Last week we said goodbye to my husband's Papa. Oct. 2 will make three years since I last saw my sweet Mama Mary. As a child, I was fortunate enough to spend a lot of time with my grandparents and their siblings(my great aunts and uncles). As boring as it might seem for some kids and teens today, I absolutely LOVED listening to them reminisce of days gone by. It is one of my most favorite memories. The stories were so funny sometimes, but more than that, I just enjoyed that peacefulness of being surrounded by these sweet souls telling their life stories. So much better than any book or fairy tale I was ever read as a child. I have said goodbye to the majority of those people. My Papa Troy, Mama Mary, my Aunt Helen, Uncle Henry and Aunt Ethel, Aunt Edith, Aunt Eva, Aunt Doll, Uncle Larry, Aunt Cleo. I wonder if they even realized I was taking it all in? I wish I had wrote every story and recollection they shared down. I sometimes will remember a story I didn't even realize I had forgotten. They were special people to me and I never want to forget them or their stories.
While sitting at William's grandpa's house, I was once again surrounded by his grandmother, her siblings, and the sibling of his Papa's. I didn't realize just how much I missed those tales until we all sat there listening to them go back. I smiled and felt a familiar comfort. Leaving their house that night, a very troubling thought crossed my mind: We are missing ingredients.
The ingredients that made up my sweet grandparents, their siblings and, I found out that night, my hubby's grandparents as well. We joke about the "3 miles, up hill, in the snow" stories, the "I never had a problem deciding what to wear when I was a kid, I only had to pick from two things"stories and all the common stories we've all heard or joked about. The thing is, those are real. Those were really their stories. The picking cotton, wash tub bathing in front of the fire place, doing arithmetic by candle light, excited about getting fruit, and only fruit, for Christmas, walking to school where three to four grades were taught in the same room separated only by rows, warmed bricks wrapped in potato sacks under the covers to keep feet warm, dictionary was a subject, toys were foil boots on a cat, a rocking chair made by Pa, or a squeaky horse passed down from all 6 of your older siblings. We are missing ingredients.
There will NEVER be first hand stories like this again. I can't help but think that grandparents from here on out will not be as great as ours of this generation. What stories do they have that will compete. My mom will tell about what? That she played in the dirt outside instead of video games. I will tell my grand kids what? That I didn't have Internet until I was 11. Sure, we will have lived and learned, had our share of happy times, hard times, beautiful memories and maybe horrible tragedies as well. But what if the major ingredients are forever gone. Will Paisley ever sit in a room with her grandparents or with us and our siblings and be mesmerized by our stories. Will we, when we are older, have that same comforting presence about us? Will we be in our grand children's eyes, what our grandparents were in ours? Our parents are wonderful grandparents to Paisley. Love, time, and spoiling are the main components of what makes a grandparent I know...but I just wonder if the recipe will be missing something special, that little something extra.
I hope that our busy, sometimes cluttered, lives wont leave us missing those special ingredients. I hope it's just my special memories and overwhelming love that keep my grandparents on such a pedestal. I do hope we all have our own special sweet comfort to those that come after us<3 Our own special ingredient.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Proud daughter...of a TEEN mom.
No, I do not want my sweet 3 year old to be a mother in 12, 13, 14 years. She wont be ready. She will have to give up so much. She will miss out on so much. It could happen tho. I've always been told, and have seen first hand, you should never say "my child will never..." You just don't know.
I understand all the reasons why it's looked down on. I do. What I don't understand is, how making rude comments about teen moms in a generalized way, does anything positive...changes anything at all. So many times a teen mom will not be as responsible for their child(ren), they usually cant afford to fully take care of them without assistance, some put their responsibility off on others...and the list goes on. BUT, NOT all teen moms fall under this stereotype. Just like not all responsible(seemingly), older, well established, older parents fall under the "good parent" award category. I've seen teen moms run circles around mothers who would be considered, by most our standards, to be "ready" for motherhood. It's so hard not to make general statements, stereotypical statements...but we have to remember when we do, we just may be including in that, those that just don't belong.
My mom was 16 when I was born. Not only did she become a mom at 16, she became the mother of a child with a disability. At 16 she followed behind an ambulance that was taking her 3 day old in for surgery. Did she have help from family? Yes. Was she ready for all of that? Who really would be, 16 or 30?
