Um Yeah, Thanks Brooke

So I'll admit, I like to watch reality television. Survivor, America's Next Top Model, So You Think You Can Dance - I watch 'em all. This week, the Hubby and I sat down to watch the latest season of Dancing With The Stars. It's innocuous enough. Nobody gets hurt and it's fun to watch the beautiful people trying to do something that they wouldn't normally do on live television. But I have to say the needle went screeching off the record for me when I saw Brooke Burke in her barely there costume looking like she's never eaten a trans fat in her whole life.

The woman has four (count 'em, 4) children, the most recent of which was delivered only 6 months ago!


Now, I don't normally like to compare myself to the people on T.V. (unless of course they are the extremely obese people on The Biggest Loser), but in light of the fact that Brooke has recently delivered a baby and so have I - I admit the temptation was too great to resist. I definitely do not look like that!

So I told myself all of the things that other women in my position would tell themselves - that Brooke Burke makes a living out of looking like that - her livelihood depends on it. That she likely can afford to pay someone to make her meals for her and does not eat PB&J or frozen chicken nuggets for lunch like her kids do because she doesn't have to make lunches and keep her house in order like other moms do. That likely she has a personal trainer to make sure that she keeps that absolutely rock solid body at all times.

But it might not all be true. More likely, the woman looks like that because she doesn't sit on her couch eating cookies after her 4 kids go to bed. She probably hasn't ever knowingly consumed a trans fat, because she probably is on some raw food diet, and probably she doesn't collapse on her couch in grateful exhaustion when the last of her kids goes down for her nap - she probably does Pilates or yoga or something.

And good for her. Even if she does hire out the cooking duties, or has a live in nanny, or just enjoys good clean living - I don't begrudge her her hot body. But maybe she could just keep her four kids to herself. Other people don't need to know that it's possible to look like that six months after giving birth. I know I didn't!


But Brooke isn't just out there showing off. No, she's got a website dedicated to helping other moms out. Yeah, go ahead, check it out. But here's the thing. I'm not entirely convinced that the band of elasticized fabric that Brooke is flogging on her website is actually responsible for her taught tummy -- sorry Brooke. Would it stop me from trying it next time around? No, I'd try a lot of things to look like her.

Except walk past the concession stand at the movies without picking up a bag of popcorn and some Milk Duds. But, thanks anyway Brooke.

Better To Have Loved & Lost?

It's funny how sometimes things will happen in your life that otherwise seem unrelated, but when you think about them are kind of about the same thing.

I recently put an end to my dry spell of novel reading and found an amazing book called The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Perhaps it's just that it came to me at the right time, but I'm pretty sure this book is just un-frigging-believable.

Anyway, one of the ideas explored in this book is that of losing something/someone that you love. And in light of recent responses to my last blog, I think that it's an idea worth exploring a little more.

This book had me in tears. I found it so profoundly moving - the idea of waiting for your soul mate and the fear of losing them when they finally come - struck a chord in me that I'm sure must resonate with others also. My inability to control the world around me has left me in a cold sweat many, many times.

And so it got me to thinking: When we are single, many of us go to great lengths: removing hair in the bizarrest of places, engaging in the boringest/strangest/stupidest activities to lure to us "the one" we are meant to be with. If it takes too long for us to find that person, we begin to fret (see Trippy Gal's comment to previous blog).

I suppose that it's not without good reason that we engage in this worrying. I mean, nobody wants to spend eternity alone (or worse yet, spend eternity dating every weirdo out there). There is an innate need to connect with another human being and feel at peace knowing that we are loved unconditionally. We fear that the possibility exists that we will die never knowing this feeling.

The flip side of this fear, of course, is for those who have found "the one." For those people, the deepest fear is in losing their beloved - perhaps to some bizarre twist of fate beyond their control - a speeding car, a devastating illness - or perhaps to some grave error in judgement - the realization that you and your loved one aren't meant to be, a misspent evening, or what-have-you. And this fear is well-founded as well. For example, my own marriage exists at the expense of someone else's. In this case, one is left not only bereft of their loved one, but also with a feeling of inadequacy, the pain of rejection.

The fears get worse the more attachments you make; it runs in every direction; from the very centre of you out to your parents, whom you see aging (however gracefully), knowing that your time with them is finite; to your partner, whom you love with all your heart and could not bear to be without; and of course, to your children, who seem to hold within them the ability to stop your heart altogether. How on earth can one contend with all the myriad possibilities for loss?

