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Saturday, May 22, 2010

Uninvited Invaders and Dear Bathing Suit

Since both of these topics are spurred by the same experience, taking off my clothes, I just thought I should put them together.

Uninvited Invaders


lumpy fat deposits, esp. in the thighs and buttocks.

Special thanks to for that one...however, I must say NO SHIT!!! Lumpy fat deposits...ya think???!!!???

I am grossed did they get there? I never invited them to take up residence in my thighs, but they're here...fat deposits...wonderful.


Trust me, I didn't just get them...they've been there for a little while, but I've recently begun to take more of an interest in them. No, not enough to get liposuction (however it's not completely out of the question), but enough to seriously inspect about an exercise in self-control.

There was no crying in the making of this post.

Wikipedia says this:

Cellulite is a topographic skin change that is claimed to occur in most postpubertal females.

"Claimed to occur???" Seriously??? Do you not have eyes??? These are not empty claims. The cellulite is real and it's here to stay. No one would claim this shit unless it was real. Trust me.

Wikipedia also says that you shouldn't wear tight undies because "Wearing tight underwear enhances cellulite formation by impeding the flow of lymphatic fluid in the hips and thighs." Ummm...gross, but thanks for the tip.

Seriously, calling it orange peel syndrome or cottage cheese does not make it any more actually just makes me lose my appetite for oranges and cottage cheese (although I'm not sure I had one to begin with anyway). Orange farmers should be pissed that they're likening their precious crops to this hideous womanly occurrence.

Anyway, I'm putting it out there...I have's on the back of my legs fer sher and definitely on the front. Husband claims not to see it...yeah...gotta love him, but he's full of shit...either that or I need to have a chat with his optometrist b/c something ain't right there!

Just going on record for saying that I could see why women get lipo as nothing else will fix this horror show...if only I could get lipo without having to go under the laughy gas and with a short recovery time...oh, and it were covered by insurance!

Dear Bathing Suit,

I'm not sure you got the memo about your job description. I'm only saying this because you're doing everything wrong. I hope you understand that I love you and, while I understand that I don't have much of a choice, I will burn you at the stake if you don't shape up.

You are responsible for the following tasks:
  • Your deliciously decorated fabric must distract viewers from the growing patches of cellulite on the backs of my legs. If you're not distracting, then we have issues.
  • Your straps must no longer cut into my back fat.
  • Your boob cups must actually cup my boobs...I don't want any possibility of a nip slip while in the pool with my matter how hard they tug.
  • If my tummy should happen to pop out, it is your job to restrain it...I mean, come on, you're all spandexy, right? Hold that shit in place for the love of God!!! It's not my fault that my body took on another shape entirely after birthing the Crazies...however, it will be your fault if you don't do something about it...and soon.
  • Please cease and desist all battles you are having with my ass cheeks for position. Your position is under my ass cheek...not in the middle, not one at a time (even if it makes your job easier), and God take mercy on your soul if you even think about going higher!!! Just stay put! Don't let the cheek get the best of you! Hang in there!!!
That is all for now. Please remember that if I could avoid all interactions with you, I would, but I need you. I paid dearly for you. I swore to Husband that you would be better than the bathing suits I already own, but you're kinda letting me down. I hope I don't have to send another letter outlining my needs. I really thought you'd work out when I first brought you aboard and I would hate to be wrong about that.

Sincerely, Rebecca

Schizo Swimming Saturdays

I am tired just thinking about this morning.

