Friday, August 19, 2011



Before Christina was a pre-school mom & a judge on a network vocal comp, she was just another trollop in hiney-baring chaps & booty shorts gettin' "Dirrty."  Story of my life this moring...only without the chaps & booty shorts (you're welcome, Neighborhood):
The photo doesn't do it justice.  I took a mud puddle with full force & didn't even break stride.  My shoes finally look like they've been used.  Filthy girl.

I didn't notice the mud until far too late because I was a)still a little asleep & b)in a dither.  I recently heard someone say, "Oh, well, it's easier for you because you're a stay-at-home mom."  The implication was that with all of my "free" time I could work out all day every day, a la Biggest Loser contestants.  This is what was rattling in my head as I was running at 6:30 AM so I could squeeze in a moment before my kids were up & my husband was at work.

Here's the deal:  I understand that I don't have to deal with working lunches or "food days" (quite possibly the worst contribution made by Corporate America to our culture) & if I were so inclined, I could pop in a workout video during nap time.  BUT, I'm also at ground zero for awful food choices 24/7 & I can't leave my kids at day care a little early/late to squeeze in a quick workout.  My son asks for PB & J for lunch every day & I have to either say no or exercise restraint in the face of one of my biggest trigger foods.  Everyday I have the free-&-easy schedule that causes many people to flounder on the weekends, where better choices might be easier in the stucture of a routine workday. 

My point: it's never "easier."  All I can do is make the best choices possble within the contstraints of my reality.  In any routine there are stumbling blocks & assists & obstacles & short cuts.  No matter what reality demands, it is hard to change a life steeped in bad habits, pre-concieved notions & a ravenous taste for Krispy Kreme.  Working, unemployed, stay-at-home, work-at-home: it's hard for us all, by gosh & by golly. 

And that is what caused me to get dirrty this morning.  Or was it the fact that I waved at the middle-aged guy that was clearly gawking at me as he drove by?  I figured I at least owed him a friendly wave since he had to have been sorely disappointed when he got close enough to see my paunchy mommy tummy, my flattened boobs & the delightful new flap of skin that rolls out from under my rump everytime I take a step.  Talk about dirrty.

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