Though I think the jury is still out on which came first, the chicken or the egg, I do believe…

in creating my reality…

in manifestation…

in The Secret!

So my secret is that I apply extra concealer on my nose, the tip of my nose, the tip of my nose that is turning, you guessed it – brown.

Technically, it’s turning blue, as in a varicose vein is slowing making its way from below the layers of fat that used to be there, and closer and closer to air since as I age my skin is getting thinner and thinner.

It’s a real thing – I looked it up.

So my nose it getting brown.

And it’s not like I’ve ever been against brown nosing.

I’ve made it this far by being nice to others.

That fourth grade teacher who thought I was being a bully until I explained I felt “left out” and got all the sympathy.

That boss who repeated my idea and took the credit for it while I remained quiet, even congratulating her on her great idea.

That lady at the store who cut in line in front of me – okay, so I’m not so good at these situations.

And…

I’m a teacher for dog’s sake.

I encourage teacher’s pets. I have a whole week’s worth of lessons – common core aligned lessons – on the benefits of being the teacher’s pet. (I don’t call it “brown nosing” because inevitably one of my charges will ask “Why do they call it…?” and I have a hard time not telling the truth, then I get a phone call from an irate parent wondering why I am talking about kissing butt in my class and all my explanations about the history of idioms get me “nowhere” and “now here” – in the principal’s office, where I totally practice what I preach but the irony of the situation is usually only funny to  me and inevitably the principal asks, “Do you have something on your nose?” To which I have to respond, “Actually, not really, it’s inside my nose. It’s a vein.” I’m assuming you get the point.)

I’ve raised Cherub to be a brown noser. Especially when he needs money for pizza. “Who’s the best mom in the world?”

“You attract more flies with honey,” is what my mother-in-law always tells us, after she tells us to “kill them with kindness.”

Not sure I want flies and to date, no one I’ve tried killing with kindness has actually passed on – from my life. They instead tend to stick around, which is the opposite of what I wanted. Still, it runs in our blood.

Hubby is a pro at telling me, “Yes, Dear.” (Then doing what he wants he made me to add for the record. Yeah, right!)

So, it’s no wonder that my nose is getting darker and darker with each passing day.

And the foundation I put on, tends to wear off as the day wears on. I’m not sure why.

It might be because of where I’m constantly sticking my nose.

This week I will hope for thicker skin, at least on my nose.

I don’t even particularly like Jello, and I doubt I have eaten enough to have created my jolly, jello belly.

So, seriously, where did it come from?

I admit, I have eaten my share of cottage cheese. To be fair though, I didn’t even start eating it until the age of twenty-three.

 A friend asked why I didn’t like it.

“I don’t like the way it looks.” She persuaded me to taste it. I do like the way it tastes, but I still hate the way it looks, especially on my thighs.

This is what I should look like:

Because I have eaten lots and lots of these.

Unfortunately, I have eaten more of these:

 and am beginning to more closely resemble one.

I guess you are what you eat, and you end up looking like what you eat.

This week I will eat lots of asparagus, just hoping it works. 

weekly affirmations

Most people only have one birthday. And technically, this is true for me too.

Except I also have my happy adoption day which happens to be today.

So the story goes…

Happily ever after with one child got a phone call that there was a little girl who needed a home. They piled into a car, showed up to the orphanage/foster home and were taken to a crib with a long, skinny, hairy-body, bald-head screaming baby with a green bow taped to her head in a white dress.

And, despite all these warning signs (screaming, bald, hairy), happily ever after took the baby home. On St. Patrick’s Day.

How lucky am I?

Lucky enough to be reminded how crazy it was to take home a screaming infant who turned into a colicky baby who turned into a child prone to hives who turned into complaining tweenager who turned into a screaming teenager who finally moved out.

Lucky enough that on a particularly depressing  St. Patrick’s Day, I was given a handwritten note which told me that despite all those warning signs and the obvious come to fruition of destiny, I was loved.

Lucky enough to be grateful for the family who chose me.

So, instead of drinking questionable green liquids today (this includes grass juice),  and instead of searching for a lucky four-leaf clover, I am wondering if perhaps I was not the captured leprechaun who was proved a golden future.

This week I will be green with gratitude on my happy adoption day!

Well, I’ve hit that age. The age when I have to pay attention to what I eat.

Bummer!

Actually, I can keep eating whatever I want, but then I will not be able to wear whatever I want. And we all know I’m too cheap to buy new clothes, and my self-esteem is too low to be able to handle a higher number on the tag on the inside of my jeans.

So, I’ve been walking around like sharpei… with a little too much “skin.”

Sure, I’ve told myself all the usual things:

1. At my age, who cares?

2. When exactly am I entering a bikini contest?

3. A little chubby can be quite attractive, think Sophia Loren.

But, this week, after watching the movie Forks Over Knives, I decided to change my eating habits.

I’m an occasional red meat eater already, and I don’t like the taste of fish. The main meat I eat has been fowl.

I drink milk, even though I know it gives me a runny nose. I eat cottage cheese and yogurt, thinking they are low fat snacks.