Here's today's schedule:

6:00 - Mom up to shower and wonder how she could have hurt her back/shoulder again...sleeping...yes, sleeping.
7:00 - Dad up to shower and wake up before Crazies emerge.
7:01 - Mom hears first Crazy noises...damn small house with no sound barriers...damn loud shower...damn creaky floors...
7:02 - Mom realizes that she should eat some sort of breakfast.
7:03 - All blog schedule posts become made up or futuristic since Mom needs to finish this and have breakfast. Here's how I see the rest of it going.
7:30 - Crazies up and at em!
7:45 - Mom gets dressed and tries to leave house for cycling.
7:46 - Matt puts Mom's sneakers on.
7:47 - Hailey wants drink from Mom's water bottle. Mom looks for sneakers...where the hell are they???
7:48 - Mom asks Dad why Crazies aren't in their highchairs yet. Dad gets annoyed b/c he doesn't like being told what to do.
7:49 - Crazies say good-bye to Mom and collapse in fit of tears as they won't see her for 1.5 hours. Dad curses b/c it's impossible to get Crazies in high chairs while in the midst of a tantrum. Mom quietly closes the door behind her and feels relief that it's not her who has to clean up that mess.
7:50 - Mom in car to spin.
8:15 - Spin starts...legs feel like they're going to fall off...seriously.
9:15 - Crap...forgot again that this class is 75 minutes...why do I keep coming back???
9:30 - Finally! Done! Rush to car to get home to relieve Dad.
9:45 - Open the door to Crazyland. Dad is vacuuming (intensely) and Crazies are following him around trying to rip attachments off of vacuum.
9:50 - Mom tells Dad to get ready for the gym (because he gets preoccupied trying to gain maximum suck-power out of Dyson) and tries to eat a snack in relative privacy, but Crazies end up begging (yes, begging) for a bit of whatever she's managed to throw together.
10:00 - Dad is off to the gym. Crazies tearfully watch him from front window and Mom takes this as an opportunity to throw more food down her gullet...quietly.
10:05 - Crazies play, Mom cleans up/looks at crap on the internet.
10:06 - Crazies want to play on the computer.
10:07 - Mom's computer time is over...shuts the laptop...ignores crying Crazies.
10:25 - Time for snack and a little TV for the Crazies. Time to pack the pool bag and make lunch.
10:35 - Crazies are fighting over food again and throwing some to Brie (just to drive me extra-specially crazy).
10:40 - Mom announces that snack time is over and decides to start getting ready for swim class. Crazies in suits, admire Crazies in suits, take pictures of Crazies in suits, change poop diaper (never fails), get shoes on, get Crazies in car.
11:15 - Pull out of driveway.
11:23 - Get to club, drag Crazies and pool bag across parking lot that never fails to give me a panic attack.
11:30 - Find Husband and get Crazies (and myself...gasp, gag, gross, wanna keep my clothes on, whine) out of clothes and ready to get into pool.
11:42 - Amble up to pool and jump in...desperately try to remain cheery even though I'm exhausted from spin, my stomach flub is desperately trying to escape from my tankini, I can't remember if I used waterproof mascara, and the thought of blowing bubbles with all of these other kids and adults seriously makes me want to wash my mouth out with anti-bacterial gel...I'm so grossed out.
12:15 - Drag kids out of pool...Matthew is happy, but Hailey is sorrowful. Be on extra alert as Hailey keeps trying to get back into the pool and Matt just wants to throw the mulch from an ill-placed palm tree all over the place.
12:17 - Get into Family Changing Room. Reassure kids that we're "okay" because they're scared of Family Changing Rooms (so many echoes). Get wet suits off and dry clothes on. Repack bag and wait for Husband to get his stuff.
12:30 - What is taking him so long?
12:45 - Home, lunch, change diapers, deal with tantrums from swim-tired Crazies, and off for naps.
1:30 - Mom passes out on couch...swimming seriously exhausts us.
2:30 - Surprised, Mom wakes from slumber, can't believe she fell asleep. Damn...hurt shoulder again!!! How? Slept wrong!!!

Those are our Saturdays right now...if you made it this far, I thank you...what are your craziest days?

If you made it this far, you may agree with Husband that my blog posts are too long, but what can I say? I have a lot to get out and I have no time to get to a therapist right now, so the blog takes the brunt of it. You are wonderful for giving a shit to this, leave a comment so I feel like all of this has a point!