You May Say I’m A Dreamer

I’m generally content with myself. This makes a lot of people angry. It’s not that I don’t acknowledge my faults, trust me, I know what they are. I’m kind of a dork. I don’t like to clean. When I get hurt I complain more than the kids. I drink too much pop even though I know it’s bad for me. I never shut up about new things I’m trying. I can’t keep up with the Kardashians. I like the band Fun. I talk about myself too much. (Hello, blogger.) Possibly, one of my worst traits, at least in the eyes of some, is to be so damn content with myself in spite of all these confessions and more. Misery loves company. Trite because it’s true. I’ve been there. I’ve been wallowing in self pity, trying to invite others to my pity party, and I recognize it when I see it. That’s why most insults don’t bother me much anymore. I haven’t really developed the thick skin you’d expect being the youngest child and only girl. My brothers could probably still reduce me to tears by telling me someone paid my parents to take me away or that my hair is actually men’s butt hair and that’s why it doesn’t behave correctly when it’s wet. I’m getting a little teary eyed just thinking about it. I cried watching Special Agent Oso the other day because he was alone for the holidays. I’m soft.

I’m also content. I know my weaknesses and my strengths, my mistakes and my triumphs and at the end of each day I know that I’m okay. My home is stable. My house is cozy. My kids are safe. My van is still moving forward and so am I. Some people like me, some people hate me and enough people love me. Just the way I am.

Happy Holidays. May they find you content, and if not, may you find contentment within yourself.


A Disclaimer For Morons

*giant sigh*

*even bigger eyeroll*

I shouldn’t have to write this, but here I am, writing it.

I work with other people’s children Monday through Friday. I don’t really drink while they are napping. They don’t even all nap. Monster Princess is 4 so she reads stories or watches a movie while the little ones sleep. Sometimes she sleeps, but I do not take that opportunity to get “shitfaced drunk while watching babies.”

I do sometimes drink while caring for my own children and I don’t really care what anyone else thinks about that. I will say, if you don’t know the difference between “drinking” and “getting shitfaced” then perhaps you are the one with a drinking problem.

*in case you didn't notice the carbonation or color, that's POP

Me. Eight months pregnant with Sharkbaby.*

I can, in fact, go a whole day without drinking. I went 9 months without drinking. FOUR TIMES. That is 3 years of not drinking, in case your math is as ridiculous as your grammar. I’m a social drinker, usually, but sometimes when The Barkeep and I are sitting in the sun or just watching a movie together I choose to call that a social activity and I have a drink or two. I can do that because I am the mother and I decide who drinks what around my kids.

My secret is out. I’m not throwing keg parties in the addition while the kids nap. I’m cleaning the kitchen or sitting on my ass writing a blog, wishing I had a drink, not because of the kids so much as all the morons.

Naptime IS for drinking, but who has time for that? If you have kids you drink when you can or not at all and either one is cool with me. Just keep your cup sniffing snout out of my business. Thankyouverymuch.

* In case you did not notice the color or carbonation, it’s Diet Pepsi, not wine.