K R I S T I N SCHMIDT
B R I N G
PRETTY
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Rosie’s Story Once upon a time there was a pretty pink turtle named Rosie, that lost the pretty in her life. As she went through life, she was flipped over on her back due to all the struggles that she faced. While she failed about trying to get back on her feet, she realized that no one was coming to save her. She needed to save herself. It was then that she became calm, stuck her neck out, used her head and flipped herself over. At that moment she realized she had the strength and pretty within her all along‌ And you do too!
B R I N G
PRETTY
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K R I S T I N SCHMIDT
Introduction If you have this book in your hands you are ready to Bring Pretty Back. In this book you will discover a lot about yourself. Take stock of your life where you are today, find peace in all your decisions, and move forward to a pretty life. I hope this book inspires you to take a stand for what brings you happiness. You will be encouraged to paint your pantry door lime green and color your hair sexy red if you have always wanted to be a little daring. You may quit a job that isn’t right for you or stay in a marriage you thought was over. Join me in the journey to Bring Pretty Back; it may not be easy, but I promise you, it’s worth it—because you’re worth it.
Words of Wisdom from Coco Chanel “I don’t understand how a woman can leave the house without fixing herself up a little. If only out of politeness. And then, you never know, maybe that’s the day she has a date with destiny. And it’s best to be as pretty as possible for destiny.” Coco Chanel Isn’t that just a perfect quote? I am going to copy this on pretty paper and frame it and put it on my nightstand so I will read it every morning when I wake up as a little reminder to be as pretty as possible for destiny! Thank you, Coco.
Big Have you ever had something big happen to you even though it cannot be seen by anyone else? I call that quietly big. You have heard about these things before. Someone makes a cake and something stirs in them when they realize they absolutely love baking. Someone takes a class in jewelry making, and they discover a talent they never knew they had. That happened to me the very day I wrote my first word on my blog that has now turned into this book. Have you had a quietly big moment in your life? It is amazing, isn’t it? Even if the only person in the world that knows about it is you.
Discontentment Isn’t Pretty If you are unhappy, it will show. In your face, appearance, home, weight, everything. I know some beautiful people—they are unhappy; they aren’t pretty. They don’t live pretty lives. There are times in our lives that we aren’t happy; that’s life. There are the tragedies, deaths, divorces, painful times. We don’t know how we will get through them, but somehow, we do. There are the periods of discontentment. Oh, discontentment has weighed me down. It’s that unhappy feeling, and you are ashamed of yourself because you know you should be thankful for what you have. I have V, my boys. We are all in good health and have a very good life. And yet something was missing. You can bleach your teeth and your hair; you can get Mani’s and Pedi’s, lose fifty pounds. But if you aren’t happy, it will show. Unfortunately, I am as fat as I was a month ago, I still have thin hair, my size sixteens are not falling off me. But I am happy, I am content. I am finding myself. I whisper this to you—I am a writer. I dreamt of someday writing a book, I whisper it because there is the self-doubt, the who-doyou-think-you-are that is in me, in us all. What is your whisper? I know it’s there. It’s the thing you think about but keep to yourself because of what people may think. It has crept up in your mind for years and years. It is what you were meant to do; it is your dream. Only you know what it is. I promise you this, when you whisper it out loud, that’s the foundation of bringing your pretty back.
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Pay Close Attention to Jealousy and Envy If you are struggling to find your purpose and passion, I have realized there is something that is an indicator as to what you are searching for. Pay attention to jealousy and envy. I am not talking about jealousy as in someone looking at your guy. I am talking about that little pang you get when you hear about someone doing something and you realize you are a bit envious. Maybe very envious. Those times when you get the “wish it was me” Pay attention to that! That may be your dream speaking to you. That is your dream speaking to you. It is exciting when you pay attention! What makes your eyes a little green with envy? This isn’t necessarily about material things. This isn’t about keeping up with the Joneses. It may reveal to you that you want something like a car, nicer home, etc. But it is more about what is in your heart. What you really long to do. When you hear a friend tell you that she is going back to school, do you feel a bit jealous? If you hear a neighbor is starting a cupcake business, do you think, I could do that! And then for the rest of the day dream of frosting? When you read a fellow blogger is on a book tour, does it make you want to write? If a coworker tells you she will be leaving soon because she has decided to be a stay-at-home mom, do you secretly plan a budget to see if you can do the same? We all feel this way about something. Big or small. We do. I think we just do not pay close attention to it.
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And when we have the envy creep up, we push it away, we dismiss it. And go on with our routine, thinking, well, that is wonderful for them, but I couldn’t possibly do that. Then we think of all of the reasons we can’t. Money, time, the children, our hubbies—on and on and on, we talk ourselves right out of our dreams. Although, sometimes we don’t pay close enough attention to realize that is what that little pang of jealousy is—it’s our heart’s desire. Pay attention. Take notice. Take action. Who knows… maybe someone will be jealous of you when you tell them what you are doing next in your life!
What Are You Crazy Proud Of? Do you make a fabulous homemade pizza? Can you decorate a room with a few simple items and make it look like it belongs in Better Homes and Gardens? Run marathons? Can you sew and make something gorgeous for your home or possibly something to wear? What can you do that you are crazy proud of? I know you are a great momma! That is of course the ultimate pride, but that is not what I am talking about. I’m talking about outside of your family— what are you proud of? That little feeling inside of pride that makes you feel that little electric hum in your soul (that you just know you rock at). You know what I am talking about! I think we tend to dampen that a bit because we feel like we are bragging or boasting so we play it down. Come on, ladies— toot your own pretty horn! What are you crazy proud of?
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Are You a Rock Star or Backup Singer? I believe we fall into one of those categories. Those of us that are more outgoing and make a little more noise—a rock star. And those that are quiet, behind-the- scenes kind of gals—backup singers. It’s funny because each can’t understand why the other feels the way they do. The rock stars love an “Atta girl” and a pat on the back. They know they are pretty but like to hear it. The backup singer ladies don’t need the accolades or the attention. Not only do they not need it, they don’t care for it. They know they are pretty, even without the slap on the back. I think these are the ones that do the most work to be truthful. The world needs both. Which are you? I think you can guess what I am! Would you like my autograph?
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Not-So-Sweet Sixteen I am not feeling so pretty today. I had to go get new jeans today because the only pair that fit me ripped. Yep, the entire thigh. Big rip. So off to the store I went. Grab my size fourteens—got them home, and they were too small. So, I went back and had to get not-so-sweet sixteen I am so mad at myself! I’m blowing the dust off the treadmill, because going up a jean size is an indication you need to get a grip on things. It’s time for a little less time on the couch and a little more time on my feet. Doing something—anything—that gets you moving.