Well, the movie changed my mind about most of this, and I decided to try out a plant diet.

I went to the grocery store and bought whole grain bread, pasta and tortillas, veggies, and hummus.

I spent the week eating oatmeal, whole wheat tortillas wrapped around hummus and veggies, and peanut butter sandwiches.

Of course, I began to read the labels a bit more carefully. This week I will search for gluten free whole grain products and peanut butter which doesn’t have sugar as it’s second ingredient.

I didn’t change my eating habits to lose weight. For some reason, I have this mental block about trying to be thin. I’m convinced you shouldn’t diet, but you should live-it. (I might have gotten this idea from Health-teacher Hubby, who does live it – up!).

I did change my eating habits so there might be enough grain to feed, not cows, but starving people. I changed my eating habits so I wouldn’t be ingesting all the chemicals fed to animals. I changed my eating habits so I could be holier than thou and attend bar-b-ques and announce, “Oh, I don’t eat other sentient beings!” NOT!

Mostly I changed my eating habits to have more energy and to be healthier. There is no way Hubby is getting to enjoy my life insurance policy when I have such grand plans for his.

And lo and behold, I lost weight.

I don’t weigh myself so I’m not sure how much, but my pants are actually not making it difficult for me to put on my shoes. Crazy, I can put them on with my zipper and button closed.

Next thing you know, I’ll be doing hand stands. Except I could never do those.

I’m hoping by this summer to be a greyhound…leaping through the fields.

Besides, I heard they sleep like 16 hours a day, and I’m already quite good at that.

This week I will remember that if I buy it at the grocery store, it will be what I eat. 

A recurrent conversation in our house goes like this:

“Are you hungry?”

“Of course!”

or

“You know we’re going out to eat later.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be hungry.” Actually, you can’t understand what I’m saying here because my mouth is full.

or

“You just ate.”

“That was like 20 minutes ago.”

So, it’s not like I need a reason to eat. But this is the season.

Mashed potatoes from real potatoes. Stuffing and turkey with gravy. Soft rolls. Dutch apple pie.

And that was course 2 of a 6 course season.

Course 1 was Halloween candy. Lots and lots of Halloween candy.

Now I’m into course 3, Christmas. Christmas cookies and Christmas treats and Christmas shopping snacks and finally Christmas dinner:  mashed potatoes from real potatoes, stuffing, turkey and gravy and pie! Oh, and soft, hot from the oven rolls.

Course 4 will be a New Year’s feast worthy of saying goodbye to the old year and saying hello to a new year.

Course 5 will be Valentine’s and chocolates and dinner out.

Then, after a slight breather – Course 6, Easter. Mashed potatoes and stuffing, hot from the oven rolls, and ham and cookies or cupcakes.

Then I sign up for a different kind of course. A course of dieting and exercising and the delusion that within six weeks I can sweat off and starve a six course feast that lasted for over six months -just in time for summer.

 It’s not like I have a squeezer in the basement to take out all that extra juice.

Still, it is the season of lots of reasons to eat exactly what I want. No one should deprive themselves during the holidays. And no matter what anyone says, skinny does not taste as good as chocolate chip cookies.

This week I will be happy and plump and in the holiday mood.

One of my favorite fables is about the man whose son breaks his leg riding his horse and the townsfolk express their sorrow at his misfortune, “What bad luck.” The dad responds, “Maybe, maybe not.” And the story goes that what looks like bad luck turns out to be good fortune and what looks  like good luck turns out to be misfortune.

I like the fable because it is meant to help us to keep things in perspective, to recognize that we only have part of the picture: often your blessings come in disguise.

But, I’m afraid that I have been mistaken disguises for the real thing.

Take my summer for example, which I will always from this moment forward refer to as “The Summer of My Bad Hair.” (Okay, I might have explained my summer is these exact words last night to a friend, but nothing was written down!)

How could a bad hair summer be a blessing in disguise?

Exactly! But in drag, maybe.

Take for instance that this was my first summer off in six long years! That is not a disguise, ladies and gentlemen. That is false eyelashes and ruby red lipstick.

Take for instance the gorgeous path Hubby built for me around my fruit trees because I mentioned it would be easier to take care of that part of the yard. That is no disguise. That is 3 inch high heels in alligator skin with an open toe. 

Take my week long workshop studying with Stephen Elliott. Actually, don’t you dare take it because that is no disguise. That is a full-length silk dress in emerald green.

Take the hummingbirds who have been my constant buddies every time I venture into the yard. That is no disguise. That is a tight pair of Spanx for just the right spots.

So, yeah, maybe my hair looked like this:  because I took the advice that wearing a hat would make it better. (And you may have noticed my No-No was out of commission all summer and my contacts were too irritating to wear), but at least I got to watch reruns of “30 Rock” on Comedy Central every day at noon. That is some serious Donna Summer dance music!

It’s been The Summer of My Bad Hair, but this drag has definitely also been a blessing!

This week I will count my blessings as blessed summer vacation draws to a close.