Jessica's Blog

Okay,

Forget it.

I am now putting myself out there to say that finances willing, I will likely get work done as I age.

I can see (in the future)my eyes looking tired all the time, and spending a coupld hours with our dermatologist in his office getting that "taken care of".

I can see(again... in the future)  my chin getting tucked a bit as it goes turkey on me.  Much in the same way of getting the eyes cared for.

I have no idea what will be left of the boobs when Little lady is done with them.  Would I go there?  Who knows.

But here is what I do know:  why would I look in the mirror feeling like my outsides don't match my insides?  If they match, great!  But if I keep feeling like something is there that ought not be and can't be remedied with diet, excercise and healthy lifestyle...why not get rid of it?  Or conversely... if something is missing that really makes me feel less womanly or dare I say "hot"... why wouldn't I go there?

Okay, there I said it.  Any comments?  I mean any other than that I should stop hanging out with the pole dancing crew?!?!

Yeah, the other night as I was crawling around on the floor I came  near face to face (inadvertently.. we got criss-crossed)with another student in the class.  In spite of myself, I gasped and thought, "Holy Crap!  Her breasts are perfect!!!" and then glanced down....  ech, well.  I joked about this fact with my pilates instructor and Amanda.  Both who laughed and admitted that it's totally fine to think that when you see a "perfect pair".  Both had totally opposing views about the kind of work that comes with getting "the perfect pair".  The difference between them?  Well.... to be honest... the only real difference between my friend and my instructor are a) a few years of age and b) a few breast-fed babes.  The response of one was "we need to work on acceptance"  and the response of the other is "Hell yeah, I'm so there!"

While working in the school office the other day I got into a chiding chat with my son's kindergarden teacher.  It was a double whammy.  I had him pegged for being in his twenties.  He had me pegged as, "I dunno... 36?" and I wanted to cry... well, not REALLY.. granted most moms of my son's school are in their forties by the time their kids enter pre-k.... for me to not be is different.. but it turned out..we were basically the same age.  The real difference?  HE hasn't spent the last five plus years popping out kids and not getting any sleep at all.  It. has. its. toll.

When I was younger my choral director would scream and yell at us to smile all the time.  She would say "You get the face you deserve by the time you're fifty."  I admit that may well be true.. and I don't begrudge my laugh lines and crows feet one bit... because they come from all my smiling and laughing until my face hurts... I do begrudge the puff of no-sleep, and I wonder a bit (now) about when the stretch marks might fade.  Now that I'm a size six, wouldn't it be nice to wear a bikini without looking like a burn victim around my middle?

I'm not going under the knife anytime time soon, but I am now officially removing my judgement of anyone who might chose to do so!