, big changes on a little budget! The nice part is the LOWER the thread count, the better- super soft sheets don't make for great curtains!

Open Mind Policy

Thank you for the wonderfully sweet words, posted on here and to me personally. Sometimes it's easy to get stuck in the low moment, but the human spirit shining through words of kindness and encouragement can really lift a girl up. So MANY thanks. I just keep thinking some day, this won't hurt so much.

I am usually horrible at remembering dreams with any real clarity. The alarm goes off and I hit the floor running. In reflection, I DO know it was extra special to wake up with the presence of Mom and remember our talk to the last detail. The next night, as I drifted off I hoped she would visit again. I had questions. I was startled by the annoying AM buzz and actually had a recollection of my night's thoughts but instead I chuckled... I was getting a pedicure. Yep, that's it. No major revelation, no life-changing event. And pedi's are something I don't have the luxury to do! No luck, I'll try again. But that next morning... I was kicking up dirt and doing donuts through a cattle show in a General Lee car (Dukes of Hazzard!) Wow. If this sampling represents the inner workings of my nocturnal brain, I may just enjoy my AM amnesia! So instead, I thank her for the visit and tell her I will have my neon "Open" sign lit just for her if she ever wants to come back. That may very well have been the one and only, but she arrived at such a critical time, I am forever grateful.

Heaven Sent

I awoke at precisely 3:09 am smiling ear to ear. I had been holding my Mom's hand and it was wonderfully comforting. The words she spoke were echoing in my head. Strength, encouragement, such familiarity. I stirred around for a moment enjoying how she always lifts me up. Then a sickening feeling washed over me, confusion set in. "Wait a minute," I whispered glancing around my bedroom dimly lit from the hallway. Where is she? Is she here? Oh no, no, no. She's not. But she WAS just here.... wasn't she? Loneliness immediately rushed out the peaceful feeling. It felt as I was reliving her death again. I've dreamed about her only a few times since she passed. But this one, this one was REAL. It couldn't have been a dream. I held her hand, I could FEEL her hugging me. I ran my fingers over her wedding rings as we talked. I told her I couldn't see her, my vision was blurry. She calmly said she is right here. I ask her why I can't see her... my eyes just won't work, she repeats that she is right here. My hand never left hers. I FELT her next to me while we talked. I can't believe it wasn't real! What a cruel trick, I thought. What a mean joke to play on someone feeling the loss now more than ever. I want to return to that dream, I didn't know it wasn't real now I wish it wouldn't have ended. Tears roll down my face now as I think about it. I will never get over her death. It would define who I am today if I let it.

Times have been tough lately. Mentally, physically, financially. I have moments of sheer unrelenting desires to scream "I GIVE UP!!!" until my voice gives way. Then a sweet innocent face will say "Momma" and I remember why I fight so hard to keep our little family together and running. My kids look to their mom just as I looked to my own. We are the "little engine that could" family and have conquered many mountains together already. But I have a struggle that is all my own now. I started reading "Motherless Daughters" in a quest for healing and peace. While I can't say it has sped up healing, there's comfort in numbers even when you feel like the only lost soul. I distantly remember my Mom's pain when her mother passed. It was life altering for her as well. I suppose every woman will be forced into this club at one time or another, kicking and screaming as I have. I mistakenly thought my hardest moment was that storming night and I softly spoke "Go with God Momma" as she took her last breath. I prayed she would not take another. I wanted this fight to end for her. I looked to the clock and announced her time of death. Later, my aunt would ask how I knew that was her last. All I could say was I could feel it. I thought that was the toughest moment of my own life. Little did I know, the worst is actually here and there and strikes with such reverence it forces out my own breath... and hope.

My sister and I have been disconnected as of late, so we set out on a short road trip today, gabbing the whole way. We talked of her growing photography business, our kids, the random updates in our lives. As our chatter slowed, I told her about my dream. The tears mutually started, something we do well together. She said, "Oh, that WAS Mom. She WAS there. She knew you needed her." I nodded in agreement but still wondering if it was just a dream. Hours later, I received disappointing news. I spent all evening frustrated and upset. My sister's words came back. I was shocked at how "spot on" she was and how skeptical I have become. But it just makes sense. There is no other answer. Mom knew I was going to have one of those "Give Up" moments today. She knew my faith has been stretching thin. She knew I needed a reminder that she IS, in fact, still right here. I DID talk to her at three am in the silence of my bedroom. She was here. I hugged her. I held her hand. She told me she loved me. Sometimes my faith drifts. Sometimes I think I'm being tested beyond what a "normal" person can handle. I get frustrated. I get angry. I question everything. Maybe the answer is quite simple. Maybe I've been looking everywhere but at the moment that started a drastic change in my life and ended hers on earth. Maybe the answer is the last thing I spoke to her... "Go with God" in everything- my beliefs, my fears, my worrisome nights, and that's all I need to know. Maybe now it's up to me to believe.


