As a teenager I would stand at my bedroom mirror with a copy of Seventeen magazine propped up so I could see step-by-step how to style my hair with one of their umpteen “Get Gorgeous” or “Hot Hair” tutorials. I’m not sure why I remember one issue in particular.  Maybe it’s because  I spent a great deal of time modeling my ‘do after a model’s in that issue.  Alicia Silverstone was on the cover.

Ah!  There it is.  Thanks Google.

July, 1995.  That would have been a month before my 14th birthday and two months before I started high school.  I bet I had watched reruns of MTV Spring Break that day.  I wonder if I logged on to my America Online account that morning before ballet class?  Probably.  I no doubt took magazine quizzes to find out my dating style, even though I had never been on an actual date.  Basically, I was at the height of my adolescent insecurity and unknowingly headed straight for full-on teen angst and a diagnosed eating disorder in another year-and-a-half.

I think I remember trying for something new that summer.  I was headed for a new school, high school, so obviously a new hairstyle was in order.  No matter how many times I pulled my turquoise and magenta paddle brush through my hair, I couldn’t get it just right.  I would frown and say something to my reflection like, “Ugh!  I hate my hair!”  I slammed the magazine shut and stared at Alicia Silverstone in all her mid-nineties coolness.

Whenever the issue of beauty magazines and women’s body image comes up, I think of that issue of Seventeen.

Fast-forward 17 years to the other night.  I went through the Health and Fitness part of Pinterest to get some inspiration for working out and shedding a few holiday pounds.  Later, I stood at the bathroom mirror with my iPad propped against the mirror, trying to do my hair like a woman in a Pinterest hair tutorial.  I stared at my 31-year-old reflection, getting further frustrated that I suck at elegant loose fishtail braids.  Instantly Alicia Silverstone popped in my mind.  I looked at myself and shook my head loose of my attempted braid.

I thought of my two-year-old daughter and my pledge to not obsess over weight and appearance.  Yeah, I weigh more now than I ever have now that I have a desk job, but I’m healthy.  My husband and I  decided awhile ago not to describe people as “fat”, “skinny”, “chunky”, or “chubby” around our daughter there’s really no reason for it.

Just then she came in.  She was giggling and proudly showing me her full belly after dinner.  I closed my Pinterest app and scooped her up.  I said to her.  “Charlotte, you are so beautiful!  You have a beautiful, strong, healthy body.  Do you love your body?”  She smiled and said, “Ya! Lob my bodee!”  I smiled and instantly dismissed all the negative things I think about my appearance.  Whether it was 1995 Seventeen magazine or 2013 Pinterest, it seemed silly and I scaled back my weight loss resolutions.  I said “Mama loves her body too!”

When my due date came and went and I was still pregnant, I lost my mind.  I seriously read EVERYTHING about inducing labor naturally.  Foods, sex, bouncing on an exercise ball, walking, Evening Primrose Oil, you name it.  I was a woman on a mission.  I was HAVING this baby within the week.  41 weeks suddenly became a very long time.  There was one thing that I did that I never wrote about here.  Today, I found myself talking to my pregnant coworker and I had flashbacks.

I did two acupuncture sessions to try to induce labor.

October 2010. I’m starting to forget I ever looked like this.

I checked with the OB who gave me the all clear.  I think her exact words were, “‘It can’t hurt.  Tell me how it works for you.”  I think whoever answered the phones at these two acupuncture places could hear the exhaustion and exasperation in my voice when I begged them for appointments.  When I got to the first place I had to fill out a bunch of paperwork.  I think I ended up just paying for it instead of filing insurance claim forms to see if my PPO would cover it.  I was too tired to care.

At one of the places I got to lay on this massage table that had a net cut out of the middle of it so my belly could hang down and I could lay on my stomach.  Heaven!  It was AMAZING!  Anyone 7-9 months pregnant should get to lay on one of those.  Ahhhh!

It was what happened at the first place that was the most…um…moving.  The guy told me about all the spots on the body where they would put needles.  He explained there were certain acupuncture locations for labor induction.  The places were on my hands and my ankles.  It only hurt a little.  He attached little electrodes to them and turned on the machine.  My muscles twitched and my skin stung.  The baby stirred.   I asked him to turn it down a bit.  He did and left the room.

Ugh!  Oh no.  A wave of nausea came over me.  Keep in mind I went 40 weeks without throwing up.  Not once.  I was queasy in the First Trimester, for sure, but never puked.  I sure wasn’t going to let it happen now.  I yelled, “Um!  Excuse me!”  Thankfully the doctor wasn’t too far away and rushed in.  “I need to go to the bathroom!”  He unplugged me.  Fortunately I made it on time to poop.  (Why I got nauseous I’ll never know.) The acupuncturist enthusiastically told me this was good and that my energy was headed downward.

No shit.

Wait, no.  Yes shit.

The only needle that induced labor for me was the one attached to the IV of Pitocin a week later.

Since I’ve been getting all Auld Lang Syney around here, I’ll update you on another little goal for 2013.

We’re ditching the diapers this year.  Yep, Santa Claus brought Charlotte some big girl panties.  I figured finding them in her stocking would bring some enthusiasm.  She’s been doing okay, but we’ haven’t been hard-core potty training yet.  She freakin’ loves her Pull-Ups.  I’m now convinced Pull-Ups are just more expensive, glorified diapers.   I think they had to be invented by the same marketing a-hole that started putting kid cereals on the lower shelves of the supermarket, right at preschoolers’ eye level to torture parents into buying high-fructose corn syrup nuggets disguised as breakfast.

