Can I be real for a minute? I mean like, really real? I just need to take this moment in cyber space to stop time and purge all the thoughts that were rolling around in my head this morning. I practically wrote this thing already on the way to work. That’s kind of how the love/hate relationship of “inspiration” and I roll. It’s not like texting and driving or anything, so don’t freak out on me. It’s just there. On the tip of the tongue. So, here we go.
The last time I checked this was December, right? I remember throwing out in to the blogosphere way back in October that OCTOBER was my “feel crazy” time of year. I had some good hits off of that one and a lot of site traffic. So much so that I just reposted my 2015 words instead of writing a new one for 2016. I mean, why not? But, here we are. And it’s December. And I’m chasing my tail again. So for all of you moms out there who have yet to even sit down and online order your kids’ Christmas via Amazon Prime – and probably won’t until well into late next week –well, this one is for you.
Did you know that I forgot to sign my kid’s Tuesday folder to turn in today? No, let me clarify. I forgot to even look for his Tuesday folder in his backpack. You see, at my school we send home folders on Tuesdays with all pertinent information, graded papers, yada yada. I harp on my students all the time to have theirs signed and returned every darn week. So, how does this happen? How do I have it so engrained in my brain that it is an important turn of events for my students, but completely fall off the turnip truck for my own kid? I literally brain dump most things I tell my students when I step foot inside the door at home. Alas, perfection escapes me.
Speaking of kids, can we stop for a minute and wallow around in how ungrateful they can be sometimes? Lately, I’ve been encouraging mine to do chores and stressing the importance of responsibilities. This is especially important, I think, for my 9 year old. Kids these days need to know that the world has not and will never cater to your every need. I was raised to believe that if you want it, you better be ready to work for it. Listen up, I tried REAL hard to push those babies out of the birth canal before being sedated and sliced in half for c-section deliveries. And they’re over here crying about helping with the litter box and dishes? For serious?! It gives me a little bit of seasonal rage.
The irony of getting ready this morning did not escape me either. While listening to a podcast on paleo lifestyle I was also downing an entire tin of homemade fudge that was off the chain. I mean, when a kid brings it in as a Christmas gift and the card says to share it with your whole family – do they think that really happens? I do not share. Fudge and morning quiet make-up time is sacred. The rage of my sins, however, doesn’t set in until I’m halfway to work and driving behind an F150 proudly displaying an “ultra runner” bumper sticker. These are the crazy people who run 50 to 100 mile races. Like, really? Do people really do that? I was pretty proud of my half marathon last year. So much so that I think I faceplanted after passing the finish line and haven’t gotten back up since. That’s kind of what I do. I get real gung ho for a while and then I peace out. I mean, I’d run 50 miles MAYBE if a herd of velociraptors were chasing me. Otherwise, you can forget it. I have fudge to eat and bullet points on why a healthy no carb. diet is changing my life to listen to on my iPhone.
Can we talk about winter sickness for a minute, too? ‘Tis the season for runny noses and impromptu vomiting in the classroom. So, yeah… that’s fun. Me? I will go to work and continue on with whatever needs done, even when my fever is 102 and I’m dying. Because, well… because we women just need to do things. MEN… let’s talk about men for a minute. And little boys who grow up to be men. If I can successfully run a classroom on death’s door, why is it that men lie on the couch wearing their biggest hoodie ever, tied tightly around their faces? All they can do is lie there and breathe. I don’t get it. Moms of boys, what can we do to prevent this gene from spreading? I am totally serious right now.
If the holidays and this crazy season are a means of stress for you as well, then NA-MA-STE. Cheers. Huzzah. You are all my people. Let’s raise a glass. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the little things and remember to smell the roses once in a while. Today was just a day that the snark needed to come out. My last words of wisdom are this: I can promise you that playing your fastest paced house techno rage-workout music in your mini-van on the way to work will not get you there any faster when you are running behind. You might feel hardcore on the way, but I can assure you, that is NOT how any of this works. Keep your saunter casual.
Happiest of holidays to you all.