Wednesday, May 11, 2011

No chef at my house has ever been pampered...

     I often wonder what old friends from high school or university would secretly think of me if they were to casually run into me in the laundry detergent aisle in Walmart or the moulding section at Home Depot. Do they see the superficial veneer that is "Rachel"? Do they notice that I've traded my my collection of high heels for running shoes (Sketchers Shape Ups- I will desperately try anything to diminish the size of my bum) and that my designer duds have slowly been replaced by jeans that look dangerously close to "Mom Jeans"? Do they turn up their noses at my unremarkable styled hair, or do they smile knowingly at the yogurt smudge on the shoulder of my T-shirt that our son used as a napkin as I was lifting him out of his highchair after a hasty breakfast? Are the dark circles evident under my eyes or did I remember to put concealer on? (Who am I kidding- I barley remember what day it is 85% of the time.) I sometimes catch a fleeting glimpse of myself in mirrors as I either chase our daughter, who has taken control of the phone while I'm in the middle of a conversation with my mother, or as I carry Dryden- already heavy eyed, and half asleep - upstairs to bed, and I think, "Good lord, who the hell is that woman!?"

     This week, it has been a challenge to reconcile the tired, over exerted, stretched-too-thin, mom trying her best with the social, polished, fun, care-free adult I'm aiming to be. The first half of this week has been a whirlwind of back-to-back appointments, home renovations, numerous trips to the big box stores (lists, measurements, and calculator in hand), finishing up projects, and late nights cleaning; and the remaining days of this, the second week of May, promise more of the same. More appointments, more therapy exercises, an anxiety filled trip to CHEO, and a wedding. Pair these numerous mini road trips with the added headache of prepping our home to be sold...and it equals a stupidly inconvenient week to cross 'abandoning Pepsi as my vice' off my life's list.

     On that note, my anti-Pepsi campaign has been successful thus far. I've been consuming far more water,V8 juice, and wine left over from our wedding (I recently cleaned the basement and neatly stacked boxes filled with 100 bottles of California white. To say that we ordered too much wine for our favours is a slight understatement even for an utter idiot.) My headaches have reluctantly waved their white flags, and my hands have "manned" up and stopped shaking in protest to the lack of caffeine. I am still slightly grumpy and my patience is nothing to write home about (seriously, I'm not going to write about it.) I'd love to profess that I am tackling everything on my list with a flourish of enthusiasm and determination...but I am not. I will- eventually, but for now I would like to concentrate on a few key points to ensure that I do them to the best of my, at times, flailing abilities so that they will be done properly and wholeheartedly. Of the specific goals that I outlined for myself, giving up Pepsi, being healthier, socializing with my friends and neighbours, and saying "Yes!" to every invitation received will be the immediate changes that I am making and then I plan to build on each individually.

     I attended a Pampered Chef party at a neighbour's home this evening. I felt like bailing at the last minute, favouring changing into jammies and going to bed early, but I am glad that I didn't. I had a great time visiting with some women that, although I live within arm's reach of , I don't see socially very often. The wine was cold and flowed freely, the laughs were loud and numerous, and the food was delicious and made by someone else. The best kind of party, really. And I acquired two cook books and some paring knives in the process...

     As I alluded to earlier, we are also getting our house ready to put up for sale. We are deep within the process of buying Nick's grandparnets' property and need to sell our home to finalize the deal. Ugh. I think I love our house so much because it held the promise of never having to move again. Never having to keep your house unrealistically clean for weeks on end, never having to pack up years worth of life, never having to re-adjust and re-establish routines. I am not looking forward to those aspects of moving. I am enjoying the projects associated with selling our home- I am a true and pure DIYer. So, the next time you happen to bump into me at Canadian Tire and I have not brushed my paint speckled hair, my face is void of all cosmetics, my nails ragged, unpainted, quite possibly caked with grout and both children clinging to my legs are worn out from their travels...reach out and say, "Hey- you look...great" and placate my self-conscious self. Please.

    

1 comment:

  1. I still wear the high heels and wear designer clothes...difference is that the clothes are covered in Owen drool and my coach purse has loose goldfish crackers in the bottom

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