Before I became a mother none of these phrases would have come out of my mouth. Well, maybe like one or two but definitely not one a regular basis. Now I say this shit every day, usually multiple times a day. Sometimes when I hear myself I think “what the fuck happened to my life?” I’m sure you moms and dads out there can relate. Here are my weirdest:
I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m fine with that because I drink coffee anyway. I laugh too loud. I don’t understand boundaries, and I can be rather vulgar. With all that said, I believe everyone serves their purpose in this life.
I belong to one of those neighborhood websites, as I’m sure a lot of you do. Well since I’ve been reading, The life-changing magic of tidying up, by Marie Kondo (you have to read this) my house has been in a state of constant purge. We are also undergoing a decent size home renovation that is fueling the purge as well. So, I’ve been selling lots of stuff on my neighborhood website. It’s cool because I make a couple bucks, and have meet some of my awesome neighbors. It’s actually been a very pleasant experience, until yesterday.
I’m not new to internet trolls. Rude people with rude comments about just about everything. I expect them on my blog comments, thus approval process. I see them on Facebook and such. I never expected a troll on a sales post, but here she was.
Once again Christmas card season is upon us. I mean, can we call it a Christmas card? Do we have to call it a holiday card? I don’t know what to call it, but I do know I’m late. My social media feeds are already packed full of adorable family photos which will inevitably become Christmas cards. I have yet to even schedule a photo session. I’m just not into it this year. Usually my Christmas cards are my pride and joy. This year there is a good chance it might not even happen. Let me tell you why.
First of all, this year has been so cray! Every day it’s something. It’s dance class, pre-school, therapy, holiday parties, birthday parties, doctors’ appointments, grocery store, not to mention someone in this house is always sick. We are off of all official kid activities this week, and I’m trying desperately not to leave the house. The last damn thing I want to do is dress my family and drag them to a photo shoot. Also, my photo shoot joy was trampled by my husband this year.
I started this investigation for myself and after everything I found, I have to share. The fact of the matter is I don’t just want to be able to defend myself, my kids, and my home; I don’t want to ever be in the position where I have to. My goal is to get you guys protected, so you don’t have to defend.
A little backstory for this letter comes from a promise I made myself last year around this time. It sounds so cliche, but turning 30 used to really freak me out. Even two years ago I dreaded that number. 10 years ago I would have told you I’ll be lucky to even see 30. So last year on my 30th birthday I promised myself that 30 would be MY year. I was going to do everything that I had wanted to try, but was afraid to. I was going to make 30-year-old Sarah the best Sarah. In following through with this promise to myself, I had to do a lot of uncomfortable things. Reflect on my past self and really own the mistakes that hindered me from truly loving my present self. To say 365 days is enough time to accomplish all of that would be a lie. But, the first step is always the hardest, and self-reflection is a big bad jerk-off.
“To understand who you are; you have to understand who you’ve been.”
This is a piece I wrote for Eve the night before she had her “evaluation”. I write both girls letters on and off so they have them when they are older. I did not realize how scared I really was until I read this back to myself.
SlightlySarah 