Boobs. Because...Boobs!

My boobs are a travesty.

It took me a good long while to figure out what my first sentence back at the keyboard should be.  A whimsical lamentation about something frivolous seemed like the perfect way to show myself that I'm still me.  I still have a voice.  I still have my meager wit.  I still like to poke fun.  I just don't have a killer rack anymore.  And the Earth, it keeps a-spinning.

A lot has changed over the past couple of years.  My tiny, blobby baby is a busy toddler & my "big" kids are going to be in First Grade & pre-K in the Fall.  I may or may not have a latent health condition that will rear its ugly head when I let my guard down.  I started watching "Game of Thrones."  I don't want to use artificial or highly processed foods to fuel my body.   My hubby took a new job that is more demanding of his time but so worth it in his job satisfaction.  My hair turned really dark brown.  I quit Weight Watchers.  I joined a shiny new gym.  I became obsessed with reducing my family's waste.  I stopped caring about reducing the size of my waist.  I thought about learning to knit--but then I remembered that I don't like crafts.

Somewhere in all of these changes I realized that I'm not the same person that I was two, three or four years ago--so I need to stop expecting myself to act like I am.  I spent a lot of time comparing myself to my prior post-baby timeline.  I spent a lot of time wishing that magical thinking would make everything the same (or better).  I lost 100 lbs in one year a couple of years ago.  That's neat, but I don't have to do it again to be successful & I don't owe anyone an apology for things not being the same.  I'm not the same, even though I'm still me.  And that is an empowering revelation.

I can still make with the funny about gravity's ever-increasing pull on my ta-tas.  I can still have highs & lows.  But they WILL be different.  The weight isn't coming off as smoothly as it did the last time.  I'm not as singularly focused on making it so.  It's not rocket science, it's just life & I need to get to a head space where I stop putting my past self on a pedestal & start putting my current self back in the game.  The new game.  With a better bra because National Geographic is for real life, folks.