It’s a New Dawn; It’s a New Day That song came to me this morning as I was lying in bed. “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day. It’s a new life for me. Oh! I’m feelin’ good!” Maybe a little too much American Idol? I knew I had to put yesterday’s jean incident behind me. I kind of lost my mind after I got the new jeans home. What would someone upset about getting bigger jeans do? Eat a hot fudge sundae of course. Good grief, Dr. Phil would have a field day with me I’m sure. So, back to my new dawn—I got up, put the coffee on, ran a hot bubble bath, threw a load of whites in the washer with extra bleach, took an extra-long bubble bath, shaved everything but my head, and now I am going to do my hair like I am going somewhere important— even though I am not leaving the house today.
Being a “I don’t mind living in a man’s world, as long as I can decided to change my attitude.” So far so good! My attitude has gone from being a woman is a chore and drudgery to being a woman is a privilege. I have decided the time it takes me to get ready for the day, the things that make me prettier and feel better about myself, the things I do to take better care of myself are a privilege. It is amazing what a little change in attitude can make. I am lucky. I have everything I need to pamper myself. I have taken it all for granted. I have cosmetics, nail polish, lotions, and so much more. How about even getting more basic? I have running water and electricity. Not all women in the world do. I think we are so spoiled we lose sight of that. I hear ya, Marilyn. I most certainly want to be a woman and all that goes with it! Bubble baths, the color pink, mascara as well as strength, confidence, tenacity—all of it!
What Makes You Feel Pretty? We all have different ways in which we feel pretty. While painted nails and bubble baths make me feel pretty, it may not make you feel that way. Shoes really aren’t my thing. I have never owned more than a few pair at a time. You may need to add a wing on the house for all of yours, and maybe a huge walk-in shower would make you feel like a princess. Whatever it is for you, do it. I don’t have a huge spa tub. I have a plain old’ bathtub. But I still make it as special as I can with bubble bath and candles. I can’t get professional pedicures as often as I’d like, but I have my Ped Egg and pink nail polish!
Saying Thank You is Pretty I am always telling V thank you. For almost everything. I tell him thank you for working so hard at his job to provide for us. I say thank you if he takes me out to dinner to an overpriced restaurant, a burger at McDonald’s, for handing me a napkin, or filling up my car with gas. I can’t tell you the last time I opened my own door; I say thank you every single time. I think it’s easy to fall into a pattern of not being appreciative of your spouse. It is easy to take one another for granted. It takes no effort to say thank you.
I Wanted A Thorough Exam I hadn’t been to the gynecologist for a few years, even though I know better. I know the importance of a yearly exam. I got the name of a doctor from a friend of mine; she highly recommended him. Another friend also went to him; she also had high praise. So, I made the appointment deciding to be a big girl and go. That is always a dreaded drive, isn’t it? I signed in. They took me back to the exam room. I put on that paper gown. I read somewhere to leave your socks on, and that is supposed to make the pelvic exam more relaxing and comfortable. I had on those thick, almost slipper-type socks on. Then the doctor did that light knock on the door, and into the room he came. He looked like he could be on General Hospital. I was expecting—because of the doctor’s name—someone like Wilford Brimley. Please know that I am not interested in the gyno! That is not the point. The point is, why didn’t my friends mention this to me? So, we proceeded. I wasn’t relaxed. The slipper socks didn’t seem to comfort me. I realized as I was laying there how ridiculous that idea was. After he was all done, he asked if I had any concerns I wanted to discuss. I explained to him that I thought because cancer ran in my mother’s family I thought I should have a breast exam. Both he and the nurse looked at me oddly. That was when he explained to me that he already had done a breast exam at the beginning of the visit. I asked the man for a second breast exam. I was so spun up I hadn’t noticed the first one. No, I never went back. I have a new doctor, and I just love her. 24
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Diamonds Aren’t a Girl’s Best Friend, a Good-Fitting I think Marilyn Monroe would even agree if she were reading my book. I love diamonds as much as the next girl, but there is nothing like a goodfitting bra. And a bad-fitting bra is not pretty! I do not have small boobs. I need a good-fitting bra. I have struggled for years with bad bras. When we were first married, we were on a budget, so I had to make things last. I have had bras I have safety pinned together, broken underwires that thankfully didn’t puncture a lung, stretched-out bras that would be equivalent to a man’s boxers instead of tighty whiteys. I have left the store upset when I have tried on twenty bras and not one fit. I finally found the perfect bra for me after years of searching. Ladies, they are out there—don’t settle. Keep looking for the perfect bra. Now, I realize there are much bigger problems in the world than an illfitting bra. Also, if we have healthy boobs, even if they may not be as perky as they were when we were eighteen, we should be thankful.
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You Get What You Give You get what you give. That is my favorite saying. It really can be applied to every single aspect of your life. Think about it; if you give, you will get. Simple as that. If you give attention to your eating and exercise, you will get healthy and fit. If you give attention to your marriage, you will get attention and love. If you give attention to your job, you will possibly move up the ladder or at least have a job! It also goes the other way. Don’t give and you will not get. If your friends invite you to events and you never go, they will quit inviting you. If you neglect your home, you will get a mess. Whatever you give attention to will thrive and grow. It doesn’t matter if it is a big or small thing in your life—you get what you give.
Procrastination Isn’t Pretty Every year my New Year’s resolution is to lose weight and stop procrastinating! Well I haven’t lost a pound since January, and last week the electric company was here to turn the power off because the check I was supposed to send—a month ago—was in my purse. I wasn’t home, but V was. Yes! He was so very happy with me. V’s dad was here visiting for our son’s graduation party so he was home with V, and that made it just a pinch worse. Unfortunately, my son is like his mother. Years ago, in elementary school, he was waiting for the bus and ran back telling me he had to have a recipe to take to school today, so I grabbed the Betty Crocker cake mix, scribbled the recipe on the back of an envelope, and sent him back out to get on the bus. He came home with my Mother’s Day gift from school. You guessed it—a recipe book filled with the children’s mother’s special recipes. Among the recipes for homemade meatloaf and fancy salads was my special recipe—1 box cake mix, 1 1/4 cup water, 1/3 cup oil, 2 eggs; mix and bake at 350. Like mother, like son.
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Gratitude Is Pretty V usually cuts the grass, but last week he was out of town. So, I put on my iPod, SPF ninety and pink oppy hat and hopped on the lawnmower. I was singing out loud thinking how much I could not wait to build our new, pretty home (which will eventually be built in our backyard.) V had the new home site staked off like a crime scene with bright yellow caution tape wrapped all around trees where the new home will go. While I was mowing between the house we are in and the future home site, I was thinking yet again about how much I just hate the house we are in. I have hated it for years. And for some reason I had the feeling to be thankful for what I had. Which I have not. It occurred to me why would I get more if I wasn’t thankful for what I had? Yes, I have read and heard that for years. But this was different. I thought about when my boys were little and they would have a treat or toy and want another while they were still eating the treat or playing with the toy I would say when you are done with that you can have more. Of course, they would pout and still want more, not being grateful with what they already had. I had been praying for a new home but not being grateful for the home I already had. And here I was asking God for a new one, just like my boys had done with the treats and toys. Shame on me. I got off that mower with a new attitude, no more pouting for me. Are you thankful for what you have? I am now.
