What I’m most thankful for right now is that Maddie is ok.
What I’m second most thankful for? Elmo.
Can you imagine taking your child to Jr. High in this? No? You can imagine the mocking, the horrible, painful, insulting words flung openly at your vulnerable pre-pubescent teen and saying, “nobody will notice.”
Yea, right they’ll notice.
Our house is getting an inspection on Tuesday. I am horrified. I have that feeling of “oh, god, they’re going to mock! The gutters! The yard! The
dead rats! The roof, oh god the roof. Oohhhhh, theeeeee rooooooof.”
I am not sleeping at night thinking about how we will ever afford to leave. I am searching google for the cost of housing supplies instead of grading exams, making dinner or being a good mommy and changing poopy diapers before they leak. I’m obsessing over the bathroom and the toilet and the counter tops circa 1962. The oven. Oh, the original oven and stove top. The electrical issues. Are there any?
What if nobody ever wants our house? What if I have to take it to prom because nobody else will and the poor thing will just start to fold inward and the self loathing will take over. What if it’s never moving out, even when it’s 35 and drinking starting at 10am?
I. Can’t. Watch.
As a result, I’m starting the binkitini.
God help us all.
Is pregnancy as contageous online as the cold is?
Charla’s baby arrived! Y’all go tell her congrats!
Now, that reminds me of something…
Sorry, y’all, but I can’t give too many more details. I’m not exactly superstitious (ok, a little), but when messing with things of karmic proportions (karmic is now a word), I don’t want to chance it (and yes I’ll stop using parentheses soon.)
If I’m not around to your blogs for a little bit, it’s only because I’m in the midsts of some things but know I love you and your blogs and please, oh please don’t feel abandoned and poop in the garage when we leave for the weekend.
Now, since you have time and all, please go check out Jane’s insanely talented knitting! The girl is the best. She made me these:
And, lest I degrade the power of the flip-flops with my pasty white, not-ready-for-Spring feet, here they are on me, the model:
(I told you I’d stop using parantheses. I lied)
Have you ever had a dream, something you’ve wanted for some time now, something you’ve been working toward for so long you began to get comfortable with the dream state? Did you ever start to LIKE that it was a dream? A goal? The “when we do this” became “if we do this” and then “we can still, if we want to, but if we don’t, it’s ok”?
We have. We are. We do.
Sometimes I feel it’s hard to be set apart. I feel as if I’m just another average girl in an average house with her average Target clothing and her average hairdo and her average little life. I’m trying to find something I can excel at, something that I can do and feel good about.
I know! I tell myself, I’ll start my own web design company! But who DOESN’T have a web design company? Also, think I’m overwhelmed now? Yea. I can’t even remember to bill the four people I do hosting for as it is.
Oh! Oh! What about getting published! I wanna be published! I might as well line up in the heard o’ sheep waiting to be discovered by some publisher that will like her shit just as it is, without all the editing or rejection that would make me crawl under my bed and cry for three days shoving ten year old Twinkies down my gullet.
So, here I am back at the crux of my identity crisis. Am I just a big fish in a little pond? Am I a big fish in jeans so tight it causes stomach cramps? Am I trying to be someone I’m not? Am I pursuing too many distractions to prevent me from feeling the hurt and pain from my post partum hormones which are wrecking havoc on my poor lil’ mind?
Am I shutting the world out? Or figuring out how to be open?
That, my friends, is why I played the Euphonium in high school.
What? You say. What the hell is a Euphonium? It’s a small tuba that plays an octave higher and there are roughly four people in the world who know how to play it. Alright, I jest. But truly, as a sixth grade junior high schooler, all the girls wanted to play the flute or the clarinet. Not me. I had to play the Euphonium because that, see, that’s different. I would always be first chair because I would be the ONLY chair. Or I’d only have to beat out Skippy, the large pot smoking guy who barely remembered his real name, let alone carry a tune.
In life, I’m the same way. I pick the thing nobody else wants to do and I do it. And I do it well. I do it so well that people notice me. “Hey! She can teach the old people! She’s good at it!” Who wouldn’t be? A little patience, some spicey conversation and viola! Old people come from the caves to learn how to email their grandkids and tell your boss you MUST BE PROMOTED. There will be nobody to take your place, though. Nobody else wants the job. So you plug on, being the best damn old person computer teacher ever.
The thing about my little life is that I have several friends, good ones, I feel so in touch with. We will be talking, say something, and I’ll think, “my god, that’s me! it’s ME!” or I’ll read a blog and giggle with delight that I’ve found a soul sister. I’m happy to have people I have things in common with. I am, thrilled, actually.
I’ve decided I truly have to do things for myself. Truly. I have to not feel bad about it, not see it as selfishness, not be afraid to get off my ass and go to bed on time. I have to take the risk of achieving some dreams and letting go of others. I have to put myself in a place that I can appreciate what I have now, be looking ahead to the future, but not berate myself for not standing out enough.
It means I no longer play the Euphonium but that’s ok. I can still be me.
Here y’all go! ENJOY! (and check because it’s possible that YOU are featured in this one) muhahaha
Please. Bring. Chocolate.
Toddler. Is. Teething.
Turning. Two. Too. Soon.
Elmo may become my new lover, that is if you’re like me and find giving mommy three minutes to poop totally attractive.
14 guests here now.