BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Tag Archives: mother


by 19 Comments

Shopping Revisited – Trauma or Triumph

plus-size-fashionLast summer I had a horrible shopping experience with my mother. We were clothing shopping for me, and it was the most demoralizing, degrading, unpleasant experience you could imagine within the confines of an upscale shopping mall. Seriously, it sucked. I felt lower than a rat that day. Lower than a flea on a rat. I swore that would be the last time I went clothing shopping with my mom. I was done.

It was nothing intentional, I’m sure. It’s just that when my mom was my age she weighed approximately 110 pounds. She currently laments the fact that she has an extra 5 pounds that she just can’t get rid of. She is a tiny person. I am not. I am a very large person. I am fat and have been fat for a long time. I was bigger and heavier than my mother by the time I was nine years old. I am adopted. I am different.

Fast forward to last Thursday. Mom called and asked if I wanted to do something “fun” on Saturday. This is a trick question. I always want to do something fun, but mom’s idea of fun and mine are often quite different. What kind of fun? We went back and forth and settled on a movie of her choice as the “fun” activity (I think it has subtitles). Great. The other option was shopping for a special occasion dress for me. Nope, I wasn’t going there.

I love my mother. I really do. We are just really different from one another. Our likes and dislikes, our outlooks on life, and our personalities are at odds with one another. Still, she is my mother, and I want to spend time with her. I was ready to willing to sit through some weird artsy movie (that honestly I might have loved under different circumstances) when it occurred to me that I would have to turn off my phone for two hours in the middle of a Saturday.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but since I’m trying to sell my house realtors call me as a courtesy before coming to show it. What if someone called and I didn’t answer? Would they skip my property and move on to another without a second thought? I wasn’t willing to take that risk.

I called mom with my dilemma and she immediately brought up her first plan, dress shopping. Oh goody.

My sweetheart gave me a stern talking to about how she is who she is, and she doesn’t mean all the mean things she says and does, and she’s old and set in her ways, so suck it up and deal. Something like that. It was probably more tactful than that, but that’s what I heard.

I decided to put on a good attitude and see where it took me. I picked her up and suggested that we try the Macy’s near my house, where I’ve had some success in the past. Nope, too far away. We would go to the Macy’s near her house. Sure, that would be great. She insisted that we park under Nieman Marcus, because she always walks through Nieman Marcus. As we entered the store, we immediately headed to the fragrance counter. I fought back the urge to sneeze as mother made a bee line for her favorite scent. That task taken care of, we headed to Macy’s.

We found the women’s department tucked away in an obscure corner (as usual) and quickly walked though the racks. There was not one item in that store that I wanted to try on. There was not one item that my mom wanted me to try on. We were in complete agreement. Amazing.

We left and mom announced that soon she would be ready for a coffee and a chocolate covered biscotti. She thought we should go to Dillard’s (next to Nieman Marcus) then get the coffee at the opposite end of the mall. My sense of logic prevented me from getting on board with that timeline. We would do this strategically, first the snack, then back to Dillard’s. She agreed and we headed to the coffee place. On the way we passed Godiva, and mom pulled me in for a sample. I did not argue. After that we turned the corner and headed down a very long, very busy mall corridor. At last we reached the end and the coffee place. We got our pick me up and spent some time people watching. It was fun. Really.

As we finished, mom suggested we go into Nordstrom’s, since we were right there. I have never purchased anything from Nordstrom’s. Ever. But true to my good, agreeable attitude, I said sure. I didn’t even know if they had a plus sized department. They do. It’s really nice. And it isn’t crazy expensive. We chose several items and made ourselves comfortable in the huge, beautiful fitting room. We enjoyed complimentary water bottles and good conversation, and mom didn’t make that “I just stepped in something” face at me even once. We found the dress, and it was a size smaller than I expected to buy. We also found two blouses off the clearance rack that mom insisted on buying. I was tickled.

The only thing they didn’t have was a suitable sweater or jacket to wear with the dress in the synagogue (it’s for my niece’s Bat Mitzvah), so off to Dillard’s we went. Jackpot! They had so many beautiful dresses and separates, and even two options for my jacket/sweater. Oh, and lots of their stock was on sale! I could have bought five dresses, which, if you are a woman my size, is unheard of. I was blown away. I was thrilled. I was dumbstruck. The whole experience turned out to be a lot of fun, and I came home with several very nice new clothing items.

