As we are quickly approaching the end of another summer, were it not so hot, I wouldn't even know what season it was now. I used to love the summer. Over two months of down time, time to rejuvenate the spirit and the soul. Even if it just meant the luxury of sleeping late, I loved it. However, summer, as I knew it, hasn't existed since I graduated from college. Once I started working, my summers were over.
I think the longest vacation I have had since graduation has been a week. One week when I got married and then another week a year later for a delayed honeymoon. Now some of you will jump in here and say "Hey, didn't you have 9 weeks of maternity leave?" Really? Does that count? Do you think I got to sleep late on any of those 63 days I was not working? Did I get to veg in front of the TV all day? Nope.
I never really did anything exciting with my summers. No foreign travel, no pursuit of mastering a hobby. I took some mini trips but, looking back, I never took advantage of the time. In my mind, there was always next summer.
Friends tell me that my summers will make a return, though in abbreviated form, when Josh gets older and wants to go to Disney, Sesame Place, Great Adventure and thousands of other theme parks out there during his summer break. I disagree with them. It still won't be MY summer break. I don't think my summers, and the potential they hold, will return until Josh is grown and out of the home and dear husband and I are retired.
Of course, since retirement these days is somewhere around 80 years old, I may be too old flirt with the gondoliers in Venice and learn to play the drums. On the other hand, at that point all year long will be my summer break, so that will give me plenty of time to try to make it all a reality. Of course, if there is a good show on TV or it requires me getting up early, all bets are off. :)
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
It's 80 degrees outside and I am wearing a jacket
You're all screaming "Why?" I am too. I went to move the car (again, alternate side of the street parking rules REALLY suck) and threw on my black jacket even though I knew it was hot outside. I have this weird need to wear a jacket ALL the time when I am outside my home. Somehow, I feel that by wearing the jacket I look better, less fat somehow. I don't even think about the fact that, without the jacket, rarely anyone would give me a second look. However, with the jacket everyone looks and thinks "Why is that freak wearing a jacket when it is 80 degrees outside?"
The earliest recollection I have of this weird behavior is in the 7th grade. Puberty was in full bloom and, let's just say, I blossomed early in the “boobage” department. Having cleavage that a college student would use to her every advantage, was not as appealing to a shy, slightly overweight, junior high student. I remember being teased mercilessly by classmates and that's when the jacket made its first appearance. I recall that the first jacket I wore was my dad's black members only jacket. I wore it ALL the time. On the heat stifled bus, in the steaming classroom, even when teachers asked if I was warm, I insisted I was cold and needed it.
For years I wore that jacket as a suit of armor. Perhaps, on a deeper level, I thought the jacket offered me some protection. I thought it could protect me from the harsh stares of disapproval, the cruel taunting remarks about my weight. Although it didn't do that, maybe the jacket was my security blanket. Even though it didn't make any sense to do it, wearing that jacket made me feel more emotionally comfortable despite the physical discomfort.
When I lost weight, the jacket disappeared. I only wore jackets when I was really cold. Form fitting tops, accentuating the “bounty that the lord bestowed upon me”, became the norm in my wardrobe. However, when I became pregnant with Joshua and the weight started creeping up, the jacket reared its ugly head again. Think I am crazy today for wearing a jacket? I was certifiable for wearing a jacket in the summer when I was 7 months pregnant! Are you sweating just thinking about it? Now that summer is right around the corner again, I am sorry to say the jacket is still the first thing I grab on my way out the door.
My dear husband thinks I am being silly, he constantly tells me to take the jacket off and not in a sexy way. He pointed out that if I continue to feel this way about myself, so will others, including him. I know he’s right but I can’t seem to stop. Without the jacket I feel naked, vulnerable and I can’t seem to let it go. Sometimes, I think resolving this issue would make a therapist a bundle, definitely enough to pay for a second summer home. Until I am brave enough to tackle these demons, I’ll just try and walk it off by taking a stroll around the block to clear my head. I just need to grab my jacket on the way out.
***Since I missed Monday's post you get two today -- Twofer Tuesday!
The earliest recollection I have of this weird behavior is in the 7th grade. Puberty was in full bloom and, let's just say, I blossomed early in the “boobage” department. Having cleavage that a college student would use to her every advantage, was not as appealing to a shy, slightly overweight, junior high student. I remember being teased mercilessly by classmates and that's when the jacket made its first appearance. I recall that the first jacket I wore was my dad's black members only jacket. I wore it ALL the time. On the heat stifled bus, in the steaming classroom, even when teachers asked if I was warm, I insisted I was cold and needed it.
For years I wore that jacket as a suit of armor. Perhaps, on a deeper level, I thought the jacket offered me some protection. I thought it could protect me from the harsh stares of disapproval, the cruel taunting remarks about my weight. Although it didn't do that, maybe the jacket was my security blanket. Even though it didn't make any sense to do it, wearing that jacket made me feel more emotionally comfortable despite the physical discomfort.
When I lost weight, the jacket disappeared. I only wore jackets when I was really cold. Form fitting tops, accentuating the “bounty that the lord bestowed upon me”, became the norm in my wardrobe. However, when I became pregnant with Joshua and the weight started creeping up, the jacket reared its ugly head again. Think I am crazy today for wearing a jacket? I was certifiable for wearing a jacket in the summer when I was 7 months pregnant! Are you sweating just thinking about it? Now that summer is right around the corner again, I am sorry to say the jacket is still the first thing I grab on my way out the door.
My dear husband thinks I am being silly, he constantly tells me to take the jacket off and not in a sexy way. He pointed out that if I continue to feel this way about myself, so will others, including him. I know he’s right but I can’t seem to stop. Without the jacket I feel naked, vulnerable and I can’t seem to let it go. Sometimes, I think resolving this issue would make a therapist a bundle, definitely enough to pay for a second summer home. Until I am brave enough to tackle these demons, I’ll just try and walk it off by taking a stroll around the block to clear my head. I just need to grab my jacket on the way out.
***Since I missed Monday's post you get two today -- Twofer Tuesday!
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