On being 45 and bathing suits part 2

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So I’m really not feeling the bikini vibe even though I thought I would. I kept trying on my 2 piece bathing suits and expecting my 20 something body to suddenly reappear when I looked in the mirror. Much to my disappointment it didn’t happen. I am stuck with this “I had 4 kids and I don’t do crunches” body. So off I went in search of a new bathing suit in the middle of August. As you can imagine the pickings are quite slim. I stopped at one discount department store but had no luck. Plus the dressing room lighting and mirror seemed extra harsh and that made it even harder to determine if what I was seeing was truth or not. I thought about all the women who complain about dressing room lighting and mirrors and well they’re right. What are store designers thinking when they design dressing rooms? They aren’t thinking of flattering their customers I can tell you that.

So after dinner I started looking online at Macys.com. The website had a decent selection so I figured maybe the store does too.Alyssa and Daniella had plans so I dragged my 9 year old, Samantha with me. I was pretty optimistic I’d find something. After much hunting and searching I did manage to find a couple of sets that matched and were my size, unfortunately I didn’t like the way they looked. Finally after much grumbling from the 9 year old I hit the jackpot! A two piece bathing suit with netting like material that covers my whole stomach/abdominal area. The top bodice is bikini like which I love and it offers the coverage of a tankini   http://www1.macys.com/shop/product/hula-honey-crochet-halter-tankini-top-side-tie-brief-bottom?ID=1749615&CategoryID=8699&LinkType=#BVRRContainer this is the suit and I am so happy with it.

So there you have it, adventures in swim suit buying, Summer 2015. With a happy ending.

Summertime and the thrift

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It’s still summer time here, the kids don’t go back to school until September 9th. I know that’s late for many parts of the country but here it’s the norm. I’ve been enjoying this lazy pace. Samantha refused to go to camp so she’s been staying up late and then sleeping late in the mornings. Daniella is only 14 and desperate to find a job but not many people will hire her at this age so she’s been home all summer as well. Soon we’ll leave for vacation and I can’t wait. To carry on this lazy pace in a different place with good friends that is near a beach sounds like a great plan.

I still go into work 2 days a week and even that has been enjoyable to have a break from staying home with the kids. Yesterday I was finished early and it stopped raining so I went thrift shopping down East 23rd st between 1st and 2nd avenues. I really enjoyed myself, I didn’t buy much just 2 tops but it was enough to satisfy my thrift craving. 3 out of the 4 thrift stores were over priced, in my cheap opinion anyway. One was a Goodwill and I wasn’t impressed. The second was a thrift store to benefit an animal rescue group and they had this little yippy barking dog there. Not pleasant and very expensive so I left without buying anything. The third was a Salvation army and that’s where I bought the two shirts, one tank and one silk sleeveless blouse, $5.98 for both. Just my speed. There were also Jimmy Choos shoes but were too small (a 6 and 1/2 for anyone who’s interested)  so I left them. They also had a gorgeous leather handbag that looked new but I’m not in the market for anymore handbags right now.  The last store I went  to benefits an AIDS foundation I believe and they are known to be pricey but I went in anyway just to look. I was there anyway. This particular store loves to put their most expensive finds behind glass cabinets and tease you (I feel teased that is) because you can’t buy those things that day.  I think they hold an auction for said expensive finds but that doesn’t interest me. Finding treasures at the thrift is more my speed. Anyway I left with nothing from there.

Samantha is now up and eating breakfast chatting up a storm to me while I write this. Time to start the day…

Shoes…

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I have too many shoes and my husband will wholeheartedly agree with me. I can’t help it, it’s some sort of sickness and I know I’m not the only one “suffering” from said sickness. I’ve tried to downsize but I only succeed in getting rid of shoes that never fit right or are just plain ugly and I’m then having a “wth” moment. I can’t get rid of most shoes for fear I’ll need it someday with some outfit in the near and not so near future. I have a gorgeous pair of red high heeled sandals with rhinestones that I bought on sale over 10 years ago. It was the type of sale where I could not leave them there. I’ve yet to wear them. I’ve also never thought to get rid of them.

