Driving Miss Cranky

This winter storm we’re having made me realize one of my deeply buried maternal superstitions. Somewhere in my subconscious, I have this philosophy that it’s my job to worry about things so they don’t happen.

Case in point: My son goes to college in Indiana – about 6 hours away. Yesterday, prior to the storm moving in, he was leaving school to return home for Christmas break. The combination of his driving home and the storm arriving sent me into a tizzy. I made at least six phone calls to him that sounded something like this: “What time are you leaving? You need to leave early. You need to beat the storm. The storm is going to be HUGE. Leave as early as possible. What do you mean you haven’t packed yet?! Do you have warm enough clothes for the trip home in case you get stuck? Call me as soon as you leave.” (So I could commence worrying even more.)

I’m certain there was much eye-rolling during these calls, but he was kind enough not to share this with me. Truth be told, I wanted to scare him a little because at his age, you tend to think you’re immortal and nothing will ever happen to you.

I’m old enough to know that things happen to people, which, of course, makes me worry even more. And I seem to believe that if I worry about things enough, then they won’t happen. Often, it works, which is probably why I keep doing it.

But here’s the thing: This worrying gig is kind of exhausting, especially because it never ends. Sigh.

Dear Oprah,

I read the news today, oh girl! You’ve come out of the pantry and admitted to hitting the big 2-0-0. I’m sure that must have been a tough thing to do. You’ve always prided yourself on your healthy lifestyle, thanks, in part, to a stable of personal trainers and chefs. Despite the number of ads I see on the internet, those Acai Berries aren’t working all that well.

Here’s what I want to say to you: Girlfriend, welcome to the club.

No, I haven’t hit the big 2-0-0, but I’m definitely not going public with my digits! And when I talk about the club, it’s definitely not the Fight Club or the Country Club. It’s that sorority of WBWs, a.k.a. Women Battling Weight. Honey, I’ve been a member of this club forever. Even way back in my grade school years, I’d wake up before my family just for the opportunity to munch on chocolate chips while I watched morning cartoons.

High school is when I started my first official diet. That was the first 15 pounds that I lost. I’m certain they returned during my freshman year of college. Since then I’ve been on multiple diets, all of them successful, unless you’re counting whether or not I kept the weight off.

Through the years, I’ve been buddies with Jenny Craig (twice) and Weight Watchers. Between those three diet sessions, I’ve lost over 100 pounds. I haven’t gained it all back, but I’m nowhere near my dream goal weight. The only thing I’ve got working in my favor is a newfound addiction to tennis.

Here’s the thing, Oprah: People don’t love you because you’re skinny. They love you because you speak your mind and because some of your favorite things are food. I’d go so far as to say that they love you because you’re not skinny. We’ve got plenty of skinny celebrities. We need more real women with double-digit dress sizes.

I realize that our country has an obesity problem and we need to move more and watch less. But since you’re a role model to so many women, I wish you’d change the goal. Stop with the “big reveal” of the bikini body and put the emphasis on health, activity and muscle. If the focus is always on how you look and not how you feel, then no progress has been made.

Look, it’s gotta be tough to have the eyes of America on you every day. When I break up with my latest diet plan, it doesn’t end up in the tabloids. But remember when Jamie Lee Curtis went “unretouched” in that magazine feature? Brilliant. That hot new British singer Adele? Love that she’s not a twig. Queen Latifah? The girl’s got curves and beauty with no apologies.

We need more honesty and less airbrushing. We’re living in a High Definition world. Let’s change the perception of what we want to see and what is beautiful. Let’s finally accept the fact that along with different colors, we come in different sizes and that’s not always bad. You are one of the few people in the world with the power to make that happen.

Sincerely,

Karen

I have a confession: For a moment, I considered not decorating the house for Christmas this year. What?! Shhhh…don’t tell my kids…and don’t worry, our halls are decked. But I have to tell you, I did give it serious consideration.

You may ask, what’s the problem? Well, as I’ve mentioned ad nauseum, my kids are older – 21 and 16, to be exact. When they were young, I decorated to the hilt. Every nook and cranny was filled with holiday cheer. And, of course, many of the decorations were created by the kids. They loved seeing their handiwork on display, and I did too.

As the years went by, some of those blessed little creations were left in the Christmas boxes. Little by little, I’d pare down my display. Items like the reindeer head made from a coat hanger covered in pantyhose seemed a little less charming with each passing year. And, honestly, the kids haven’t really noticed that anything is missing.

I don’t know about your house, but here in Casa Karen, I’m the primary elf. I haul up the boxes, unpack the stockings and would decorate all by myself if it weren’t for the fact that our artificial tree is too heavy for me to carry alone. And sometimes, when I’m hanging the umpteenth ornament on the tree while everyone else is watching The Office, I can’t help but think about the fact that I’ll be packing it up again in a few short weeks, I wonder if it’s all worth it. Aren’t I just creating more work for myself?

But as I was considering going sans hall-decking, I realized that it would send a very bad message. It would paint me as an Ebenezer-in-waiting and tell them that Christmas was an inconvenience that I was avoiding. I realized, in that moment of decision – to deck or not to deck – that it was never more important than now for me to keep the tree lights burning and hang on for dear life to our sometimes fading traditions. Why? Because, in my opinion, I think that’s a big part of what a mom does – set a backdrop for family memories. Pretty important, when you think about it.