In spite of the day of the week, I find myself home again. No, I’m not ill – we have someone coming to install a smart meter for our gas and electricity, so one of us needed to stay behind to be here when the workman/men show up. Which is why, unlike most days I’m at home, I’m in ‘real’ clothing. Oh sure, jeans and a t-shirt isn’t radically different to athletic/jammy pants and a t-shirt, but it does a lot to get one in a specific mindset. For example, knowing that the meter people could be here as soon as the top of the hour has spurned me and my jeans into getting on the ball with blogging; I don’t want to forget because I’ve got something different going on today!
I do hope they don’t take too long though, if only for the fact the power is going to be off. We were quoted half an hour, which… I can get by on laptop and pilfered-from-work-BT-internet for that, but as humid and warm as it is today, I admit to being gibbering at the concern of being uncomfortable and sticky. It’s said it’s going to rain today, which could be good, and could be bad. If it doesn’t, then we can go outside where it’s likely to be cooler and less sticky. If it does, then we can hope it brings the ambient humidity down enough to be livable. I guess it’ll be a crapshoot… such is life.
And from the news, I saw this a few times over in the past 24, and I’m still mulling over it:
Models ‘not to blame’ for eating disorders in children
This sort of thing worries me, if only because it’s trying to take the blame out of society’s obsession with looks and weight. Oh sure, there’s definitely a mental illness element, but you know what? We’ve got a government shaming people for being fat, a culture that shames people for being fat, and the message is being received from birth onwards. You want to say that little kids can’t be getting it from magazines and tv? No, they’re getting it from mommy and daddy getting it from magazines and tv, and them groaning on and on about their weight. The blame is on every.last.one.of.us, and I for one am throwing up my hands and saying, ‘Guilty’. It’s much better than pretending that I don’t currently do it, and then passing it on to my poor child.
Instead, I am working to accept myself in my post-baby shape and role. I might never be a tiny sex kitten again, and you know what? That’s fine, it’s more than fine. I’ve always known that beauty fades with age, and I think that helps me adjust my mentality a bit. This isn’t to say that I’m ‘letting go’ of myself, but I’m not going to waste my time and energy worrying about faddish dieting, or exercising to lose weight. Instead, I shall focus on health – working out as I find it enjoyable and pleasurable (rarely, ha ha), and enjoying good food. I will still endeavour to dress myself in a flattering manner, and I will hope that my example will help to teach my daughter to love herself for the spunky and adorable little person she is, rather than seed her with self-doubt and self-loathing. I’m sure I’ll still screw her up other ways… but that’s just life. 😉