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A Child Does Not Camouflage You in a Photo Group photos. It’s a bit like a game. The first thing you do is look at the group, find who is the biggest, and fight for position to stand next to him or her. Otherwise, you may get placed next to the twenty-one-year-old in skinny jeans. If you are lucky and there are little children, that is such a bonus! I have photos from when my boys were small, and there is always one of them in front of me. I thought it covered me a bit so you couldn’t see how much weight I had put on. What possible logic made me think that putting a child in front of me was like camouflage? I wasn’t fooling anyone.
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Dentist and Cocktails I am scared to death to go to the dentist. Not nervous, just scared to death. Maybe it stems from my childhood when the dentist used to hit me when I was scared? He really did. Who knows. I broke a tooth and had to go. So, when I got there, I could barely sign my name because I was shaking so badly. When the dentist came in—I had never met him before—I calmly explained to him I was a wreck. There I was a grown woman and had tears from fright. I suggested maybe we go have a few cocktails and calm our nerves, maybe get to know each other a little better. He assured me all was fine. So, with no cocktails, we got to work. It didn’t hurt a bit! There are great dentists out there, and there is no reason to be scared and avoid going. You just need to find the one for you.
Birds of a Feather Flock Together. Choose Carefully It’s true. Birds of a feather flock together. In high school, the jocks were in the gym, the rebels were together smokin’ in the boys’ room, and the smarty pants were in the library together. We grow up and it continues. People that love to party whoop it up every weekend, mommy groups meet at the park. Like attracts like. Some people need a flock that will fit Yankee Stadium and some prefer a little flock that could fit in a mini cooper. Size doesn’t matter here. To be like minded matters. Choose your flock carefully, because we become what we are around. Do you have big dreams and goals, but your flock sleeps ‘til noon and are so negative that they rarely smile? You need a new flock. You can love them, and you don’t need to totally remove them from your life. You just need to fly with a new flock. Who knows how high you will soar? The sky is the limit, my pretty friend.
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It’s Not Pretty to Lose Your Cool If things get dicey, I fall apart. I hate that about myself. V is just the opposite; he gets very quiet and calm and takes care of the situation. I make a fool of myself. Every year we all go to my parents’ house and can tomatoes. I showed up a few years ago a little late while my parents and brother were canning. I got there, everything was out, but no one was home. Odd, but I just got to work, thinking maybe they went to town for something. I called my sister-in-law at work to see what time she was going to be there…on my mom’s home phone. She answered the phone yelling, what was I was doing at my parents’ house?! I of course said canning. We have a maximum-security prison in our town that is close to my parents’ home, and she told me a prisoner escaped and my family had all left the house for safety! I ran out the door and threw the phone across the yard while she was still talking, hopped in my car, and spun out of there. I hear a loud clunk, from the back of my Tahoe. That’s it…I knew he was in the back. I watched Oprah; I knew not to go to the second location. So, I slammed on the brakes, and I ran to the back of the car and threw the door open. I figured we should get this over with. A can of Campbell’s tomato soup had fallen out of the grocery bag and was rolling around. I was going to be okay. Two things were found that day—the convict in a neighbor’s camper and Mother’s phone in the bushes.
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Sometimes Less Is More and Can Make Life Prettier V had a job last year to build a Holiday Inn in New York. It was a job that would last a few months, so instead of staying in hotels, we rented houses. We rented a big house for the guys and a little apartment in an old huge home that was divided into three apartments for V and myself. The little apartment was tiny and old, but I loved it! The first day we were there, we had to go buy beds. We got twin beds and slept Lucy and Desi style. I went to the store and bought one pan, four plates, four forks, one sharp knife, a cookie sheet, you get the picture—just the basics. It was temporary and we didn’t need more. The neighbors had an old table they were throwing out; they offered it to us so we carried that in for our kitchen table, and the landlord had some old mismatched chairs in the basement we could use. I bought a vinyl tablecloth and a little lamp for the table. A string of white Christmas lights, they went on top of the radiator that had a kind of mantle built around it, and proved to be so pretty and romantic! We had a washing machine in the kitchen, but no dryer, so the radiator also doubled as a dryer. That worked out just fine. We had no furniture other than the beds, a table, and three kitchen chairs. No TV. No Internet.
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That first night V made a boxed pizza—the one that you mix up the dough with water then make it “homemade.” He played music he had on his laptop. We had a wonderful evening in our temporary home. Eventually we got back to real life. We bought a couch and recliner, had Internet and cable. The things we seem to think we need to make life better can make our relationships less intimate. We need to work on balance and also remember sometimes less is more and can make life prettier.
Our News Isn’t Always the Worst News When it rains, it pours, doesn’t it? That being said, I remind myself that someone got much worse news than anything we received. While the things we had to deal with last week were important and caused us grief, we are all okay. It is hard to think that way when you are right in the throes of a dilemma. Believe me, I am the first to admit I get all worked up. Some things are certainly things to get worked up about—losing our jobs, money issues, maybe our children are not going down the path we want for them, illness. Sadly, could list a million troubling things. I can tell you, though, that I know for certain I am blessed. I have never experienced tragedy. Never. Not even close. I need to remember that.
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Was Something Living in My Car? One thing I do that grinds V is I don’t keep my car clean. To be honest, I don’t blame him. Seriously, is it that hard to bring all of the bags in filled with things from the store…not just the perishables? I bought two little cast-iron pans from Goodwill two weeks ago. They are still on the back seat. Coffee cups and McDonald’s bags litter the floorboard. There are also pillows to take back to Marshall’s. I went to my parents’ the other day, driving along, singing to the radio, drinking coffee out of one of the before-mentioned cups. I was changing the station, and I saw something in the little cubby next to the radio on the dash. It was gray and hairy. Panic set in. I was on my parents’ road and had about a half mile to go. I took off my seatbelt because if it moved a hair, I planned to slam on the brakes and get out as fast as I could. I was thinking about how to tuck and roll if necessary. I pulled in the drive, and my dad looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told him, “Something is living in my car.” He walked over and went to reach for it. I screamed for him not to grab it with his bare hands! He went in the house and came out with Mother’s kitchen tongs. That seemed very logical to me. I held my breath while he pulled it out of the cubby. It was my makeup brush. I don’t know what is worse: that I thought something was living in my car or that I couldn’t readily identify my makeup brush.
