Here we have phase one:
The New Hair
This is how I have it styled today, but it can be styled in a number of different ways, so I think I will be having more fun with my hair (which is what a hairdresser is supposed to do, right?) than before.
Phase two: the new glasses. I should have those by next week.
Phase three: lose 15 pounds... Oh gee... I don't know when that'll happen...
Phase four: buy new pants/jeans to replace the old, worn out ones. (I could even replace the worn out tops as well.) You know you're going downhill when most of your pants are worn out either on the knees or in the crotch, and most of your nicest tops are worn out in the armpits or coming apart at the seams... Add to that the hair that hadn't been cut in 2 years, the saggy belly from just going through another pregnancy, the bags under the eyes from sleepless nights with a new-born... I think I looked just a little WORN out. (Hey! It's a pun!) My, how mothers can let themselves go!
Actually, though, I kind of liked letting myself go. It's the rebel in me... I'm the one who doesn't want to be like everyone else... The one who's proud of the out-of-date glasses, the five children trooping along behind her, the gasps when she affirms that "YES! they are all mine!", the toe ring, the long hippie hair... (OK, so even if I hadn't had the layers cut in, the hair DID need a trim...), the sling the baby's in that noone's ever seen the likes of before, hey! even the fact that she STILL goes to mass every Sunday is something to be proud of for this mama... (Note: she's not proud of the saggy belly. Hmmm, wonder why?) I guess I was just born to be different.
Or no, maybe it's because I just never fit in anywhere... The white catholic girl in the almost all-native, mostly protestant community, then the English-speaking girl in a French community, the Canadian in Paraguay... Have I ever fit in? Do I need to? Nah...
Well, having grown up in cultural adversity is probably what keeps me going now in the face of spiritual adversity. You see, I've already dealt with people making fun of me for being different. I can handle it. I haven't become the typical (these days) pro-choice, "love is all you need", catholic who doesn't believe you actually need the mass to be a good Catholic. As if real catholicism had nothing to do with mass. (No, of course not, Jesus was just talking in riddles when he said, at the last supper, "Do this is memory of me." He didn't really mean it like that.) Actually, sometimes I think; had I not been prepared for adversity from a young age, I might not even be Catholic anymore. That's a scary thought.
So, tell me this: How did the "go against the flow" girl end up with the "go with the flow" boy? I guess opposites really do attract.
This is how I have it styled today, but it can be styled in a number of different ways, so I think I will be having more fun with my hair (which is what a hairdresser is supposed to do, right?) than before.
Phase two: the new glasses. I should have those by next week.
Phase three: lose 15 pounds... Oh gee... I don't know when that'll happen...
Phase four: buy new pants/jeans to replace the old, worn out ones. (I could even replace the worn out tops as well.) You know you're going downhill when most of your pants are worn out either on the knees or in the crotch, and most of your nicest tops are worn out in the armpits or coming apart at the seams... Add to that the hair that hadn't been cut in 2 years, the saggy belly from just going through another pregnancy, the bags under the eyes from sleepless nights with a new-born... I think I looked just a little WORN out. (Hey! It's a pun!) My, how mothers can let themselves go!
Actually, though, I kind of liked letting myself go. It's the rebel in me... I'm the one who doesn't want to be like everyone else... The one who's proud of the out-of-date glasses, the five children trooping along behind her, the gasps when she affirms that "YES! they are all mine!", the toe ring, the long hippie hair... (OK, so even if I hadn't had the layers cut in, the hair DID need a trim...), the sling the baby's in that noone's ever seen the likes of before, hey! even the fact that she STILL goes to mass every Sunday is something to be proud of for this mama... (Note: she's not proud of the saggy belly. Hmmm, wonder why?) I guess I was just born to be different.
Or no, maybe it's because I just never fit in anywhere... The white catholic girl in the almost all-native, mostly protestant community, then the English-speaking girl in a French community, the Canadian in Paraguay... Have I ever fit in? Do I need to? Nah...
Well, having grown up in cultural adversity is probably what keeps me going now in the face of spiritual adversity. You see, I've already dealt with people making fun of me for being different. I can handle it. I haven't become the typical (these days) pro-choice, "love is all you need", catholic who doesn't believe you actually need the mass to be a good Catholic. As if real catholicism had nothing to do with mass. (No, of course not, Jesus was just talking in riddles when he said, at the last supper, "Do this is memory of me." He didn't really mean it like that.) Actually, sometimes I think; had I not been prepared for adversity from a young age, I might not even be Catholic anymore. That's a scary thought.
So, tell me this: How did the "go against the flow" girl end up with the "go with the flow" boy? I guess opposites really do attract.
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