The thing is that I hear my mother now clearly when she talks. I hear the things she says and I process them mostly in real time. This is different than how I operated in the past, when the things she said went past me, mostly, and then I would just explode over something that felt random.

That pattern, to be honest, applied to both my parents.

This visit I am nipping annoying conversations in the bud. I am cutting off complaining if there is no solution I can help with. But last night she came at me about how yoga, which I love and just began a new class, will “change your body over time.”

And maybe I need a “body goal” like one of her retired lady friends who took a year to get her waist back.

I don’t like this kind of talk. I’m not taking yoga to change my body. I’m not setting a fucking goal around my body. So we argued. We went around three times on the value of “body goals.” She kept saying, “Well, I like goals.” And I kept saying, “I like goals too but not that goal.”

Then I threw in a few insults of people who do marathons, which I think are hideous events that I don’t want to attend or run or even think about. A bunch of masochists staggering down the streets of New York, with everyone all inspired and teary at the finish line.

I have other strong opinions about forms of exercise and am happy to share them when asked.

I know she’s 80 something, but I don’t approve of the body talk

It’s not like I don’t think about changing my body. I flinch when I see myself naked in the mirror and wonder where all the lumps came from (answer: dinner and wine and hanging around enjoying myself).

I struggle mightily with the desire to be smaller, and to wear better clothes more nicely. Or maybe cheaper clothes more nicely. Being thin makes cheap clothes look a lot better.

BUT I don’t want to diet. It is a terrible way to live. Also I’m very tired and I am not willing to sacrifice any calories for a diet. I need the calories to keep me awake and if I overestimate them on the way in, well, I’m learning my way around this peri-almost-menopausal body.

I’m not shy about it. I talk about it every time I can rope a woman my age into a chat. Is she dieting? What is she doing about getting bigger? Where are we with vanity? What’s worth it? I mean, I can’t do this to every lady I talk to but I seize the moment pretty hard.

I’ve lived my whole adult life trying to be smaller, or slightly smaller, and it’s a fucking snooze fest

Today I muttered “body goal” to myself as a I exercised. I know she’s 82! But I am not going on a diet or hoping that yoga will change my body. I think it will be a good outcome if I get stretchier and don’t have a minor spinal event (which is likely in any yoga class, even Iyengar) and maybe make a fucking pal.

That’s a worthy goal that peripherally involves the body, mom.