What I do believe is, that while I do hate to see a young teenager get pregnant and become a parent at too early of an age, my teen mom what just the mom I needed. She and my dad did not have a college fund set up for me, they were not Mr. and Mrs. when they conceived me, they were no where near ready to start a family, they were still, in a way, kids themselves...all those things typically linked to teen parenthood...they possessed. So why do I think my teen mom was just the mom I needed? I can't imagine how my life would have turned out had I been born to older, financially stable, more responsible adults. My mom never missed an appt. Those all day, horrible, exhausting days of testing. Xrays, labs, EKG, monitors, therapy, etc,etc, etc. She was there. When I had surgery, I never remember one single time I ever closed my eyes with out her being the last person I saw...and I never remember opening my eyes and NOT seeing her there. I can remember her curling up in the hospital bed with me, rubbing my back, talking to me, tucking my hair behind my ears. I remember one surgery I had, I started crying and screaming when they were taking me back on the stretcher. I guess I was 6 maybe. I had my arms stretched out and was yelling for her and my dad. I can still see the look on her face. My dad standing there with his arm over her shoulder, and her waving at me, her other hand lightly on her lips with tears running down her face. My teen mom. The first surgery I remember having was when I was 5. I woke up and shortly after returning to my room, went into an absolute fit. I'm not sure where I get my memory of these things from...my Mama Mary could remember anything ...guess I get it from her:) I can hear the doctors saying I was hurting, scared, still confused from the anesthesia...that was not it at all tho. Guess who knew what was really wrong with me? Yep, my teen mom. They had matted my hair down before surgery. I am not sure with what, but when I reached up to twirl my hair in my fingers...It felt like my hair was gone. I must have been too upset to say what was wrong, because I didn't. It didn't, bc she knew. She insisted she or the nurses wash my hair immediately. I remember after, she took her fingers and ran them through my hair. She took my hand and placed it in my hair. When I think if this memory now, I think immediately of Paisley. How I can see her being totally upset for all the not so normal reasons. I was upset bc of my hair, not because I was in pain, scared bc I had been in surgery, none of the normal reasons...but my hair:)
I have stories for days. My mother had her faults, what mom doesn't. She may not have been ready for me, had a college degree, involved in a career, owned a home, had a savings account...but she was a MOM. She made mistakes, like we all do. She learned as she went, like we all do. Had I been born to a mother that was considered "ready" for a child...I'm not quiet so sure I'd be the person I am today. I was never sheltered, never allowed to use my chair as an excuse, never treated any differently than my sister. I never had an accessible shower, van, yard, room, house, nothing but a ramp. If I needed a cup, I climbed the counter and got one. If I needed a bath, I got in the tub and took one. If I wanted to play, I went outside and played. When we went anywhere, I got out of my chair, into the car and buckled up. Some may think, that's crazy. It's not crazy, it was perfect. I went to regular school, I sat in regular desks, I played on the playground, If I wanted to spend the night with a friend...I did bc I did not have to worry about their home being accessible..bc mine was not. I know so many children need all those things bc it is a necessity. But I did not. Had my parents been older I do think more emphasis would have been placed on making things "easier" for me. I'm glad I never had that "luxury". My home today has a ramp. My car has hand controls. I have a wheelchair. That is as far as my modifications go in my life. I do things differently, yes...but without any special accessibility equipment.
My point is, teen parenthood could have happened to sooooo many of us. If we had sex before we were married and while still a teen...it could have happened to any of us. There never is an across the board, "ready" parent. William and I were ready...but I can't tell you how overwhelmed I was even at 26, married, owning a home, etc. Not all teen moms are great moms, not all adults moms are great moms. Sometimes, age just really is insignificant. I am so thankful that I was the daughter of a teen mom. She is responsible for so much of my strength, character, personality...so much a part of that. I love my Independence, always have. I love that I was expected to clean my room just like sister, I had the same chores, the same expectations, the same punishments...equal.
