Saturday, July 14, 2018

I Built Her Myself

Some days it feels like a lot of work to pull myself together. Friday was one of those days. After Oz picked up the kids for an overnight visit at his place, I took a look at myself. I had recently gotten back from a 17 hour road trip alone with 3 children.  And what was left of me was a shell of myself. And SHE was just sitting there. Not moving. Like a lump on the couch.

I reminded her that her friends were going out to see a band that she likes and that there would be dancing and that she should get herself together and start getting ready.

But, she had a lot of excuses.  She felt like she was too tired, too old and too drained of life force energy from everything she endured over the last few years. She felt sadness because she thought about the reality that her dad died and is still dead 4 years later. She thinks MS makes her tired. She gained 4 pounds but feels like it's 100. Her ex-husband is getting remarried in 3 weeks. And she feels like she is going to die alone.

She wanted to wallow in despair and pay bills and sweep the crud off the kitchen floor. She wanted to stay home on her couch and eat the fudge brownie ice cream the kids hadn't found yet while she finished binging another season of Shadow Hunters and take off her bra and put on her romper.

That was IT! Enough! I had to intervene! I could not let her her put that damn onesie on and sit around feeding her friggin' face junk food while her friends were dancing somewhere. NO!

So I pulled her off of the couch and forced her into the bathroom.  I blasted her favorite songs from her phone and threw her into the shower and strongly encouraged her to shave every inch of her Italian fur off.  She tried to get away with a quick once over with the razor, but nope! All of it!  How does it grow so freakin' fast?

I almost felt bad for her and let her put the onesie on and go back to the couch after all the effort the shaving took.  Then I remembered the dancing and my Old Self that wasn't a haggard shell and I pushed forward with my mission.

Next I worked on her hair. She protested of course and wanted to just leave it wet and put it in a messy bun like she had been doing all summer so far. But- nope! Not having it.

She complained it was dried out from the chlorine and salt water from vacation, it was in need of coloring. It was out of control.  And she was right.

 So, I took out all of my tools and turned them to the highest heat settings they had. I used the super strength oil and smoothing creme and I used the salon quality hair dryer I had splurged on for situations such as this. I sectioned the ratty hair into sections. And slowly I dried it. One section at a time.

She tried to convince me to not let her out of the house until her hair color appointment later this week. But, nope! I persisted.

Next, I slathered more oil on the hair. Then I used the flat iron. Again sectioning it. She wanted me to just run it over chunks of hair to quickly flatten it a bit.
Ummm....nope.

Section by small freaking section I smoothed and flat ironed that straw back into silk.

Not too bad!

While the curling iron heated up we worked on her face.

Oh Self, what the hell happened here??

I tried not to be angry, but seriously she hadn't used her face soap and exfoliator in so long that she couldn't even find it. WTF?!

Luckily, I dug it out from the dark hole in the closet and gave her face a good scrubbing.
The old, dead, dried out skin went away. But, the underneath layer was sunburned and reddish and had some blemishes.

 I knew she would use these as excuses to put that darn onesie on and watch tv.

SO- I convinced her it was part of looking like summer!

Before she could register that this isn't a thing- I started dabbing foundation on to blend her face a bit.  I had to admit there was no hiding the pimple on her forehead or the sunburned nose.

I decided instead to use a cream blush to highlight her cheeks and lips and leave the blemishes and "naturalness."

Hmmm....ok she was starting to perk up.

Next were the eyes.  I smudged some eyeshadow on with my finger because she couldn't find a brush and was too lazy to dig out q-tips.  SO I made due.

Not bad!
Now for the eyeliner....inside edge of the bottom lid first.

OMG! She started to look alive.  So I kept going.

Outer edge of top lids.
And one slight wing at each edge.

Ohhhhhh my!

And finally my most favorite of all make-up....Mascara!
I had saved the best for last. I knew that lash by lash I could uncover my True Self.
I still had belief she was in there.

And as I swept that black wonder across those lashes, I saw her. Her eyes sparkled. She was awake now.

Before she lost the sparkle I added a touch of brown brow pencil and BAM!!!! She was alive in there!

It was HER- the woman that likes to listen to music and go out with friends and dance!

Oh, but the outfit, her eyes dulled at the thought.

I reminded her about the black dress hanging on the hook in her room.
She protested that it wasn't actually a dress, but a beach cover up.

I had already anticipated this reaction, so I was ready with a necklace and earrings
and WAAAAA-LAAAAA
it's a dress!

She wasn't too sure, but she didn't have time to think as I shoved her fat little feet into her peacock print shoes that she loves.

That distracted her enough to forget she was wearing a beach cover-up as a dress because it was the only thing clean that actually fit her.

Finally dressed ...  I used a giant-barreled curling iron to add some OOOMPH to her hair.
Just a few well placed curls because at this point I'm lucky she even has any patience left at all.

One very important last step- the root spray.  I shook that can up and sprayed that dark brown paint over as much of her gray hairs as I could.  Took practically the whole can but I covered most of it!


And then...she looks in the mirror and seems to approve. Or at least not head back to the couch.

So she goes to the bar and meets up with her friends and they talk and laugh and she is awake and happy and then the band plays and she loves every song and can't sit in her seat because she needs to stand up and dance!

And she knows every word to Jesse's Girl and Livin' on A Prayer so she sings it with her friends and laughs and laughs.

And I know she will be ok...because I built her myself.



2 comments:

  1. yay for going out! it's hard and sometimes you do need a rest/wallow day...but come on, dancing at the Shamrock! Love you Sis!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks love you too!! We need to plan a dancing night soon!

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