We all have our personal challenges in life.  They are as unique as each of us is.  One of mine is overcoming envy, jealousy, and the bitter hatred of all the fires in hell that accompanies them.  I have written before (see “Bitches I Hate”) about my tongue-in-cheek jealousy of others, including popular mommy blogger Kelle Hampton, she of  She who has two children, but fit into her pre-pregnancy skinny jeans weeks after giving birth while I was still tipping the scales at over 200 pounds six months later.  She who lives in Naples, Florida (golf course capital of the world) where the median income is well over $100,000 and they own their home where Kelle can follow the fairy dust trail from her lanai to the woods behind her little Eden to bake cookies from scratch while unicorns frolic with leprechauns.  See?  Bitter, bitterness.  Her husband probably even opens his mail.

Just yesterday, I found out that she has a book deal and that the title of her book will be “Bloom.”  LIKE MY PROJECT!  Only the bitterness here is that, while I have the project, she has the book deal.  She didn’t even NEED to bloom!  Go to her website and look at her pictures!  She’s been a flower all along. As Joan Rivers would say on “E!’s Fashion Police,” Bitch stole my look!

And while you’re there, read the hundreds of comments that come after every post.  People LIKE this kind of writing.  Nay, LOVE IT, as they emphatically declare.  This is what inspires people: well-to-do people who look great in pictures (at least after photo editing) “blooming” in the face of adversity.  Or at least, inconvenience. 

I’ve felt stalled out on my “project.”  Yes, I use lotion.  I shave my legs.  I try to put mascara and lipstick on most of the time.  The baby weight is coming off little by little.  But I don’t think I’m ever going to be one of those fabulous ladies I’ve always envied.  I think I’m too granola.  I don’t wear make-up. I love my old, scratched up motorcycle boots. I like patchouli.  I mean REALLY like it.

Maybe I’ve made this “bloom” idea too much about the outside.  Yes, I want to be pretty and look as young as I possibly can, but why does it have to be all about looks?  I’m writing more than ever before.  My writing is being READ by people.  I’m becoming a better wife and mother as I become more willing to change.  

The anger I feel is all at myself, but DAMN if she doesn’t make a convenient target for it.  Her blog couldn’t be easier to parody if she tried.  Or HE tried (I suspect she has some help writing it).

It’s hard for me to get past the skinny thing, too.  It was drilled into me as a child that skinny equals good.  A few weeks ago I had a stomach virus.  As a result, I lost 5 pounds and got over a plateau.  The former anorexic in me was all, “Whoo hoo, stomach virus!  Huzzah!”  Last week, I gained it all back and I felt super sorry for myself.  It came off and stayed off.  I’ve never been fat, but I’ve never been skinny.  I will never be skinny.  I may be leaner or thinner, but skinny is not in my genes.  Not even my bones are skinny.

Mine and Odie’s is not an easy food marriage.  I am a vegetarian, he is not.  I am a lousy cook.  He does not cook.  We don’t like to eat the same things.  I am, in fact, not really a “meal” person.  I lived alone for many years and got in the habit of nibbling on this or that without thinking about how this could feed the whole family.  I used to live behind a grocery store and simply walked over there when I was hungry and bought exactly what I wanted to eat, keeping almost nothing in my refrigerator.  And as I’ve said before, no matter what I cook, Odie goes grazing in the kitchen after eating and almost always eats a bowl of cereal.  So why not just let him have cereal for dinner?  Fewer dishes, same result.

I eat compulsively to bury feelings.  When I stop doing that, I lose weight.  It’s really quite simple.  It takes very little food to stop me from being hungry.  It takes great quantities to make me stop hating Kelle Hampton’s blog.  The problem is between my ears.

Now I need to stop blogging about her, lest this become an “I hate Kelle Hampton website.”  It’s all hyperbole anyway. I don’t “hate” anyone. Although I think I should put that phrase in this blog enough times that Google will pick it up, because I think she is annoying as can be with her “let’s all ride a unicorn to fairyland and throw confetti and glitter with the joy of how super awesome we all are!” And I absolutely cannot be the only one.

In “The Witches of Eastwick,” where my “bloom” quote comes from, Nicholson’s character didn’t just mean the women became physically beautiful.  He meant they flourished in their lives.  They became the THEM they were always meant to be. 

I bloom. Like flowers.  Like fruit.  I am ripe.  And I don’t mean that in a “new mommies never shower” kind of way.


About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius
This entry was posted in Essays/Commentary, Marriage, Pure side-splitting comedy, The Bloom Project and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to BLOOM

  1. Trish says:

    I’m not saying this to make you feel better. I just looked at that site, and her writing is shit. No joking. It’s saccharine-acid, greeting card dreck. And what’s up with the accompanying music? Am I in an elevator? Maybe her theme is nice and I’m not going to take her and her legion on, but seriously, you are a much, much better writer than she is. That is a fact.

  2. mrsk6 says:

    I bet if I read her, I’d hate Kelle Hampton too… but based on what you say, I’ll avoid the pit of self loathing that reading her would only drop me in.

  3. MrsOdie2 says:

    Thanks, Trish. Your review of her blog is way more entertaining than her blog. Although some accompanying pictures of your feet would be magic. There is magic in your feet!

  4. Patty says:

    Thank you! I can’t stomach this fake ass woman. It’s like she is living in the land of OZ. What a phoney.

  5. MrsOdie2 says:

    You know what? Ms. Hampton’s people may be all fairies and rainbows when they comment on HER blog, but they are pit vipers when they comment on mine!

  6. Laura says:

    Yes, I found your blog, like many others, through google’s “Kelle Hampton is annoying.” Ironically I was trying to navigate my way to her blog, but that phrase was so compelling I had to continue along until I found you. I think there’s room in my life for both of you, but I have to say, I am one of her more skeptical readers. On the other hand, the more I read of your blog the more I adore you; your posts really hit home on a variety of levels. I’m not good with the whole wordy-ness and explaining myself thing. Blog good. Much thank you. Funny and awesome. There. See? I can’t quite describe precisely why I love it, I just know that I do. (Besides I have WAYYYY more in common with you than her.)

    Anyhoo, all this to say, as a mom with an almost 18 year old who has DS I find Kelle’s blog a little cloying and obnoxious BUT I am going to pull out and put on my “been doing this for 18 years so I am very wise now” hat and offer this: She’s hurting and coping. She’s hurting in a way she never thought she would in her pretty pink world and it is harder for those in that world to handle the shock than some of the rest of us; I suspect. Ultimately it will be good for her and it will help her grow, but there is this crazy phase that some of us parents of DS kids go through where we try to cope through romanticizing the whole experience. Yes, I did it too…so I kind of get it and I can put up with her. None of us wants this diagnosis for our kids, I appreciate her honesty in the birth story and I appreciate yours. My feelings were something along the lines of : “Crap. I can’t do this.” But then you suck it up and you do it. Ultimately sanity returns. Sometimes there is sunshine and unicorns, other times there is vomit and yelling at someone to clean his room. Balance is restored. I don’t think she’s there yet so I am still giving her a bit of leeway.

    Where was I going with this? Oh who knows by this point. I’m a rambler. Anyway, I like your blog. I appreciate your honesty. DS isn’t the end of the world for any of us, and not all of us DS parents have rainbows and fairy dust shooting out of our asses. Some of us even appreciate a bit of caustic, sarcastic, humor. Isn’t it Dorothy Parker who said: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me.” 😉

    Apologizing for my horrible grammar, spelling, and punctuation now.

    p.s. If your kid had been born with DS you would’ve totally rocked it. I think your personality would’ve been well suited to the task.

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