Snow Angel

Not Me Monday is one of my favorite blog topics for a number of reasons. What a great chance to be absolutely real and to relax into this crazy dance of life, parenthood and relationships. The burden in the Mothering world to always be perfect is very suffocating.

Its like going out to a fancy dinner wearing your skinniest jeans, barely breathing or moving all night. Thinking only about how amazing it will feel to get home, peel off those ridiculous jeans and let all your mommy muffin-top hang out in some big ol' sweats.

Not Me Monday is a pair of big ol'comfy sweats to me. Even though a week may go by that I think, wow, I don't think much happened this week to write about. If I just sit with that thought for a moment or two, flashes of the past week and all the 'oops' and 'oh shits' come flooding back. It is absolutely freeing to not only laugh about them, but to also share them with you, my Faithful Few, knowing that you are identifying and laughing too.

This week seemed to be the epic battle of the wills between The Child and I. I feel tense now, just thinking about it. There seems to be only a certain amount of time that your child can "talk back" and yell "NO!" to everything you say, before you as a human being (with feelings) begin crumbling. All I want as a Mom is to have him respond "Ok, Mommy."

Really, is that so hard to ask for?

Even if he didn't do what I wanted, to at least have him obey with his words would be so validating.

During such epic battle this past week, it seemed I desperately required a time of retreat (can we say "Quiet Time"?!?!) Unfortunately, The Child decided that Quiet Time would be his opportunity to create the most damage. To secretly plan his next move of attack. At one point I walked into his room during Quiet Time to discover him on the floor (he's supposed to be in bed, with books) with his lamp, that was turned on, NOT stuffing it full of kleenexes.

Apparently he planned to burn the entire house down.

A small amount of time later I heard more interesting noises coming from his room, and decided it would be wise to sneak up on the enemy. I opened the door to not find him on the floor again with his lamp, this time it was smashed into a bazillion, razor sharp pieces.

Oh Goodness!!!

I tried so hard to NOT think about what could, would, should have happened if I hadn't walked in at that exact moment. I'm thinking he did not pull the lamp cord, causing it to fall and smash against the side of his bed. I did not then proceed to scold him for a very long time while cleaning up the glass. Part of me was not extra sad to say goodbye to the lamp that he's had since before he was born. I did not find myself just a bit extra mad or frustrated as this whole thing was going down in his room, I was trying to nap. What kind of mother would nap when she knew her child was awake? Not me!

I did not put him in time out and tell him to not move until I came back. During said time-out I would never take a shower, making his time in the chair not around the 25min mark. Nope, not me!

Since this week was one of epic battles, I was not looking so forward to a double-date night with our neighbors on Saturday. Minutes before the babysitter was scheduled to arrive I did not notice how disgusting my toilets were. It was like my eyes were opened to what the outside world would see.... a brown, disgusting film.

EW.

It was not me madly scrubbing all three toilets in the house, scolding myself for not noticing sooner and how could I possibly be out of toilet cleaner, too? Nope, not me!

All I Want for Christmas.....

...Is to be able to pull out of my driveway, onto the street.

It only takes 3 or 4 neighborly men, 2 snow blowers, and a shovel to get the job done.

*Yes. I am the kind of woman who supports her man from inside the warm, cozy house.

The kind of woman who takes pictures through the front window to avoid the bitter wind and snow.

That's true love, I tell ya!

Bootylicious

The few years that I spent in a public high-school, I was never allowed to attend the dances. At the time I felt much like the odd one out, but thankfully my friends never held it against me and I was never ousted. But there is a deep need in every person to dance. Even when you think you are unable to bust a move, and are incapable of keeping a beat, you still will try... especially when you think know one is looking. Those moments are so perfect as you are being completely, wholly, truly yourself.

Since I was deprived of this venue as a teenager, I have made up for it quite a bit as an adult. Ok, yes I was allowed, encouraged guilted to dance in church. But really... you just can't 'get down' and shake your groove thang when your trying so hard to abstain from any appearance of evil. It is a completely different type of dancing you do in church, a good kind, a random shuffling of the feet, waving of the hands, and maybe some jumping or leaping. But sometimes a girl's just gotta get down. Feel the beat and shake her booootay.

All this to say.... I love going dancing. Blast that Brittany and Beyonce and let me work it out. I am not looking for anything else but a good beat with some great girlfriends and a fun night of breaking it down.

Although, I have encountered some weird things in this world of dark, sticky, sweaty, groovin' clubs. Most of those weird, yet absolutely hilarious, things come in the form of people, boys to be exact. Do you love to people watch? Hit the club. Its the best thing since Walmart.

This past weekend I took a little road trip to celebrate a dear friends birthday. After dinner, drinks and some fooseball we decided to do a little dance dance dance. The club we were at had a great atmosphere with a wide variety of people. Those kind are my favorite as they will always hold a random experience or two... and some fairly bizarre people.

Like the dude behind us who thought he was on top of the world as he played the "Air Bass Guitar" the entire night long. He probably could be a great bass player, if he actually had a guitar. You know all the ladies come a runnin' when you break out the air instruments.

Or the random dude (sporting a creepy mustache in support of 'Movember') who ran his hand through the back of my hair, then walked by and told me I have beautiful hair. Uhhhhhmmmm.... ok.

My favorite are the girls who've had just enough drinks to let go of just enough inhibitions and lose all sense of personal space. Yes. I love how you dance with your elbow banging me in the back of the head.

But then who am I to judge as I may or may not have broke out into the "Running Man" and other various old school rap dance moves (circa Fresh Prince of Belair) at some point in the evening. Like I said, sometimes a girl's just gotta break it down.