Made in Richmond

This is going to be my year. 2010: The year of my skin glowing on its own accord (I stole that phrasing from Susan who has similar aspirations for this year. In fact, all we talk about on gchat is this goal).

As you can tell from recent posts, I’m a bit preoccupied with my skin as of late. And by “preoccupied” I mean “spending every minute I’m not working or mothering looking up stuff on the Internet.”

I’m not hideous, by any means, but things are just not in working order. I used to have normal-to-oily skin and now it seems I have dry, sensitive skin (exacerbated by this awful, awful bitch of a winter). You know, skin that peels and flakes and breaks out and is generally gross. I blame pregnancy.

(I realize that after all of these posts about pregnancy aftermath, I might be solely responsible for the extinction of the human race. Sorry.)

So! I’m now going to solicit your advice. What do you use? What has worked? What hasn’t? Any tips and tricks? It’s all up for grabs: cleansers, lotions, creams, serums, even makeup. Let’s share and commune and be glowy and dewy forever!

Other than the emotional and logistical changes that come with birthing live young (I love describing it like that, particularly around squeamish dudes), there are some major physical changes that are continuing to boggle my mind.

(Don’t worry, I’m not talking about any of THOSE changes. I had a C-section, remember? Hi, Dad!)

1. Feet
My feet are a full half-size bigger. During pregnancy, I only experienced a couple instances of swelling in my feet, and those lasted a few hours at most. But ever since several pairs of my shoes are noticeably tighter.

2. Boobage (Hello again, Dad!)
I was a 34D when I got pregnant. I wore a 34DD while pregnant. I was a staggering 34E while nursing. Now I am some unquantifiable size that left three (THREE) Victoria’s Secret employees scratching their heads before recommending specialty shops. And it’s not even that I’m huge up top anymore. I’m just odd.

3. Skin
Uggggggh THE SKIN. I had finally, FINALLY found something that worked while I was pregnant: Cetaphil. It was glorious and gentle and wonderful. And things were good for a while, but as soon as I stopped nursing, BLAMO. Pubescent skin that is immune to all products. I’m trying Philosophy’s On A Clear Day kit (which is apparently made of gold, judging by the price tag – thank you, Christmas money), and things are vaguely under control. I hear tell that I have to give it a few weeks to get things balanced out. If it doesn’t work, I will write a letter, don’t think I won’t. You don’t make promises to acne-sufferers and not deliver; it’s heartless and wrong.

4. Mah bones
JR was over 10 pounds. So that means I carried a 10 pound thing in my belly. Consequently, my hips are completely jacked up. I can’t lie in any position for very long without it hurting. And, lord, if I’m lying on my side, I require help to lift my leg so I can roll over.

5. Hair
I didn’t shed much while I was pregnant, and I had heard that all of that glorious pregnancy hair falls out after the baby is born. Well, mine didn’t fall out until I stopped nursing. And then my hair suddenly became wavy. I hear it will get wavier with each pregnancy.

I’d love to hear about what freaky stuff you went through because I think biology is weird/awesome. Do share…

As you can probably tell from my last post, I’m going through an over-the-moon phase for my kid right now. I’ve been feeling so good lately which has allowed me to be more present in my time with him, to soak him up and really enjoy him. Forgive me because the sappiness is about to get turned up to 11.

This morning we were playing in his room and listening to a CD given to us by the mother of the family I used to nanny for. There’s a song on it called “On Children,” adapted from a section in Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. I think it’s perfect.

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
And He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
So He loves also the bow that is stable.

What did my fingers do before they held him?
What did my heart do, with its love?

(Slyvia Plath, Three Women)

So apparently a while ago, the young lady behind MagPie Photoworks (which sells prints and stationary, etc. on Etsy) contacted Ross to see if she could use on of his pictures of me as a demo for her new project of making custom silhouettes.

He said yes, and she did.

Here ’tis:

I think it’s pretty swell (although I believe she might have been kind to me in the chin department).

Her Etsy shop isn’t stocked yet, but you can check out some of her other stuff here.

Here’s a confession for you:

I have never broken up with someone face to face. Look…

Boyfriend #1: Over the phone
Boyfriend #3: Over the phone
Boyfriend #5: Over the phone
Boyfriend #6: OVER IM
Boyfriend #7: ALSO OVER IM

(Boyfriends #2 and #4 dumped my ass first.)

I’m particularly appalled at those last two, but I’m blaming those on the fact that I was seventeen. Seventeen-year-old girls are crazy, they just are.

How about you?