And there I go again…

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Often times when I can’t get to sleep, I find myself scrolling though headlines reading all kinds of things.

Jennifer Lawrence says something awesome… again.

Paula Patton and Robin Thicke seperate. Gee, that was a real surprise.

The GOP’s Sham Denunciation of Ted Nugent.

Yeah. All kinds of stuff – I read till my eyes cross and I think I can finally go to sleep. But then I find a headline that sparks something… what is that I feel deep in my chest? Oh, hell no, it’s my OPINION!

So, I decided after reading this article that sparked my opinion that I’d share it (gasp) on Facebook. If nothing else, it’s going to start a shit storm in the morning. Really, my first goal was to inspire some intelligent conversation about the article I shared, but I know how this is going down. Same way it always does on Facebook. I’m gonna piss a lot of people off sharing my opinion.

So, here’s to opinions… and perhaps a fair night’s sleep dreaming of ways to tell people how I refuse to apologize for having independent thoughts and opinions.

UPDATED:

Wow. Boy, was I ever surprised this morning… in the best way. Sharing that article actually DID inspire intelligent conversation, several of my friends shared with me how they are introducing religion to their children. It was refreshing. Amazing. And a welcome change.

It sure is great to see.

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Here kitty, kitty.

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I think it’s our side of town’s recycling pick-up… head out the door with a Kohl’s bag packed full.

Out the door and around the corner of the house. Something caught my eye… Ooooh! Here kitty, kitty…. one of a few strays I’ve been seeing off and on from behind the barn must have wandered out.

In with the recycling, drop the bin lid. Oh shit.

That kitty’s tail is straight up. Oh shit.

That’s not a cat.

 

Well, I was going to shower anyway.

And this is why I really need to wear my glasses at night.

 

Morning, you can kiss my booty.

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It is a well known fact that I am not a morning person. In fact, it is so well known that when I offer a morning appointment to my hair clients they often ask, “are you SURE, honey?” I freely admit my aversions to early AM… but I can say that I really rock 11am – 2pm.

This particular morning found me getting up on the wrong side of the bed, both figuratively and literally. Grumbling, I made my way downstairs to get the mini ready for school. As fate would have it, my husband has the week off due to the extreme weather and was trying to be helpful getting both his girls on the road. What did I greet that poor man with? A scowl, maybe a growl, as I stomped downstairs desperately seeking my much loved kitchen gadget, my french press coffee maker. Still growling under my breath, I realize I am even too grouchy to make any coffee… morning, you’re a hag.

Fortunately for all those who had to be around me, after dropping the mini off at preschool I made my way to get my morning jolt a.k.a. attitude adjustment. And, that’s when the day started to turn around… dramatically.

While having a lazy breakfast at the local Denny’s, I ran into a high school classmate I hadn’t seen in several years. The most wonderful thing about running into a friend like that is despite the length of time we’d not seen each other, we always pick right back up as if we’d seen one another yesterday. It certainly didn’t hurt me that this friend told me I looked fantastic (the scowl was fading). This friend has always been great at making me feel good about being me… and totally not in a creepy way. Well, most of the time.

And the day just kept getting better… I made a stop on my way to work for flowers. I used to go once a week to get my floral fix – something I did in lieu of smoking cigarettes. If you’ve been around me the past few months, you’d already know I continue to struggle with giving those little bastards up. As always, the manager of the flower shop set me up with a gorgeous bundle of fresh cut beauty. But, as I waited, they got a FedEx delivery… and as fate would have it, that delivery man was also a long-missed friend I hadn’t seen in years! I got a bear hug, caught up a bit, and another compliment. Really, these guys in my life sure know how to make a girl feel pretty. I think I’ll declare FedEx as my preferred shipper now…

So, morning can kiss my booty but mid afternoon gets an enthusiastic high-five.

Waiting Games

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Newborn wailing. Toddler having a breakdown, kicking screaming fit. Here I sit in the lovely surroundings of the OB/GYN office awaiting the annual “how ya doing” visit. I must say, the waiting room is providing enough birth control for me I may not have to ask her to refill my prescription.

