Last week was a struggle. Nothing was really wrong.... some frustrations, but not anything big. But, I found myself snippy and complaining and plain frustrated.
I read so many blog posts about how to be, how to keep it together and *keeping it real*
But, they all still seem too perfect still....
It isn't perfect here... but I am not going to show you what my messy house looks like... I am not going to give you the token messy shot. You want keeping it real... well, here it is.....
Sometimes I don't like deep, meaningful friendships...sometimes I want someone who will obsess over what color I need to paint the back of my secretary. Maybe someone to drool over a celeb crush. Or someone that doesn't want to analyze every. little. thing. Shallowness.... nothing wrong with it.
I don't watch the news... I am not up to date with world happenings. The news depresses me. I don't want to hear horrific things... I don't want to shut my eyes and see death and dying. But, when I read about a sick child or animal, I feel it. In my bones. I cry with you. But, do I want to hear horrific stories? No, I don't.
I don't want to read "bettering" books. Because, deep down, I really like myself. Maybe not the extra pounds I want to lose or my frizzy hair. But, my personality with all its flaws, I like it. I know it.
I like that I know how to read a story just right to my little boy. And, I like that I have excellent taste on music (or so I think.) And, I like my style. I enjoy going overboard for birthday parties and such. For my baby and for us, because you know what... maybe the Mr. and I will only get one 2nd birthday.
And, I like that I don't wear socks that match.
I am just materialistic enough to like things like little blue boxes and designer bags but know that those things aren't essential and can live without them and still be happy.
And, I wear perfume sometimes that I think smells good even though my husband doesn't care for it and my bff loathes it. My sister loves it and says it is me.
I can't tell you when my monster last ate a veggie (except for guacamole.)
I don't need to have a girl's night out. I know that I am okay without one. That maybe my therapy and let looseness involves picking up a paintbrush and painting a chair my favorite shade of green.
I am almost 32 years old (eek) and I know myself well enough to know what I need and what is important.
And, sometimes that is reading Owl Babies several times a day instead of cleaning the blasted shower.
I truly would give up my right to vote if it meant staying at home with my baby. Girls, I am not a women's lib type of lady... I am not a go-getter CEO type.
And, you know what? I like myself enough to even name a piece of furniture after myself.
Silly as it may seem... this chair is me.
Green, not red,
Black and white
Vintage and modern
So, while I hope you like her (and me)
I like her (and me)
Perfectly imperfect, unshaven legs and all.
Bye for now!