Long Lost Friend

When I think back to what almost feels like a lifetime ago, I can remember being a lady. I recall taking the time out to give myself manicures and pedicures put some kohl around my eyes, and actually iron my clothes before I put them on. I can’t tell you what happened to that lady, because we lost touch a long time ago. When I had my first son, she stuck around for a while. She was determined that a woman could be a mom and a diva all at the same time. And she was right. I mastered the art of carrying an infant car seat in one hand and a Kenneth Cole diaper bag in the other, all while balancing on a pair of high heeled boots. When I gave birth to the twins a few years later, the lady’s visits became fewer and further between. And then without giving me so much as a two weeks notice, she quit. It was as though I forgot how to function. I began using my hijab as an excuse not to comb, or even condition my hair the way I used to. My fingernails were jagged and eyes were bare.  I stopped caring about style when selecting clothes and just settled for what fit. I became what that lady swore she would never allow me to become: a frumpy mom, who has been without a pedicure for so long that I could probably use my toenails as weapons. For me, getting dolled up means using lotion, and ironing my clothes before I put them on. I don’t think I was completely aware of what happened to me. White sweat socks were never fashionable with a dress, but somehow motherhood made it acceptable.

This morning, I walked up to the double doors to go into my office when I really took a good look at my reflection in it. Wouldn’t you know, that lady came back and tapped me on the shoulder? She told me to take a good look at how I let all her hard work come undone. I studied my dull complexion and my neglected body. For a second, I did not recognize the person looking back at me. How did I get sucked into the world of mom-jeans and ill-fitting shoes? And why have I replaced my nice purses with a recyclable grocery bag? I knew at that very moment that the lady was back to stay for a while. It’s as though a good friend returned after a long journey. Boy, am I glad to see her.

Chew on That

Trying to eat clean, healthy food has made me realize something I think I have known all along: I don’t like breakfast. It’s not that I dislike eating in the morning. Nothing gets me going like a nice savory meal shortly after I get out of bed. But the thought of cereal is almost repulsive to me. And pancakes? Fughettaboutit. A hot bowl of oatmeal has always left me yearning for something else. I could never figure out what was missing, but then it dawned on me. My mouth was missing the wonderful flavors of my beloved garlic, dash of sea salt, olive oil, fresh basil, and onion. As a person who is attempting to improve my health, I have to be mindful of the things I put into my mouth. Long gone are the days where a slice or two (or three) of pizza was the way I started my day. I am forced to eat with purpose now. My body requires a certain number of nutrients to function properly and I have to find a way to fit that all into my calorie budget. But does that mean a lifetime of cold cereal and milk? Or even eggs and toast? I had an epiphany this morning while choking down oatmeal with peanut butter for the 5000^th day in a row. It’s okay if the food you eat is actually enjoyable. Yes, the ultimate purpose of food is to fuel our bodies, but isn’t it possible for it to taste good at the same time? Is there really anything wrong with a bison burger on a whole wheat bun for breakfast? Why does all that iron-laden goodness have to be reserved for the later part of the day? I think breakfast has been getting the short end of the stick for far too long now. From this day forward, I am swearing off oatmeal for breakfast. Life is too short to consume things that don’t tickle my taste buds. From this day forward, I pledge never to sit in front of a bowl of cold cereal when a good steak is really what I am craving. Tomorrow, I plan to roast some asparagus in the morning and have it alongside a piece of grilled chicken. And the day after, I might even have a baked sweet potato. I vow to eat only what I enjoy, and to thoroughly enjoy what I eat. So, there.