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I have it really good.

But that doesn’t mean I have it easy.

Does anyone have it easy? I mean really now. Life is a struggle. There is probably a very small, hmm, can we call them the 1% of people, who have few worries. If you relate your worries to your finances I guess.

I figure, if you are a loving, warm blooded human- you have worries or problems.

Here is why I have it good. And yes, I’m an appreciative type so I will focus on the positive for now. ‘Bout damn time I stop complaining about PMS and cellulite anyway.

  • I am a stay at home mom. Yep, I said it. Proud of it too. I ADMIRE WOMAN WHO WORK AT PAYING JOBS TOO! so there. I am just happy in MY shoes. Don’t judge me for not ‘working’. That’s bullshit. I work all the time. I volunteer too. Which is working for free. So that means, I do two jobs and don’t get paid. I raise my kids and I volunteer. Bam.
  • My husband is a good man. He really is. I give him crap. He can’t load or unload the dishwasher or put his socks away. But God bless him, he works hard for his family and puts us FIRST. Which in my book, is what makes a man a man. He loves us, even if he has shitty communication skills. He trusts me. He let’s me be me. He lets me have fun with girlfriends, blog about shit, fill our home with beauty products and copious amounts of tea. I love tea. He doesn’t give me a hard time for going vegan-ish. He even secretly is trying it himself.
  • My kids are healthy. Gee whiz. I can’t say enough how this makes me feel warm fuzzy and guilty as hell all at the same time. Yeah, I know. I’m pretty effed up to feel guilty about healthy children. But between the friends I know whose children have suffered through cancer or the families I know with Asperger’s and Autism, I feel like I dodged a bullet somehow. Now, if that cannon were to fire in my direction one day, I would maybe change my tune. But I really appreciate my children and all the milestones they’ve accomplished.
  • I have great friends. I have great ‘real’ friends and great ‘virtual’ friends. I’ll explain. I have girlfriends that I have known for years, have been there for the births of my children, my wedding, my ugly shoe phase in college, my bed rest during pregnancies, my children’s baptisms, at the bus stop to be there when I couldn’t, for carpooling, for birthdays, coffee dates, dinner dates… the list goes on. I also have friends who I have never met in my life. They see me only through my blog and my Facebook blog page. They give me accolades and validation that I feel I don’t deserve sometimes. But I always appreciate it and drink it in. Because it feels so damn good to get appreciated!
  • I have complete use of my faculties. Okay, this might not last forever, and except for the slight tinkle when I laugh, sneeze or jump on a trampoline- I am so grateful to be upright and functioning!! I am not 600 pounds lying in a bed for a forklift to take me to the doctor. I do not need a wheelchair or a speak n spell device like Stephen Hawking to communicate. I can go for a run. Play with my kids. Dance a spaz dance to LMFAO. Cuz you know I do!
  • I don’t have to go to a well for water. Gosh darn if I don’t complain about chores on a daily basis. And wouldn’t it be grand if the cat would just poop in the toilet instead of the litter box? But really? I have machines that do most of the work. Water comes magically out of a faucet. The washing machine beats and spins my clothes until they are clean. All I have to do is fold them. Although, by the length of time they sit in laundry baskets in the hall way, you would think that was the hardest task in the world.
  • I have freakin’ Amazon Fresh delivering groceries to my door! Yes- people. I can sit in my $100 Lululemon yoga pants and buy organic kale at my computer and it comes the next morning. The beauty of the USA people!

Now let’s not get all mistaken by this sunshine and unicorn post. There’s shitty shit going on in the world. Even in my neighborhood. I buy supplies for needy kids at my son’s school. There’s a frickin’ SWAT team in my city today, actually because some asshole shot at someone in a home. This ain’t Beverly Hills folks!

But I’m going to smell the roses, AND the freshly ground espresso. I’m going to try and be happy that I CAN cook dinner for my family because I have the food and the appliances to do so. (although sometimes that shit gets so old…)

Yep. That’s my Mr. Rogers post for you today. Won’t you be my neighbor? Remember, he always sang- “It’s such a good feeling, to know you’re alive…” Sing it my friends!

Dear McSweetie

Oh, that is the cute name I call my dear husband. He’s like McDreamy on Grey’s Anatomy, but he’s mine and even cuter than Patrick Dempsey. Which is hard to be, cuz that Patrick is FINE.

