Tuesday, November 22, 2016

I Could Easily Be Nominated For The Schlumpy Dog Mom Award

I'll be the first to admit I don't pay much attention to my wardrobe, hair, accessories, and the only makeup I currently own is lipstick, lip gloss, and nail polish. Due to our schedules and the non-stop flow of work, blogging, taking photos, DIY Dog Mom Projects, meal prep, housework, creating new dog biscuit recipes, baking biscuit love, and everything between, I don't leave the house often. I practically live in skirts, lounge pants, t-shirts, turtlenecks, hoodies, and Crocs Flip Flops. My hair is always in a sloppy bun. And, although I take a day once or twice a year to add a splash of color to my hair, I never maintain it.

I could easily be nominated for the Schlumpy Dog Mom Award. 

Lisa has always encouraged me to buy new clothes, get my hair done, or book a spa day. I decline. Shrug it off. Why spend money on, what I consider, frivolous stuff when that money could be used on Lisa, the kids, or be put into savings.

I've always had trouble spending money on myself.

Just recently, I've been thinking about my appearance. While my choice in clothing won't veer far from lounge pants and turtlenecks during the cold weather months when I'm home, I'd like to have a few casual pieces to wear outside of the home.

Yesterday, this was my post for my November Gratitude Project...

Day 21: I'm thankful for my wife's persistence. And, once again, in order to understand this, I need to set the stage a bit.

I'm a work at home Dog Mom. My life revolves around my wife, our fur-kids, Bodacious Biscuit Love, work, writing, my book, managing and authoring 2 blogs, meal prep, creating new biscuit recipes, DIY Dog Mom Projects, etc. And, most of this is done on about 3 hours of sleep a day. I put all of my energy and efforts into all of the above. In doing so, I've slowly gravitated towards, and earned the award for, Schlumpy Work At Home Dog Mom.

The last time I had my hair professionally done was shortly before my 40th birthday. If my hair gets too long and ratty, I chop a few inches off. Add a splash of color. After all, it's only hair, right?
I don't own a single pair of jeans to rock my curvy body. I live in skirts, t-shirts, turtlenecks, lounge pants, and hoodies. I hate shopping for clothes because my body is funky weird. I have short legs. A long torso. Wide hips. A squishy belly that hates low rise anything. And, the only makeup I own is lip gloss.

Over the past few years, Lisa has done everything in her power to take me shopping for clothes that rock my curvy body, to get my hair professionally colored and cut, and to treat me to a total girly makeup spree. But, I've told her NO. I've refused. Each and every time, I had to witness the heartache in her eyes. In her eyes, I'm beautiful and she wants me to see that same reflection.

This is something she REALLY wants to do for me. To give me, but I'm so diligent about bulking up our savings and making sure Lisa and the kids have everything they need. Most of all, I have the hardest time spending money on myself.

This year, for my 43rd birthday, I'm throwing in the white flag. Yep. It's time. I told her to make an appointment with Nicole (my one and only favorite stylist). And, we have set aside an evening to go out and find the almost-perfect pair of jeans to rock my body along with a few other pieces to pair up. And, some cosmetics to fill my girly-bathroom-shelf.

This year, I'm letting go. Stepping out of my comfort zone. I'm going to rock my inner fucking goddess. Embrace my curves. Let my wife give me the gift she's been wanting to give me for the past few years. She has taught me that beauty has NOTHING to do with your body. Numbers. Or size.

Beauty has everything to do with the kindness you extend, the love you radiate, the amount of laughter you dole out, and the silly song and dances. And, for the record, I felt beautiful on Halloween night when I danced with a 17 year old my porch for almost an hour. There was no judgement. There's a lot to be learned from the younger generation. Thank you Miss A. And, to her Mama, Miss K. You two have inspired me more than you know.

If it takes a few glasses of wine to exhale, relax, and let it happen, so be it. I may shed a few tears. Throw an adult temper tantrum of resistance. However, I'm ready.

I have a hair appointment a week after Thanksgiving.

I'm going to muster up enough spunk and nerve to go clothes shopping. I'll only buy a few things as I plan to get back on track with my eating habits once the first of the year is upon us.



I've got this.

I think.

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