So, before I ever look differently, or down on a teen mom...I stop and remember my AWESOME one! :)
I understand all the reasons why it's looked down on. I do. What I don't understand is, how making rude comments about teen moms in a generalized way, does anything positive...changes anything at all. So many times a teen mom will not be as responsible for their child(ren), they usually cant afford to fully take care of them without assistance, some put their responsibility off on others...and the list goes on. BUT, NOT all teen moms fall under this stereotype. Just like not all responsible(seemingly), older, well established, older parents fall under the "good parent" award category. I've seen teen moms run circles around mothers who would be considered, by most our standards, to be "ready" for motherhood. It's so hard not to make general statements, stereotypical statements...but we have to remember when we do, we just may be including in that, those that just don't belong.
My mom was 16 when I was born. Not only did she become a mom at 16, she became the mother of a child with a disability. At 16 she followed behind an ambulance that was taking her 3 day old in for surgery. Did she have help from family? Yes. Was she ready for all of that? Who really would be, 16 or 30?
What I do believe is, that while I do hate to see a young teenager get pregnant and become a parent at too early of an age, my teen mom what just the mom I needed. She and my dad did not have a college fund set up for me, they were not Mr. and Mrs. when they conceived me, they were no where near ready to start a family, they were still, in a way, kids themselves...all those things typically linked to teen parenthood...they possessed. So why do I think my teen mom was just the mom I needed? I can't imagine how my life would have turned out had I been born to older, financially stable, more responsible adults. My mom never missed an appt. Those all day, horrible, exhausting days of testing. Xrays, labs, EKG, monitors, therapy, etc,etc, etc. She was there. When I had surgery, I never remember one single time I ever closed my eyes with out her being the last person I saw...and I never remember opening my eyes and NOT seeing her there. I can remember her curling up in the hospital bed with me, rubbing my back, talking to me, tucking my hair behind my ears. I remember one surgery I had, I started crying and screaming when they were taking me back on the stretcher. I guess I was 6 maybe. I had my arms stretched out and was yelling for her and my dad. I can still see the look on her face. My dad standing there with his arm over her shoulder, and her waving at me, her other hand lightly on her lips with tears running down her face. My teen mom. The first surgery I remember having was when I was 5. I woke up and shortly after returning to my room, went into an absolute fit. I'm not sure where I get my memory of these things from...my Mama Mary could remember anything ...guess I get it from her:) I can hear the doctors saying I was hurting, scared, still confused from the anesthesia...that was not it at all tho. Guess who knew what was really wrong with me? Yep, my teen mom. They had matted my hair down before surgery. I am not sure with what, but when I reached up to twirl my hair in my fingers...It felt like my hair was gone. I must have been too upset to say what was wrong, because I didn't. It didn't, bc she knew. She insisted she or the nurses wash my hair immediately. I remember after, she took her fingers and ran them through my hair. She took my hand and placed it in my hair. When I think if this memory now, I think immediately of Paisley. How I can see her being totally upset for all the not so normal reasons. I was upset bc of my hair, not because I was in pain, scared bc I had been in surgery, none of the normal reasons...but my hair:)
I have stories for days. My mother had her faults, what mom doesn't. She may not have been ready for me, had a college degree, involved in a career, owned a home, had a savings account...but she was a MOM. She made mistakes, like we all do. She learned as she went, like we all do. Had I been born to a mother that was considered "ready" for a child...I'm not quiet so sure I'd be the person I am today. I was never sheltered, never allowed to use my chair as an excuse, never treated any differently than my sister. I never had an accessible shower, van, yard, room, house, nothing but a ramp. If I needed a cup, I climbed the counter and got one. If I needed a bath, I got in the tub and took one. If I wanted to play, I went outside and played. When we went anywhere, I got out of my chair, into the car and buckled up. Some may think, that's crazy. It's not crazy, it was perfect. I went to regular school, I sat in regular desks, I played on the playground, If I wanted to spend the night with a friend...I did bc I did not have to worry about their home being accessible..bc mine was not. I know so many children need all those things bc it is a necessity. But I did not. Had my parents been older I do think more emphasis would have been placed on making things "easier" for me. I'm glad I never had that "luxury". My home today has a ramp. My car has hand controls. I have a wheelchair. That is as far as my modifications go in my life. I do things differently, yes...but without any special accessibility equipment.
