moosh in indy.

March 5, 2010

Just in case you had any preconceived notions that I am practically perfect in every way, I assure you I’m not.

My thighs are riddled with stretch marks and lumpy bumpies. I am covered in freckles in strange places. My face is covered with ruptured capillaries from severe vomiting while pregnant over five years ago. The skin under my chin is beginning to resemble that of a rooster. Without contacts I am twice legally blind, my two front teeth are fake and the rest of them are mottled from too much fluoride as a kid. My nose is big, my tongue is bigger, my upper lip is crooked with a scar from falling on my face as a child. I have chicken pock scars in strange places since I didn’t get the pox until I was 14. My knees are chubby, I have a big pink scar in my really deep bellybutton. My little toes point inward, my thumbs bend backwards I am capable of growing a unibrow, four chest hairs, three neck hairs, a sprinkle of whiskers and a shadow of a mustache. Don’t even get me started on the nipple hair. My hair is still recovering from PCOS where I started to go bald and when I look in the mirror all I can see is under eye bags and blotchy skin. My forehead wrinkles too much when I show emotion and I still get asked if my parents are home when I answer the phone. And while it’s only temporary my middle fingernail on my left hand is black from being smashed in a door.

To make matters worse? I found my first gray hair yesterday.

I still don’t even know how to properly apply makeup.

I have thighs I can wrap around my husband. I am covered in freckles that remind me of times I have spent in the sunshine. My face is beginning to show laugh lines rather than frown lines. The skin under my chin is one of Cody’s favorite parts on me. Without contacts my eyes are just as blue, I have never had a cavity. My nose can sniff out my favorite parts on my baby, my tongue has been passed down to my daughter and my lips are always up for kissing. I have chicken pock scars that remind me of my eighth grade year and my first boyfriend. I have knees to pray on, and scars from lessons learned. My feet helped me dance for nearly half my life and I passed my curly hair to Addie. When I look in the mirror I see a mom, a wife and a friend. My forehead wrinkles up when I smile and I can make Cody and my mom laugh harder than anyone. And even though my middle finger was smashed it can still type out my thoughts and put on Polly Pocket’s stretchy clothes of death.

It’s still too fresh to find something worthwhile about the gray hair though.

Comments off.

This? You? Fabulous.

You are awesome. And perfectly flawed. We all are… thanks for the beautiful reminder!

You are beautiful and you are loved with an everlasting love. Thank you for sharing and embrace it all Baby!

The gray just lets people know that you’re serious, because otherwise you’re just oh so cute when you say serious things!

The whole front of my head is covered with white hairs. Covered. I blame my kids.

I love you times infinity. For all this and more. I miss you terribly, my friend.

Loved this!!

I don’t know what to say about the gray hair except, welcome to the club.

I’ll be you ten bucks my belly button is deeper than yours.

Casey Reply:
March 6th, 2010 at 1:42 am

@Overflowing Brain (Katie), I still had an innie nine months pregnant and can fit four to five jelly bellys.

Heather has my address for my $10.

Overflowing Brain (Katie) Reply:
March 6th, 2010 at 1:43 am

@Casey, I can easily fit more than 4-5 jelly bellys in there. And I shall, tomorrow.

And Heather has MY address for MY ten bucks.

Delurking to thank you. It’s time to rethink the image in my mirror.

Ps. First grey? 23rd birthday. Ms. Clairol and I are BFF!

What a beautiful post! You are such a great role model for your daughter.

Personally, I think you’re gorgeous. And smart, too.

Yes, yes, it’s all a matter of perspective.

And the first gray hair? Tweezers… and it’s gone!

You are too cute. Thanks for the reminder that there’s more to us than what we see in the mirror. I got my first gray hair at 17, so I have not an ounce of sympathy there.

I had the chicken pox late too – and have the scars to prove it! Ugh, that was the worst!

I’m jealous of your innie-button though!

listen I found a gray pubic hair the other day and I’m not even 40!! I have yet to find anything redeeming about THAT little find!

I don’t have the odd gray hair….mine are PLATINUM!!!!!

My daughter says it’s worth more than gold or silver

What a fabulously beautiful post.

And hot knees are SO overrated IMO.

