The pictures of this post have nothing to do with it. Just randomness because that is the beauty in having a blog about nothing…and everything.
1. This week I bought my first Depends. Actually it was Poise. But an adult diaper is an adult diaper. I tried to lie to myself….telling myself that I was a hardcore surgeon that was about to be in the OR for twelve hours straight saving lives….or that I was an astronaut in the outer limits of space discovering an alternative fuel source on a foreign planet. The truth is…I can’t stop coughing and my pelvic floor muscles feel like an entire World Cup soccer team kicked me right in the….
2. I’m not a driven person. I have no desire to compete with people. I have no feelings that I need to prove myself or be something more or even be the thirteenth hundred best at anything. None. I don’t know where that comes from. Maybe my age. Now at the ripe age of thirty two, I am immune to criticism. I do however want others to feel like I love them. Because I do. But I don’t care if they think that I’m crazy…or stupid…or even a waste of breath….as long as they know they are loved by this crazy stupid waste of breath. It’s a weird place to be…
3. I’ve questioned my faith and little threads of it one point seven billion times. Every time…the same result…there is a God and He loves me. He wants me. The ultimate sacrifice rescued me from a forever of not being with my Love. It’s not that complicated…but then again…love is always the most complex thing in the world.
4. I have zero sense of time. None. Not an iota. Five minutes could pass and if you ask me how long has it been….I could say five hours…five seconds. Sometimes I forget what year it is…and what month….sometimes the day of the week. Ok, ok…most days of the week I have no idea what day it is and it takes me a solid thirty seconds to figure it out. I’ve always been like that. And Will has been late to preschool more often than not because of it.
5. I snap at my children. I don’t play on the floor enough. I let Weston eat food off the floor. I pray sometimes that naps last thirty minutes longer just so that I can mindlessly watch New Girl while eating junk that I don’t let my kids eat. I am often not the mom I want to be. And then sometimes I am. But sometimes I’m not. And I think that is probably what makes me a mom. I think that is probably normal.
6. Most movie stars just don’t do it for me. I don’t see the draw. I did have one celebrity crush that makes perfect sense to a seven year old. He could make a bomb out of pocket lint, lawn fertilizer and a paper clip. One time I wrote a story about him. I learned how to make a rope out of sheets so that I could run away and marry him. If you are a child of the 80’s you probably know who I mean…
7. I google the randomest, weirdest crap. On my phone currently are several open windows….how to hotwire a European car (I already know how to do domestics), gestational length of a wooly mammoth, how to give someone stitches, beat-boxing techniques, what cells are toenails made of, identical twins separated at birth how do they look now, and can I grow clam pearls at home. I Curious George the crap outta google. And yes, I just made that monkey a verb.