Wibble Wobble

Hi friends. I have been anchored down by something ridiculous the last few months, and so in an effort to - get over it - I am writing a list. Bear with me, as this list is intentional and not just a parade of "Look how great Taylor thinks she is"!

These are things in my life that I am currently proud of:

* I grow people! In my stomach! The third, currently growing inside of me, is safe and healthy and growing little lady parts. My body is strong, and capable. I feel empowered by the gift of growing life within my own body. (Attention women with fertility issues: This is not me throwing shade. You are strong, and capable, and have endurance and resilience that I will never know. I pain with your pain, and rejoice in your successes.)

* I have a husband that loves on me. I mean, sometimes inappropriately. He grabs on me, squeezes on me, and reminds me daily of how much he adores me. He thinks I am desirable and beautiful, and he sometimes embarrasses me because he gets kind of handsy in public! But I am so thankful that he sees me as this devour-able creature, because even in aisle 7 of our local grocery store, surrounded by cookies and crackers, the man can make me feel oh-so-pretty.

* I mother like WHOA. I'm not perfect of course, but I challenge any mother to love like I love. (Truthfully, I hope you all do. Our kids benefit from this!) I adore my kiddos with every single ounce of my existence. I never knew the power of a mother's love until I became one. I am Mommy, HEAR ME ROAR.

* I have wonderful people in my life - great friends. Maybe I don't see them as much as I'd like, but when I do, my belly aches from the laughing. From the joy. I am in awe of their talents, their endurance for life, their success and their ability to rise after failure. I have a pool of people in my life that inspire me, and I am so proud to know them.

* My family rocks. They are supportive, and kind, and so much fun to be around. They rally behind me in the best of times, and the worst. I couldn't have hand picked better people to be in my posse. I am proud to be Woody/Kirk/Thompson/Niemiste/Sult.

* I have long hair. It took a lot of work; a lot of patience. I grew this out from a pixie! I spent my 20s being adventuresome and reckless in the hair department, and I'm happy to have been slow and steady in my 30s. Is this at all important? Nope! But, my long hair makes me happy. It is a badge of honor, tangible evidence that somewhere within me - is patience! (Hey, Mom always said it was a virtue.)

* I draw! And it is fun! Last week I got paid - the first time ever, for my art. I made a logo for somebody, and it was a thrill. To be rewarded, monetarily, for something you've made. Whoa. That was a really great experience for me!

There are lots and lots of other things I am proud of. But those are my standout stars today. Do you know what none of them are affected by?

Cellulite.

That's right, ladies and gents. I have allowed myself to become some sort of internal abuse/torture being that fixates on the most unimportant wibbly bits of my being.

I have allowed myself to overlook so many pros about my body - the growing people, the strength, the endurance. I have been fool to the photoshopped images of smooth, smooth thighs. I let myself forget that like 95% of real life women that I know, have a dimple or two, maybe even more. You ladies, the dimply ones - you are goddesses. Untarnished by a bit of fascia. And you dimple free folk are wonderful beings too, but I know you've got your own hangups. If it's not cellulite you despise, it is <fill in the blank>.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why am I apprehensive to go to the pool with my kids? At 32, am I not allowed to have softened? Am I expected to cook, clean, care for children, homeschool, and also squeeze in vigorous workouts and deprive myself of all sugars? Of course I know it is a choice - and I *could* try harder - but I mean, chocolate is my sanity most days. And the couch is my safe haven; my fleeting break.

So there you have it. With the world falling apart, poverty, war, crazed politicians, the hot topic of gorillas vs. children - and yet here I find myself worried about my dang wibbly bits. Ridiculous. I'm retiring this. I am a lovely being, dimples and all. And here's the real truth - I spend so much time being insecure about my own "imperfections" that I don't even have time to discover yours. Surely the same can be said, but in the other direction.

My name is Taylor. I have cellulite. And that's perfectly okay.

Google search for: 50's housewife - she can do it all, and with half the fat!