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A Spade is a Spade and a Muffin Top is…? A fat roll. There I said it. This morning getting ready for the family Christmas party, I got out my control-top panties, control-top pantyhose, and Spanx. I put on my new Christmas outfit. Guess what—that’s a fat roll. We can try to dress it up with a cute name, but that’s what it is. I will remember that when I get to the platter of fudge.
Who Do You Think You Are? I have so many ideas floating around in my head that it sometimes overwhelms me. I just don’t seem to know where to begin. Some are so grand that I swear to you I can hear Ms. Jean Knight singing, “Who do you think you are… Mr. Big Stuff?” I have not challenged myself at all last year. This year has to be different. This is not quite the same as my normal “this year things will be different” speech to myself where I vow to drop some pounds and get more organized. I think it’s because I have spent so much time in the last few months really thinking and blogging about where I am headed in the second half of my life. I have tried to pay attention to what turns my crank and what doesn’t. I know all about the “follow your bliss,” “do what you love and the money will follow,” and all that jazz. Well, I love to eat chocolate and take long bubble baths. To me that is pure bliss. I have been doing that all of my life, and I’ve got to be honest with you—I’ve never made a dime doing it. I think I need to dig a little deeper. I need to take the ideas floating in my mind and make them concrete. “Ohhh yeah, who do you think you are?” Well, Ms. Jean Knight, I think I am smarter than I give myself credit for—even with no college education. I think I am stronger than I have given myself credit for—even though I have crumbled a few times in my life. I think I am a good person—even though I have done some not-so-good things in my life. I think I am creative—even though I have no business owning a glue gun or sewing machine. I just need to keep reminding myself of these matters as I move forward. Who do you think you are?
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Bags—Not Tea or Luggage—My Eyes I was at Walmart looking at all of the products, and one of the little bottles with a roller ball that is supposed to reduce the bags under your eyes caught my attention. It was fifteen dollars. That’s a lotta moola for caffeine in a little tube! I had studied myself that morning, and I just seemed to look so tired. Flat. Oh mercy, I am going to say it—old. I put it in my cart in the little child seat to think it over just a little more while I did the rest of my shopping. I put everything else on the checkout belt. I was still unsure. I asked the gal that was checking me out if she sold a lot of it, but she didn’t really know. And I could tell she really didn’t care. Hmmm, moment of truth: buy it or hand it to her for some poor employee to have to return. I said to her, “I just don’t know. What do you think?” and explained to her it was fifteen dollars after all! She looked at me kind of hard and said, “It couldn’t hurt.” Ouch. “Ring it up,” I said.
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I’m Not Beautiful I don’t fantasize about being at a café and someone discovering me for my beauty. At best, I might be perfect for the woman in a cleaning product commercial. I’m not beautiful, and please don’t take me wrong and be offended: you more than likely aren’t either. The standard for beautiful is so ridiculous. It is put at the same level as perfection. We are all just our pretty selves. Guess what? That’s okay! How our faces are arranged, how thick—or how terribly thin (in my case)—our hair is. Maybe our teeth aren’t perfectly straight—like mine—or our eyelashes may be stick straight and blond—like mine. We have no control over any of that. I am all about bringing pretty back! I am just working with what I’ve got. And I am perfect in my own way. So are you.
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Treating My Bathroom and Kitchen Like a Crime Scene Keeps My Hands Soft I always wear rubber gloves when I clean the kitchen or bathroom or when I do any cleaning that requires water or cleansers. Part of it is because it wreaks havoc on my skin and nails. Also, I can’t stand to clean without them on. Put a thick moisturizing cream on before you slip them on, and you won’t believe how soft it keeps your hands.
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Bringing Pretty Back at Bedtime! I have been guilty of just plopping into bed with my makeup on and have really been working on that. I started with makeup wipes about a month ago. And now I cannot live without them! I have now begun a real nighttime beauty routine. I must admit, I am loving it. Here are some of the things I have done to bring pretty back at bedtime. I love the little headband that you can put on to hold your hair back before you begin. They are inexpensive and make the whole task easier. I pull my hair back and remove all makeup. Then I moisturize. I think this is my favorite part. I feel like I am really taking care of myself when I do this. There are so many moisturizers to choose from. I have been having fun experimenting with the different kinds. To me…eye moisturizer is like little drops of heaven. Next, I brush my teeth and floss. I have started using the teeth whitening mouthwash. When that is done, I am less apt to snack at night. I love a fresh pair of pajamas. I could have a whole closet full of nightgowns and pajamas. I and threw out all of my worn-out, awful pajamas a few months ago. All of my pajamas are now ones I feel pretty in. I have all kinds of lotions in the bathroom. Every night I use a different one neck to toe. A thick hand cream is next. The last thing I do is put a thick moisturizer on my feet— that was a much-needed step. I then cover them up with thick socks, and I am ready for bed. 42
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I have also started wearing a sleep mask. I know I look a little dorky. I am seriously considering a sleeping bonnet I saw at TJ Maxx last week. It is silky and is supposed to keep your hair from getting all gnarled up. I think V might think I came off the set of the Little House on the Prairie, so maybe this is pushing it. I have noticed I am sleeping better. I go to bed feeling pretty and wake up feeling prettier because I don’t have yesterday’s makeup and grime left over to contaminate a new day. Why in the world didn’t I start my bedtime beauty routine earlier? I was lazy for one thing, and I am ashamed to admit. Don’t use the excuse that you are too busy, the children, laundry, or other household chores are keeping you from a bedtime beauty routine. You have to make the time. Once it is a routine and you have everything ready before you begin, it doesn’t take long at all. You are worth the time. They call it beauty sleep for a reason!
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Nights on White, Pink, or Blue Satin I read about the beauty benefits of a satin pillowcase, so I have switched my cotton pillowcase to a satin one. I knew a full set of satin sheets were not an option for V. He is most certainly not a satin kind of guy. So, a satin pillowcase just for me— perfect. I love it for so many reasons! For starters I feel pretty when I slip into bed. Your hair and face glide across the pillowcase so there is less pulling and friction. That results in less hair breakage and lines on your face. I figure every little thing I can do helps!
