A Me-Shaped Box

So it's not that I write to incite any sort of deep thought or anything...it's just that I write for me. I write as me. And so far, it seems to be working. A post over at not that i don't love my kids... raises a great point: Why do moms (and people in general) always try to make themselves fit into a certain box. It's as if we're dying to fit into anything -- so just give us a niche and we'll mold ourselves to resemble it as closely as possible. If that doesn't work, we can try the next one...or the next one. But we go and we go until we fit somewhere -- even if it is only loosely. I suppose it's the human condition. By nature we're social creatures, and without a box to dive into we're all alone. We would float along in life miserably if it weren't for that dang box that we've tried so hard to get ourself into. Wait -- aren't we miserable anyway?

What holds true socially holds true in other aspects of our lives as well. How many times have you went on a diet to try to fit back into those "pre-baby" jeans? Just a little longer with the walking each day and maybe -- just maybe -- we'll be able to revel in the once taken-for-granted size 6 low-rise jeans that used to make our husbands swoon. Not to mention the fact that we actually had a nice ass in them -- and not just a big one. And what if the walking doesn't quite do it? Well there's always carb-abstinence or one of those "Hollywood" juice diets that will pull of that extra 10 pounds that's in between the inseam and your momma thighs. In the end, if we walk and starve long enough we'll be able to fit back into those hot pants. But wait; there's more! (And I do mean more) While you were working so hard to get back into those long sought after pre-baby jeans, you didn't take into account how you'd changed in other ways. You forgot that even though your thighs may fit into the leg portion, you've got that wonderful post-baby jelly belly that hangs over. And who needs low-rise when the midriff you used to bare is now covered from here to Kingdom-come in stretch marks? The point is that even though you fit into pre-baby jeans, it doesn't mean you're pre-baby.

And so why are we doing that to ourselves? Why do we work our asses off to fit into anything? Had we just skipped the work outs and fad dieting, we'd be left with jeans that actually fit and flattered.

I only poke fun at the mommy stereotypes because I can't get around the fact that there even are mommy stereotypes to begin with. I wish I could just stick with being genuine and fitting into a me-shaped box...but this is the real world and I can't seem to shake my urge to fit. Jokingly I say I'm in with the hippies and half-way with the slackers. But honestly, am I really? I'm more than sure I've been striving my entire life to fit somewhere, and I just think those two boxes are the easiest at this point in my life.

Are there any people in the world who really are just themselves? If so, I'd love to meet them...and damn it, they need to blog about it....possibly write a how-to manual.

Where's the miracle-grow? I need to develop the balls to live in that me-shaped box I crave so badly.