Getting Real

Angel over at Voice of Adventure just posted this challenge on her blog:

The truth is I am SICK, SICK, SICK of people feeling all alone because they think everyone else is less screwed up than them. It’s ridiculous. We all have our times we are flying high and our times we are doing a nose dive. Why do we all pretend? It’s all a pack of lies wrapped in a bunch of arrogance. So I am going to give it my best shot and TRY to get real on this blog. This is a get real zone. No bull allowed.

I love it! Alright, I’m taking the challenge. For your Schaudenfraude pleasure, here is me, getting real:

I am online entirely too much, blogging or reading other people’s blogs. I’m often sitting in front of the tv while I’m blogging. I hate this image of myself.

I do the “stuff and hide”. If someone is coming over, I frantically hide messes in drawers, closets, and corners to try and pretend like I live a clutter-free existence.

If I found a Skittle on the floor of my car from a few weeks ago, I would probably eat it.

I am a horrible pastor’s wife. I used to see Mark get approached for help, or prayer, or just a chat from a well-meaning congregant, and I would keep walking and pretend I didn’t know him. I have done this at church and in Target on a number of occasions.

When I go running, I listen to music that is very naughty. I know it is inappropriate, and yet I find it helps me run faster. If someone knows the Christian equivalent to Rage Against the Machine, Snoop Dog, or Jay-Z, I am all ears. (and if you mention Audio Adrenaline or DC Talk you are permanantly banned from my blog).

I often wear the same outfit several days in a row, if it has no visible stains and I’ve deduced that I won’t see the same people that I saw the day before.

I don’t wear socks. EVER. It makes my shoes smell really bad.

Mark criticized the way I folded his clothes in 1997. I have never done his laundry since.

I am terrible at budgeting. Mark and I are great with the macro-finances (investing, no credit cards, etc) but horrible at the micro-finances. At any given time, I have no idea what is in our bank account. I don’t balance my checkbook and we are usually dipping into our overdraft protection.

I pretend to be philisophically opposed to homeschooling, but in truth, I think it’s probably a good thing. I just don’t want to do it.

I would be truly happy to have 25-30% less time with my children, and look forward to the day when they go to kindergarten and I get some solo time back. I often feel guilty because we tried so hard to have children, only to feel like we want a break from them.

I get drained being around people. I hate this about myself. I am an introvert desperately trying to be an extrovert.

I wear heeled shoes that really hurt my feet, because they make my short legs look longer. I am frequently in pain due to my shoes.

Every 28 days, on the dot, I have a meltdown about my son’s energy level and whine about how demanding and hard he is. My husband pointed out this embarrassing product of my PMS.

If I didn’t pay Rosie to clean my house once a week, I think I would be living in filth.

Sometimes I think I continue working just so I can have something that forces me to wear “grown-up clothes” twice a week.

I do about a gazillion things as a mom that I judged other people for doing before I had kids.

Every time I watch a broadway show, I regret not pursuing musical theater. I still get audition notices and keep my headshot updated, as if I’m gonna get back in the game at any minute. Right.

I am crazy about my dental hygiene. I have left events early because there was something stuck in my teeth and I needed to go home and floss.

I refuse to get a minivan because I think it will make me look lame. Yeah, I am really that shallow.

Swimsuit Shopping

Mark and I are going on a cruise this weekend, for our 12th anniversary. I am determined to buy a new, cute swimsuit that I feel comfortable in. Here is the tally for the search so far:

Hours spent shopping: 8+

Money spent on babysitting so I can shop without kids underfoot: $45

Amount of money I’m willing to spend on the right suit: whatever it takes

Stores I have been in: 22

Miracle Suits that actually perform a miracle: 0

Stores that carried ONLY triangle-top bikinis: 9
(thanks for nothing, PacSun, Huntington Surf & Sport, Beach Bums, Roxie, Billabong, Tilly’s, No Fear, Active R/S, and Ron Jon’s. I will take my post-baby body and unlimited budget somewhere else )

Barthing suits I have tried on: 37

Suits I have purchased: 0

Fun with Hand-Me-Downs

India has been blessed with lots of amazing hand-me-downs. The one I put on her today was kinda funny. It is a Hawaiian print halter top (cropped) that ties in the back with a big bow. It has matching gaucho pants and both are trimmed in eyelet lace. I can’t decide if it is totally cute, or really tacky. I think she’s rockin’ it, but I also think it could be obnoxious.

Mark said the same thing when he came home and saw her. He took one look and said, “wow, um, what’s up with this outfit?”

“I know!! Is it adorable or horrible?” I asked him.

“It’s both,” he said. “It’s a-horrible.”

Now I feel compelled to say, if you are the person who gave her this outfit, and it was your child’s favorite, WE LOVE IT. We would never want to bite the hand of a gifthorse in the mouth. Or whatever the appropriate saying is here.

The Voracious Reader

I accidentally left a board book in India’s crib last night. This morning, I woke up to find her in the crib, nibbling away. She had already eaten through three pages. She loves her some cardboard.

Mark’s take:

“I wouldn’t say she is as avid a reader as her mommy, but she does devour her books”.

India on Percussion


Now it’s India’s turn. She shows a lot of promise until her noisemakers get tangled up.