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To Thine Own Self Be True “His above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man” (Hamlett, Act 1). That is about the only thing I have ever read of Mr. Shakespeare’s work, and I must tell you I believe it is brilliant. What does it mean exactly? Well, don’t try to be someone else or try to be what someone else wants you to be. Be yourself! We see others with seemingly perfect homes, careers, and marriages. It starts when we are young—we try to please our parents, teachers, and friends. Then we get a little older and we try to please our spouse, children, and the community. We see brilliant ideas and wonderful things and think that is just the thing we need to do/try/ buy. Even if it is not us whatsoever. We do it with decorating—do you really think in the seventies all of a sudden everyone just suddenly fell in love with orange, wrought iron, and mushrooms? Or, in the eighties, everyone fell in love with mauve and blue or sea foam green and peach? Next came shabby chic and now gray. If you love any of those colors—that is wonderful. But if you really want a purple living room like my friend Kelly—go purple! I went out on the edge and painted my entrance hot pink and white. Even the paint lady at Home Depot gave me a funny look. Guess what? I am a hot pink kinda gal! I love it, and I have received more compliments on that than anything I have ever done in a home. But if everyone hated it, I wouldn’t care. It’s me.
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There are the careers that seem to go in a trend. Did you become something you didn’t want to become because of others’ ideas? I hope not. Are you a teacher but secretly long to be a tattoo artist? Do you work in an office and dream of owning a little organic garden selling produce? Are you a blond but have always wanted to be a redhead? “To thine own self be true.” Why is it so hard to be ourselves? Our true selves. Fear, I guess; fear of someone not liking us— thinking we are odd. It really is ridiculous. Do everyone a favor, most importantly you, and be yourself. Thank you, Mr. Shakespeare, you were a wise man.
Mini Bucket List We all know about the bucket list—from the movie The Bucket List. Things you want to do before you kick the bucket. I have one. You may too. I hope you do. It can be a little daunting because they are mostly lofty goals. The bucket list is usually big dreams and goals. For example: climb Mt. Everest, learn to sail, adopt a child, join the Peace Corps, build your dream home, go back to school, start a business, write a book. I have started a mini bucket list. A list of things that can be easy to do in a short amount of time. Things I will really do—things I can do today. Some examples of things on my mini list are walk thirty minutes a day, learn to make homemade bread, organize my closet, and wash my front door. Nothing major that requires a lot of effort or time, but will make my life a little nicer and prettier.
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Pretty Vision Is Necessary Do you have a vision? You can call it a dream, a vision, or a plan. But without any of these things, you are drifting. Floating. Bobbing like a cork in the water. All over the place yet going nowhere. And when storms come in life—and they always do—you capsize. Then it’s even harder to right yourself. When I am bobbing and floating, I am unsettled. Depressed. I eat too much and move too little. But when I get my thoughts clear and have a vision, I am more me. I am thinking about how to bring pretty back constantly. The vision I have for all of it is becoming crystal clear. The book, the YouTube and radio shows, the workshops are becoming crystal clear and a reality. I am not floating. I have put down the anchor. How about you? Are you floating, going nowhere, or have you put down your anchor?
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Celebrate Those Birthdays! A friend of mine is turning fifty. She said she does not want a party. Does not want a cake. Wants the day to go by without so much as a whimper of happy birthday. Why shouldn’t we celebrate our birthdays, ourselves, our lives? We spend our years raising our children, our marriages, maybe a garden, and hopefully, if you are really living, a few eyebrows. Guess what—with or without a cake, with or without a party, you will be the age you are. Yes. It is true. So why oh why not celebrate? If you feel old, make some changes! Start a hobby! Start a business! Color your hair! Take up pole dancing for exercise. Do something that celebrates you! Blow those candles out with aplomb. Don’t pretend that it’s not your birthday. Celebrate your life.
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Peanut M&Ms and a Seatbelt Extender V travels a lot for his business, so I try to go see him when he’s gone because he is sometimes gone for months at a time. Recently on a flight layover, I bought myself a big bag of peanut M&Ms, a More, and a Redbook magazine. (I got the big bag because it was a long flight—like that makes a difference.) But I justified it that way, like I need to keep my strength up or something. I settled into my aisle seat and started watching the people. Here came a husband and wife, and they sat down. She was in the aisle seat directly across from me. When it was time to fasten the seatbelts, things took a bad turn. The husband put his on. She was working on hers, but it wasn’t going well. She started pulling the seatbelt with all of her might. The husband now got involved, and he was trying to pull the seatbelt even tighter. The poor woman was sweating and bright red, both from the effort and humiliation. I was pretending I was reading a magazine, which I was not. I was cheering for her in my head to get that seatbelt on. We all knew it wasn’t going to happen. I think if that woman could have broken her own pelvis to get in that seatbelt, she would have. I was even thinking to myself that maybe if I grabbed a hold of it from my angle I could assist them. I rethought that and kept my eyes on that magazine. Soon, the flight attendant showed up—with the extender, or the strap of shame for that poor woman. All belted in, we were ready for takeoff. When the beverage cart came around, I asked for a Diet Coke and threw those peanut M&Ms in the trash.
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Priceless yet Costs Nothing What is priceless and costs nothing? Anyone can do it. No matter our age, weight, size. What is it? A smile. A genuine smile. Not a smile you put on right before you have the family photo taken or the photo as you are standing in front of some sort of monument on vacation. I mean a real happy smile. A smile! You know what I mean. A smile that makes your eyes sparkle. Are you thinking, I have nothing to smile about? You are going through some tough times? Then you are the one I’m talking to the most. Do it right now. Smile. You are already so much prettier just by doing that. And don’t you feel happier too? A smile. Priceless. Just like you.
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At-Home Beauty Day Today I am going to give myself a head-to-toe pampering beauty day. A home mani/Pedi—the Ped Egg is coming out of the drawer. Deep conditioner on the hair. Shape up the eyebrows and facial mask. I will exfoliate and moisturize. I need it, both physically and mentally. Nothing like a beauty day! When was the last time you treated yourself to a day of beauty and pampering? I highly recommend it!
Go with Your First Choice! Last Christmas season I was at the fabric counter of a fabric store chain—I cannot remember why, because I do not even own a needle— anyway, there was a woman standing there in decision angst. One fabric was a bold, purple paisley. The fabric was a mix of many colors of purple—from deep purple that almost looked black to light purple. It was bold, and it was gorgeous. The other fabric was a conservative pattern—get this, I can’t remember what it looked like—but it was blah and obviously forgetful. I decided to butt my nose in and ask her what she was going to do with it. She told me she was making a Christmas tree skirt. I asked her what her first choice was. Without a thought she told me the bold paisley. “Well then, there’s your answer,” I said. She was worried that because the pattern was so different people might think she was silly choosing that one. Okay… now…really? What is wrong with us that we are concerned what people think about our tree skirt choices? I said, “It’s like when you go to the restaurant and right away you know you want a certain thing, but keep looking at the menu or possibly someone you are with orders something that you think maybe would be better, so you choose the alternate.
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Then you get your meal, and while maybe what you ordered was fine, it wasn’t what you wanted. You should have gone with your first choice.” I told her it’s usually the same with lots of things. I told her to go with the bold paisley. It was gorgeous. It was her first choice. She bought the paisley. And I know she sat in front of that tree and loved it. Go with your first choice no matter what it is. It’s hardly ever wrong— for you.
