Lay it on me. Would someone please help me out here. When did I become that girl?
You know the one.
When did I become the person who can't so much as MAKE a scrapbook page that doesn't scream I work for Mrs. Grossman. (who by the way, might be a lovely person who makes great brownies, but her scrapbook skills leave alot to be desired). I've printed photos, I've purchased new supplies, I've channeled my inner Garden Girl, I've hung out with scrapbookers who make Art out of crap, and still I've got nothing. Sure, I've got cardstock, with cute children attached, awaiting the proper placement of embellishments and stampage, I've even gotten so far as to distress the edges a bit, making it look as if I have a clue as to what I'm doing. but it's a falsehood. There's nothing worth gazing at here.
When did I get too big to fit into my size 12 jeans! I mean, sure, I can bust out the bungee cords, attach them to each side of my pants, meld the fat that sits around my middle like a grouping of moss on a toadstool, and stop breathing for 7-12 seconds while I release the bungee cords and hope for the best. All the while making it look as if I'm smuggling sausages in my belly region. I can pull that look off, but hotness? It's all but gone.
When did I become the mom who has 15 pictures of her kids in the past 3 months! 15. And those were all taken yesterday. I drug them outside in a single file line, and attempted to make them look as if they weren't wearing clothes dug out of the dirty clothes hamper, while their hair sported the messy buns gone
terribly awry.
When did I become old enough to be the mom of not one, but 2 children in school. I can't freaking believe that in less than 2 weeks 2 Akers children will be walking the halls of the local elementary school. 2 of my kids will be terrorizing public school grounds during lunch time, and 2 of my children will require ridiculous amounts of hand sanitizer and lysol wipes that I am sure will cost me as much as a tank of gas in my gas guzzling vehicle. It's not real. It's not right. But it's reality. Mikey has already informed me that in 11 short years he'll be leaving for college, and he hopes I'm ready. Ready? Dude. I've got my iMac post it note counting down the days until all of you are happily boarding the bus to a college that you've gotten a scholarship to, or who is willing to offer a family discount to parents with more than one child in attendance. I jest. Of course. I love the darlings. And will more than likely shed tears at the idea of them leaving the nest for good, I'm just happy to have them out of the nest for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, so that mama bird can get some of the garbage piling up in her happy abode, out of here. Who am I kidding. They love school just as much as I do. I'm that mom. So sue me.
When did Aubree get her ears pierced? Ok. I know the answer to that one. It was yesterday, and she was so brave, and so ready, and so willing to wait until her 5th birthday to have them, and finally, I got my stuff together, and took not one, but 4 kids to the mall, (where I might remind you THEY DON'T ISSUE SHOPPING CARTS) and stood there cheering on my little trooper while she got her diamonds on. She had a moment of weakness, where her eyes looked as if they were going to tear up, and the women manning the ear piercing guns were like, "She's so pretty..." Yeah. That's all it took. She pulled out this smile, and happily forwent the tears for some much needed compliments courtesy of perfect strangers. She loves her diamonds. It might make me a bad mom, but so help me, I'm not telling her they arn't real.
When is my life going to STOP taking me for a ride that I am soo not ready for. When will the answers to the questions I so desperately need answers to, fall into my lap from the center of the newspaper that I don't read. When is that happening? I wake up every morning in my bed full of children who are usually wearing far less clothing than they started out in, most of them are sleeping on some part of me, and I'm typically searching for a spot that doesn't currently have smallish parts residing on it, and I think. Is this my life? Do I really wake up everyday and clean for a dad, who seems not only not to care, but almost takes it for granted? Do I really fight my sleep loving green bean eating sister over who gets to use the car everyday, only to lose and end up depressed and shoving prepackaged eggrolls into my mouth in hopes of quelling the idea that I still have 7 more months of this? Are there really bears breaking into my garage to eat my garbage on a nightly basis? Oh yes. That too is happening.
When did living in the wilderness become a feat involving bear sitings
on a daily basis? I kid you not. We've happened upon a bear in our
yard, for the past week. Moose, I can deal with. THIS big dude,
grumbling past my door, tends to freak me out a little...
When is Mia going to actually get up off her cute little sausage legs, and start walking? Do you recall when we played this game with Charity 2 years ago? She was 14 months old, and still content on walking around on all fours like Mowgli child from The Jungle book? Mia won't even get on all fours. She's more than happy to raise her chubby little fists to the sky and scream out for someone, anyone really, to carry her to her desired location, a location which usually involves food. We actually secured this happy grin by dangling a piece of pizza over her head. She truly is the blood of my blood.
Of course, what's a photo of all the kids, without one of the big man himself... Yes it's red. Yes. It's hair dye. Yes it's washable. And yes. I'm completely prepared for the repercussions of posting such a photo. Bring it on. Isn't he cute though? Seriously people.
I think I know when. It's when I lost my mom. That's pretty much WHEN. My life went down the crapper. I still think about the fact that she taught me so much and I'm who I am (mostly) I can't blame some of my faults on her, heaven knows she's not deserving of that, but the good in me, the things I can speak of without bowing my head in shame, are the things she gave to me. I know eventually, losing her will be less of a blow to me, and more of something I look back on and think how lucky I was to have her for 26 amazing years, and how much she did for me, that I can in turn do for my own kids. I know that day will come. It's just not here yet.
I meant to be a better blogger. I mean to be a better mom. I meant to be a better friend. I meant to be a better housewife. I meant to be a better dieter ah heck, no I didn't. I hate dieting. I'll never be a good dieter. I meant to be so much more than I have been lately. And really, if you take away the past 4 months, I haven't done too bad. There are so many things to be happy about. My sister had her baby a few weeks ago... lost all the weight she gained in a matter of minutes, and of course looks like she could run a marathon 24 minutes after squeezing it out, but she did awesome, and her baby is adorable.
All the hair. Just think of the streaks I could give her? Ha. Jokes. I got em. Anyways. Life's great. I'm here. you're there. Things will get better. They have to get better. And when they do, I'll write about it.
Don't forget me. I won't forget you. and maybe. Just maybe. I'll make it through all this, with my humor still intact, and tell you all about it.
I bet you can't wait.