I'm not a damn tiger. I'm a woman!

I am sure that you have all seen this photo before, especially if you have a facebook. For the past few months, I have been struggling with my weight. Well, not so much my weight, but the way that I feel about myself, to be honest. So, this picture really got me thinking.

First, let me set this up for you. I have always been a slim girl. What can I say, I come from good genes. My mother, to this day is a size 0 at fifty-years old! (She has had four children too!) As a kid, I was often picked on for being "skinny". Once, in high school I was harassed by a teacher, who verbally attacked me in the hallway - saying things like "You're so skinny you make me sick." I never weighed more than 97-98 pounds, even into my young adult years. It was not until I became pregnant with my first child, that I weighed more than 100 pounds. After the birth of both my children, I breast-fed, and was able to shed the pounds with no problem. Not fitting into a size 0, but a size 2-4.

Two years ago, I visited my family for Christmas - we were all living in three different states. Everyone kept commenting on how much weight I had gained. On several different occasions, they even asked if I was pregnant. [Side note: At that time, I weighed about 117-120] On top of that, I was super emotional, because I had not seen my family in over two years. And so they questioned even more. They questioned me so much, that it got into my head. So much that I even stopped at a local drug store to pick up pregnancy test. (Even though I knew that I was not pregnant.)

Fast-forward 2011 -2012 - My youngest son is now four years old. Since our move to San Antonio, TX I have stayed home with not only my two children, but my niece as well. Before this, I was a manager at a fast-casual restaurant, working 45 hours a week on average, 8-10 hours a shift, usually without a break! Of-course, I have gained weight. I now weigh 125 steady - even though I have done a little to try to bring it down. My family (mom and sisters) are all petite - and I - well, am not. Since being here, I have had a handful of comments about my weight. Including a joke between my mom and dad (who are now divorced) about me being "plump". At first, I did not think it was such a big deal. But in all actuality, it did hurt my feelings. I usually don't care too much about what people say, but it seems to sting just a bit more when it comes from family. Why is it that those that are supposed to love you, respect you, and honor you the most, can also hurt you the most? For those exact same reasons, I guess.

Recently, Christina Aguilera has been in the tabloids continuously for her wight. There are many criticizing her and bashing her. I don't usually keep up with the tabloids, but I read something online that said something like, "Christina is a 30 year old woman now and a mother, not the bublegum-teeny-bopper we once met so long ago". Oddly enough, this comment really made me see things in a different light.

I am a mother - not of one, but to two beautiful, happy and healthy rambunctious boys! I have carried them in my body, which is a miracle in itself, and delivered them with the blood, sweat and tears of both fear and joy that only another mother can understand. My body has been tried and tested - and my strength and my will even more. Yes, I am not the young, inexperienced, and vulnerable girl that I used to be. I am a 30 year old, bold, beautiful and confident woman that has grown into her skin. No, I may not look like the model on the cover of a magazine, who's image has been altered, and touched up to make you believe that she is "perfect". I am not perfect, I have battle-scars (stretchmarks) and am often self-conscious about them, but I am a mother - and I would not change that - ever! I am beautiful! And I don't need anyone to confirm that. I am not a tiger - who has earned her stripes. I chose to become a mother, of my own free will because I wanted to experience one of life's greatest joys - to love and to be loved unconditionally - like only another mother can understand. So no, I am not a damn tiger. I am a woman!

Just another day in a dysfunctional family. . .

It seems that there has been another full-out-yelling-match at our house. It's funny how these all start the same. . . it's almost as if you can feel them brewing too; They seem to blow in like a storm - and usually have absolutely NO POINT!

A few nights ago, our children were asleep in bed. Actually, they had been sleeping already for a few hours. My sister went to the gym, and took her 2 yr old with her. She has a habit of doing this - keeping the baby out late - even when she is tired. She has failed to establish any type of routine or stability in their lives - but that's not the point. The point is that the baby was already tired when she got home from work - and I told her this- but against my advice (no surprise) she took her out anyway.
Needless to say, when they got home, the baby was exhausted! She took her straight up stairs and attempted to put her to bed. Of-course, as any parent knows, you keep a baby out past their bedtime = meltdown! And what a mother of all meltdowns was it! She screamed for about 30-40 minutes, no exaggeration.

At this point my husband and I were watching tv downstairs - trying to relax - but we could hear everything that was going on above us. My dad was on the computer - and he was making a lot of noise - fumbling through drawers - and just making a lot of noise. This is right next to where our children sleep - so of-course, I was annoyed. At this point, I turned to my husband and said, "What the heck is he doing up there?". Then next thing I know, I hear him walk over to my sisters room - I could hear him talking to her, though it was muffled. Baby still screaming. And then the SLAMMING of a door. To which I got up and went upstairs. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard my sister say, "Why are you slamming my door?" , to which he mumbled something - and she responded, "What's your problem?", to which he responded, (yelling), "What's your problem!". And so it began. This all happend at the same time,as I was headed upstairs saying, "Who's slamming doors up here?". Ugh! Was I in for it. To which my dad replied (explosively)"I am. Do you have a problem with it."

No shit, Shirlock! Congratulations! You win a prize. Of-course I have a problem with it - MY CHILDREN ARE SLEEPING! (engaging "mama bear" status now) To which, my response was. "Yes, I do. My children are asleep up here. What's going on?" I was ignored. So I asked again. "What are you so upset about?" To which I was ordered to go downstairs and to "shut-up". Really??? I said "No. Don't talk to me that way." Which totally pissed him off. His response was that he could talk to me however he wanted. And I said, "No. You can't." Once again I was told to "just go downstairs" and to "mind my own business". I explained that it was my business - since we lived here too, and paid 1/2 rent, 1/2 bills and groceries. (plus my children were sleeping in the next room - HELLO! How is it not any of my business - but I didn't say that)Because I was too busy being YELLED at! At this point was husband came over and was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I could see he was getting upset.

There were a few more word exchanged - a bit more yelling - and then I just went downstairs - like I said it was pointless! The worst part is - I know he sees it as "my fault". We still don't know what he was so upset about? (We assume it is because of the baby's screaming) And No, there will be no apology or even talking about it. Everyone will just go on - as if nothing ever happened. This drives me absolutely CRAZY!