Are You Still Wearing your High School Makeup? If you graduated high school in the last century—like myself—it may be time to update a bit. We rocked that blue eye shadow hard in the eighties, and it may be time to say good-bye. Maybe an updated look is in order. The department stores have free makeovers for those of us that need a little guidance. Thankfully.
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Going Shopping in Your Own Home We are all cutting back in these economic times, and as women, I know we usually put ourselves last. Sometimes out of guilt, and sometimes out of necessity. This morning I decided to go shopping in my own home. This is what I did: I grabbed a large basket and started gathering everything that could help me bring pretty back. First, I started in the bathroom V and I share. I put everything in the basket—the little shampoos from the hotel, bottles of nail polish, tiny bars of soaps, razors, body wash, lotions, deodorant, lipsticks—pretty much everything V wouldn’t touch went in the basket. Then I was off to the other bathroom, then the junk drawers, my bedroom, my purse, and makeup bag. Next, I started going through everything. First, I sorted everything and threw out everything that was either old or I just didn’t want anymore. Then I organized everything into categories: bathing, makeup, nails, etc. It is amazing how much we already have. I decluttered and organized and found things I forgot I already had. Bought and paid for!
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There Are Three Levels of Friendship I was out with two friends a few years ago, and one of them said, “You two are my L3s.” She went on to explain that while in church that morning the sermon was about friendships. And there were three levels of friendship. Level 1. These are the people you see all of the time. They know your name and a bit about you. This might be the cashier at the grocery store, your child’s teacher, a mom of one of the children on your son’s soccer team. More of the “Hi! How are you?” “Fine, how are you?” “Fine…” And you keep walking. Level 2. I believe this is the majority of people in our lives. These are people we have either known all of our lives or maybe just met, but you jive. You enjoy each other. They are the people you invite to your parties, vacation with, text, e-mail, and send out the yearly Christmas card to. They would be on your porch with a casserole if, God forbid, someone died. And you for them. They genuinely care about you. And you for them. They may eventually fade from your lives, not because of a falling out, but because the friendship just ran its course. No hard feelings, it just happens. Our lives change. Divorces, children grow up, and the children are no longer friends, they marry someone you just can’t stand or possible you marry someone they can’t stand. People change; things change.
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Level 3. This is the deepest level of friendship you can have with someone. They are the people you trust your children, life, and secrets with. This is a small group. It possibly may include one other person. This is the person you call first if your boyfriend asks you to marry him and the first person you call if he asks for a divorce. The first person you call if you get pregnant, and the first person you call crying the day they move out. They could read your journals if you died and not judge you, or better yet gather them all and burn them so your deepest darkest secrets stay just that—secret. They know what you are thinking. Sometimes before you even know what you are thinking or want to admit it to yourself. They do say I told you so but don’t rub it in. They tell you the truth even if it hurts and you do the same for them. I believe L3s are true friends—a soul mate friend. I thank God for mine, and I consider it an honor to be considered an L3 to them.
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From Playing House to Drudgery When you were little, did you play house? I did; I loved it. I loved everything about it and dreamed of one day having my own home. I made cakes with my Easy- Bake Oven, took care of my “babies,” my dolls, especially my Baby Alive doll. I even loved the little Baby Alive diapers I had to change! I know real life isn’t quite as fun as when we were little girls playing house. I am not really comparing playing house as a child and keeping house as an adult. When V and I were dating in high school, my friends were talking about going to college and careers. I knew I wanted to be a housewife and stay home. And if I am really going to be honest with you, it has been a long time since I really felt that way. I cleaned, although not all that well. Just put a little time in. I have never liked the home we are living in and, I kid you not, didn’t put a thing on the walls for over fifteen years. I treated this house as just that, a house, a dwelling, not a home. I needed to change my attitude. I needed to remember why I wanted to be a housewife and take care of my home and family. I put on my uniform this morning to get my head in the game. I bought a cute, pink, floral, vintage apron at a yard sale with a pink towel attached on the left side for a leftie like me. This morning I got it out of the drawer. Sometimes things become mundane and more like drudgery when really, they are a blessing. Shame on me for forgetting that.
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Letting Little Things Annoy You Isn’t Pretty We are all cutting back in these economic times, and as women, I know we usually put ourselves last. Sometimes out of guilt, and sometimes out of necessity. This morning I decided to go shopping in my own home. This is what I did: I grabbed a large basket and started gathering everything that could help me bring pretty back. First, I started in the bathroom V and I share. I put everything in the basket—the little shampoos from the hotel, bottles of nail polish, tiny bars of soaps, razors, body wash, lotions, deodorant, lipsticks—pretty much everything V wouldn’t touch went in the basket. Then I was off to the other bathroom, then the junk drawers, my bedroom, my purse, and makeup bag. Next, I started going through everything. First, I sorted everything and threw out everything that was either old or I just didn’t want anymore. Then I organized everything into categories: bathing, makeup, nails, etc. It is amazing how much we already have. I decluttered and organized and found things I forgot I already had. Bought and paid for!
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It Isn’t Pretty to Belittle Your Hubby over an Ear of Sweet Corn I was at a farmer’s market recently getting some sweet corn. I was on one side of the table of corn. There was a couple in their forties on the other side. I don’t put a whole lot of thought into the choosing of the corn process. It is $2.99 a dozen. I roll the dice, and I get what I get. The woman on the other side of the table didn’t quite do it my way. She held the bag and told the husband to get the corn. And she didn’t say it sweetly. So, he started placing the corn in the bag without peeling it. The horror! The wife told him how stupid he was because how would he know if the corn was good if he didn’t check? They were only getting six ears of corn, so I guess she thought every ear was important. I looked at the husband—he looked at me—he felt like an idiot. Truth be told, I looked at both of them like they were idiots. What would possess a woman to belittle her husband over sweet corn? And why would he stand there and take it? It wasn’t pretty. They should have rolled the dice with a dozen and not made fools of themselves. It worked out perfectly for me.
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Slippery Slope I was speaking to a friend the other day, and we were discussing how to keep romance alive in marriage. She confessed that their marriage has lost the intimacy they once shared now that they are parents. The master bedroom has turned into the living room. There are times she also said it was beginning to be a problem with her and her hubby. I bet it is. I won’t get into the debate of children in the marital bed or not‌ that’s your business. I will say this: you are on a slippery slope when you do not make a private place for you and your husband. This is a subject that so many of us struggle with. For now, I will just say: slippery slope, ladies. Slippery slope.
