Deatra Haime Anderson Archives - Mothering in the Middle

Frumpy No More

by Deatra Haime Anderson

Deatra’s bitstrip

When I got married 10 years ago, I moved from New York City to a rural little upstate village where a livestock feed store is the main attraction. I brought with me my nearly life-long fashion sensibility and tried, in vain, to keep rocking my 3-inch stilettos, wedge heels and tight jeans. I hobbled along, even in the grocery store, where I ignored the sidelong glances from women dressed in (what looked like to me) pajama bottoms and shoes I’d wear as slippers.

And then I got pregnant. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I stopped holding in my stomach and discovered the mind-blowing comfort of elastic-waist pants. Part of the reason I loved being pregnant, besides the absolute joy of growing my daughter, was being able to wear whatever I wanted and not caring one single bit about my protruding belly. I put away my high-heeled shoes and strutted around in slides and flip flops. I wore my husband’s old button-down shirts and t-shirts and happily tossed on grandpa cardigans when I was chilly. I never felt freer or more comfortable in my life – it was glorious. […]

Fighting Under-Eye Aging

by Deatra Haime Anderson

One of the first places to show aging is under our eyes. Wrinkles, lines, discoloration and puffiness are giveaways. And while nothing (including surgery!) will give us 20-something skin again, there are ways to minimize the impact and renew the vibrancy under our eyes.

Fortunately, you don’t have to go far to start treating under eye issues. There are solutions right in your cupboard:

TEA – Caffeinated teas can constrict blood vessels and reduce swelling, while chamomile tea can soothe redness and inflammation. Soak two tea bags of your choice of tea in hot water for a few minutes. Let cool until the bags are slightly warm. Lie down, close your eyes, place a tea bag over each eye and relax for 10 minutes or so. You can also refrigerate the bags after you’ve steeped them, which is especially refreshing when you need a pick-me-up. […]

Gray Matter

by Deatra Haime Anderson

I’m of a certain age (okay, I turned 50 last August) and have been battling gray hair for at least 10 years. It all seemed to start innocently enough … a few hairs here, a few there, and then before I knew it, it was much more than a few and I didn’t think twice about coloring it.

There are two camps when it comes to the gray hair thing: those that embrace (and rock) it and those that well … don’t. I’m definitely in the latter. I look fairly young for my age (really! I’m the lucky recipient of great genes and plumpy skin) and am sure gray hair would age me. And the thing is, I just don’t want to look older. I have a seven-year-old daughter and even though I usually am the oldest mom at the park (I once had the lovely realization that another mom was exactly half my age), I’m vain enough that I don’t want to look like the oldest mom at the park. […]

Passing

by Deatra Haime Anderson

Here is my confession: I almost never admit my real age. Even when I’m in the company of someone who knows what it is, I won’t say the number. Despite myriad liberal and feminist viewpoints, my age is the one space I cannot make peace with right now. Although I never outright lie about how old I am (except for when I have to enter my birthdate for website memberships), I do lie by omission all the time. […]

Fly in the Buttermilk

by Deatra Haime Anderson

Forty-three years ago, when I was four, I had a friend from nursery school named Debbie. She was white and most significantly, had long brown hair. I was (and still am) African American with very curly hair that my mother painstakingly brushed each day into one or two twisted ponytails that she secured with an elastic band. And on the days I spent playing at Debbie’s house, I invariably unloosed the ponytails hoping that I too might have long, swingy hair that bounced down my back and blew wildly behind me as I ran. Though I doubt my hair actually moved very much, I believed that it did, mostly because I really wanted it to. By the time my mother picked me up, my hair was a rather large (and how I see it now, lovely) cloud. She would grit her teeth, probably embarrassed that I looked a bit like a banshee, and scold me for taking my hair out. […]

If Only

by Deatra Haimé Anderson

I got my first brand new car in my twenties. It was a silver Volkswagen Jetta with a dark grey interior and automatic sunroof. I was in love, freed, finally, from a completely unreliable and unwieldy Pontiac Grand Am that guzzled gas and was impossible to parallel park. […]