My point is, teen parenthood could have happened to sooooo many of us. If we had sex before we were married and while still a teen...it could have happened to any of us. There never is an across the board, "ready" parent. William and I were ready...but I can't tell you how overwhelmed I was even at 26, married, owning a home, etc. Not all teen moms are great moms, not all adults moms are great moms. Sometimes, age just really is insignificant. I am so thankful that I was the daughter of a teen mom. She is responsible for so much of my strength, character, personality...so much a part of that. I love my Independence, always have. I love that I was expected to clean my room just like sister, I had the same chores, the same expectations, the same punishments...equal.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
I'm my own little, original mix... of mimic.
I change my hair color, sometimes to colors not natural...pink...purple:) I love make-up. I love to wear it, change it up, try new things, new eye techniques, MAKEUP! It's been a while, but I do love getting my nails "did"...fake ones, that is. I love clothes. Clothes that are "in" and sometimes clothes that are "last season". I will buy a cheap pair of fake sunglasses in a minute...way faster than some crazy expensive pair for suuuuure. I wear perfume and paint my nails with glitter. I blow dry and straighten or curl my hair most any time I go out. I usually have earrings in that come close to touching my shoulders. My slouchy may be someone else's "dressed up". I prefer tshirts and flip flops LEAST. I own very few tshirts. I put sugar in my coffee and sugar in my tea. I do like being smaller(healthier) as opposed to heavier. I'm amplified. If it's fun, it's suuuuuuuuper fun to me. If I drop my keys while carrying groceries...that is the MOST angry I think I get. If my roof caved in, I'd prob be all "no problem". I am nice to everyone, even people I don't have much in common with or even like much for that matter. I open my mouth and say things I regret. Things I shouldn't even think much less say. I smile when I feel like crying. I cry over the most insignificant things;) I have bling in my lip. I'd like a tattoo... or two, eventually. All those things are a part of who I am, things I like, stuff I enjoy. They are all "fake" in a sense...right? Yep.
Am I always genuinely REAL? Nope. Most people that claim their "realness" are not much diff if they are really honest about it.
I am real enough to say that I am NOT always real.
What is real about me, is the stuff that matters. I may not be real good for some and I may be too good for others.
I really do try and smile so often it becomes habit. Is is fake sometimes? Yes. Someone may ask me out in public...a COMPLETE stranger, "What is wrong with you?" or "What happened to you?" "Oh and let's not forget-"You are too pretty to be in that chair." "How do you take care of a child?" "You can't walk but you still smile."(believe it or not, I actually don't think it's thaaaat bad down here) "YOU drive?" ... goodness, the list actually goes on lol! I smile at those comments and questions. Well, I try. Most the time I try and answer politely. I am rolling my eyes, shaking my head, and holding back a lot of choice words , inside, REALly tho. I have to remind myself that what may offend me, may not someone else. Words that may upset others, may not phase me. Sometimes people are ignorant and nosey...sometimes they seriously do mean no harm at all and may be some of the nicest people on Earth. So, I smile. Regardless how STUPID, inappropriate and disrespectful the comments and questions come across to me as, I try and smile. Is it fake sometimes? OH yes and yes and YESsss! Have I ever put my foot in my mouth, said the wrong things at the wrong time? Yep. So I try and cut some slack. Sometimes people that know me well, say the "wrong" things...but I know they care. I'd rather have people that care, and unintentionally say the wrong things than no one at all. Most people mean no harm in what they say.
Regardless if I smile when I am happy vs when I am annoyed, sad, angry, etc...it's still my smile. My choice of response to whatever someone says, whatever happens to me, whatever the situation. If I smile bc it's heart felt and automatic or if I smile bc it's forced...it's still real to me.
All my fake loves like nails, hair color, makeup, earrings, glitter, clothes, shoes, hair style etc...fake as they are, they are ME. They are things I like bc I like them. Fake as they are, they are small decorations of the real me.