I guess the lesson here is never give up on your family, even when you think you’ve reached your breaking point. Through conversation, a pleasant attitude, and the addition of well timed chocolate and coffee, we had a wonderful day.


by 13 Comments

My Poor Aching Feet

k5286114The other night my dear mother took me out for a night out in honor of my father’s birthday. He passed away more than a decade ago, but we still celebrate his birthday. We ate a delicious dinner, then enjoyed the opera at Symphony Hall. It was a fine, elegant evening.

Here’s the thing, though, my feet are killing me as a result. We parked in a garage near the opera hall and walked two blocks to the restaurant. Two blocks. Not even long blocks. Short blocks. Tiny blocks. Hardly even blocks at all. It was fine. Not a problem. I mean, I didn’t walk quite as quickly as mom, but her heels weren’t quite as high as mine. At least I don’t think they were.

They aren’t really that high, those heels. I would call them a “moderate” heel. They’re a cute pair of peep-toe sling-backs. I’ve worn them on many occasions, and they dress up an outfit beautifully. I hadn’t worn them recently, though. Apparently the last time I wore them I was younger and lighter. Well, younger for sure, I’m not sure about lighter.

I began to realize that they might not have been the best choice as we descended the metal stairs from the fourth level of the parking garage. As I clanged my way down my toes began to feel a little pinched. No big deal, I thought, I can handle this. I was happy to arrive at the restaurant and take my seat. I didn’t give my tootsies another thought until we were on our way back to Symphony Hall. Holy cow, my mom can move for a woman her age. I did my best to keep up. How embarrassing.

We got there early so we milled around the lobby before the doors were opened for seating. Finally we headed inside the theater proper. Our seats were on the aisle, so we kept popping up to allow people to go by. By the time the lights went down I was ready to remove my shoes. I didn’t though, because I knew putting them back on would be worse. The good news is the performance was magnificent, and had my full attention.

Intermission, on the other hand, was miserable.  We hustled off to the ladies room along with every other woman in that theater, and stood in line. Fortunately it moved quickly, because by this point my feet just plain hurt. Normally my mother likes to wander the lobby. She often bumps into an acquaintance or two. These little exchanges make me somewhat uncomfortable under the best of circumstances, but add in achy feet, and I took a pass. I think mom was a bit disappointed, but she joined me back at our seats.

The second act was just as wonderful as the first, and the standing ovation was well deserved, if not comfortable. Then came the walk back to the parking garage and the climb up the metal stairs to the fourth level. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

I think I may have to swear off heels for a while, until there is less of me to support on the balls of my feet. My honey doesn’t exactly tower over me, so I usually choose flats anyway these days. Maybe I’ll send those heels packing. They have served their purpose, and they no longer meet my needs. Meanwhile, my poor feet are still aching. Tomorrow I think I’ll wear tennis shoes.


by 8 Comments

Ten Things You Didn’t Know About My Mother

In keeping with the ten things theme, here are a few interesting (to me anyway) bits of information about my mother.

1. Her first job was at Sears folding underwear. To this day she doesn’t shop at Sears. I think she holds a grudge.

2. Her parents, hardworking immigrants, gave her a car at age sixteen.

il_570xN.454621398_fkrz3. My mother took care of my father’s medical practice’s business side from home. She also filled in at the office when needed. She even had a cute white uniform for the job.

4. My mother used to be a sun worshipper. Did I mention that my dad was a dermatologist?

5. My mother used to be late for everything. I was always the last kid to be picked up from things. Now she’s habitually early. Weird.

6. My mother enjoys taking her 5 grandchildren out to lunch. I think it’s because she steals their french fries.

7. My mother’s favorite mug features a photo of my son and my niece when they were quite small. She drinks hot water from it. I’m not kidding.

8. My mother LOVES Zumba.

9. My mother has always had the most beautiful gardens, beginning when she was a young bride with a tiny yard.

10. My mother refused to give up on my father in the last years of his life, when he was terribly sick. She hired around the clock help, put a hospital bed in the family room, and wouldn’t hear a word about placing him in a nursing home. “He took care of me my whole life, now I’m taking care of him,” she would tell people.  I never realized how strong she was until then.