When you look at it in this light (as The Time Traveller's Wife made me do) it seems as though the only way to avoid these pains are to avoid making attachments at all. If you are a Buddhist, then you're already on the right path for this. For the rest of us, however, the path is not so clearly marked. Like I said, the innate need for human connection is a strong one.

So what is the answer?

I guess it's probably different for everyone. For me though, there's no question - it's worth the risk. To live in fear of losing something you love is a far better misery than the fear which causes one not to try - to avoid those relationships which may cause rejection, loss and heartache.

And besides, the possibilities for joy are too numerous to avoid. I'm sure the Dalai Lama himself would have to admit that there is a great difficulty in not attaching oneself to the many wonderful things that life has to offer. So if you're still waiting for "the one" to come along, why not enjoy what there is in the mean time?

40 A Figure To Look Forward To

This weekend, the Hubby and I attended a farewell party for a friend and colleague who, after many years in the reserves, has decided to volunteer for service in Afghanistan. While I have mixed feelings about that, I respect this man very much and wish him good luck and a safe return.

At this party there were many interesting people. The Hubby and I were delighted to be at a (grown-up) party where there were people that we did not know - bizarre how that has ceased to be a regular part of our experiences in recent years. Among the attendees were a group of neighbourhood women, adorably named The Brooklawn Babes. These are a group of middle-aged women (mostly in their late 40's, early 50's) who know each other from their neighbourhood and who are friends. These women have collectively and individually experienced the myriad of of joys and adversities that people go through - death, divorce, and remarriage. Physical illness, mental illness, alcoholism. Child birth and child rearing (including teenagers), starting new careers and disciplines of study, and probably any others you can think of. The remarkable thing about these women though, is not their experiences - as I've said they are fairly common to everyday people, but the sheer fabulousness of them as individuals and as a group. Frankly, they're the sexiest middle-aged women I've met.

And I'm not just talking about how they look. Yes, they were decked out in their cutest cocktail dresses and looked great in them (yes, by the way, my standard for greatness at 50 is different from my standard for greatness at 20 or 30), but what was so fierce about them was their attitudes. The Confidence! My God! One could not help but notice how fabulous these women were and they knew it! There was no shame there. Just what seemed like total confidence.

And why not? In their 20's women seem to have a recklessness about them that sometimes plays as confidence, but I think, in many cases it is simply a mask which is meant to hide a sense of uncertainty and self-loathing. The confusion about who and what we are to ourselves and others can be overwhelming. The closer we get to our 30's the better we are able to understand ourselves and others, but now the self-loathing presents as a fear of aging. We are just finally starting to get our shit together, and now we're going to start sagging and bagging. How can anyone possible appreciate or respect us when we're not gorgeous?!

In our 30's we realize the folly of this, but still can't help ourselves. We are heavily targeted by the media and despite loving families, friends and/or partners we are critical of our outsides, even as our insides are slowing moving toward the fabulousness that will be our middle age. While it's true that (for many of us) our bodies take on a utilitarian nature during this decade that does not necessarily promote a sense of sexiness, our station in life as partners, leaders, and supporters does. But this is just the beginning.

Soon, we will be 40. We will be established more soundly in our jobs, lives and communities like we have not been before. We will have a sense of who we are and what we want for ourselves and our families that we have not had before. And yes, we will have sagging bits that we have not had before. But it won't matter. The truth is, I've yet to hear anybody complain about their 40's. Middle age for a woman (and I think that our 40's are the onset of this stage) is a coming of age. While men may be having their mid-life crises, women are finally starting appreciate the power within themselves. They are coming to accept that aging happens and while it's true that things aren't necessarily looking the way they did when they were 20, it matters less and less.

This November I will be turning 33. While it's true that I cried the night I turned 20, and was less than pleased when I realized at 26 that I was closer to 30 than 20, I can honestly say that there is no trepidation about turning 40. I've always suspected (and The Brooklawn Babes confirmed it for me this weekend) that aging (for men and women) is all in your head. If having another candle on your cake makes you want to through yourself off a bridge, then you need to think again.

Confidence is what makes you sexy. The respect and admiration of your peers and loved ones is what makes you hot. And if that's not enough, then chances are, by the time you turn 40, you'll be able to afford to lift, tuck or suck out whatever it is that's bugging you!