Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

-Maya Angelou

One can only hope that my daughters will know that their beauty is in their love, they confidence, the sweet words that leave their lips. Their beauty lies in them, being them.


I said this

I was sitting there at a gymnastics show off day. I was in awe of how this little girl was throwing her self over the bar with such veracity that she couldn’t stop herself from flipping twice around the bar. Her daddy commented on how tiny she was and how we need to fatten her up this summer, and then it came out of my mouth. “There’s a wedding in August. Not too much, we have already bought the dress.”

I heard myself. I instantly couldn’t believe what I said. I knew my intentions were good. By no means did I think that she would not be as attractive. I was just trying to save a buck. You see the dress size was the only one we could get in time, not the size up. I didn’t mean that this precious girl wouldn’t be precious no matter what size. My only saving thought was that she didn’t hear me, but it came out. It was a humbling reminder that I am much more obsessed with the size on the tag than I would like to admit. What is a buck saved when I just commented on the size of a child’s dress? I was ashamed. I am ashamed.

Here I am, getting married and now all the sudden I am focused on how the dress looks on me. How a dress looks on a child. How my make up is done. I scrutinized my engagements because my arms looked like “squished boudin.” When did this happen? Furthermore, when does it stop?

Here are things I know:
1. I look gorgeous in my engagements. Seriously, my hair is falling perfect in all of them. My eyes are great. I am glowing. Furthermore, I look at those pictures and realize that I am marrying the most handsome and kind ma. Even though he whispered in my ear about this picture:

JOP_2604That I looked like I was wearing a maternity top. I laughed, I then pushed him off the light that we were standing on. It was just like a maternity top. He was right, but I loved it and laughed at this man, because in it all, I knew he thought I was beautiful. Why don’t I look at me the same way, all the time?! I looked at those pictures and the same girl who we bought a perfectly fitting dress for looks beautiful. Her eyes, her skin, her smile is radiant.

2. I know that I not only apologize to the girl cutting my hair, the girl working the make-up counter, but also the girl in the mirror. I apologize that I can’t give them something a bit better to work with. What is wrong with me? This question alone make the following Ted talk both heartbreaking and right on point.

I see me…W



Believe it…

Finding motivation to work out is tough sometimes. I like working out, I don’t like the feeling of starting over. It never fails that I am reminded how hard it is to start over every couple of months. I fall of the bandwagon somewhere.

Before dinner the other night Arg and I decided to go work out. She was excited. It is easy for a 7 year old to get excited about working out when you have the energy of, well, a seven year old. We did the block and then went inside for sit-ups, push-ups, and squats. As we are really getting into all these work-outs the most dreadful thing came out of her mouth, “Geez Ms. Whitney, I can’t believe you are tired.”

Humbly I responded, “Believe it…”

I would have loved to blame it on my 31, almost 32 year old body getting old, but that’s just not true. I simply start and go, start and go, start and go ad nauseam.

I would say that this simply can’t go on any longer, but judging by the past 15 or so years, it can go on, with no end in site. It is just a matter of how bad you want it I suppose.

My question to you: How do you keep going? How do you stay interested in the workouts? I can’t keep letting  a kid show me up!