The Love of Great Clothes

As I begin to lose weight, I have options, buy all new clothes. Nope. Or rent, yes rent. Find my new size, style and live my former I. Magnin management life. I enjoy clothes that are well made, have lining, and style that is not in every storefront. Now, I am a teacher and cannot afford five digit outfits, but I can look like a million bucks before I walk into a room of preteens and teens if I rent. Some do it to save the planet, I do it to save a buck or two, while walking into the room wearing quality and feeling confident with no itchy tags. No driving and shopping. Just a monthly bill and choices galore that I go through on my phone when I have a minute. Over the summer there are no working days, it will be handbags, sunglasses, and other accessories. Along with an occasional dress.

Rent the Runway is my go to with rental options. The best part is that if you love it you can buy it! From casual daily wear to gowns, you can rent it all. Plans start from five to fifteen pieces a month. The cost is about $100 to $200 a month. Now stop and think how much you spend on disposable wear. My number was too high and I was buying crap and just rebuying yearly. This is my problem solver and not a paid ad!

Intermittent Fasting Continues

It’s been approximately a month. I have had my good girl and bad girl moments. During this time I knew I needed more guidance. I have found the holy grail for menopause mama’s and rid myself of all the other weight loss noises in my life. Good-bye Weight Watchers, good-bye Noom, again and the Carb manager app I was using as I tried to rid myself of all things good, while fasting. All at once. I went deep and fast. That never works. It didn’t.

But I am back. A new sensation on this tenth day that will not leave me is hunger. Not just in the morning but throughout the day. All my deep dives give the same song and dance, allow me to paraphrase the countless holes of information that gave me a ray of hope and more hunger. Don’t quit, you will get used to it, only two to four weeks and it is just another daily skill, and the worst, some have no hunger after two days. Who are you? We must meet so you can share your recipes. But not quitting. Not this time. What’s three more weeks of feeling hungry, grumpy, and tired if on the otherside is my menopause mama holy grail to weight loss and health.

The changes I have made are drastic, although I sneak a carb now and then. I am sugar and almost carb free, my calories are low and my overall carb intake in in range of Keto. My vitamin intake is huge and have added juice shots for added benefits. I am all in and I feel accomplished. My steps have risen and I am closing in on 300 rides. My mind is clear. A big step and I have a bit more energy. A bit. But I am hungry. But my clothes feel better. But I am hungry. So, wjile no drastic scale changes, I feel but better. That’s enough. For now, it is alot.

My new lifestyle guru, the creator of the Galvaston diet, and some great products.

The Suit

Water is not my thing, even as a child. Ironically, I grew up in a desert with a pool in every home. My fear is directly due to the many drowning reports on the nightly news. The newscasters believe they are doing a service (and they are) but after fifty years of hearing the scary statistics, the only service they did for me was don’t get in the water, no matter how bloody hot you feel, at this moment. I can swim. Yes. The local nightly news taught me I had to learn. So I did. But as the years passed I became a pool lounger at an expert level. Dip a toe. Saunter to the chair. Order a drink, and repeat. The view brings me great peace as does the hotel service and bubbly. Oddly, I love to sail and passed my initial certification, but I don’t plan on captaining a boat. I am a lounger with an occasional standing moment at the helm and a bit of the bubbly. The boating love came after convincing myself that I am not in the water and technically I am correct. Being in requires a bathing suit or the current choices of ether small squares of material or big dresses that my grandmother wore when I grew up, which I can’t accept and thus going in the water or even pool lounging has been a big NO for years. Menopause has changed my overall look without my changing my diet or exercise. I could exist on air and I would still have rolls upon rolls in areas that were once flat.  So a bathing suit, has not been on my body, for a very long time. Through the years of heat, mental fog aka the beginning of this stage that never ends, I coped. I hid. I survived. Just a phase. We traveled in the winter to non-beachy areas. Accidental but freeing. London in November. Gorgeous rain and cold. Thankfully this meant turtlenecks, sensible pants, boots, large coats, and scarves. Turkey, obviously covered. In Paris, I was so busy looking Parisian and seeing everything that I could, no suit was necessary. I could hide my changes and frankly just accepted my new life. The last time I wore a suit in public, was twenty years ago in Spain, and twenty pounds ago. The hormonal overdrive phase of life has hit. I will be sixty in six weeks. Which should explain everything without getting technical. My acceptance of a new life stage has now turned to frustration and a daily dose of exasperation in the dressing moments. My body screams practical pull-ons and tunics and my head says hell no. Not yet or ever. Truth be told I have a few outfits that fit this category. They make me happy, in a comfortable way, but they always remind me of my grandmothers polyester granimals that fit her every physical need and frankly she always looked great, but I am not ready. The sixty year old woman does not really fit anywhere in the mainstream fashion industry. But we are having our moments in chain boutique shopping experiences, and while some great stuff can be found, we all come out looking the same which alerts others to the questioning of our desire for the AARP discount of the day. I digress. Back to the newest stressor. The need for a suit.

