For the year in review, one thing that makes me really happy is I’m starting this year thirty pounds lighter than I was this time last year. THIRTY POUNDS! Very exciting, except I learned an unfortunate lesson as a result: Just because you get back to your pre-baby weight, doesn’t mean you get your pre-baby body back. In other words, where the hell did my abs go, and whose boobs are these?????
I think I’ve mentioned that back when I met my husband we were both really fit exercise fanatics. Don’t confuse that statement with “I was skinny.” I’m never skinny by anyone’s definition. God couldn’t pick just one body type for me, evidently, so I actually have two of them. One on top of the other. I’m at once curvaceous and muscular. Really. Let me give you a visual in case you’re confused. On Halloween, with minimal effort I can pass for either a porn star or a linebacker, take your pick. And contrary to what my flat-chested friends think, this is not a blessing of any sort.
But I once did look much better than I do this morning. And this really annoys me. So much so that we have a semi-regular routine here that goes something like this:
Husband: (arrives home from work)
Me: (throw my arms around him and sob)
Husband: Are the kids ok?
Me: Yes. (sniff)
Husband: So you were looking at old pictures of your abs again?
Me: Yes! (sob)
But wait… I sound ungrateful, and I was just getting ready to tell you that my New Year’s Resolution is to do less complaining and more remembering how fortunate I am. Because seriously, I have a good life, and yet I whine and huff about the smallest inconveniences.
Like when my husband is driving. He day dreams (or something) when he’s driving to the point that if I followed the rules in that book The Surrendered Wife and refused to insult his manhood by pointing out every time he takes a wrong turn, is in the wrong lane, drives past our destination, etcetera, every time we leave the house we’d end up in a different state. As a result, we often drive in circles. The kids think we live four hours away from the nearest grocery store that’s actually two blocks over. Now my husband is not a fan of the “men prefer a stupid wife” theory, but he does sort of wish I’d shut the hell up when he’s driving now and then.
Last weekend as we were driving around in circles getting ready to go to the mountains, we had a few stops to make and discussed at length how we could make them most efficiently (ie how we could get them done as quickly as possible without having to unload and reload the kids into the car). On and on we went about what a drag it is to unload and reload the kids (all the while we turned around and around again and bickered about which was the simplest way to get where we were going)…
And then while I waited in the car with the kids while my husband ran into the store, I observed a woman in a wheel chair, alone with an infant, getting into a van. It took her a good ten minutes. When my husband came back I said, “You know, we really are very lucky… our life is so easy compared to so many people. We need to stop making such a big deal out of little things.”
(What is it with the tendency of people who don’t have any real crises in their lives to create a crisis out of every little thing anyway?)
He said, “I know, I’m lucky just to be healthy and strong.”
“Yes,” I answered, “And I’m lucky that I had two uneventful pregnancies/births and we have two healthy, strong, smart, gorgeous boys to show for them.”
“Yeah,” he said, “And I’m lucky I have a wife who’s a highly skilled driver from the passenger seat.”
Exactly. And I guess then that makes me lucky to have a husband who’s such a comedian?
Ah… my cup(s) runneth over. Happy New Year!