I love this. You’re fabulous.

I’m 30 and my gray count went from 1 to 8, last week. I console myself with the knowledge that my best friend has been gray-speckled for years. I’ve come to terms with nearly everything else, so it shouldn’t be too hard to remind myself that as my kindergartener thinks I am the fount of all knowledge, such wisdom must be paid for somehow. It is the price of my Magical Mom Powers, and I’m OK with that.

I’m older than you (34), and I have about 5 or 6 gray hairs. One of them fell out in the shower the other day, and I seriously freaked out. Because you know that means that 10 more are gonna come to its funeral. Sigh.

Thank you for this post. It’s beautiful.

I have no gray hairs. But my husband – oh, watch out.

My claim to fame is that I can tuck/hide pencils under my breast. I don’t think you can do that.

I am working very hard to remind myself that my belly with NEVER be flat because it grew three babies.

One day I will get there.

I LOVE this post.

The gray hair? It’s called silver. And it sparkles. How can you go wrong with that?

Besides, it gives me a greater excuse to go red. Or blond. Or purple.

My bellybutton is a freakishly deep inny, too.

You’re going to rock that grey hair!

I’m 26 with a head FULL of gray hair. The good that comes from them are 1) the option to try out different hair colors when you’re buying dye every month 2) it’s like a super blond highlight. Hello! Totally saves money on the highlighting job!

You are amazing.

Also, no need to worry until it’s a gray nipple hair.

… I started graying at 16. My friends would try to pluck them out during History class in High School my Senior year. They were always amazed how quickly they grew back! I am now 21 and continue to dye my jet black hair to keep it “Naturally” black.. Oh Gray hairs.. I just like to think that in some aspect of my life I am gaining much needed wisdom, because after all I equate Gray haired people as people being full of Wisdom and years of experience!

My boobs were replaced with those of old tribal women in documentaries as a result of child birth.
But look how seriously cute and brilliant my child is? Life is so darn worth it, every scar = a story. wow.

LOL< I have much of this as well. Ill be 30 this year and things change. I have been thinking about blogging on it as well. The funny thing is we see this most other do not while looking at us. I have been working on finding new ways to love this new slef. Great post and great to meet you:) Cat
http://catherineanne5.blogspot.com/

You’re beautiful, don’t ever forget that. I also have PCOS and have only been blessed with one beautiful Lily Bug. That doesn’t make you less, it makes them more.

I have way more facial hair than a chick should, I have to think about standing up straight (so if you see me not doing so tell me so I can focus again) and well….I am starting to get down.

:O)

I have completely skipped grey hair and am loosing my hair due to stress at 24 years old. I wish I had grey hair I could just dye.

I love this post. What good reminder of how physical traits make us who we are.

If it makes you feel any better I have found 3 gray hairs in the last while. I think it is one that just keeps coming back. That is what I am telling myself anyway.

This is why the Aveda salon and I are BFF.

Also, stop using that damn magnifying glass on yourself. No good! NO GOOD, I tell you.

I had four gum grafts last April. Yesterday, I learned that I have a bit of recession on one of those teeth again. The doctor says not to worry, but my suspicion is that the retainers I still (!) wear are to blame. I’m going back to the doctor in a couple of weeks for him to check.

If it is the retainer, I don’t know what I’ll do. If I don’t wear the retainer, my front teeth will get crooked. (Believe me, if I could avoid wearing a retainer at 35 — next week — I would.) If I wear the retainers, my gums may become a problem. Again.

Oh, I’ve been seeing this orthodontist for 20 years this summer. We moved back to Georgia around June 20. The orthodontist was pretty much our first stop. But I digress.

Why do we get ourselves so in knots about our bodies? My gums receding COULD really cause a problem. But so many body flaws (like crooked teeth if I stop wearing my retainer) aren’t a big deal. Yet, I fret, too. Sigh.

Thank you for listening.

So good! I love your writing.
(I got chicken pox when I was 14, too.)

I think you are beautiful. Inside and out.

You are beautiful.
I love you for who you are.
Everyone has imperfections. That’s how God made us, and what makes you unique.

This post is like air on a day when I am drowning. Thanks, love.

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