Cinderella Has Cellulite

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Authors: Donna Arp Weitzman

BOOK: Cinderella Has Cellulite
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Published by Greenleaf Book Group Press

Austin, Texas

www.gbgpress.com

Copyright ©2014 Howard Bond Media, LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Distributed by Greenleaf Book Group

For ordering information or special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Greenleaf Book Group at PO Box 91869, Austin, TX 78709, 512-891-6100.

Design and composition by Greenleaf Book Group and Debbie Berne

Cover design by Greenleaf Book Group and Debbie Berne

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN: 978-1-62634-210-1

Second Edition

Other Edition:

Print ISBN: 978-1-62634-209-5

To my husband, Herb Weitzman. As Herb read each section after I wrote it, he found the humor, as I did, in the musings of a last wife. He stayed by my side as I traversed the precarious path of a Cinderella romance and never wavered in his love and support. Herb is special
.

And to my sister, Betty Jean Wilbanks. She knows my every thought and is part of the air I breathe. She rejoices with me, chides me when I’m crazy, supports me when I’m low, brings me back to sanity when I flip out, and always loves me
.

My readers, I hope you are as blessed
.

CONTENTS

Ode to a Last Wife

Preface

Introduction

Blinded by Love

If He’s Rich, You’re a Witch

Ties That Bind

Rings and Bling

Cougars and Kittens

It’s Raining Soirees

A Civil Union

The Nest: Yours, Mine or Hers?

The Evil Empire
(Or The Women Who Didn’t Get Him Club)

Whose Kids Are These, Anyway?

The Perfect Progeny

The Long Arm of the Sisters-in-Law

“Trust” Funds

Knives and Needles

Friends Never End!

A Bad Day for Cinderella

The Other Man

Dear Mama Bear

Dear Goldilocks

She or Me—Who’s in This Tree?

Cinderella Has Cellulite

Epilogue: Silver Linings

About the Author

I want to acknowledge my sons, Brandon and Collin, who have lovingly lived with their mom being a Last Wife.

And to my Last Wife friends who have been my inspiration and shared the journeys of Last Wives with me, thank you.

ODE TO A LAST WIFE

Oh, ye to thee
that’s number Three.
You are just another
in his she-tree!

Down can be lonely
when your love stalls,
And it hurts when others
rejoice in your fall.

If you think his love
is such a blast,
The day could come
when you won’t be his Last!

But being the Last
is much better than zero;
Love can conquer,
and He your hero.

Don’t let the numbers
scare you away;
You worry your head
some other day.

Yes, hope springs eternal
and life must go on,
As you get cozy
on your own little throne.

Being Third in a trilogy
Can bring out the best;
You smile like Madonna,
you pity the rest.

My sisters, be warned
of the ups and the downs.
Being Third in the household
can tarnish the crown.

Keep an eye on his switch-itch,
the potential’s alive;
His next Wife could be
number four or five.

If He swan dives into
the Next little nest,
You’ll move quietly aside
and make room for the rest.

But Tomorrow’s the Future,
and this is Today!
I’m ready, I’m happy,
and I’m here to stay.

PREFACE

I have always thought that books should be about big things, larger than life people, bold actions and ideas. Maybe that is why I have felt a lifelong inadequacy when writing about anything. Who am I to write a book? Nobody would want to read it, and if they did, they’d laugh at me and think,
What a waste of time!

While writing this book, I realized that I have been consistent throughout my entire life: that is, consistently, desperately lurching for approval. I have never been able to get enough approval, to the point of being angry when I did not get it. Words are inadequate for me to explain what I suffered when easily attained approval turned out to be beyond my grasp during my Cinderella journey. My Prince is good-looking. He is smart and successful. I really want his approval and that of everybody around him. (Oops, there I go again!) The more desperately I lurched, the less I got. Doesn’t seem fair, but who said life is fair?

Nevertheless, I hope you’ll be “in the moment” with me. Read my musings through the clenched jaw and throbbing headaches I suffered, and you will see a woman of 60 who was furious because she was no one’s Princess.

Above all, have hope and humor as you imagine yourself in these circumstances. Take heart, we’ve all been there at least once. Go back in your mind and revisit your thoughts and actions. Hopefully, you were and are wiser than I am, and handled yourself with much more skill. The good news for me is that I survived, and now I can thrive. But, yikes, I stepped in it often . . . hopefully you can be a better ballerina!

INTRODUCTION

Ah, love. A second chance. Oops, I mean third chance. Fourth? Well, who’s counting anyway?

Ah, love. How perfect! All you can think about is having someone to come home to at night. Someone who will wrap his arms around you and protect you from the outside world, singles bars, the boogey-man and crazy people. That special man who will hear your thoughts (after all, you
do
have wonderful thoughts!) and make all your dreams come true.

You can’t wait to tell your friends that you have found the One, can you? The world sees you in a different light now. You are headed down the aisle . . .

. . . Or is it a gauntlet?

It is likely that ever since the fateful night your eyes fixated on your Hunk of Burning Love, there have been numerous outbreaks of questions and concerns. Being a Last Wife, you know this is not His first rodeo. As you prepare to saddle up in your vintage Dale Evans fringe and ride off into the sunset with your cowboy, it is wise to know just how close the arrows are that are whizzing next to your scalp. Pull your sombrero closer to your ears, Amiga, this could be a wild ride!

To assume the coveted position of Last Wife, you will experience, at best, a mixed bag of comments with scattered compliments delivered by His menagerie of acquaintances and your well-meaning support groups. But beware, Besotted Beauty, of nefarious jabs piercing your newly formed love handles (acquired during your numerous love trysts). These pricks are likely the diabolical attempts of Camilla-like warfare on unwary Princess Diana—and they can hurt.

Thus, the purpose of this book, Cinderella, is to warn you that you will need your rubber galoshes as you walk in the sun holding his hand. Yes, the perfect day could end in a short, but torrential downpour and a maze of mud holes resembling the Everglades. Whether you choose to gingerly step over or around the sludge, or wade directly through the mire, it is best to prepare for the swamp.

You have entered the quagmire that a Last Wife often traverses in her celestial journey. The muddle can be quite offensive at times. However, keep in mind that mud is not all bad. It can also be a healing agent and a choice skin care product. Although you may feel soiled by the dirt that can cling to you during your courtship, just think how pure your skin will be upon peeling off the mud mask.

You might be dreaming of slinging your own retaliation pie. My advice is not to get stuck in the muck but to bask in the glow the mud afforded you! After all, Cinderella’s frock can be hand washed and look almost as good as new! And the rain boots—they are there to protect your crystal footwear.

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