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I Love Me Some Me

Two professional women: both married with kids and both juggling clients, reports, potty training, packed lunches, chores, dogs, cats, errands, husbands and …”what was that you said? SEX?”
That three-letter word that once was so frequent, so liberating, so yummy has been sidelined in a sea of life, work and snot.
It is time.
Time to put sex back on a pedestal by injecting some extra spice into our relationships.

I Love Me Some Me

I often have the dream that I’m in college again. It’s the last day before finals and I realize I have neither gone to class nor completed a single assignment since the first day of school. I was the only white girl in TAG AP Calculus my senior year of high school (I’m pretty proud of that), but I could hardly do simple algebra after four years of liberal arts classes. So, the class in my dream is always College Math. Not algebra, I regressed all the way back to generic “math”.

Looking back at the missions tonight, I realize I am a living Mission: Do It college dream. I tried to make-up some assignments last year, but for the most part, still have yet to complete most of the semester’s coursework. And as for writing the reports for each assignment, good luck with that.

ESPECIALLY since four kids and a full time job apparently means you’ll be busy – that is if you actually try to take care of them from time to time instead of placing the seven-year-old in charge. Combine the four toads with the fact that Mr. Lee and I see each other for one hour at night before he leaves for work, and not at all most mornings, and I’m screwed. Actually, I guess that’s not true. I’m f… Nevermind.

But, I did recently complete a mission. Booyah! And, Mr. Lee is more willing to touch me now that the IUD is in place. Double booyah!

Mission 39 was inspired by the Yeez himself and his beloved KK. The whole idea of body image has been on my mind recently – in part because I received a note from one of our two readers that isn’t my mom. She wanted me to address the topic of feeling confident about your body when your partner has made you feel less than stellar about it.

I expected her to, like me, be lamenting not being 30 pounds lighter. But, she actually was bothered by her man’s apparent preference for “healthy” girls despite her slight frame. And that got me thinking about my own self image.

I’m pretty proud of some things about me – like the fact that I was once grouped with the super smart kids, that I’m pretty good in the kitchen, that my kids are great friends with each other, and that since I was once upon a time blonde, my hair “lifts” great when my gal at Michael Raymond colors it. I’m less proud of other things – I don’t floss, I pop my baby’s whiteheads, I pick restaurants based on the quality of their fountain coke, and I get a nice indent across my midsection anytime I wear anything with a waist. I’ve been known to ask friends if they describe me as “chubby” when they explain what I look like to other people. At least until one friend said, “No, I say you’re blonde.” Thank you Kelly at Michael Raymond!

So, it’s hard to think of watching myself do it less than six months after having Lee 4, who Mr. Lee affectionately calls “Fat Man of the Americas”. Luckily, Fat Man has given me a boost – not just in that I have moved from “muffin top” to “exploded can of biscuits”. My usually small B’s are actually full B’s thanks to his healthy appetite for boob juice. I know that’s not big, but every little bit counts when you’re countering this bread dough belly.

And because I know they will deflate once I wean him (at 48 months perhaps?), I take every opportunity to push them together and show them off to Mr. Lee. Sadly, he often goes to fondle them, to which I slap his hand away and say, “Don’t touch them, they hurt!”

It was on one of these occasions that I made some cleavage, which still requires I force my shoulders together, in the mirror above my bed. And the most amazing thing happened – I thought I was sexy. So sexy, in fact, that I let Mr. Lee touch them, made my “mirror face” and did it – turned on the whole time by how great I looked doing it. I loved me some me.

In the movie “Eat, Pray, Love”, there’s a scene where Julia Roberts’ character’s friend (who is still a size 2) is lamenting her muffin top. Julia’s character asks (and I paraphrase), “In your entire life, has a man ever pointed out your flaws when you were naked? Of course not! He’s hit the jackpot – he’s in the room with a naked woman.”

If we remember that and love ourselves physically – forgiving our perceived “flaws”- I think we’ll all find that when our heart is filled with love, others will love us too.

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