i preface this story by saying that it is a gorgeous saturday. i woke up in a lovely, calm mood. helen and i french pressed some coffee before she headed off to work, and i began to loaf about the house.
i put on a tank top and some comfy cotton (walgreens special) pants. lalala i caught up on blogs, read the week, and bathed an unenthusiastic charley. we listened to snow patrol and sufjan stevens, an abc order shuffle.
a little while ago, i decided that it was time i get on with my day. there are errands to be run and words to be written out of doors. i checked myself out in the bathroom mirror, and miraculously, today is a skinny day: no double chin, an adequately flat tummy under my shirt, and twinkly eyes to boot. i was fit for duty.
and so, with fear and trepidation, fueled with skinny day confidence, i approached the closet, wherein lurk the jeans of truth.
a formerly comfortable pair of size sixes, there are hand-me-downs from helen, who no longer fits into them. i emphasize the word "formerly", because, since a. quitting starbucks and b. my sprained ankle debacle, they've grown progressively tighter and tighter.
surely, they would fit today.
surely.
i stepped one foot in, then the other, and pulled. everything was going well until the jeans approached my womanly hips, where they got stuck. however, i would not be deterred. i began to yank. they wouldn't budge. i lay down on the bed, and did the inch worm squirm, as charley tried to lick my head. success! they buttoned! i sat up. they came undone. i repeated the process until i was able to button and zip them.
i waddled stiffly into the bathroom, and sized myself up in the mirror. what had happened to my adequately flat belly from an hour before? was it the granola bar? somehow, a new belly had taken over my person; i was now the proud owner of a fat tire hanging capriciously over the jeans. furthermore, i couldn't breathe. my eyes lost their twinkle.
needless to say, i peeled off the hideous pants, and hung them in the far back of the closet, where they belong. i put on a bigger sized pair, but they too are tighter than usual. i conceded the battle; i'm wearing them anyway.
i would like to think that i've grown more comfortable with my body, or at least diplomatic. and i can be, momentarily anyway. but. i am far from capable of an intimate, unconditional love relationship. my belly and i are sisters who don't like each other very much. i get panicky, she decides to get nauseous. i get bold under the delusion of a skinny day, she decides that she'd rather not fit into the jeans of truth. she is a bitch, really.
have you ever tried to saddle up an obstinate horse? dakota would always stand there nonchalantly, and let me do my thing. i'd pull the strap tight, give the saddle a test tug: perfect. however, my horse would have puffed out his belly, only letting out the air with a long sigh as soon as i put my foot in the stirrup to mount. the saddle would slide sideways, and i'd end up on my ass.
my belly is a stubborn mare.
even now, she is staring up at me from underneath my tanktop, and i don't appreciate the face she's making. such contempt.
well, whether she likes it or not, we've got things to do today, and i can't wear my walmart specials forever. so there.
Posted by bananie at June 25, 2005 11:26 AM | TrackBackGod you're good.
my belly says hi. I couldn't fit into ANYTHING today. x
Oh my! How I laugh in understanding! I have baby belly, which is trying to settle in permanently. Last year, though, I decided I would TRY not to complain about my body. I decided I would try to say this mantra every morning (repeat after me): "I am a beautiful woman with a beautiful body. I am exactly how God made me." Listen to the sisters. We're all saying it together. Do you feel the grace?
Posted by: Lisa Connor at June 26, 2005 10:34 PM