When I get the urge to write something like this, I pretty much drop everything and do it. Not always do I feel like a warm and devoted housewife. Often I feel like a cold-hearted bitch with a bone to pick. And by bone, I mean big ol’ fish to fry, burr in my craw, chip on my shoulder the size of Lisa Rinna’s top lip. SOO, I am in a good mood and was thinking fondly of the ol’ ball and chain. So I thought I would dedicate this little ditty to him.

Dear McSweetie-

It’s been 15 years that we have been married come this August. I can’t believe how time flies. And although you are not perfect by any means. And by ‘not perfect’, I mean, have no clue how to empty the dishwasher or load it.  You pretend you still don’t know where stuff goes in the cupboards even though we’ve lived here ten years, and things haven’t changed really- at all. You don’t know how to put your dirty socks IN the clothes hamper. You can’t seem to get your beard and neck hairs out of the sink or away from MY toothbrush. You seem to miss the garbage can while clipping your toenails. BUT- even with ALL those little flaws, I thank you for putting up with MY flaws.

Yes- shocker. I have them. You know this, but THEY might not know this. (THEY, are my blog readers honey, pretend we have an audience.) Okay- so here goes. Thank you for not picking on me for the following:

Wearing socks to bed every night of the year (even in summer except when it’s reallllly hot, like 85 degrees or something). Remember my orange socks of our early wedded years? I should’ve kept those. They were so thick and cozy. And orange.

Wearing the rattiest, saggiest pajamas to bed every night. I can’t sleep in the nude OR one of the various Victoria Secret nighties you’ve bought for me over the years. Sorry those only see day light when I bring them with us if you and I go away for an outing overnight that involves a hotel. Hotel nooky = sassy night gowns. Wearing that at home would mean that I would have to go through the trouble of changing out of them before morning came. Because getting the kids ready for school in satin and lace is just gross and weird. And itchy. So I’m not going to even bother. PJs it is. Sorry.

Wearing the same pair of lounge pants three days in a row  and not wearing any makeup despite the Sephora store that is practically our bathroom. Geesh, I’m lazy.

Never mentioning that my legs feel like a cactus since I haven’t shaved since September.

Not complaining over the bajillion products and lotion bottles that cover our bathroom counter top.

Having to see my lady bits when I birthed our children. I know you asked not to be down there. Cuz being ‘down there’ when they’re conceived is really different than when those watermelons are coming down the pike. There’s poop, there’s goo, there’s tearing.  Oh lawd, even I didn’t look when they offered the mirror. So I’m sorry. That must’ve been real hard for you. I’m also sorry I didn’t let you play with my milk jugs after the babies were born. I know I must’ve resembled someone out of Hustler magazine, but considering my boobs felt like flesh that had been twisted in a vice that was so sensitive even air hurt when it touched them- you didn’t have a chance.

Thank you for letting me complain how messy the garage is, but not saying anything to me about how ransacked the pantry looks.

Not complaining when I’ve been home all day, didn’t make dinner, and then ask you to pick something up.

You give me the remote.

Pretending that you don’t realize how many shoes and purses I actually have.

And who would have thought, the kids call you the 'goofy one'!

That’s all I can think of for now.  I’m sure I will add to this list soon. Despite the fact my flaws are so few and far between

xoxo

Love,

Hot babe

(okay, that isn’t what he calls me, I just think it’s what he thinks of me)

The present. I keep waiting for it to be gift wrapped.

If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present. -Lao Tzu

I usually post with frivolity or rants. I’m not one to wane all philosophical. And can I just say, those Easterners have a corner stone on the inspirational posts. Must be all the zen-ness. Ghandi, the Dali Lama, Confucius…

This quote made me think of The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. A beloved book of mine growing up. When I would read it to my kids, I would cry at the end. As much as you like it as a child, you never realize it’s importance until you are a grown up. You need to live  the years of maybe some regret, some lack of perspective. Some selfishness. To realize opportunities that passed you by. To realize people maybe you didn’t appreciate as much as you should have.

So today, I will enjoy the present. I’m going to enjoy it even if it comes in a Target plastic bag or a paper lunch sack. Not all presents come wrapped like Martha Stewart demonstrating the beauty of paper made from pressed wild flowers. Maybe the present is wrapped in the Sunday Comics section. I like to imagine it in a Cartier ring box. But that’s okay. Sometimes it’s just a ratty old gift bag Aunt Edna has re-gifted many times over.

However your present comes to you today, make the most of it.

“The clock is running. Make the most of today. Time waits for no man. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why it is called the present.” ~Alice Morse Earl