My girls love when I go through my closets and take stock of my shoes I have one pair that Daniella fell in love with a few years ago when her foot was too small for them. She made me promise to not get rid of them, to save them for her when her foot grew enough to wear them. Of course I saved them.

Even when I thrift shop I have to check out the shoes. This is one instance where I don’t buy shoes all that often. I’m funny that when I buy thrifted shoes they must be in like new or new condition. The only exception are high end designer shoes. I’ve thrifted Louboutins, Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks in nice condition and happily skipped out of the store with my treasures. I’ve also found Manolos for a good friend I think I was as excited as she was.

So maybe this fall I’ll take another look at my shoes and see about downsizing…Maybe.

On Bathing suits and being 45

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So…we leave for vacation soon. We’re going to a beach town and renting a beach house. We’re going with a couple of other families and we’re all friends and get along so it should be all good.

I’m going through my clothes and bathing suits deciding what to bring; what not to bring. Trying things on and being ultra critical. I know every woman goes through this. What to wear on the beach? Do I dare wear a bikini??  A two piece bathing suit that isn’t a tankini? I know I wrote recently about medication side effects and weight gain, but lately I’m starting not to care about the weight gain. I’m 45 years old and my days of wearing a bikini are definitely numbered. Plus I’ll only know the people who I’m sharing the house with, I won’t know anyone else so that is definitely a plus. Anonymity is absolutely an advantage.  I have a very nice, acceptable one piece bathing suit that I am very comfortable wearing, probably too comfortable. It’s blue and very nice. It’s done the job extremely well the past 2 years. So I’ll bring the safe blue one of course along with the tankini and bikini and cover up. There will be no photographic evidence of which bathing suit was chosen. I’ll most likely blog about it so you’ll have to stay tuned.

In the meantime I’ll keep trying things on and looking in the mirror.

My son and the Beach

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Thomas has been in the residential school now for just over 3 years. I was thinking back to when he was living at home. He was only able to live at home for about 3 and a half years between the first residential school (from ages 8-12) and the second (ages 12-16). It was nice having him home for that time. His meds were stable, Thomas himself was stable. We were able to do things like a “normal’ family. Even go on vacation and/or to the beach.

At the beach Thomas loved to look for shells, he did not like the water at all. In fact at one outing to a beach in NJ with my best friend and her daughters I actually lost Thomas. He took off without me looking for sea shells and when I looked around for him he was no where to be found. I felt the panic rising up. My best friend helped me look but all we saw was a sea of beach goers and not a sign of Thomas. I knew he didn’t go in the water but where the hell was he?  Every story I ever heard of people hurting those with special needs ran through my head. And I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to tell my husband that I lost our son. I figured I couldn’t go home and I would camp out at the beach until I found him. Eventually I grabbed hold of a life guard and explained the situation. They radioed down the beach and it just so happened another lifeguard had happened upon Thomas thinking he was lost. The lifeguards radioed to each other I was told to walk down the beach to a certain station and they had Thomas. As I was walking/running down the beach I saw Thomas walking with a very attractive and fit female lifeguard. His face lit up when he saw me, it was all I could do not to cry. I took custody of him and as we started waking back to where our things were, I teased him saying he wanted to hang out with the “pretty lifeguard” he smiled and then said, “Mooooom! You left me!” I laughed and told him I didn’t leave him; he left us by looking for shells. It really didn’t matter at that point, I was just glad to have him back.

With Thomas the way he is now I don’t see us going to the beach without extra help meaning one person just for him to watch him and keep him occupied. That is if we could even get him to the beach. Towards the end of Thomas living at home vacations with him were not fun. After changing meds because of a sharp decrease in his white blood cells, Thomas was not as stable as he was in the past. His behavior had changed and he became very stubborn. Even refusing to get out of the car when we arrived at the beach. When we did manage to get him out of the car he refused to even look for sea shells and he refused to leave the beach chair with umbrella bought especially for him.

I miss walking on the beach with Thomas. Trying to bribe him with a dollar or two or five to get his feet wet. The answer was always, “No” but with a smile. He has a great smile.

