I'm happy for her, but. . .

My daughter stopped by last night to drop off some magazines. I'm thrilled that she's dropped 4 dress sizes because she was dangerously close to being a diabetic and has a full range of other endocrine problems including thyroid cancer, Hashimoto's and metabolic syndrome. We can't do much with the genes we were given, and the endocrine system can get out of whack causing severe problems. She was always beautiful at any size, but I'm thrilled she's healthier--the labs are all back to normal. And it's all been through a very disciplined exercise program. Thyroid medication and diets did nothing for her. Exercise did. She's switched to an exercycle (mine, since I wasn't using it) after an injury, but is ready to return to the treadmill in her basement. For some people it's diet, some it's exercise, some it's both. The point is to get healthy and hit a balance.

However, when she told me she thought she'd need a size 8 pair of jeans next, I had flash backs to 23 years ago when she used to borrow my clothes. In her senior pictures she's wearing one of my dresses and one of my suits. I don't think kids dress up for school photos anymore, but in the 80s they still did that.

This morning I took my closet apart, rearranging summer and winter clothes, hanging by color, storing some, pitching others, but was really looking for a size 8 Tall pair of Bill Blass jeans that I'd never shortened, and then "outgrew" so they'd been hanging around feeling blue. After an hour and not finding them, I decided I'd given them away. Then moved my hand to the back of the closet and found them--still with the tags. I have on the other pair (shortened, Easy Fit, "antiqued"), but I'm more than happy to donate to the cause of good health.