My hobbies are the same hobbies shared my millions...doesn't make me less original. Not many things are really original anymore, they are just given personal touches. Most everything we do and create has been done before. Maybe a little differently, but no matter how original we try and be...we still are little mimics of others around us and others before us. What makes it real is that we own it. I own how I paint, how I dress, how I act and how I do me. I own it. It may be little mimics of people all around me, people that have came and went before me, but it's my own unique MIX of mimic. Nothing absolutely, 100% original...but a unique mix of mimic, of what's "already been done", a little fake and a little natural:)
I am a people pleas errr. Bad trait sometimes. I don't share the arguments I have with my husband to the world... or even a handful of people for that matter. I don't share all my dreams, I don't share all my failures, I don't share all my anger, I don't share all my bad days, some things I just choose not to share or broadcast.
I hide bad photos photos of myself. I try and forget my ungraceful moments. I put my talents on display proudly. On days I think I look my best, I may take a photo of myself. OK, not may...I do;) I boast about how sweet, loving and smart my little girl is and usually keep more quiet about her temper, tantrums, and how many times she has to go to time out any given day. I let the world know how helpful, loving, considerate, patient, and sweet my husband is. No one needs to be let in on the bad days. All relationships have those...but sharing the bad with the world only lets negative in. I am a firm believer in sharing positive, happy things. But I rarely let ugly out in the open. It's not putting on a front, it's being responsible with feelings, emotions and relationships. Some people are slow to share good, some slow to share bad. What really matters is those moments which we will want to look back on in a few days, months, years from now...what will really MATTER then. Will I care that Paisley spilled stuff on the floor all day, or will I most want to remember that time she wrapped her arms around me and said "I love you big as the sky!"? Will I want to be reminded of that time William didn't wash the dishes or left a mess after a project or will I want to look back with a smile on the time I came out of the bedroom to a wild flower sitting on our dinning room table in a plastic drinking cup? See, I just smiled so big thinking about that day<3
I am not always happy. I am not always perfect. My relationship has its faults. My parents get under my skin. My sister is completely opposite from me in so many ways. My child has the most horrible temper I've ever came across, I think she gets it from me;). My house is a mess some days and I absolutely go into a frenzy about it. The litter box gets out of control and my dog jumps on people bc she thinks she is 2lbs instead of 80lbs. My legs are usually more hairy than smooth. I wear paint covered, holey clothes more than my cute, over the top outfits. I pick William's boxer shorts up off the floor most every day of my life. My cat got fleas this year and has thrown up on my bed 3 times in the last month. I can't draw worth a poot. I am absolutely terrified to catch a ball. I have a big, ugly nose. One ear sticks out further than the other and one foot is half a shoe size bigger than the other. I am a total baby when I am sick. I am way bad with money. I am most always, always late. I say yes even when I am already overwhelmed. I love going overboard on everything. I buy Paisley way more than she needs. I read my bible so much less than I should. I don't go to church regularly. I hate not having the last word but I hate stirring up conflict. I am not always blunt and I don't always say what I really feel or mean. I talk about people sometimes before I even realize it. I love kids but I don't have a want to be around a lot of them and often. My family is a circus more times than a civil group of adults. I don't have a group of friends that all are mutual friends...they mostly are a mix of all different "types" of people and personalities. I am so last minute. I judge in others the same traits I possess at times. I have favorites when I shouldn't. I am a very bad visitor(I rarely visit family, they usually visit me)... and I could go on for dayyyyys. I have faults from here to next year.