My Thoughts

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I’ve been thinking about my blog “traffic”. I get significantly more readers when I post about what’s on my mind or about my battle with depression/anxiety compared to the posts about our Lord and Savior. It’s interesting. I wonder if I offend people when I talk about God and worship and prayer. Or is it that people don’t care? It won’t make me stop and I’m not threatening to post more about God. I wonder if people think I’m up on a soapbox or a “Jesus freak”. I know a few of my friends on facebook are atheists or at least agnostic and that’s okay. I’m not trying to convert anyone I’m simply writing about what’s on my heart that day and my relationship with the living God. That relationship is the most important relationship I have. I would only hope that my written words will touch the heart of someone else reading. Perhaps open the eyes of someone who’s eyes are currently closed. If not, that’s okay as well it’s not in God’s timing to have their eyes opened.

When I write about my battle with depression and anxiety I truly hope I am helping someone who is in those shoes. At the very least help someone to understand what it’s like to walk in those shoes. I won’t be silent or embarrassed about anything I write whether the topic be God or depression. I don’t hide the fact that I take medication and I don’t hide the fact that I love the Lord. How to mesh those two topics is something I work on. I used to think I was depressed because I wasn’t praying hard enough, maybe I wasn’t “Christian” enough. I know now that I was wrong and God placed people in my life to help me. There are no coincidences. It was not a coincidence that my now therapist used to work with a former psychiatrist of my son. She called me out of the blue about 3 months before I needed her, looking for information for special needs adults where I live.  I called her later when I needed her advice in dealing with the school district when we decided that Thomas needed a residential school to meet his needs. I never expected her to become my therapist. She said to me after asking if I wanted to meet for coffee one morning, “You sound like you need a therapist”, I almost yelled, “I do!” It was no accident that she was put back in my life after not speaking to her for over 6 years.

I guess I’m back talking about not wanted to convert anyone. Actually I do hope my written words about God touches the heart of someone in need of a Savior. Honestly don’t we all need a Savior?

So these are my thoughts on this sunny beautiful Friday morning.

Oh Praise Him

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I woke up with this song running through my head. The lyrics are quite simple, telling us to praise Him…” all this for our King… He is Christ our King…” I think of how easy it is to praise Him when things are going good or “smooth” as I like to think. It’s when trials come that we are faced with the anger, sometimes feeling as though we’ve been betrayed by our Lord. I keep in mind our Lords Prayer and how we pray, “Thy will be done”.  We are actually praying for His will, His plan to be displayed not ours.  When I think of the lyrics to this song, “How constant, how divine, this song of ours will rise…” I am reminded of how constant His love is for us. How divine and beautiful that love is. It never fails. His love is infinite. He is holy.

I often think of people who question why do bad things happen if there is such a loving God? Why does God allow such evil things. I was asking those same questions when I had my first miscarriage. Why did God even allow me to become pregnant when He was only going to take it away? I had no answers then and I have no answers now. I do know that when I was finally pregnant and I didn’t miscarry I was blessed with a doctor who treated me like glass. I wouldn’t have had that kind of treatment from my care provider with my first 2 pregnancies that ended is miscarriages. This new to me doctor was truly sent from above. And if I never had the miscarriages I never would have met him and I certainly wouldn’t have my Samantha. Don’t get me wrong I was very angry with God at that time in my life. However His will was done and even though I thought I could never get through that painful time I did, but not without His help. I did eventually praise Him again and asked in prayer for Him to protect the growing child within me.

I’m sure we all go through a season where we aren’t praising Him. And we’re even angry with him for the “No” answers to prayer. Where we feel abandoned by our God. We need to hold on to His promise that He will never leave or forsake us. And even sing a song here and there that reminds us that He is holy.

Side effects and other thoughts.

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I haven’t made it a secret that I take medication to manage my depression and anxiety. Honestly I wouldn’t be doing as well as I am without the meds. However it comes with a price and for me that price is weight gain. I’m not happy about it at all. The one medication that is known for weight gain is the one medication that pulled it all together for me. It’s an SSRI (selective seratonin reuptake inhibitor) classification. And weight gain among others is a common side effect. I can live with the other side effects it’s the weight gain that’s bugging me the most.

