Dad Bod

So, I don't know if you've heard of this new trend or not, but it's called the "dad bod." Don't know what it is? Allow me to enlighten you, with a little help from Google: A dad bod is the physique of a male that is relatively slim but not lean or toned. Need more help in order to understand? Urban Dictionary explains it as this: A male body type that is "softly round." It's based on the idea that once a man has gotten married and had a child, then he really should no longer concern himself with keeping a nice physique. And get this. Women actually find these dad bods attractive -as in, some women would rather date a guy with a dad bod than a guy with a nicely chiseled physique. And don't start typing ALL CAPS to me about how you have to go beneath the surface and look at what's on the inside; I know that, and that's not what this post is about. I'm talking women choosing dad bods for no other reason than the simple fact that they're dad bods. Personalities are not a factor. I just don't get it.

So, a dad no longer has to concern himself with his weight or his physique after his children are born? Am I understanding this correctly? Let's see now, hmmm, exactly HOW many months did HE carry that baby inside his womb? So he has exactly how many reasons to put on baby weight? According to my calculations, it is exactly zero. Yes, that's right. Zero months and zero reasons. And a womb? He doesn't even have one. I don't think dads should have any excuses to just let themselves go once the baby is born.They should still be able to make healthy food choices and find time to exercise. I mean, it's not like they're nursing the baby or anything.

Also, why isn't the "mom bod" trending? Why aren't men claiming to prefer a rounder version of females? For goodness' sakes, women are the ones actually giving birth to the babies! Women are the ones housing an entire other being within their bodies for nine months, so one might expect these women to carry around some extra weight not only during but after pregnancy as well. Why aren't women allowed to be a little - or even more than a little - overweight without someone being critical or even downright hateful? And this goes for all women, those who are currently or have recently been or have NEVER been pregnant. Why, how many times have we heard things like, "She's had over a year to lose that baby weight," or, "Are you sure you're not carrying twins?" Then, of course, there's the classic, "She'd be so pretty if she would just lose some of that weight."

If you think I was harsh on men in the second paragraph, some of it was tongue-in-cheek. Most of it, however, was based on expectations that society places on women. The pressure that we feel to be thinner or more beautiful is crushing to our self-esteem at times. It's enough to bring on eating disorders, depression, and self-harm issues in many females. Even young girls feel that they are worthless if they don't see themselves as beautiful. 

I know that obesity is unhealthy. I eat right and exercise, and I encourage others to do the same. So I also don't need any irate people writing to tell me about that, either. But eating right and exercising should be about HEALTH, and it should be for BOTH men and women. It shouldn't be something that's forced down women's throats so that we feel we have to meet some unattainable standard of beauty, while at the same time men get a pass to eat however they choose and do very little exercise because it's a trend and because no one really puts pressure on men to look a certain way. There's a double standard in our society, and I am sick of it.

Men are allowed to age gracefully. When a man begins to get a little gray hair around his temples or in his beard, people call it sexy or distinguished. A woman's grey hair will get her called old. Confession: I get a few white hairs from time to time, and I immediately rush right in and color over them. I'm not ready to let them show. I don't really mind getting older, but I do mind people thinking that I'm "old." It's just not that cool to be an old woman. I don't care what that song says about older women being beautiful lovers; one look at Ulta or Sephora and you know that women are paying big bucks to look young. Yes, I know that dying your hair grey is a trend. But that's for young people. It's not the same as actually going gray, and everybody knows it.

So, yeah, this whole dad bod trend has ticked me off. At first, I thought it was funny, but then I contemplated it a little longer. That's when I realized how it truly brings to light how unfairly women are treated in regards to beauty standards. Why is it trendy for men to be out of shape? As I thought about it more and more, I got angry. Not taking care of your body should never be a trend, but if it is, then why isn't a trend for both sexes?

Finally, I do not expect my spouse to have washboard abs, nor does he expect me to look like a supermodel. I'm not saying that in this post. I'm also not saying that we should spend excessive amounts of time in the gym, away from our families, in order to attain the perfect body. I'm saying that both dads and moms should take care of their bodies. I'm saying that women should be treated with respect and admired for their beauty regardless of their weight or body type. I'm saying that I want my daughters to grow up in a world where it's okay not to look like Scarlett Johansson, and, also, sweetheart, your husband probably won't look like Jason Momoa, either. And that's okay.

