Own Your Beauty - BlogHer Post

                                                                      
                                                              


                                                     
                                            
Own Your Beauty at BlogHer is dedicated to changing the way women see themselves, talk about themselves, feel about themselves. After reading their mission statement below, I knew I had to be a part of the movement happening there. I've taken the pledge to change how we think about ourselves, as women.

I am proud that a post I submitted to Own Your Beauty at BlogHer is syndicated there today.


As BlogHer states it, so well:


Let’s take all the energy we've spent on endless loops of negative feedback about everything from the way we live our lives to our butts, our hips, our boobs and, for pete's sake, even our ankles - and use it instead to power something positive and meaningful.

Let's celebrate the beauty of authenticity and share it with everyone we know.

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We are the beautiful people. All women. Every one of us. And that's amazing.

Own Your Beauty is a groundbreaking, year-long movement bringing women together to change the conversation about what beauty means. Our mission: to encourage and remind grown women that it is never too late to learn to love one's self and influence the lives of those around us - our mothers, friends, children, neighbors. We can shift our minds and hearts and change the path we follow in the pursuit of authentic beauty.

Each month, we'll be talking about a different theme. In February, your hosts -- Karen Walrond of Chookooloonks, Caitlin Boyle of Operation Beautiful and Bonnie Crowder of The Shape of a Mother -- are talking about spirituality. (Next month, we'll be talking about humor.)


I do hope you click over, sign up, pledge, and join the group of us together, who are working to be heard with the message of loving ourselves the way we are.

I would love to see you at BlogHer, and have you join our group.


Click HERE to take the Own Your Beauty Pledge.


Own Your Beauty. Change the Conversation. Add your name to the BlogHer statement of belief. Pass it on.


THANK YOU! (psssst.....a little comment and some sparkly love over at BlogHer today would make my day. xo)

I Live With Men and So I Turn To You

Can I pull this one off?

In true Empress style, I have waited till the last minute.

I have a HUGE life event this Saturday. HUGE.

Life changing life affirming life altering la vie en large. 

I'm auditioning for the Listen To Your Mother Show in Madison, Wisconsin, this Saturday, February 12, at 11:00 a.m.

I really want this and I am going to go for it.

Go Fight Win, right? Well.....


Now, 2 DAYS BEFORE THIS AWESOME OPPORTUNITY...while I sit here in the middle of a pile of pulled out from the closet clothes, face in hands, I suddenly remember...

I don't know how to dress.  

I have been inside a house either gestating or lactating since 1995. What does one wear to an audition? What? Hubs says, "you look good in anything." (yeah, I know, he is so good.) Teens say, "mom....we don't want to look at you like that." (huh? teenage boys...what does that even mean?")  Baby E says, "momma, I like your red pajamas best."

What to do? Then, a moment of clarity...I am NOT * lone woman walking the planet.*


I'm not.

I've got some help.

I know the BEST peeps for this job.

What the heck and geez louise...but I should've thought of this before.

YOU, You, my sweet friends.

I.need.you.

And who is cooler and what is cooler than cool? Ice Cold You.

I've been tweeting about the Listen To Your Mother Show audition that I have this Saturday. THIS.

I had the deep hair conditioning treatment done for the Winter Dredlocks (took a gallon of oil, thank you.)

The nails are a beautiful, retro Lucy Ricardo fedora red...thank you to Hyui Lin (you are a DOLL, girl.)

I'm getting the beauty sleep so I don't look like a psycho with red lipstick but, oh,  she has glossy hair!

My confession: I don't know what to wear. I don't know what to wear. I don't know what to wear.

Please, if you have a heart, vote in a comment below. Here are the looks I'm contemplating:

Ethnic. As in, "My...we're looking ethnic today."

Smart. As in, "Wow. No accessories needed, her brain's enough."

Sugar and Spice. I've got 2 more years left on this look, I think I can do it.

Glamour Woman. I'll even bring this chair.

Hip Chick. Sometimes, that's all you need to know.

Leave me a comment and a vote, please. Have pity for a woman living with 4 males. What look should I go for?

AND: consider trying out yourself for the Listen To Your Mother shows in Austin, Valparaiso, Madison, Los Angeles, Spokane. Go HERE for audition information. You just need to want to do it!

You know, I could always go as me:

Yeah, I'm a Freak

I have a son. A son whom I adore.

He is one of three, the middle one.

He doesn't laugh as much as the other two, or as often as the other two, he never has.

So, when this boy does open up the heavens and hand over the pearl of a gift that his laugh is, ..our entire household stops in our tracks, and we communally surrender to the surprise and the sweetness of the sound of middlest laughing.

