I took 10 days off of work last week and my sister came down to visit with my brand new, first-ever nephew Carson and her husband. Carson is almost 4 months old now and is heart breakingly adorable in only the way that infants can be. He's old enough now that he's beyond that red, squirmy, roving eye/floppy-neck-skinny-baby stage and is a plump toothless blue eyed little thing that can laugh and smile and puke all over your shoulder. I call him Snarfle and when he vomits I call it snarfling, as in "Uh-oh, Carson just snarfed all over my shoulder, give me the snarf rag." Very versatile word, going from a proper noun, to a verb to an adjective.
I haven't seen my sister since she became pregnant and therefore was totally shocked into silence for a few endless moments when I saw her for the first time since May before last. CC had always been the pretty, popular, slender sister since I can remember, which was a large source of contention for me as a pre-adolescent and a teenager. It seemed with her flawless physique and large lashy doe eyes came a naturally gregarious, confident persona; she was effortless in her ability to make friends and attract men and she was as comfortable naked as she was fully dressed. This, of course, was in direct contrast to my own relationship with life and left me on sleepless nights generally cursing God and genetics and feeling as if the universe was conspiring against me. It didn't help that she was also my mother's "favorite".
To be fair, though, she was mostly kind to me in a faintly patronizing way as only one can be who understands that not everyone will attain membership to the exclusive club into which she was born. There were also times when she would feel particularly beneficent and would allow me to tag along, coaching on how to be "cool" then dragging me to a party, dressed up like a dancing bear and wishing I had the courage to decline her invitations but unwilling to look afraid. Her interest was always brief and normally ended in disaster, with me vomiting uncontrollably and teetering on the verge of alcohol poisoning from a mixture of Grain and bong hits. Over time CC and I became the best of friends and now I would count her among my closest confidants; hard to believe I once tried to put a steak knife through her eye...
So, as I entered my guest room to greet my sister with all the pent up enthusiasm for a sister dearly missed, I stopped dead in my tracks and momentarily wondered who this person was standing in front of me with her arms wide open, ready for a hug. The woman smiling at me with her big moon face looked more like Weird Al Yankovic in his video "I'm Fat" than my dainty sister. She is now shaped like a meatball complete with a "fat hump" on the back of her neck. Now, before I start coming across as a snotty bitch, I would like to say that I have had my own struggle with weight during my lifetime and topped out at 238 lbs when I was nine months pregnant. Although I lost a lot of that weight I still wear a size 14/16, but I am also 5'7" with a medium-large frame. I typically wear a size larger on top than I do on bottom, partly from wide shoulders and partly due to my D cup. Love my boobs, they're awesome.
Anyway, my point is that I'm the last person to knock anyone for their weight and can truly empathize with those who struggle, but CC is so drastically different in appearance from what I have ever known that I literally didn't recognize her. CC lived off of potato chips and Big Macs when we were growing up and still shopped in children's sizes for pants, I shit you not, a size zero was too big. After a few days I got used to looking at her and started seeing my sister again, not some stranger, and she is doing Weight Watchers; she is also the first person to tell you how fat she is now. She even jokes about her hump. Truly, my only concern is her health; she had always been "naturally thin" and never needed to exercise to stay slender. This sounds great but works against her in the sense that she has no athletic abilities to fall back on or much body strength, unlike me, who while overweight, can still run a mile or lift weights with relative ease.
Overlooking that, the visit was just wonderful and left me with lots of happy energy, I miss her already and am hoping to head up to her place sometime this fall to use up the rest of my pitiful PTO. In other news, I started Zoloft for my anxiety and love it so far; I have lots of pictures to publish, and best of all I have a glorious new hair color. I am a sexy red head! My hair has been magically processed into a rich, intense, warm auburn that I absolutely love and judging by the feedback looks phenomenal. Think Titian meets Venus, but better;)