A Unique Grief

There's a unique grief that belongs only to those of us who are parents of children with special needs. It's a grief that can lie dormant and unnoticed for seasons, and then it can come flooding back all at once in fresh rivers of pain and sorrow. Maybe it's a Facebook post with a photograph of happy children around your child's age, celebrating a birthday at a party to which you and your family weren't invited. Perhaps it's a post about how someone's child has reached a milestone or won another trophy in a sport or been elected class president, or maybe someone tells you about how their children are reading or asking for books to be read to them or, hey, even talking at all. I don't know what it may be, but something triggers that overwhelming sense of loss deep within you. And you know people don't mean to hurt you. And you also know that they have every right to share their joy about their children's successes. Then you feel guilty because you think that you must not love your child enough because some part of you longs for them to be like other children. Plus, you also feel guilty because you resent other parents for no reason other than the fact that they simply have neurotypical children. I don't know about other special needs parents, but I can get stuck here for days or perhaps weeks. Honestly, I've been stuck there sometimes for months and even years. I still have to fight to keep a root of bitterness from growing in my heart.

I get so angry sometimes. I look at people who can take family vacations, and I can't even take my daughter to the grocery store without my husband's help. She is in a phase of going into a total meltdown almost every time I speak to her. She spends most of her days in her room; she doesn't come out until my husband gets home from work in the evening. I try to interact with her and get her to come out and spend time with me, but when I do, she will just self-harm. She is non-verbal, so there's not really much chance that I can figure out exactly what it is that I've done wrong and exactly why it is that she suddenly comes running out of her room smiling when she hears my husband's voice in the evening. No, this is not what I envisioned when I thought about parenting my daughter. She is nine years old now, and I had plans of talking about clothes and hair and staying up late at night, just the two of us laughing and talking. I imagined baking and making messes together in the kitchen. I never got the years of tea parties and dress-up or baby dolls and Little House on the Prairie and Anne of Green Gables. I will never get the prom or the wedding planning or the excitement of her first baby. So many missed milestones; so many fresh waves of grief.

I have no words of wisdom here. I cannot say that I have found some perfect way of dealing with this. Therapy helps. I've learned coping skills. And I take this day by day, hour by hour, and minute by minute.

This Day

Every new day is a gift. I thought about this yesterday while driving, which is often the time during which I can do my deepest thinking. I began to think about how this concept plays out in my life. I thought about the fact that there are two opposing ideas that mingle together in my mind; they fight against one another for victory over my thoughts and actions. And the winner of the battle can change on any given day. 

What I know and what I feel become tangled up in a mass of emotions and pain that can be almost impossible to unravel. Even though I know that each day is a gift, that concept is still a paradox to someone like me who struggles with suicidal ideations. There are days in which I feel that my life is a curse. There are times in which I want to end my life. At these points, I cannot see how my life is a gift at all. My emotions and my logic are fighting a duel to the death. One is the voice of truth and life, while the other is the voice of depression and lies; however, even armed with this knowledge, I am not always able to silence the voice of despair and death. Sometimes it wins, and I just want to give in and give it what it wants.

I know there will be times when I am unable to think logically, so in order to equip myself for the battle, I've applied some practical strategies that I've learned over the years. I have notecards with truth placed in various places around my home. When the negative thoughts are overriding the positive ones, I can read these cards aloud and speak reality into my situation. I have a three-ring binder with printouts of coping skills and strategies I've learned in therapy. I have to be proactive, and I have to be prepared. 

I also take my anti-depressant medications, and I see my psychiatrist once every two months. I see my therapist once a month, and I have to be honest with my medical professionals about my struggles and feelings. In addition to all of this, I must take care of my body. Physical health and mental health are closely related. I eat a healthy diet, and I exercise regularly. I get as much sleep as is possible for any parent of a young child with severe special needs. I take time to do things that I enjoy. I try to appreciate each day that the Lord gives me. 

So, yes, each day is truly a gift, even to someone who struggles with thoughts of suicide. I am thankful for my life, even though there are times in which I want to end it. I truly hope to live my life in such a way that it becomes a gift to myself and others. And I am determined to keep depression from stealing that from me.

Self-Care Giveaway Winner

The winner of the self-care giveaway is Kelli Bryson. Her Twitter entry was randomly selected by Rafflecopter as the winning entry. Thank you to all who participated. Kelli has been notified by e-mail. Watch for other giveaways coming soon. And, remember, keep taking care of yourselves!

