As big as a butterfly

When I was younger there was a moment in my life where I was completely wowed by butterflies. After some horrible choices in life there was this period in time where everywhere you looked there were white butterflies... hundreds of them. And with the circumstances of where I was at in my life, right then those butterflies represented rebirth and cleanliness.

For years I have been charmed by butterflies. I will stop whatever I am doing to watch them. I will bring a chrysalis inside to be able to watch the butterfly emerge. I download pictures of them to be my background on my laptop.

And I have always thought of butterflies as perfect. Maybe because they get to spend all day flitting around in the flowers, maybe because they get to be so beautiful. As a woman I don't see myself as a butterfly. I am too fat, to pimple-y, too imperfect. And then I noticed something.

Go back and look at that picture of that beautiful butterfly again. Really look at it. Do you see the damaged wing? This one butterfly has two huge spots that make it flawed. And maybe in the butterfly world it is the geek or the fat chick. But when I saw the picture of it, I saw a beautiful creature that put a smile on my face. And I realized, we are what we perceive ourselves to be.

Why do we label ourselves by our flaws? We place so much value in those imperfections and we want other people to point those flaws out too. So go ahead and really look at yourself. If you didn't describe yourself in those negative ways, do you think someone else would point them out to you? Be beautiful. Those butterflies are so beautiful and yet they are flawed. I bet you'll find there is more butterfly in you than you imagined!

What doesn't kill us...

Things I have rediscovered in my food choices since becoming a little less financially independent include such gems as Bologna Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, Bean Burritos and Hot Dogs.

If I don't have a heart attack from the fat content, it's a safe guess that Mr. Sodium is waiting in the wings with a stroke.

Date Night... say WHAT?!?!

Yesterday I watched two movies... Date Night and Our Family Wedding. I was struck by one theme that ran throughout both of those and it was how women become wives and mothers and they give up their idenity as the person they were and become ONLY wives and mothers. I've been struggling for some time with a feeling of being lost. I don't pursue anything I am interested in. I go to work and am "working" mommy. Then I come home and I AM mommy. On my days off I am "clean my house and run errands" mommy.

I feel guilty if I sit down to read a book or watch a movie because that is time that I carve out to be selfish. I have a small "guilty" pleasure in life of getting a pedicure... a pleasure that gets shelved everytime I see something in the store that Toby would like or whenever he needs something. Maybe it's because I spend so much time dirt broke that I am really feeling down.

I love being a mom. I love taking Toby to places to show him things like the aquarium or the zoo. But I also miss that woman who would go to see a ballet or who could go lay on the beach all day and while away the hours reading and wading. But mostly I miss people genuinely wanting to talk to ME!

I spend 10 hours a day talking to people on the phone. They call and get someone to talk to. I make the most of it because you gotta do it anyway, might as well have a laugh or two. But when that person on the other end of the phone says "how you doing?" and you start to answer with the normal pleasantries, well, you know they don't really give a damn... and most times don't even let you answer.

When my 10 hours are up, then I spend the next couple of hours talking about Toby. What did he do at school. What is he going to eat for dinner. What jammies shall we wear or what smell can we put in the bathtub. And then he goes to bed. And every one of of those conversations if there is a hint of "me" in it, it vanishes as soon as there is a demand from Toby or a story about Toby.

At 8 each evening, mommy me is over. And I sit on my couch and have virtual conversations with people who I work with, who I used to be friends with. And no one ever asks me how I am. No one gives back any sort of emotional connection. Any and every conversation I have with anyone either revolves around why they pay so much every month or something about Toby.

And I know it may be selfish and I know I may sound like a whiny brat. But just once in a while I want to be able to go out to lunch with a friend or go buy a shirt just for the hell of it. Or have someone ask me how I was doing without cutting me off or telling me how THEY are doing. I want to be able to sort through the laundry of my life and be able to see my own identity, to try my own things. To be able to be a mommy but to also have someone care about me outside of that identity. And to not feel so damn guilty if I do something for me once in a while.