NATIONAL LIKE YOURSELF DAY: YEAR 2

The other day I noticed a picture on my phone that Jonah must have taken one morning during a round of "Mommy, what does this button do." I have to be honest, at first glance, I saw nothing but blur and went to delete it. But then I took a second look, "Do my thighs look as great as I think they do here?"

Totally self absorbed and obnoxious as it may sound, the photo gave me that sort of... "hmmph" feeling... The kind of feeling when you try you try on a pair of jeans you think will look terrible, but lo and behold, your butt actually looks (a la Larry David), "pre-tty, pre-tty, good."

Similarly, while taking Tae Bo class this morning, and feeling particularly proud of myself for how high I was kicking, I got a rush of "I'm kind of a bad ass" and remembered a post I wrote last October. After spending time in what I dub/dubbed as "woe is me land," last year, I decided I'd take a day to honor the strictly superficial things I like about myself and shout it from the roof tops. Read Post HERE. I got a lot of positive feedback... a lot of you were up for the challenge and shared the things you liked too...

One year later, I'm happy to say I'm still feeling great about my ankles, eyebrows, and what should be a genetically impossible nose. Though I still hate my arms and frequently curse the Gods of Breastfeeding, there are days like today that liking myself comes easy. I'm not sure if I have Hipstamatic and/or fogged up gym mirrors to thank for the feeling, but either way, I'm gonna roll with it. And like it.

Now it's your turn again. It's National Like Yourself Day and I'm challenging YOU to like yourself today too. Choose three things that you love about yourself physically. Share them in the comments here and/or on your own blog. Be sure to leave a link and link back to me too. Tweet it, Facebook it, share it with your community and spread the like yourself love....

Who's in?

NATIONAL LIKE YOURSELF DAY

When's the last time you looked in the mirror, and saw those dark circles under your eyes as a status symbol-- a beautiful indication of the hours you put into your family and life, instead of a sign of exhaustion and stress? Or when's the last time you looked down at your breasts (literally DOWN at your breasts, as they now fall below the equator) and considered their (dis)placement as a rite of passage, instead of "the shitty thing about breastfeeding?" OR when's the last time you looked at your ass in your not skinny jeans but alllmost 2 sizes CLOSER to the skinny jeans, and thought it looked perfectly fine...instead of a fat blob of once hot goodness?

Though charming, delightful, and entirely inspirational, let's be honest: those love yourself/love your body/ Dove campaign moments are few and far between for most of us. Amidst a divorce, a relationship post divorce, a house foreclosing, a career I wish would explode and a 3-year old who pretty much does explode when I wish he wouldn't--- I spend a lot of time in "woe is me" land. But it occurred to me yesterday, while on the treadmill (for the first time in god knows how long), that I'm not so bad. All things considered, I'm pretty goddamn spectacular. Yep, I said it.... And then I said it again, and again and again... And it got me thinking.... What if for one day, I just LIKED MYSELF. And I'm not even talking about the real "it's the inside that matters" stuff like personality, and generosity and intelligence, blah blah blah. I'm talking strictly superficial. HOW I LOOK. What if for one day, I shouted from the roof tops the things that I seriously, SERIOUSLY like about myself. The things that I can SEE in a mirror that I can always feel good about no matter what. The things that will be there with or without a promotion, with or without a significant other to cuddle with, with or without a best mommy of the year award...

Like my nose... I love my nose.

My ankles... I love my ankles.

My eyebrows... With a little help, I love my eyebrows.

Now it's your turn. It's NATIONAL LIKE YOURSELF DAY and I'm challenging YOU to like yourself today too. Choose three things that you love about yourself physically. Share them in the comments here and/or on your own blog. Be sure to leave a link and link back to me too. Tweet it, facebook it, share it with your community and spread the like yourself love....

Who's in?

I'M A CHILD

By now you've probably heard about the fact that Salma Hayek breastfed a starving baby in Sierra Leone. Hayak, who is still nursing her one-year-old daughter, says she isn't the first in her family to offer her breast milk to a starving child-- her great-grandmother did the same exact thing years ago in Mexico.

As much as I complained and hated every second of nursing, (with the exception of the fact that I burned calories faster than Michael Phelps), I think I would do the exact same thing. It was a beautiful and selfless act.

But can I just be a 12 year old boy for one second and state the obvious: Salma Hayak has the biggest most voluptuous (natural) boobs of anyone I've ever seen. She probably has enough milk to feed the entire village and the entire cast of "30 Rock."

Thank you. I will go back to being an adult now.

PARTY'S OVER

As I pushed the stroller past the windows at Trader Joe's today, I caught a reflection of myself and for some reason the reality hit:

It's been 6 Days since I have pumped and 10 days since Baby-Ko has nursed.

I am officially done with breastfeeding.

I pushed Baby-Ko through the doors of the Hawaiian flared market and suddenly all the cheap, non-preservative, goodies it has to offer started to taunt me. "You are not breastfeeding anymore, lady, you do not get to eat me. You will not burn extra calories just by feeding your child. You will not get to have 'just one more cookie' after your midnight pumping session 'just because.' And you will certainly not be able to use the excuse of being exhausted because you are nursing and it's so much pressure, whah whah whah... Face it, THE PARTY IS OVER."

I bee-lined straight to the produce area (despite the fact that Traders is the shittiest place for produce). As I searched for the pre-packaged Country Italian Salad (my fav), a tinge of sadness came over me. For the past 7 months, I haven't looked at one nutrition label, haven't thought about fat, calories, sugar, or sodium. I have eaten to my heart's content AND still managed to lose all my pregnancy weight, and fit (okay, squeeze) back in to my size 27 jeans. Breastfeeding has been like a miracle drug and for selfish reasons only, I will miss it.

Who am I kidding? I tell myself as I ignore the best pita chips known to man. I hated breastfeeding! There were times that I secretly wished my milk would dry up so I would have no excuse but to give Baby-Ko formula. Plus, my chest is a fucking mess. All the stretch marks that should have gone to obvious places like my stomach and ass have ended up creating quite a lovely and astonishing pattern on my breasts. My areolas have gotten so large that one more month of nursing, a spear through my nose and a cloth over my crotch, I'd seriously be mistaken for a feature in National Geographic. Call me Ngudu. No joke.

As I pass all the cases of Two Buck Chuck, I realize something else: MOMMY CAN DRINK AGAIN. And not just a little glass here or there. I can get drunk! Yeehaw! Okay, fine. I probably won't get smashed, at least not while I'm taking care of Baby-Ko, but the point is I can drink and not worry about it affecting the baby-

Oh, the baby... My sweet baby who is staring at the lights and ceiling fans with amazement. What if I cut him off too soon? What if breast milk is so much better for him and the formula is poison? What if I should have tried harder and nursed for a whole year instead of 6 1/2 months? WHAT IF-

I stop myself. Baby-Ko is giggling and flirting with the cashier while trying to put his foot in his mouth. Oh my god, When did he get so big? When did he develop this little personality? When did he get to be so much fun?? My guilt has been diverted. The party is far from over. Clearly, it is just beginning....