I’ve taken to actually using our treadmill on a regular basis instead of vacuuming the dog hair off of it. My next step is to go to the gym instead of just talking about it and give the new sneakers I had to have a true workout. I remember reading about this medication when I first started taking it back in March of this year. I read the complaints about weight gain but I blew them off thinking, “that won’t be me”. I know I shouldn’t be complaining, I am feeling better and the world is a nicer place as a result of this new med.

I need to stop googling.

In other news I’m still waiting for the new job opportunity to contact me about starting their flu shot clinics. I’m eager to get started. I’m hoping the nose ring doesn’t conflict with their “business casual” dress code. I figure I can get to just about any part of Manhattan by 10 am during the school year after bringing Samantha to school. So now I wait not so patiently.

Adding To The New Ink.

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Tonight I’m going back to the tattoo parlor to have the tattoo artist add on to my newest tattoo. There’s a part near to my inner thigh that I’m not thrilled with. I’ve already discussed this with the artist and he knows what I want. I’m not looking forward to this visit as this last tattoo hurt like hell to have done. None of my other tattoos hurt like this one. I’ve also not received as many compliments on a tattoo as I’ve gotten on this one. Strangers stop me to comment.

I’ve also decided I want another tattoo on my right wrist it will either say “Blessed” or ” Believe”, I haven’t decided yet. I am blessed and I do believe, so there is my lack of decisiveness. I want to be able to cover the tattoo with my watch band or shirt sleeve if need be. The new job opportunity I’m pursuing has a dress code of “business casual” so I’m sure tattoos aren’t a part of that.

I’m leaving now, I’ll probably pick this up after the added on tattoo.

I’m back. The artist suggested another feather to cover the part that was bothering me.  I appreciate his opinion and artistry. Right now my leg is stinging and covered with a bandage. I’ll post a picture soon. A before and after sounds right.

When I quit smoking

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I recently celebrated 4 years of being a non smoker. I quit on June 27th, 2011. Cold turkey; no patch, no gum, no hypnosis, no electronic cigarettes. I’m glad I did it that way, it worked for me. Plus my husband challenged me holding an expensive, much wanted handbag over my head as a reward for quitting. I was a woman possessed and stalked the designer’s website. Every.Single.Night. Debating which bag I was getting.

I remember the kids were all home for the summer. I had read somewhere that it takes 3 days for nicotine to leave your system. Needless to say I was an anxious, irritable mess and my husband was questioning whether this was the best time for me to quit. He called me from work and heard in my voice the anxiety and irritability. He said, “You know…maybe this wasn’t the best time for you to quit what with the kids home all the time…”  I quickly answered, “Oh no…I’m not going back now, I’m 3 days in, I’m not going through these 3 days again!”

My only consolation was cleaning, or rather cleaning out closets and tossing things we no longer needed or thought we no longer needed. Thomas was my ever present helper. After I got done with the closets I felt at a loss, what to clean now?  Ah ha! The attic was perfect :). Armed with my trusty garbage bags, Thomas and I tackled the attic. It became comical after a week or two. Literally right after the trash was collected and our trash pails empty there I was ready to fill them again, and fill them I did. Tommy asked me to slow down. Nope. I couldn’t, I was a woman on a mission.

After a week had passed, it was July 4th. I announced to my husband that it was time to get my handbag I had called the boutique and they were indeed open! However I put a self imposed “catch” to this coveted handbag. I wouldn’t use the bag until I earned it. I would wait until the money I would have spent on smoking equaled the cost of the bag. It took three months believe it or not. I was a pack a day smoker so the cost of one pack of cigarettes times 90 days give or take equaled my beloved purse. I would take it out of the box and dust bag to stare at but I would not use her.

It’s been 4 years and I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss smoking. I do. I don’t miss all the risks and damage to my health. I don’t miss the smell. It’s funny I feel like I can smell a smoker a mile away these days. And part of me feels bad for them especially the young ones. I hope I never go back Tommy already said he’d take my bags away, I can’t have that!