Saran Wrap and a Cocktail “Let the wife make the husband glad to come home, and let him make her sorry to see him leave.” —Martin Luther I love this quote. Do you and your spouse or loved one make each other feel this way? I hope so. What do I do to make V glad to come home? What don’t I do? One little thing I do is try to greet him at the door. A little 1950s? Maybe. I didn’t always do it; there were times I barely said hi. If I was on the phone with a friend, I kept talking; or maybe I was making dinner or watching something on TV. You get the picture. There were many times I didn’t make the husband glad to come home. And there were days I wasn’t sorry to see him leave. While I do try to look pretty, maybe I’ll spice it up and greet V dressed in cling wrap and holding a cocktail?
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Is Your Bedroom a Sanctuary or a Storage Shed? Our bedroom is at the end of our ranch-style house, and things seem to get dumped there. Like a storage shed. It is not very pretty. We have a bedroom set from the early eighties, and it looks it. Why the laundry makes it to the bed and the top of the dresser and not inside the dresser or closet is beyond me. Then it somehow makes it to the floor—hmm? Is it clean or dirty? So, it gets washed again. Not to mention the stacks of magazines, luggage that hasn’t been put away from a trip months ago, gift bags for gifts I will someday give, the laundry basket of mismatched socks. Once even a deer head that V had mounted (that is now in his office) spent time lying in the corner. I am in the process of making our bedroom pretty. Cleaning and organizing. Lots of white paint. No deer heads allowed.
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The Hair Dryer Incident Sadly, I have a few stories of how it’s not pretty to lose your cool. This is one of them. The day of my cousin’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party, I was getting ready to go to my parents’ house. Mother uses rollers, so she doesn’t use a hair dryer. My hair is thin and stick straight, so a hairdryer is critical for me. She dug her hair dryer out of the closet from the eighties so I was good to go. The end of the hairdryer was missing, but it worked. Halfway through drying my hair, I accidently stuck my finger in the end—into the fan. It made a horrific noise and hurt terribly, so naturally I threw the hairdryer and grabbed a towel and wrapped my hand tightly and ran into the kitchen telling Mother what happened. She told me to let her see my finger, but no! I was injured and needed immediate medical attention! So, she yelled for my dad to rush me to the hospital. Off we went. I was a wreck. When we got to the hospital, I rushed in. I saw the nurse was my high school friend’s mother. I was so happy—she would get me through this. She took the towel off. Then she told me to look—not a scratch. I was going to pull through. Maybe I should have let Mother take a peek.
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Life’s too Short to Sit at the Table A few years ago, V and I were out with friends at a little dive bar, the kind of place you drink your beer out of the bottle because you know the glasses don’t get washed… the kind of place you can let your hair down. Around that time my grandma was in the nursing home, a stroke left her unable to walk or talk, and I had been spending a lot of time visiting her. While we were out, as it normally goes, the girls were dancing, then some of the guys started dancing—not V. After a few more dances and a few more beers, I went over and asked him to dance again. He gave me the “look” and said no. I sat down and said very calmly to him that for months I had been going to that nursing home and watched the ladies and gentlemen sitting at tables staring straight ahead just like he was doing. And I would bet any one of them would love to trade places with him because he had the ability to get up and have fun, while they were unable to get up and dance. I explained to him, while I could, I was going to enjoy myself. I then went back to our friends and went back to dancing. Guess what happened? When I turned around, V was dancing. Now, I am a terrible dancer, and, God help me, an even worse singer. Grandma Mary told me I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket and she was right. But oh! When we go out and I sing karaoke, I think I’m a rock star! There more than likely will come a day when I am sitting in a nursing home at a table. But for now, I will sing and dance, while I can, even though I know I’m the furthest thing from a rock star.
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I Am Not Loved Less Even if I Come Last V and I have three sons. And that is much different than having daughters. I made peace with that years ago. When the boys were still little I became aware of how holidays and life was different between having sons and daughters. I watched women get all spun up if their children made plans to do something different than what was always done. Easter at Grandma’s, Christmas at Mother’s, Thanksgiving at Auntie’s…I decided many years ago not to get spun up, not to get my feelings hurt when my boys went in different directions. Not be one of “those” mothers that make everyone feel guilty when things change. And things always change. That is life. In our culture the wife’s family seems to come first. Does that mean our sons love us less? No! Absolutely not. I have tried to raise my boys with the idea that their wives come first in their lives. Sigh…even before their mother. It’s not easy for me, that’s for sure! All three boys are adults, none of them are married yet. And I can feel the separation coming. I know the boys have talked to each other about how to work all of this out. They don’t want to hurt feelings, that sort of thing. I have been quietly watching. I promise not to get my feelings hurt. I know they love me. I am proud of the men they grew up to be.
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Pretty Frosting‌ for Ourselves And I do not mean butter cream! I am talking about frosting for ourselves. Bringing pretty back frosting can start with a cool pair of sunglasses or earrings. Maybe a fresh new haircut or color. A gorgeous new lip color or eye shadow. Frosting for ourselves is as different as the varieties for cakes. We all have different tastes. That is what makes us unique! What do you do to add a little sparkle or fun to your appearance?
Four Things to Do Today to Bring Pretty Back Some things I (we) can do right now to feel pretty. Some are just to feel happy. Here is what I came up with. Your weight is of no concern. 1) Do your nails. Paint them, file then, buff them, get fake ones. Doesn’t matter. Just do something with them. Mercy, even if it is to just clean them. 2) Deep condition your hair. Something fancy from the salon or cheap old’ Suave. Take five minutes for heaven’s sake and slap it on there. 3) Smile. Right now. Smile. Not a smile like you are getting your picture taken and it’s kind of a half-smile and you think you are looking’ pretty hot. No—so huge you can just about see your wisdom teeth. 4) Buy a new coffee or tea. (You know when you go to the store and pick it up and think to yourself, who would pay ten dollars for a bag of coffee? But then you’ll go spend ten dollars on potato chips.) Buy the coffee.
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In It to Win It… and a Bit Cocky A few years ago, I made the decision to lose weight and get healthy. I worked out. I ate healthy. I was “in it to win it!” I lost thirty-two pounds. I felt better about myself, looked better—I was happy! So naturally I stopped it all and went back to my old ways and put forty-two pounds back on. Back in my healthy glory days, I loved to go grocery shopping. I was proud of myself because I had seen the light! I felt so very sorry for the woman with Oreos and ice cream in her cart while mine was full of fruits and veggies. Oh yes! I thought I was something else, almost a little cocky. What a fall from grace! Pay attention to the carts in the grocery stores. The contents usually match the owner pushing the cart. Where you see healthy carts, you usually see healthy looking people. When you see Oreos, ice cream, and frozen pizzas, well, you have probably seen me. But not anymore! I am digging out the fitness magazines, and I will use my exercise ball for workouts and not a footstool. I am going grocery shopping tomorrow, and in my cart, you will see my old friends—fruits and veggies. And I will be pushing that cart a little cocky! I’m back—in it to win it.
