Love…Me.

(*Totally stole this post idea from EMILY. In case you didn’t know…she is a GODDESS. No, really.  The nicest soul you will ever meet.  I want to be her when I grow up.)

* I have perfect non-plucked/waxed eyebrows.

* I have thin, but strong legs that look sexy in my new boots.

* I can bake a mean cake, cookie, cheesecake…whatever your sweet-tooth demands.

* In the past two years I have slowly expanded my circle of friends. While my BFF is still online, I have friends that I can go out for coffee or cupcakes with.

* I am good at crafting…and have several very unique pieces in my home because of it.

*~*~*~*~*

Sometimes you just have to reflect on what you love about yourself.  Since I really don’t like Valentine’s Day…I figured I’d take Emily’s lead and do this post.

Yes. I’m serious. I don’t like Valentine’s day. Ordered my hubs not to do a darn thing and meant it.

So, wherever you are. Whatever you’re doing. Enjoy your day.  Remember that no matter who is or isn’t in your life…there is always someone very important to love. YOURSELF.

Now tell me what you love about yourself!!  I want to know how beautiful you all are…and that you all know it!!

I’m Not Good At This.

Way back when this picture was taken I sure thought I was. (Picture credit goes to my mom who had the fancy camera way back then…in FILM *Gasp*)

Back, 11 years ago, when Brandon was only 2.  When I only had the one.  When my co-parent was my own parents.  When the biggest problem I dealt with was chronic BM issues (yeah, he’ll kill me if he ever reads this).  When he was cute and adorable and obedient and kind and polite.

When life was “easy”.

Now there are three.

There is school. Homework. Teachers. Doctors. Specialists. Special Medicines. Bills. Cleaning. THREE kids. Doctors.  THREE kids. Quirks. Hospitals. Marriage. Home repairs. Car maintenance. Cleaning. THREE kids.

Oh, did I repeat myself once or twice?  Yeah. I know.

I don’t want to use the term “bad mother”…because, you know…it’s such a debate trigger.

Sometimes, though.  Sometimes I look at myself and I see that I’m not good at this.

I don’t have patience.

I don’t have answers.

I don’t do the things that you’re supposed to.  I love to read to myself, but get bored reading to my kids (shameful, I know).

I don’t have patience.

I don’t check homework every day after school.

I always miss deadlines for snack week, permission slips, all those things.

I don’t have patience.

I don’t give my kids daily baths. Or every couple of days.  (But in my defense, my baths were 1x/week)

I use the TV as a babysitter.

I’m online too much (I’m trying to do better…some days I do better than others).

I don’t have patience.

…..

Are we detecting a common theme?

Sometimes I wonder what part of my brain actually thought growing up that I would grow into this ‘perfect’ mom.  I saw myself doing it all. Crafts, dinner, cleaning…the perfect little household.

My ‘perfect’ has redefined itself into something that feels far from perfect for me.

It’s a process.

I’m working on redefining myself as a mom.

To snap less. To breathe and have patience. To do more cleaning. More cooking. Making sure I’m more involved in what my kids are doing in school.

I want to feel like I’m good at being a mom. Like I DESERVE the title.  EVERY day. Not just now & then.

Feeling Beautiful (Flip Side 1/52)

This past weekend I got a haircut/color, and a new dress. I was feeling infinitely beautiful & so taking self-p’s was easier than usual:

Dead On
*I never do the whole ‘look right at the camera’ angle….
hair01

From behind
*Had to show the full 360 effect of the cut 😉
hair02

This is my angle…
More often than not
hair03

THE DRESS
I had no reason to buy it. I have nowhere to wear it. I was looking for something different when it caught my eye. I tried it on just because I liked the color. But when I put it on…I.Felt.Beautiful. I had to buy it. And I did. Now…I just need somewhere to wear it.
dress01

****  Head on over to check out who else is flipping out:

In HER Time…

We chopped her hair off.

She had us worried.

Terrified.

She wasn’t eating.

Her hair was so thin. She was getting weaker.

We chopped her hair off.

Now…

She’s eating like a champ. (Almost) Everything we put in front of her.

Figures.

My Other Worlds

I’m a lot of things every day.

A wife.

A mother.

A sister. A daughter.

Housekeeper.  Doctor. Therapist.  Advocate. Chef. Chauffeur.

But at night. The house gets quiet.

I turn on my music.

I open my word processor.

New worlds. New people. Mayhem. Romance.

It’s where I lose myself.

Where I vent frustration.

Where I find part of my bliss.

I’m a writer.