Friday, April 29, 2011

She's Got Legs

It's funny, life. I was feeling all old and sad yesterday because my eldest son turned ten. Of course in typical "me" fashion, I was making it all about me. How I'm not old enough to have a ten year old, and how he's growing up too fast and pulling away from me, becoming his own person. I know, poor me?

After I'd picked up the big kids from school, I was strapping the little guy into his car seat and I heard, "Hey! Nice legs!". I didn't look around or anything, not thinking much of it.

Until he persisted. "Hey! Hey you! The mom!"

I looked around, pointed at myself and said, "Me?"

He was hanging out the window of his school bus. "Yeah, you. Nice legs! You've got nice legs!" Then he immediately hauled himself back in and put his window up.

So Mama's not so old and decrepit after all, if 8 year old future milf hunters feel the need to comment on my physical attributes. Also, I guess I no longer have to cruise by the high school to find potential cougar prey if the elementary school will do.

Oh yeah, I've still got it.

That's all,



Thursday, April 21, 2011

River Queen Rollin' On

I started my second season of roller derby on Sunday. I know that I'd meant to write more about it during last season but like anything you love this much, you want to protect it. To foster it and keep it safe from the rest of the world, while simultaneously wanting to shout from mountain tops about your love for it. Yet no words could ever come close to the actual reality.

Nov24 KDG

That, my friends, is how much I love roller derby.

As someone who has always felt weak in my personal life, being able to put on some skates (and knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, helmet and the dreaded mouth guard), to get out there and have the chance to be strong and to be aggressive... The feeling is indescribable. I can't count the number of ways that derby has changed me.

I've never been athletic, to put it mildly. I'm a "lay down and read a book" person. Oh, the lengths I went to in order to evade my dreaded nemesis: sweat. I have sweat so much during practice that I've had rivulets rolling down my butt crack, y'all. And I didn't mind! I've worked out so hard that I had to swallow down puke. I've strained *parts* that I didn't even know were possible to strain. I've been bruised, bloody, aching, muscles shaking, parched, thinking that I couldn't possibly continue on... but I've kept going. I've given it one more lap, one more plank, one more drill, more, more, more. A hard way to find out that you're a fighter, but a lesson well learned.

I've always been self-conscious of my "thunder thighs", my "mothering hips", my broad shoulders, thought I had too much booty. I've referred to my body type as "chunky hourglass", I've abused it, have taken it for granted, have not cared about it as I should. But you know what? My thighs are strong for skating. My hips and ass are perfect for blocking and for pushing other bitches out of my way. My shoulders can carry a lot of weight both literally and figuratively. How is it that I made it to the age of 31 and am only now figuring out that I can be positive about my body and not only just accept it, but celebrate it?

This body is a temple now. I feed it right, I stretch it, I exercise more than just my brain and my mouth, I take what could be considered a meal of vitamins every day to make sure that my bones are strong for when they impact with the concrete floors that I skate on. Heck, I'm even ex-foliating and moisturizing more often! This body is going to last me for the rest of my life, God-willing, and it's going to be involved in roller derby for as long as it can keep up.

So you can maybe begin to understand now, how good I feel and how I want to just keep that to myself for a while before I let other people in?

That's all, (but there's so much more)



Monday, April 4, 2011

The House That Built Me

My first house was put on the real estate market today. I have mixed feelings about this; I'm ready to move on, I'm ready to not be paying the bills there plus the bills where I am currently living. I will feel peace in knowing that there is yet another loose end that I'm tying into a neat little bow. Still, I can't help feel a little twinge of melancholy.

That house was the dream of a 23 year old spoiled princess. My small family of three moved in when I was full of idealistic folly with no real concept of homemaking whatsoever. How long it took me to learn how to manage laundry, toddler wrangling, scrubbing toilets and how not to turn everything in your pots and pans to sludge with one moment of inattention? Oh, the glamourous life of a House Milf! How many hours did I spend doing loads of laundry, bleary-eyed but accompanied by an OCD-like precision with an all-consuming fierceness in regards to wrinkle control? It took me years to be able to feel like I wasn't just "playing house".

Two of my babies were conceived and took their first steps there. The growth of my three boys was charted on one of the walls for seven long years. Cupcakes, dance parties, organic vegetable and herb gardens, wine and tea and always, always a place to stay for a stray friend in need for as long as was necessary. Every wall, every door, every patch of floor has its own story. The house that love built.

It's also the house of pain. The house of loneliness so crippling that even certain members of The Wiggles appeared to be sexually attractive. The house of unhappiness, of immaturity, of two people struggling and failing. It's also the house where love went to die.

I'm ready to pass my house on. Furthermore, after standing empty for nearly nine months, my house is ready to be loved again; to contain and foster love within its walls. The house that built me is ready to build another family. Our blood, sweat and tears can now become someone else's dream.

I went in wide-eyed and with a great belief in forever. I am coming out not quite a seasoned veteran, and still not yet jaded. My eyes are wide-open, sure; just not with the same naiveté. I still have a great hope for the future, it's just that I'm looking in a different direction. It feels good.

That's all,