Thursday, June 9, 2016

excuse me while I try to find my stomach muscles

For those of you who have read here at the Tired Supergirl for any length of time,
you will know that I have had recurring back and hip a 90 year old.

And after eight months of writing, my back once again decided to say, "No thank you."
So I have been on a mission to figure out a better way to do this thing.
This thing, meaning, working and not being in pain.
It has been a five year journey but I am still figuring it out.

I went to the physical therapist a few years back to help me.
The PT had me lay on my back on a table and
said, "Try and tighten your core muscles."
She had pained expression on her face that read,
"I know there should be stomach muscles here...but where are they?"
She asked me again, "Can you tighten them?"
I tried...I really did.

And then she finally said, "Oh, we go."
Like she was that boy from the movie Hook,
who is searching for Peter Pan's boyhood face under Robin William's man wrinkles
and finally says, "Oh, there you are Peter!"

Let's be honest. Finding my stomach muscles took some searching on her part.
I could have told her that after birthing three 9 lb babies
that my stomach muscles finally said, "We're out."
They had been stretched and pulled and pummeled into flabby submission.
It still isn't pretty.

So I went to a back specialist last week who took a look at my new x-rays.
And she said, "Your back and hips actually look great."
I wanted to give her high five.
Then she said,
"But from now on,
you will need to do back exercises,
to strengthen your core....
No high five for her.

I felt like a kid who had been given a lifetime supply of PE class.
I thanked her. Kind of.
And took my pamphlet of FOREVER UNTIL I DIE back exercises.

So I have been doing my exercises.
And I have been speaking hope and truth to my stomach region, saying things like,
"I know you are in there....come on out."
"This hurts me just as much as it hurts you...let's just get it over with."
And I have been playing Justin Timberlake's new song while I work out.
Because it makes me happy even when my stomach muscles are sad.

Things are looking up.
Just yesterday after trying to do a bridge I felt something new and solid
trying to hold up my stomach flab.
I am not getting my hopes up too high, but I think it might actually be a muscle.
Fingers crossed, people, fingers crossed.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

my eyebrows tell the story

I am in Colorado.
My mom had valve repair surgery a week ago.
I have had the privilege of getting to be here during part of her recovery.
It has been so good to be with her.
And so hard to see her in pain. Ugh.

She is a trooper. She is determined. And she is funny.
Yesterday when Dad and I were trying to figure out who would leave to get dinner
and who would stay in the room, Mom said, "I think I will leave."
She is ready to be done with all this.

The last week has been good and stressful and crazy.
Just yesterday before heading into the hospital,
I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Sweet Mercy Days.
My eyebrows looked wild.
I had to go dig through my mom's bathroom drawer to find a pair
of tweezers.

For some reason, when my life gets crazy, my eyebrows are the first thing to go.

I am on the tail end of 8 months of writing deadlines.
I re-injured my back right before mom's surgery and am walking around like a 90 year old.
It is the last week of school for the boys and I am half way across the country.
I have jury duty in a week.

And my eyebrows?
I am Ernest Borgnine's doppelganger.

Sorry, Scott.
My husband REALLY notices eyebrows.
Which is ironic since I am REALLY horrible with eyebrow upkeep...

Partly because I have terrible vision and without my glasses I can't see my own eyebrows
so plucking them is in an exercise in blindness.

Partly because when stress creeps in I don't even think about my eyebrows.

I looked at my eyebrows and thought of Barbie, Leslie, Melissa and Darshini...
all my friends who have done eyebrow interventions for me over the years.
(I am not eyebrows have merited friendly concern...followed by plucking or waxing.)

And I did my eyebrows.
For me. And for Scott. Because I get to see him tomorrow
and I don't want him thinking,
"Why do I want to watch Dr. Zhivago when I look into Sue's eyes?"

Mom is on the mend.
Life is good even when it is crazy.
Tomorrow I get to hug all 4 of my boys.
And my eyebrows look a little better.
Things are looking up.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

whatever you do today....don't buy a swimsuit from China

I have been on a deadline lock down for the past few months.
This means lots of time in front of my computer.
Open prey for the lure of the many ads online.

And I saw an ad for a cute tankini swimsuit.
I am partial to the tankini since I am long-waisted.
Most one pieces give me a wedgie.

I should have told myself,
"Sue.....surely you know that EVERY swimsuit you have
ever bought has been bought after trying on 713 swimsuits."

And seemed like they offered a fool proof way to get the right size.
They had you measure yourself and choose your size accordingly.

So really this was like a couture swimsuit.
Sewn according to my personal dimensions.

And it was only $17.
The clincher.
I am a sucker for a good deal.

I didn't realize I was buying it from overseas until
after I paid and a message came up,
"Will be shipped in 4-6 weeks."

It took a month to get here.
And yesterday, I opened it and started laughing.

Apparently, they measured the top half of my swimsuit at
about a women's size 18.
And the bottom half?
A 3T.
I could donate it to a preschooler.

I am neither a size 18 or a size 3T....just in case you were wondering.

My son, Will, saw the bottoms and said,
"No, Mom. Just no."

Thought you might like to see the difference between my board shorts
and the new tankini bottoms.

You can understand Will's concern.
I know what you are thinking....
"That is way worse than a wedgie."
Yes. Yes it is.

I am a full coverage kind of girl.
I have had enough scarring lately with revealing more of myself than I intended to.

Lesson learned.
I am passing my world wide web lesson on to you.
The next time you feel tempted to buy a swimsuit on-line just tell yourself,
"Maybe I will just visit the toddler's section at my favorite store and see what they have."

It's not a complete loss.
I think I'll save the tankini bottoms for my niece, Lily.
She is 6 months old. They might fit her next year.