I am taking my grandnugget to a water park. Yes, not just a pool, but a park of people all in drippy stages of dress or undress with slides, arcades, and characters roaming the property. The nugget has been taking lessons and this is my treat. Now, this grandparent will do anything, but my hubs won’t. He won’t do the character related themed areas and this park fits that category. However, he has committed to Lego Land. It’s a lego thing for him. So that is a go. Disney. That’s on me, but I have a plan. We just don’t mention it until he is at least five years of age, maybe six. Back to the drippy park. After my commitment to what will be a great day. I went through my suits. I have two. Both seem small and lack the fabric I desire. All I can imagine is my very white body shuffling from one area to the next while toting all our necessities. In the pool bag, gone long ago. Luckily they are fancy neoprene now with stylish colors and options. This I can get into but the suit. Nope.

Thankfully, I love to research, and if beach bags have gone all neoprene like and fancy, perhaps the suit has more options than small triangles or massive printed dresses. Why loud prints? Is the dress not bold enough? A man must have created this horror with the mindset of, it will be easy to spot grandma in this checkered number. Within minutes of googling conservative suits, nicer than menopausal mama, I came upon a new trend, swimming leggings. Yup. They are made out of special material that dries quickly just like a regular suit with the special plus of covering, squeezing, and looking relatively sleek. Obviously, this is not a look for the lounging tanner. This legging idea (came through the swimming community) is practical for the swimming grandma desiring to swim with grandchildren and fighting the midst of unwanted body transformations. Rather than, running away from the day, or feeling less than in front of the skinny set or anyone under fourty. It will allow me to feel confident as I stroll the park without being worried about my size and the suit. That’s priceless.

Lands End seems to have the best choices, but also Target, Amazon, and even Walmart are in the game. Note: this is a non-sponsored post.

If I Could Not Fail?

This title reminds me of the bad morning prompts, that I give to my 7th graders, on journal writing mornings. AKA, I need five extra minutes to get my shit together mornings. Or leave me alone mornings. Or really, in the first ten minutes I have solved twenty-seven problems and listened to twelve stories and five bad jokes. Really bad. Those mornings are how the deep prompt times come alive. I can pull this stuff out of my arse and into their lives within seconds. Silence, due to their momentary confusion, until a voice asks, “Can we not fail in an alternate dimension?” Of course, I allow their parallel craziness which brings a sigh and ideas galore. Too many for fifteen minutes but I get my own moment and many universal success stories based on combinations of video games, cartoons, bad Netflix, and You Tube to read, come writing journal grading. My mind swims in stories that make sense if your name is Mack and you just fell through a cosmic hole to Earth, only to find your long-lost brother, who of course is your twin, named yes, Truck. I will stop. It gets worse but to go with the prompt Mack was successful. Phew.

But what if you could not fail. Where would you head and what fears would you finally conquere? Interesting concept. I find fear holds me back as an adult. Kids will barrel through about anything ie Mack and Truck, but as adults, we second guess most everything. Or is that just me. Am I alone in this world of breaking my own personal glass bubble? Perhaps, it’s not exactly cocktail party conversation so my data is limited.

Within social media we watch accomplishments that I can only dream about and tend to wonder why I can’t make that my reality. Now don’t fear, Jordan, Brady, and the other GOATS you can rest easy, no athletic desire to break their bests. But there are other areas where my talent goes untapped due to fear of failure. My “what ifs” are greater than my efforts at new opportunities. This was not always the case. I fell into this a few years ago after a big failure which was also right about the time of menopause, or at least the beginning of it, and if you have not hit that stage, just wait. It never leaves. It just gets worse. I can’t blame my fear of failure on this stage of life. So, I won’t. It already takes the blame for so many other physical issues, why give it fear of failure. Too much. I own this and am very tired of my own excuses. So, I am breaking free and feeling fear in every tiny cell as I take chances in my blog writing as I settle on a final blog direction, my daily 9-5, and that book. It Feels good. While no grand accomplishments have whisked into my Facebook to humble brag to the world, and with my blog still covering three different areas of my life and obviously still under-construction, as I explore the initial stages of niche finding. I have taken small steps and a possible niche discovery, with a healthy fear but finally feeling awesome about my future direction. I know that failure or detours (nicer ring to it) are part of a process and that we should not fear but do our desires and see where they roll. Why not? We should embrace the day and opportunity in the direction we desire. I have taught my students that “detours” are ok and will create their personal growth. After another speech on Wednesday, to a group of 7th graders, I feel finally free of my funk and fear. I am ready to find my voice in all areas of my writing and life, menopause be damned.