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A Lighthouse or a Flight of Stairs Shouldn’t Take Me Out A few summers ago, V and I visited a lighthouse. We decided to go to the top. So up the spiral staircase we went. I got halfway up and pretended to look out the tiny window. What was really happening? I thought I wasn’t going to make it. V was ahead of me so he wasn’t aware I was about to go down. My heart was pounding so hard I was getting concerned. I was gasping for air. That is when a lovely lady in what appeared to be her seventies passed me. I finished the climb and knew I had to get my act together. I started walking thirty minutes a day the very next day. There is no reason to be more out of shape than the elderly, when you are middle aged and have no reason not to be active.
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This Is My Second Act More magazine has the most wonderful piece they publish very month called “Second Acts.” It features women who after the age of forty decided to do what they were meant to do when they grew up. One story was about Colleen Fitzpatrick, “A former nuclear physicist, Colleen Fitzpatrick once designed equipment for NASA to send to Jupiter. Now she scours the earth for missing persons, dead or alive” (More Magazine, May 2010). Now, my book may seem a little lackluster compared to Colleen, but I tell you, I am over the moon with excitement! I go to bed and wake up with Bringing Pretty Back on my mind. I am in my glory! This is my second act! What’s yours?
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I Am Not Stopping This Time! Exercising every day and eating healthy really does work! I have fifty pounds to lose, but I am on my way, and I am not stopping this time! I claimed I was in it to win it two years ago. I was on fire! I was exercising, losing weight. Thought I had this weight thing beat… I discovered something about myself: I will never have it beat. I lost thirty- two pounds, but I gained over forty pounds. I will have to keep working on this my whole life. Exercise needs to be a part of my daily life. I need to change my eating habits…for the rest of my life. Does that mean I will not eat sweets and snacks? Of course not. I most certainly will. I just need to get it under control. Do I love Fiber One cereal for breakfast instead of pancakes? No. Do I love getting up at 5:30 Am. to exercise? No. Do I love putting on smaller jeans? Yes! Do I love walking up stairs and not have to worry about making it to the top? Yes! Every day we are given the opportunity to make healthy or unhealthy choices. I am trying to make the majority of them healthy ones. There are days I don’t make healthy choices …the next morning I will get up pour myself a bowl of Fiber One cereal and try again.
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Count Your Blessings More Than Calories I know I talk about weight a lot in this book. Mainly because it seems to affect me more than anything as I am working on bringing pretty back in my life. Last night I was pondering this—and a thought came to me—I need to start counting my blessings more than I count calories. And I need to make the changes necessary to be happy and healthy. The calories will take care of themselves.
Don’t Quit… Stay Strong… for Twenty-Four Hours Today I almost caved at the grocery store. I wanted candy and snacks. I chose string cheese and apples. I was thinking as I loaded my healthy choices in the car: I will stay strong for the next twenty-four hours. I will not quit for twenty-four hours. I can do just about anything for twenty-four hours. We can do just about anything for twenty-four hours. Can’t we? Yes, we can. Are you struggling with your weight—don’t quit! Stay strong for twentyfour hours. Are you possibly struggling in your marriage? Don’t quit! Stay strong for twenty-four hours. Are you looking for a new job? Don’t quit! Stay strong for twenty-four hours. Whatever you are going through…don’t quit! Stay strong for twenty-four hours. After twenty-four hours…stay strong…and do it again— for another twenty-four hours.
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Regrets Regrets—we all have them. Some are big regrets that we relive over and over, wish with all our heart we could turn back time, do things differently. If you are in that group, I do not need to list examples of big regrets. You already know them. Some are little regrets: a party we missed, a date because we thought we hadn’t lost those last few pounds, a house we didn’t put an offer on. On and on the list of regrets could go. Here’s the thing—poring over our regrets will not change things, playing things over in our heads imagining a different outcome, if we had just done things differently, will not change things. This thinking just keeps you in the past. Look at what you are regretting as a lesson to be learned. Do things differently—now. Learn from what you regret—let’s not call it a mistake because it wasn’t. It was just what you did in the past. Leave it there, to rest.
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So… What Do You Do? That is a hard question for me to answer. I was introduced to a bunch of ladies recently, and of course that is the normal question people ask when the introductions get going. “So, Kristin, what do you do?” Hmmmm. What do I do? I blog. I am an author, I do a radio show. I am a mother— yet all the boys are grown. I am a wife, and I will say I love taking care of V, love being a homemaker. But aren’t we all? If you work full time, you are still a homemaker. Actually, you are superwoman. I tip my hat to you. And when people say, “What do you do?” what are they really asking? How successful are you? What’s your worth? You know it’s true. I know I have worth. You know you have worth no matter what you do. Why is this such a loaded question for us? Why is this such a hard question for me to answer? What do I do? I am inspiring women to Bring Pretty Back into their lives! I am an author. What do you do? Whatever it is, say it with pride!
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How Soon “Not Now” Becomes “Never” I was born an entrepreneur. It’s in my heart. It’s in my soul. I am constantly thinking of business ideas. I will admit sometimes I wish I could just stop, be content. I have come to the conclusion to embrace it and just keep jotting biz ideas down in my pink notebook. Sort out what ideas are doable and what are not worth exploring. I read a quote today that said this: “How soon ‘not now’ becomes ‘never.’” Isn’t that the truth? I do not know who said it. Amazing how just a few words can give you the spark you need to move forward with something…and all of a sudden, it seems possible! Do you dream of being a doctor? It will take hard work and a lot of time, if you don’t call the college, you can’t begin. Call today! Do you desire a spouse and have been thinking of joining an online dating service? Take your profile pic and join! Have you always wanted to write a book? I know that feeling! You have written that book in your mind over and over. I know you have. Start with one word and keep going. I believe in you and I am cheering you on! If I can do it, you can too. I love this quote by Toni Morrison: “If there’s a book you really want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”
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KRISTIN SCHMIDT
Have you been thinking of starting a business and don’t know where to begin? Find someone that has a similar business and ask them questions. Most people are wonderful and will guide you. I have done this myself and have been blessed with great advice and help. Whatever it is in your heart do something today to bring it into your life. You will be amazed how pretty you feel when you do.
Life Is Pretty Take the time to enjoy all of the pretty things life has to offer. Time with friends and family or maybe a little solitude, a new recipe you have been wanting to try, reading a good book, making your house a home with a project, planting some flowers. Do whatever it is that makes you happy. Isn’t that what life is really about? Life isn’t perfect… But it can be pretty.
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KRISTIN SCHMIDT
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PRETTY
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K R I S T I N S C H M I D T About me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me. This is about me.