Anyway, we started with panties after I washed them at Christmas.  The panties enthusiasm was so strong it backfired on me.  She wanted to change to a different design EVERY time, even if she kept them clean and dry.  It became a holiday panties fashion show.  In her mind, why keep them clean if you have to wear the same ones?  Why not wear Elmo panties now, pee in them, then wear princess panties later?

Panties for EVERYONE!  See…

These are clean. No, the dog is not wearing any.

Today marked the day we would start potty training for real at school.  Her teachers have potty trained hundreds of kids and know what they’re doing.  They put the kid in underwear and take them to the potty every 15-30 minutes on the dot.  Pull-Ups go back on for nap time.  I brought her in a Pull-Up to the class.  Charlotte proudly took her panties into the classroom and showed them to her friends.  This is a big deal in the Twos Class, lemme tell ya.  The kids oohed and aahed over her stack of 2T drawers.  Charlotte beamed as she rushed straight to the potty with her teacher, tugging her pants to replace the Pull-Up with her beloved panties.  I figure this is the only time it’s appropriate to show off her underwear for the whole class.

Only 2 accidents.  Not too shabby for the first day.  I’m really starting to appreciate my own underwear, and potty-training teachers.

Yes, this is a resolution post.  It’s January 2nd for pete’s sake!  It was either write this blog post or go to the gym where I would have to wait an hour for an elliptical machine.  “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”  So let’s just go with it, shall we?

I heard it said recently that “goals not written down are just wishes.” So true!  Some of my goals for 2013 are very personal, others mundane.  I won’t bother you with them here, but I wrote them down elsewhere.  I’m not wishing 2013 away.  “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”  (Wait, I’m starting to think that reference too 2012.  You think?)

Anyway, I read a lot of blogs today about resolutions, or choosing a single word that describes a theme for the year 2013.  I’ve come up with my word.

Question

Yep, as in asking questions.  Instead of resolutions, I’m asking questions.  Everyday I will ask myself this series of questions.  I made most of them open ended.  For example, I’m not going to ask myself, “Did you eat healthy today?’  But, instead I will ask, “What healthy food choices did you make today.”  It forces me to think about my decisions.  Here is my list of daily questions for 2013.

• What did you thank God for in your prayers today?
• What did you do today to show Greyson and Charlotte you love and appreciate them?
• When did you pet the dog?
• What did you do at work that accomplished a task or showed leadership?
• What step did you take to make your blog better?
• How many blogs did you comment on today?
• What healthy foods did you eat?
• How did you get exercise today?
• What junk did you get out of your car?

Is this a good idea?  Do you think I can do it?  Should I add to this list?  What questions are you asking  yourself in 2013?

I haven’t written since Christmas, and even then I didn’t really write.  I’ve just enjoyed my vacation.  It was a week of uninterrupted time with family and friends and exactly what our little family needed.  No work, no blogging.  It was really fantastic.  Do it if you can.

It could be the excitement of having Christmas with a 2-year-old that made this year special, but that’s not all of it.  I can’t put my finger on one thing that made it fantastic.  It was every little moment.  I think we have to go back before our actual vacation, to the week before Thanksgiving.

• That is when we took Charlotte to her first Christmas parade and the Santa mania began.  She didn’t even want to sit in her wagon.  Nope, only our shoulders would do.  She wanted to see everything.

• During Thanksgiving she watched her first Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  She couldn’t wait for the Sesame Street float while she sat on her Sesame Street potty.  Greyson and I laughed and laughed at our little naked baby.

• Charlotte ran to Santa and gave him a hug.  She asked him for a baby doll.

• One night in December, Greyson and I had a date night to see Raleigh’s famous version of “A Christmas Carol.”  My former colleague and great friend, Mark played Nephew Fred.  I was so proud I teared up.  When the cast ran into the audience as part of the performance, he found us and hugged us.
• Another night I had a girls night at “The Nutcracker” I told all of you about.
• We got an extra special treat when Greyson’s parents surprised us and flew in from Colorado the weekend before Christmas.  They got to give Charlotte her new kitchen set.
• I got together with my friends from my old dance company growing up since everyone was in town for the holidays.  Some still dance.  For others like me, competitions, recitals, bleeding toes and tutus are all part of a past life.  It was exciting to catch up with them and plan dance days for our own daughters.  

• I also got to meet up with friends from high school.  It was like herding cats for Meagan, Megan and myself to keep track of our two-year-olds.  I love seeing old friends from the past and seeing their life successes.  It does my heart good.  For me, when I look at old friends I see the 17-year-old me, forever preserved in them.

• Santa came!  Her beloved baby doll was in her arms.

• We traveled to my Grandparents houses for a little extended-family time.  Charlotte has not stopped talking about her second cousins Lana, Emma, and Willow.

• New Years Eve we went downtown to Raleigh’s First Night celebration.  We drop an acorn because we’re the City of Oaks.  It’s silly, we know, but it’s our thing here in the Capital City.  We went to the 7:00pm Acorn Drop for children.  This was Charlotte’s first and she couldn’t have been more delightful.  If she kissed us once, it was a million times.  I teared up singing Auld Lang Syne at 7:01pm.  I was that ridiculously happy with my bundled-up little family.

 

Quick sidenote:  This holiday I realized how often I use my Instagram.  (Duh! See above post.  Half these pics are IG.) Seriously.  It’s as much as I use Twitter and Facebook.  I’ve had my account for about 1 1/2 years.  I was shocked at BlogHer ’12 how many bloggers I recognized from Instagram.  Therefore, I’m keeping my account even though many are jumping ship because of all the drama.  I’m considering watermarking my pics.  I dunno.  I just don’t want to worry about it.  Anyway, let me know what you decided.  Let me know if I’m not following you!