Inspired by one of my fave bloggers – Ashley @ LMM , who has been talking about secrets lately in her corner of blog-dom…
Secrets -- everybody has 'em. Sometimes it's good to let them out because once you say it out loud, it might spur you on to offer that apology, stop that bad habit, take a leap toward that dream, or get out of that situation. So, in the interest of full partial disclosure {What? Did you think I was going to fully open my personal Pandora's Box? Nah, I'm just going to crack the lid a bit.} here are some of my secrets:
1)
I I wear my jeans more than once without washing them. {I HATE those tight, uncomfortable, 'poured-in' feeling hours between the time jeans come out of the dryer and when they finally crack under all the pressure ease into a more 'relaxed' fit.}
2) I would give my {put any non-vital organ name here} to be in a book club. Yeah, I'm a nerd that way. I love to read. I love to talk. I love to argue and discuss. I would be a book club natural! {So which one of you is going to start a book club with me? Come on, any takers?} Plus, who thinks a Saturday afternoon that includes chatting, coffee, snacks, and adult conversation doesn't sound like a teensy slice of heaven?
3) I get a tad anxious freak out about spending money on large purchases and HATE putting things on a credit card. In fact, I refuse to have any. I cut up all of mine {and all but one of BabyDaddy's - I spared the one he uses for his business.} I had to hand over some of our financials to BD because watching perfectly normal and necessary spending {like, um, groceries— *blush*} stack up each month made me physically ill and BD got tired of my psychotic panic sessions when things were just fine. Money scares me to death. We REALLY need to move into a bigger house, {it's totally time – it's BEEN time for a while now} but I am dragging my heels and offering excuse after excuse {TOTALLY making things up along the way} to BD about putting our home on the market in order to drag it out so that I don't have to deal with it. Even though I know we will make a smart financial decision and ask for a million opinions from our families before we get CLOSE to signing on the dotted line, simply the idea of all the zero's involved in purchasing another home makes me feel like I'm going to hurl.
4 The majority of the time that BabyDaddy isn't at home, I will LITERALLY not do one iota of housework. I will play with the kids, and then after putting them to bed, read or catch up on TV to my heart's content. I will let the trash overflow, throw my dishes onto the already existing pile in the sink, and ya'll already KNOW how I feel about some laundry. {Obviously, this is no secret to BabyDaddy, as he calmly and patiently cleans up after me when he comes home. Seriously, how did I end up with such a man?! *Squeal*}
5) I don't make time for girlfriends. I have some really awesome ones too. They deserve for me to be a wonderful, considerate, thoughtful, PRESENT friend. But I am HORRIBLE about friendship maintenance and these relationships usually chug along because of their efforts, not mine. I am super jealous of my mom, who has this ultra-tight group of high school besties that do things together at least once a month. They are RIDICULOUSLY close – they laugh together, brag about their kids/grandkids together, support each other, and protect each other. To be fair, all of them are empty-nesters – no hyper toddlers or infants to be found. BUT, that shouldn't keep me from making time to spend with my friends. Heck, most of them have kids anyway, and the ones that don't have their own love my kids like their own , so it shouldn't matter. Sometimes I think I put friend activities off because I feel like we have to do something BIG and SCHEDULED. When in reality, just about any time spent together – even if you're just letting your kids blow off steam at the park, or shopping at Wal-Mart – is good time.
6) I want to lose weight, but I don't want to actually do anything about it. I hate physical exertion. I despise sweating. I abhor taking up precious free time with something I don't love when there are plenty of things I DO love {reading, playing with kids, crafting, vegging on the couch with BD and the TV} that I could be doing instead. I look at my post-baby body and feel like screaming at it. So much for the metabolism of my youth, eh? I know changes won't come unless I make the effort – and I will never be happy with my body again if I don't stop being such a lazy-pants couch potato queen. Plus I love to eat. CARBS – BEAUTIFUL CARBS…pasta, bread, cereals, sauces…..Yum. THAT certainly doesn't help matters either.
7 I worry constantly about being a good mom. Am I pushing too hard? Not hard enough? Should Mini-Man be able to write his name now? Should I panic because he hates even attempting to write anything? Is he eating too much frozen pizza? {What the heck is IN frozen pizza anyway? That crap can't be good for anyone…} Am I a bad mom for not letting Sunshine cry-it-out at night? Am I hindering her development because she can't "self-sooth"? Will she be scarred forever because I'm not forcing her to drink from a sippy yet? What will my kids say about me when they grow up and are asked about their childhood? I could keep going you know….
8 I know BabyDaddy's passwords. And I snoop his stuff. Like, a lot. But to be fair, he knows my passwords too. And to be even more fair, I'm WAY better than I was a few years ago. I now refrain from questioning him about every flipping person that sends him a friend request on Facebook. I honestly just like to get on his FB now and then so I can find trash stay up to date on people that I know but don't have on my friends list. {Riiiiight.} And I only look at his text messages every other day occasionally. It sort of helps that BD is a pretty stand-up guy {bless him} and has never once given me anything legitimate to question him about. :)
9)
I I am scared to death of dying. No pun intended. Many of those who are of the evangelical Christian persuasion, of which I am, have the view that one should look forward to death, even long for it {in a purely un-suicidal way – ya'll know what I'm talking about here} so that we can go to heaven to be with our Father. Do I wanna go to heaven? Yep! Do I wanna go like, right now? Ummmm, not so much. Sometimes, well, a LOT of times I feel like that makes me a bad Christian. But I want to be HERE. On crappy, mangey, dysfunctional, polluted Earth. I want to be with my kids and my husband and my family. And I don't want any of them to die either. I think if my little brother hadn't passed away so young, it wouldn't bother me as much. "That kind of tragic stuff just happens to other people", the me of before-he-died thought. Then he died. Just like that, he was gone. And it made me realize that just like that it could be any of the people I love. It could be me. And then after Grampa died last year {there is no word big enough for how I felt about him—Adored? Loved beyond measure?} it sort of threw me under the bus. I found myself having nightmares about dying. About those close to me dying. It's gotten better – after multiple pep talks and "What Will Be Will Be" speeches from my Momma, but I still have to keep it in check. If I let myself start thinking about that sort of thing, I'll be a basket case in five shakes of a dog's tail.
So, what's the moral of the story?
Looking back over everything, I think it's to:
get the nerve together to find some book club mamas, calm down about finances and realize that money can be a good thing just as easily as a bad thing, set up a play/coffee/gossip session with my girlfriends {and call those that live away from me}, make it a point to do at least one 'domestically necessary' chore a day, start really enjoying my kids while raising them in a healthy, loving home {and knowing that's what counts}, and stop wasting time worrying and live every day with no regrets.
{I have absolutely NO intentions of doing anything about the jeans or lurking on BDs Facebook page. Those are purely for my own personal enjoyment....and a gal's gotta get her kicks somewhere right? }
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