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Insult to injury


Add insult to injury.
My hair is gray. AND thinning!!!

And to pile on to my grievances, I am losing weight but most of it appears to be coming from my face and breasts.

 Yikes. I'm having a difficult time feeling like the hot-mama I used to be or to trick myself into believing I still am.

 Hell, the wheelchair definitely doesn't help.

 On a recent bar-hopping excursion (when we crashed our friend's anniversary celebration), we went to several establishments I frequented in my younger and wilder hot-mama days. It was a night of dichotomys. The me that I was would have never looked twice at the me that I am. But I so wanted to jump out of my skin and chair and celebrate like I used to. Okay, maybe not exactly like I used to (I am after all 50 something and the mother of three adult children), but just for a moment and without any recriminating video proof!!

 But now I'm getting over myself as I realize nearly every woman over 50 probably feels something akin to what am feeling. Mine is just exacerbated by the wheelchair. We feel loss - a loss of visibility in a way. Loss of sex appeal. Loss of an identity in a way - while my confidence in who I am has increased, my confidence in my appeal has diminished. And most days it's not a big deal, but that night I felt the loss acutely. 

 But then I woke up the next morning to John bringing me coffee and a day full of life 'outside my head'. Pity party was over.

 But the insult is that aging isn't always pretty. 

 BUT, I am.

 Wheelchair, thinning gray hair or extra 20 pounds or not. I am pretty. 
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It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...
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Down 24

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Wally is on weight watchers

If you've read my blog in the past or know me from the 'real world', you know about my pup Wally. Well, this 105 pound lap dog is now on a diet. Yep, one too many loaves of Asiago cheese bread stolen from off the counter. Or two too many peanut butter and treat stuffed Kongs. Or could it be that he's been too good at his job of Pre-Wash leaving no crumb (but plenty of green vegetables) un-licked. It certainly could be that his sweet, adorable face has garnered him a few (hundred?) extra treats. Or that a certain someone has soft-spot and can't ignore Wally's laser-focus stare while eating her breakfast/lunch/dinner compelling her to share a small morsel. I have to blame you and your charm (well, not completely because I am a push-over). Whatever the reason, my companion and I are now on Weight Watchers together. Instead of two cups of kibble twice a day, Wally will now get one and a half. No table food from a certain someone that is me no matter how guilty...
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