Anyway, it was a good day. I got a text from my sister. Talked on the cell a bit, and got a thank you note from Stevie D, my grand daughter. The note was my favorite color, pink, with glittery sparkles on it. Stevie is almost a clone of me, but I hope she does not think that's a bad thing for me to say. Hmmm, no, she would enjoy my comparison… with a smile.
I must confess that my challenge to trim down was lost to a bowl of ice cream tonight. A burnt red, salad size Longaberger bowl filled to over the brim with chocolate carmel round ice cream chunks. I gobbled it up with a soup spoon. Yum! By the way, I have many Longaberger items, because my daughter sells it, and I am a good mother.
Tomorrow, I vow to get back on the fitness horse and ride again to the blue yonder of been thin before, so I can be again. I have a fab DVD that I bought two years ago so I could get into shape. (I do have a few kids, all birthed the old fashioned way.) I broke the cello wrapper on that DVD today. Tomorrow, I may finally slide it into my DVD player. No surprise. That's me. I guess looking at the case standing next to the stapler on my office desk was losing weight through osmosis. Yeah!
BTW, in my discovery journey to learn who I am, I decided that I must be a good person, because dogs have this instinct. They seem to know the difference between good people, and those who need a hair-standing growl -- followed by the bark from hell. That's my Bailey. He loves his mommy. That's me.
The question of the day, for myself, is this. How did I get to be who I am?
So I reached back in time and plucked a day from my childhood as if I was pulling apples out of a barrel full of fun on Halloween. Here it is...
I was in the kitchen, sitting on the drainboard, (not a granite counter top) and my mother was feeding me spoonfuls of whipped cream. It was real whipped cream. The bowl wasn't a Longaberger bowl, but as my vision comes clear, it may have been a glass bowl. I was about 5 or 6 or 7 years old then. I suddenly realized that I used to be this stick of a kid. Not thin. Skinny as bones. I was eating bowls of whipped cream to fatten me up. Now, come on, skinny or not, was that a good habit for me to learn as a child? Today, I love whipped cream. No, no, no. I adore it. It's all fluffy and creamy and tasty as I scoop it off pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving dinner. Double yum! Hmmm, I wonder if that moment in my childhood history has anything to do with my not being so thin today.
I might be on to something here. I'll give this more thought and report my findings later.