Don’t get me wrong here, I like kids. I even like other people’s kids. Most of the time. But as I hear that sweet little newborn wail, I think to myself… ” No way, man. I ain’t do THAT again.” Yep, I said it. I love the kid I have, but the thought of starting over with another newborn not only terrifies me, but makes me physically ill to even think about.

I salute you, mothers of more than one child, for I know you are stronger than I am. I tip my hat at you frazzled mommies with more than one mini tagging along behind you. You’re a tougher kinda gal than me.

Eagerly, I make my way back to adorn the lovely “dress” and chat with my favorite person I see once a year. Usual chit-chat… how are you, any life changes, anything to ask about or discuss today? Then she asks “the question”… “So, do you think you and your husband are done? I mean, considering any more kids?”

Well, after I stopped laughing and informed her the mere thought makes me want to slit my wrists with a plastic butter knife, I think she understood completely. Then we have our discussion on my chosen methods of prevention (besides being in her waiting room).

This lady really did make my freaking day, though. Not only does she always have a special dress just for me, but this time she informed me that the lying hunk of metal I am forced to stand on upon first entry of the office has told her something wonderful… I’m eight pounds lighter than this time last year. Well. Yay me!

See folks, it don’t take much to make my day.

I am more.

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I’m finding there is something from a night out that seems to linger with me for days, even weeks sometimes. After a great night out with friends, there is something that remains. Like a flutter in my stomach reminding me of a moment. Something that keeps that feeling fresh in my mind – that wonderful feeling of confidence.

I walk a little taller. I dress a little better. Maybe I even smile more. I paint my fingernails.

This is why I need those nights out, those nights when I’m reminded I am more.

Triangles are my favorite shape

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They are. I don’t have any real explanation as to why. Always have I been drawn to them… in high school I often signed my artwork with three dots in the shape of a triangle, the mathematical symbol meaning “therefor”. I just love ’em.

A simple equilateral triangle, the Greek letter Delta, is a symbol of change. Change is good. Change is terrifying. Change is what makes life what it is. Change is necessary. We’re always changing.

I’m getting a tattoo. Of, you guessed it, a triangle. Or maybe three of them. I decided this recently, that I wanted an image that I could see daily to remind me of what’s important to me. I’ve been looking for a design for a bit now, but I think I’ve settled on three triangles – each altered to represent three specific actions.

Create

Express

Transform

A picture will likely pop up here soon seeing that I have an appointment this weekend to chat with my tattoo artist buddy. Meantime, I’m thinking this will be on the inside of my right wrist… always visible to me, always reminding me the things I hold most sacred in my heart.

Finding Myself

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I love being wife and mother, I do. But, here lately it has felt like those two roles have overshadowed the “me” I once was… the woman I remember. I am afraid to lose her. I feel in my heart I need frequent reminders that she’s still around, that I am more than Mom and wife.

On the other hand, when I do take some time away from it all, I often find myself feeling guilty. Guilty over missing something at home or that I’m allowing myself to have fun without them. Silly, I know. And this guilt complex I have seems to come and go when I decide to have a little “me time”.

I took some time for myself very recently – I went out for a fabulous, hilarious, fulfilling Girls Night Out with some of my closest girlfriends last weekend. We enjoyed a late dinner and lots of laughter while getting the dish on one of our groups newest romantic interests (she was one of the few single gals in our group). We headed to a local club to take in the sights and, as one of the girls said, “get wild!”

Well, wild was not to be had there. Not for me anyway. I did act a bit goofy and tried to enjoy it, but more than anything I was thinking I would rather be somewhere else. Not home, just not at that particular establishment. I had already let our group know I’d be heading back to my little town early since I had promised to make my appearance at a local bar who was hosting a band with members I knew from childhood. And, my brother threatened to be there… this I had to see. So, my partner in business (and shenanigans) drove us back to town.

Much to my delight, I get a message from the rest of the group: “We’re coming to meet you!” Made my night… in my comfort hangout, getting to have fun with my comfort people! I can’t even begin to recall some of the many things that made me laugh so hard that my face ached for the entire next day.

We danced, we laughed, we drank… but, best of all, we had fun. No one asked me where my husband was. No one called me mommy. I was “me” again. I was glorious, graceful, classy, happy, beautiful me again. And it was fucking fabulous. Every single minute of it.

And I do not feel guilty at all.