It is such a treat, that when we hear it, we announce it, like one excitedly shouts the winner of a race.

"Hey! I made middlest laugh!"

"Mom? Did you hear that? I made middlest laugh."  

"Hey, boys...did you hear that? I just made your brother laugh."

Sometimes, the joy and exhilaration I feel at being able to make him laugh are such a rush, that I question what I've just heard.  I ask....just to be sure... "Hey, hon...did I just make you laugh?," I want to be sure.

I will stop at NOTHING to hear this child laugh.

It's all fair game. All is fair in laughter and war: physical humor, cheap shtick, corny jokes, the chicken dance. Do I care what I look like? No. All of it is in my arsenal. I can flap my arms and knock my knees like nobody's business.

I stop at NOTHING. It is hopeless to resist. I am on to what he likes and that which tickles his funny bone.

He likes the quick jabs.

The one two punch.

The unexpected twist on his brothers, gets him every time.

The build up...then the surprise he didn't see coming.

He likes the call back to events from earlier in the day. 

I have studied him and now major in him.

This boy doesn't stand a chance.

"Hey, middlest, did I ever tell you I went to Yale?"

"You did, mom?"

"Yep. Don't you want to know when?"

"Yeah. I didn't know you went to Yale, mom. When did you go?"

"I yust got out."

*Ba dum dum*

You stand no chance, my beautiful boy. And I will show no mercy.

I.love.you.

Just When I Was Beginning To Like You

Life is a funny thing. Life is a funny thing, Mama.

Look at any random magazine cover, and the headlines all scream “Like yourself better!” and “Be awesome in 10 days or less!”

Self help and self improvement books threaten to burst the shelves at any book store from the weight of all the titles. All screaming for you! you! to buy and become a better you. A you that is different from what you are.

It is a good thing to take stock, yes, and to set your sights on honing a skill,  learning a new hobby,  trying something new, or improving on something you’ve let fall to the wayside.

But to become a different, improved, better, more likable you?

Why?

Since I can remember, I have sadly been loyal to the screaming headlines of how to be prettier, have a better body, make more friends, get a new personality, become more alluring and magnetic and irresistible to man, woman, and all things living and breathing.

And, now, in this last half of my life, I have turned off the noise. I have become tired of it. What is wrong with being who I am?

I no longer want to fight what is natural and what is me.

Since the 8th grade, I have been stretching and pulling and snatching myself bald headed in pathetic attempts to give myself straight, swingy hair. The kind of hair that I see girls toss across their shoulder and hold in one hand while they lean in and delicately take a drink from the water fountain. I want the hair from the Long and Silky shampoo commercials. What I have instead is short, coarse, and nappy--and I don’t want to fight my hair anymore.

I have spent my entire life wishing for the small, pert nose that is everywhere. What is on my face instead? A nose strong enough to hold a 2 inch thick eyeglass prescription, were I ever to need that.

And, I am flat chested. I am as small breasted as is humanly possible. I remember hunting for a bra at Victoria’s Secret in my size. The perfect Barbie came over and asked how she could help. I told her I couldn’t find 28AAA, to which she laughed and said, “no one makes that size. The smallest we have is 32B.” That would be a bigger cup size than I’d ever need. In 3 lifetimes.

I’m tired of it. This year, I began letting my hair curl and go. I turn sideways now and let my European profile stunningly cut a picture, and the bra? I just wear double layered T shirts.

But the thing is, now that I am Okay with what I am--my body is giving out.

I have to hobble for a few seconds when I first stand up from a cross legged position.  When I bend over, you hear more crackles and pops than a bowl of Rice Krispies, and my energy? Am I the only one that loves red lights because they allow mini naps?

Why now, Body? Why now when I just have decided that you are the one for me? The only one? That I love you--curly haired, flat chested, big nosed and all? Why?

It is such an irony… I’ve had the love of my life here all along, I could have been enjoying it, not cursing it. And now, sigh, it’s starting to go.

Just when I began to see its beauty.

I hope it forgives me and allows me at least ten more years, to treat it right, and appreciate it for the glorious uniquene miracle that it is.

Thank You, FunnynotSlutty

Remember how I told you all---oh, about 25 times--that if you were looking for some funny for your blog, to browse around the website FunnynotSlutty? The premiere comedy website for women, by women, featuring women? And anyone who likes REALLY funny? Not lame-o funny?

Well, for my link up here today for Friday Funny with the Mayor of CrazyTown, I found this.

2 minutes long and laughing all the way.

Truly funny. I had to watch it over more than once, the laughter felt so good.

You will enjoy.

Thank you, Jacki, for all you do to keep us smiling out here with the awesome FunnynotSlutty.