Physical Self

I’ve been semi-avoiding this week’s prompt because it’s not an easy one to own up to.  For week #3 we are to:

 Describe your physical self.

Your size – clothes size
Scars
Eye colour
Draw your hands
Finger Prints

Now if I still weighed 120 pounds and still had my dark brown hair, this wouldn’t have been such a mental issue for me.  Yet other members of this Facebook group have been able to own up to their aging physical selves, which seldom is the same as it was 40 or so years ago, so why should I be any different.  So, here goes:

I was always a “stick girl,” growing up.  Meaning, I was as skinny as a stick.  I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the song “Alice, where are you going….” but for those who aren’t, the words go like this:

Alice, where are you going?

Upstairs to take a bath.

Alice has legs like toothpicks

And a neck like a giraffe.

Alice got in the bathtub,

Then she pulled out the plug.

Oh my goodness, oh my soul,

There goes Alice, down the hole!

Glub! Glub! Glub!

Naturally I took great offense to that song; perhaps deep down inside that’s part of why I’m heavy today.

I was able to stay skinny as a rail up until my first child was born.  I am (or was, I’ve shrunk a little now) 5’5” tall, and weighed 120 pounds when I got married.  Thirteen months later, after the birth of our first child, I weighed 140 pounds.  I felt FAT!  Looking at pictures from my younger days, I actually didn’t look fat at all, but this was the Twiggy era, where if you didn’t weigh 67 pounds and look like a beanpole, you were considered overweight. 

I weighed 120 pounds on my wedding day in 1967 

Today, I’m 66 years old and probably 190 pounds, although I haven’t gotten on a scale for several months so it could be more.   I used to have dark brown hair—now it’s got a lot of gray in it.  I dyed it for a while, but it got to be a big hassle so I decided about 10-15 years ago to just let it go.  My hair has always been thin and fine, and it’s even more so than it was in my younger days.  I keep it short, and have for years.  When my second oldest daughter got married 20 years ago, we both started growing our hair out at the same time.  Hers eventually grew halfway down her back before she chopped it off.  Mine never got past shoulder length, so off it went and it’s been short ever since.

My eyes are hazel—my mom said—so I believe it.  My kids say they are golden with dark flecks, from reading some of the other posts, that seems to be the perfect description of hazel.  Their dad has blue eyes, and all of my kids have what they call “puke green” eyes.  I guess blue and gold makes puke green.

I have a few scars, two from two c-sections (one vertical, one “bikini”), one or maybe two small scars from gall bladder surgery about 10 years ago; a smallpox vaccination scar, stretch marks from 6 kids; a scar on my right calf from being hit there by a broken pop bottle, tossed through the bushes by a neighbor boy when I was 12, and I happened to be standing in the wrong spot.  A few others from various scratches or who knows from what, after all these years. 

Since it’s taken me this long to write this without the hand prints, etc., I’m going to forego those or it might be weeks before I got around to doing it.  Maybe I’ll add them in later on.  My hands are kind of on the small side, my fingers are kind of chubby, as I can no longer wear my wedding ring.  I used to love rings, but now they make my fingers feel claustrophobic, so I don’t wear any. I have pierced ears, but discovered after having them pierced back when I was 18, that I am allergic to nickle, so can't wear most earrings or any other jewelry unless it's sterling silver or 14k gold.  Or plastic.  I wear size 8 shoes, I think having twins flattened my feet out as I wore size 7 before they were born.  

I blame my children for my overweight self, but seriously, they may have contributed some, but the fault is mostly mine.  Can't seem to put down the Cheetoes bag or the chocolate.  Sigh!

That’s my physical self in a nutshell.

Me, at our family picnic & water fight--no longer 120 pounds, obviously.

That delightful person throwing water on me is that #2 daughter.