Friday, June 7, 2013

here's 39 up close and personal.


These hands have bathed three babies, pushed countless carts and strollers, buckled many a car seat, wiped a zillion tears and blew plenty of runny noses.  These hands have chopped, diced, cooked, and washed too many dishes, scrubbed toilets, sinks, and dusted furniture.  These hands have pulled weeds, trimmed hedges, painted walls, and hammered nails.  These hands have clapped to a beat, walked like an Egyptian, written essays, and typed infinitely on a keyboard.  

These hands move animatedly when I talk and they slip into my pockets when I pose for a picture.  They are sun-spotted and freckled and usually dry because I never remember to use lotion.  These fingernails are never painted and if they happen to be it's because a child offered and I'm a fun mom. 

These feet have karate kicked, punted soccer balls, and jumped over hurdles.  These toes have been pointedly stuffed into ballet shoes and felt the pain of standing on pointe.  These feet have ran bare on rocks, grass, and pavement.  They have waded through creeks, rivers and lakes.  These feet have walked the streets of China, Japan, London, Australia, Mexico, Canada, The Dominican Republic, and the good ole U.S. of A.  These feet have ran alongside each child as they learned to ride a bike, danced in the living room, and tiptoed around sleeping children.  

These feet are hard-working feet; worn rough in both running shoes and heels.  

This hair has been brunette, blonde, red, and an unfortunate brassy orange.  This hair has been a mullet and has been permed into Annie's look-a-like.  This hair remembers the smell of apple pectin from the times when my aunt permed my hair in her home.  This hair has been short enough that I was mistaken for a boy.  This hair often tries to have bangs, but it never works out well.  This hair loves the touch of small hands and begs to be brushed and braided and pulled too tightly into a ponytail.

This hair right now is long and blonde and I like it.  It's a long, frizzy mess and requires much work to make it presentable, but it's my hot mess and I'll gladly take it.

These green eyes.  They once held a super power I think.  These eyes have explored, gazed, and witnessed so much beautify in life.  These eyes have cried happily and sobbed miserably.  These eyes tear up at our National Anthem, every time.  These eyes have seen the desert, the ocean, the mountains, and the open fields.  These eyes have watched three children grow so very fast over the years.  They roll with sarcasm, they squint with laughter, and they cross for fun.  These eyes love black eyeliner and mascara.

These eyes are my statement piece; we all have one.   

This nose is a knob.  I can latch onto it with two hooked fingers and hold on tight.  This nose could save a life.  If I stare at it for too long, this nose looks big but I know it's not. 

These lips are thin and love to be glossed.  These lips have felt soft kisses.  They get bit when I'm nervous.  They twist into a side-smooch when I'm thinking.  Zillions of words have passed through these lips, most of them nice but some of them sting.  When I'm in my element, these lips can't help but curl up into a smile.  


Tomorrow I turn 39.  I've enjoyed being in my skin & bones for as long as I can remember.  This body has been good to me even when I may not have deserved it; too many hours in the sun, almost no vegetables whatsoever, and Diet Coke always.  It's a healthy body {although it has progressively gotten harder to keep it healthy as the years pass by} and I have all of my normal functions for which I am absolutely grateful.  At this time in my life, my brain still resorts to my body as that of a twenty-something.  My brain has the confidence of a mountain lion and according to it, I should be able to dance in a ballet, play professional soccer, and become a gymnast.  In reality though, even gardening wreaks havoc on this body.  I now know why it is important to bend with the knees.  If I don't, I won't get back up.  That being said, my body is strong.  And determined.  I can power through anything even when it hurts.  Pain spurs me on because my body wants so badly to do what my brain tells me it can.

I want to remember these small, honest details as I experience the last year in my 30's; no photoshop, just me, up close.  My body is getting older and changing, but that can be beautiful too.  The wrinkles, the pores, the sunspots; that's just life lived.  I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy Birthday to me!

11 comments:

  1. wow, what a powerful post! Happy Birthday! I hope you have a wonderful day and get pampered. I love your heart and passion for your family, you are witty and fun, I can tell this all only through your blog, but I would bet it's pretty accurate. Is your hubby in charge of the cake again??

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    1. YES, to everything Kate said. Happy Birthday!!!

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    2. Oh thank you so much! :)

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    3. Thank you, Kate! And yes, my husband is in charge of the cake! And he just brought home a dozen doughnuts because it's National Doughnut Day. I'm going to go sugar crazy. :)

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  2. Very beautifully said, I love this post, so honest, straight from the heart, no photoshop, just precious. Happy Birthday Misty, all the best wishes to you, I hope you have a wonderful one, enjoy it fully, in the company of your very precious and beautiful family :)

    XOXO

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    1. Thanks, friend! I am feeling very blessed!

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  3. This is a great post! Just stumbled across your blog and after this I feel like you're an old friend! Happy Birthday
    xo Jessica
    www.NewlyLoved.com

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    1. I'm so happy you stopped by! Thanks so much for your sweet comment. :)

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  4. You go girl! Great post. Happy Birthday!

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  5. Oh my Misty! This is absolutely wonderful. We, here in Spokane, miss the woman in those pictures and her wonderful family. Thanks for sharing :)

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  6. You have the best attitude! Health is certainly something to be grateful for and I hope you have an amazing year ahead of you! Happy birthday!

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