The Arm Fat of Normalcy
Much has been brought to my attention in the weeks since my last post. Mainly pertaining to the depressive tone my posts continue to take, even months into starting this blog. After some pause, an impromptu 'therapy' session with a close family member, and some much needed introspection I believe I see my reality a bit clearer.
Yes grieving sucks! The process is draining and ongoing, but over time life should regain some semblance of normality. For me it was being able to notice the little things that my kids like to do. Both my daughter and son like to play with my arm fat!
My daughter has an obsession with my breasts and upper arms. Some say it is because I breast fed her too long (23 months exactly), which I know to be bull because there is no such thing! But even when I'm sleep and she wakes before me, the first thing she goes for is my arm fat. She obsessively likes rubbing it like it's a lucky rabbit's foot or the Genie's lamp from Aladdin. The irony is for most of my teen years I had a hate/hate relationship with the same region she adores today.
My son does the same thing to me and my husband, he doesn't discriminate, just give him an arm, any arm and let him poke around while he drinks!
This obsessive quality they both have might even be hereditary. My aunt confessed to the same sin of my kids with her Mama, my Granny. She loved to play with her arm fat too. Apparently its soft and tender nature make for prime soothing of young, at least in my family. How rude!
Two years ago I wouldn't have been able to notice such behavior. Adjusting to so many changes in such a short period of time takes its toll. Slowly but surely normalcy is a welcomed adjustment. I'm proud to say I acknowledge it and embrace it, mainly because I know Ma would have it no other way.
Yes grieving sucks! The process is draining and ongoing, but over time life should regain some semblance of normality. For me it was being able to notice the little things that my kids like to do. Both my daughter and son like to play with my arm fat!
My daughter has an obsession with my breasts and upper arms. Some say it is because I breast fed her too long (23 months exactly), which I know to be bull because there is no such thing! But even when I'm sleep and she wakes before me, the first thing she goes for is my arm fat. She obsessively likes rubbing it like it's a lucky rabbit's foot or the Genie's lamp from Aladdin. The irony is for most of my teen years I had a hate/hate relationship with the same region she adores today.
My son does the same thing to me and my husband, he doesn't discriminate, just give him an arm, any arm and let him poke around while he drinks!
This obsessive quality they both have might even be hereditary. My aunt confessed to the same sin of my kids with her Mama, my Granny. She loved to play with her arm fat too. Apparently its soft and tender nature make for prime soothing of young, at least in my family. How rude!
Two years ago I wouldn't have been able to notice such behavior. Adjusting to so many changes in such a short period of time takes its toll. Slowly but surely normalcy is a welcomed adjustment. I'm proud to say I acknowledge it and embrace it, mainly because I know Ma would have it no other way.
Mama But would have it no other way. I've been playing with my own arm fat with disdain and intrigue. Funny how our view of us is so different from those who genuinely love us. #freethearmsANDembracethefat all summer 17 (heck, all seasons)
ReplyDeleteI meant MaMa B. Autocorrect, or whatever, is adding to my words
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