Mar 11, 2011

My Secret Pride

I found my first gray hair last week.  What I mean is the first gray hair on my mane.  A couple of months ago I found a maverick eyebrow.  I plucked it and found it was gray.  A few months before that I noticed that the coarse black hairs I hate so much that grow from moles were no longer black.  My first gray hair showed up about three years ago and was further south.  That's all the detail I'll give.

The gray hair joins the litany of my middle age complaints.  Sagging skin on my jowls.  Wrinkles. Soft middle scarred with stretch marks like cat scratches.  Holding my books farther and farther from my eyes.  What's next?  Chorister arms?  Hip replacement?  A housedress?

Deep down, though, I'm pretty proud of my body.  It certainly isn't the model skinny you see on the front of magazines but it has done some amazing things.

May 26, 2005.  The day I stopped loving Tom Cruise.  That is the day he slammed Brooke Shields for publicly announcing her reaction to postpartum depression.  She chose medication.  Gasp!  Since then I've felt nothing but contempt for the man who has never had his body rewired while internal organs are pushed aside and changes in hormonal balance makes you cry because the cat coughed up a hairball. 

On this particular day, my own body was waging a war with itself, having pushed a person the size of a pot roast through a hole the size of a nostril, and for some mysterious reason, my previously aesthetically pleasing breasts became as hard as granite were leaking sustenance for a child that was wholly dependent on me.  No amount of positive thinking was going to magically restore my sleep deprived, physically rewired body.  Nope. Instead I did what any sane woman would do. 

I painted the family room.  And the kitchen.  And the entry.   

To this day, I can't properly articulate my manic response to giving birth.  I can only sit back, sigh and enjoy the ambiance of the colors. 

What I can articulate is that this body has been stretched, pushed, pulled, and used in ways I could never truly imagine until I did it.  My hormones waged a war within me causing me to reject all forms of nutrition for 8 long months four times, burst into tears for no apparent reason, leak milk from my husband's previous toys and paint faux leather on a wall or two using a cloth and different paint combinations.  

But ultimately, I might whine about my body's changes and aging process.  The truth is that I am secretly very, very proud of what my body has done.




13 comments:

Keep Your Sunny Side Up said...

As you should be, proud that is.

Lisa Page Rosenberg said...

High five, mama.

M-Cat said...

Love your approach and outlook. I still openly curse my children for ruining my body and since they are boys and I can't wish the same to them, I just repeatedly walk around in my G's so as to scar them forever.

Mom of the year aware - right here

June Freaking Cleaver said...

That kind of pride shouldn't be secret...let your light shine!

Tonia said...

Ahhhh, this was sweet. In a weird, Taylor sort of way. (Taylor is your last name...right?)

Lisa @ Pulsipher Page said...

Yep, I agree. We women are pretty awesome.
I used to call those lone gray hairs- wild hairs. It sounded way more fun to be wild then old and gray.

Time4Mommy said...

I found my first grey hair the other day too.... :( It happens to all of us if we're lucky.

Heidi said...

Well gee, when you put it that way......

Dysfunctional Mom said...

I'm right there with you with the gray hairs, the jowls, the wrinkles....and the pride.
Wonderful post!

Matty said...

A job well done. Be proud of yourself.

Klin said...

Awesome post!

That was the day I decided Tom Cruise was crazy and he has only proved me right since.

Mrs. Tuna said...

I just keep comparing myself to those same aged defendents on Judge Judy and know I'm holding up better than them.

smartinmartin said...

Ah sigh, this post made big fat tears stream down my face as I am currently a hormonal mess myself, almost 8 months after the birth of my first child. I am just now finding the pride in my scars and remolded stomach! My husband says I'm not allowed to complain about anything ever again because he knows I can handle anything and he has seen it with his own eyes. I agree, we women ARE amazing. Bring on the gray hairs! It just means we're surviving the ride.