I have been preaching to my daughter that women would be so much happier if we would focus not on what our bodies look like, but on what they can DO. This is me not just talking the talk.
Dear Body,
We've been together now for 50 years (this is the same principle as being pregnant for 10 months---that's always made me a little crazy). I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you.
Thank you for being generally healthy. Since my concussion in third grade, I've only been hospitalized to birth babies. I shouldn't take that for granted as much as I do. I promise to be appreciative if you keep it up.
Speaking of babies, I owe a shoutout to my generous hips. I'm sure you are a big reason why I could pop out a baby and be out grocery shopping 24 hours later. When women exchange pregnancy stories, my standard line is, "I am one of those women who could have squatted in the field, had the baby, and then finished picking the row."
Hands, you deserve recognition for all you have done and continue to do. Honestly, it's been non-stop work for you over the years--from steering the handlebars of a bicycle to finessing a field hockey stick to changing diapers to the washing of more dishes and laundry than I care to even remember. And the blogging! Thanks for all the typing, fingers!
Legs, you have carried me hither and yon without fail since I was 11 months old. Just recently, you (with A LOT of help from my glutes) made me one of the few people to make it to the top of a rather steep hill on a hike. Younger legs than you turned back. Thanks for letting me know that you're with me when it comes to putting mind over matter and getting the job done.
To my bosom.* Yes, bosom, because when you're as soft and pillowy as you are, that's the right word. You have provided a soft and welcoming place for many a head to rest upon and it always seems to be appreciated. Not to mention the nursing. Easy-peasy with you on my side!
Epidermis, I owe you big-time. From my early days spending every day on the beach as a toddler, to my high school days on the tennis court and hockey field, to the days and weeks and months I spent on the deck of a pool while raising my kids, you have taken rare abuse. Even with sunscreen (which wasn't even invented when I was a kid), you have put up with a lot. I shouldn't be complaining about wrinkles when I'm lucky not to have melanoma.
I know I'm leaving some parts of you out, but you get the picture, right?
I don't know if necessarily want to spend the next 49 years with you, but 40 more would be about right.
Happy Birthday.
*Related. This video. Which. Is. Hysterical.