Self-Care Giveaway

I've discussed the importance of self-care in previous posts, and for those of us with depression, it can be difficult to find the energy to practice it. Well...I'm here to help you out!!! I've got some fabulous hair and skin care items that I'd like to give you so that you can pamper yourself a little. Featured in this giveaway are:
1. CeraVe Hydrating Cleanser
2. Metta Intensive Replenishing Face Balm
3. Philosophy Miracle Worker Overnight Moisturizer
4. OleHenriksen Invigorating Night Treatment Gel & Sheer Transformation Creme
5. Josie Maran Organic Moisturizing Oil
6. Egyptian Magic All Purpose Skin Cream
7. L'Oreal Total Repair Shampoo & Conditioner
8. Nunzio Saviano Anti-Frizz Sheets

Now, how can you win? Simply follow these instructions:

First, you can leave a comment here telling me how you practice self-care. For other entry options, follow the Rafflecopter instructions. The winner will be notified in seven days. Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Birthday Week

I'm excited to announce that my birthday is this week, and I'll be turning 42! Yes, you read that correctly; I am thrilled about being in my 40's. It's been my best decade yet-so far, anyway. I'm finally comfortable in my own skin. I have figured out what's truly important in life. I no longer take things for granted. Plus, birthdays are fun! I don't have to cook or clean on mine. I get gifts. I get to be reminded of how much I am loved by family and friends. I get to be thankful for another year that the Lord has given me. And my sweet sister took me out this past weekend to celebrate with lunch and a movie. (We saw Beauty and the Beast, which, by the way, is fabulous.) We also made a stop by Ulta, which is where I scored this lovely beauty haul you see featured in the pic above. Literally, I treated myself from head to toe! I got three headbands, a cucumber eye kit, exfoliating body scrub, creamy body wash, luxurious body wash, body lotion, and nail polish. So, happy birthday to me!

My happy "I just got back home with goodies from Ulta" face.

When The Dark Days Come Again

This picture is from my Instagram post a couple of days ago. The darkness is trying to pull me back in. I don't know why this time. Sometimes I can trace it back to an event or an issue in my life: loss, lack of sleep, forgetting my meds, a sudden change. But none of those things have happened. And that just makes it worse. I want to figure this out. I want a reason for my depression. I want to blame this on something. Here's the thing, though: depression just is. You can't always attach it to something. Certain events can exacerbate it. A tragedy can precipitate it. There are individuals who can make it worse. But these things don't cause it. So here I sit again, feeling helpless and numb at the same time, moving through each day in robotic motions on an endless cycle of repeat. These are the days in which it takes every bit of my strength just to get out of bed, the days in which I try to avoid the grocery store (but if I do have to go, I'm silently praying the whole time that I won't see anyone I know), the days in which the sound of my phone ringing sends me into a panic, the days in which human interaction of any kind is just so hard. I want to just curl up into a protective little ball under a blanket and hide. But I can't. My family needs me, and I want to be there for them.

 This leads me to another point. I feel guilty for having depression. I know it's not my fault, but I still feel that my family suffers too much because of it-because of me. Then, of course, some people perpetuate that feeling. They will tell you to "snap out of it." They might even tell you that "it could be worse." And I want to yell, "Don't you think I'd snap out of it if I could?" Oh, and it could be worse? Yes, I know that it could be worse. That still doesn't negate the fact that depression is hard, and it's my daily struggle. It doesn't need to be minimized or trivialized.

So, what do I do on these darkest of days? Obviously, the first thing I need to do is to let my doctor know that I've gotten into a dark place again. Secondly, I need to talk about what I'm feeling-even if I don't want to. That's one thing this blog helps me do. Here are some other things that I do (which may seem completely shallow to some of you) that don't cure my depression but at least make me feel a little better:

1. Wear my favorite outfit - as seen in the pic below (that T-shirt reads "I'm a freakin' ray of sunshine!")
2. Put on my favorite jewelry. (long silver earrings with lots of hoops, black and silver bracelet-also in pic below)
3. Do my best makeup look.
4. Style and color my hair. (pixie cut and RED!)
5. Listen to my favorite music. 
6. Watch my tried and true favorite comedies. ( The Office, Friends, Cheers, Frasier, Seinfeld)
7. Eat foods that I really enjoy. 

"But you, LORD, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me."                Psalm 22:19