*My little boy (my Mom's "bonus baby") has been sleeping next to me while I blogged. As I finished the last sentence, he awoke, sat up, hugged me and went straight back to sleep. God... and love... works in ways we don't always understand. But if we close our eyes and choose to believe, then it's even more than we ever hoped to see. Thanks Momma Chiquita for sending the hug too.

Love you, miss you, always with you.

Phenomenal Woman

Just a small reminder for all those phenomenally wonderful women out there.

PHENOMENAL WOMAN
by Maya Angelou


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.



from And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.

What The Funk?!?

March. Waaahooooo! Spring. About time!! Warm. When??? Now I'm going to sound like that 80 yr old pocket change jingler, but awful strange weather we are having. Seriously where is the sun, warm weather, birds spreading their wings after a long winter? Hellllo Mother Nature, did you sleep through your alarm? Hit the snooze? Do you need a reminder? I can shoot you a text, call your cell? Are you on Facebook? Twitter? I'd even log back on to Myspace if that's where you're hiding. I'm sorry, but your performance as of late is simply not acceptable. And between us, your ass would get a pink slip if it were up to me. I can not wear these bulky sweaters one more day and my feet miss the way it feels to slide between crisp cotton sheets without fuzzy socks running interference. So please NOW and I'll let you keep your job... but don't expect a raise this year.

Cleaning out my little walk-in, my seasonal routine, I happily bagged up winter items still donning tags and hit the return lines. I can't "do" winter any longer. I've redecorated my living room from deep reds and tans to whimsical blues. I've changed candles to light and airy, I've stacked up closet "keepers" to bag for the attic. Without further delay, I set out to resuscitate my stale, stuffy closet. Bundled in a wool coat with gloves dangling from the pockets, you will see me smiling into a store mirror with oversized sunglasses hiding my mid-30's eye wrinkles. And next briskly pushing them on top of my head. My sunglasses are multi-purpose: the obvious- eye protection with an air of sophistication and the elementary- to function as a headband... can't slip or worse, stretch! Shedding fuzzy socks, I'm pulling pant legs up to admire the newest spring sandals.... ohhh, and maybe those open-toe heels too. Next up, check out the dressing room. With winter layers piled in a corner and a mirror reflecting one pale body, I'm scrutinizing one of the five two-piece bathing suits I adored. Ugh, not this one- the material doesn't even begin to cover my butt, oh this one makes me look flat as a pancake up top, this one is just plain strange, what size is this one because it can't be tagged right... Oh yeah, most definitely need to do sit-ups again and lay off winter baking and get a tan and then this last one will do.

Maybe I'm fast tracking but a summer of cute sundresses, little skirts with tanks, alive colors, and fun blouses is waiting... so close that I can almost grab it. I'm ready to feel like a "girl" and not a coat rack, footloose and carefree, shed those blahs and emotions of one hard never-ending winter, wear brilliant colors to make my eyes sparkle, put a little rose on the cheeks... In all honesty, I legitimately have seasonal affect disorder, unaffectionately referred to as the funk. By the time February hits, I'm struggling with my other personality- Queen Grouch. I shouldn't live in an area with four true seasons. I would be thrilled with only one. A decorated palm tree for Christmas suits me juuuuuust fine. I love windows open with curtains blowing, deck time with friends.... yum, the smell of the grill!!!! Sunshine cures the madness, homegrown fruits and vegetables, hair thrashing wildly in a breezy car, my kids crashing into dreams after a hard day's play outside, flip flops and pink toenails, birds chirping good morning, the smell of freshly cut grass.... I can see myself running through a field of daisies as I type this. HELP, Mother Nature I am losing it! Fix it now and your job's not in jeopardy, my imagination was just on defrost, now please show everyone just how magnificent you.... and me in a cute little sundress.... can be!