I have learned you can't please everyone. No matter if you are Mother Teresa, you still will piss people off. (I say piss and I say bad words...but only around certain ppl. in fact, saying piss in this blog was really difficult for me). People will see you and call you out on being fake in every aspect they feel self conscious about in themselves. People will say you are following the crowd. I really hope the people that don't follow "the crowd" realize they are too following a crowd...the crowd that does not follow the crowd.(does that make sense? it does to me at least lol). I look at the things people do, say, like, buy, etc and think "they are trying to be like me." That's normal for us all I think. I was thinking about that the other day and thought to myself a few things:
Who cares if someone is trying to copying anything I do. Go for it. I wish you all the luck. I have enough confidence, or at least I should, in myself and all that I am and all that I do to not feel inferior or upset when any person finds they like something that I like. If it upsets me, that has more to do w me than them. I am sure millions disagree...but I agree with what I just said. I was not the first to do it, wear it, say it, think of it... so I can't expect to be the last right? We are all the same in so many ways, we are all different in so many ways. All my faults and all my bad days and all the faults of the ones I love...I am not any more real for sharing them, than sharing all my more happy, good, positives make me not real. I am aware that the happiest of people have bad days, and even if they are trying to make me feel less than they are...I am the one in control of the outcome of that. I have to remind myself that the most negative people, no matter how much they make me want to shake positive into them, are still good people. We get so caught up in who is doing what, who is accomplishing more, who is accomplishing less, who is fake, who is real, who is mean, who is nice, who is rich, who is poor, who has style, who has none, who is successful, and it's exhausting. We all act like we are in a race at times. We need to be less concerned with what people are doing unless we want to encourage them. Less concerned with what people have unless we want to give to them. less concerned with people's heartbreaks and lows unless we are wanting to be there for them. It has to begin with ME. I can't expect from others that which I am not myself. I have to become this person before I can expect anyone else to be that person. I am not perfect, I am so so so fake at times, I am to my core real more than not, I follow the crowd sometimes, sometimes I lead, sometimes I run from the crowd. I am not perfect and I do look at other's flaws, at times, to make me feel better about me. How long has that ever lasted for me tho. Not long. I have to stay so busy working on me, that I don't have time to analyze anyone else. I realize, more now than ever, how petty and childish WE ALL are as adults. I remember when I use to think adults were so in control. I was wrong. WE are more flawed than ever...I am more flawed than ever. I think sometimes we believe we are right because we are adults. Peace, love, harmony...all that kumbaya stuff is attainable to a certain extent...but not completely. We will always hate in some people, things we don't really mind in others. The people we love the most will baffle us more often than not. We will judge, we will be judged. We will gossip, we will be gossiped about. We will say the wrong things, we be told the wrong things. It's just how it is. What we have to do is hold ourselves to a higher accountability, work on ourselves more, than we do others. It's hard. My grandma always said the harder things in life are usually the right things. Holding your tongue, apologizing, admitting you are wrong, being the first to let go of anger, letting go. I know she was right. I wont always be the best friend, I wont always be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, PERSON...but I can try. So the next time I start to judge or find faults in others...I will try, try to look at myself first and maybe, just maybe, I will find the real reason I want to turn my attention away from myself.
Love,
Uniquely mimicking<3
Am I always genuinely REAL? Nope. Most people that claim their "realness" are not much diff if they are really honest about it.
I am real enough to say that I am NOT always real.
What is real about me, is the stuff that matters. I may not be real good for some and I may be too good for others.
I really do try and smile so often it becomes habit. Is is fake sometimes? Yes. Someone may ask me out in public...a COMPLETE stranger, "What is wrong with you?" or "What happened to you?" "Oh and let's not forget-"You are too pretty to be in that chair." "How do you take care of a child?" "You can't walk but you still smile."(believe it or not, I actually don't think it's thaaaat bad down here) "YOU drive?" ... goodness, the list actually goes on lol! I smile at those comments and questions. Well, I try. Most the time I try and answer politely. I am rolling my eyes, shaking my head, and holding back a lot of choice words , inside, REALly tho. I have to remind myself that what may offend me, may not someone else. Words that may upset others, may not phase me. Sometimes people are ignorant and nosey...sometimes they seriously do mean no harm at all and may be some of the nicest people on Earth. So, I smile. Regardless how STUPID, inappropriate and disrespectful the comments and questions come across to me as, I try and smile. Is it fake sometimes? OH yes and yes and YESsss! Have I ever put my foot in my mouth, said the wrong things at the wrong time? Yep. So I try and cut some slack. Sometimes people that know me well, say the "wrong" things...but I know they care. I'd rather have people that care, and unintentionally say the wrong things than no one at all. Most people mean no harm in what they say.
Regardless if I smile when I am happy vs when I am annoyed, sad, angry, etc...it's still my smile. My choice of response to whatever someone says, whatever happens to me, whatever the situation. If I smile bc it's heart felt and automatic or if I smile bc it's forced...it's still real to me.
All my fake loves like nails, hair color, makeup, earrings, glitter, clothes, shoes, hair style etc...fake as they are, they are ME. They are things I like bc I like them. Fake as they are, they are small decorations of the real me.
My hobbies are the same hobbies shared my millions...doesn't make me less original. Not many things are really original anymore, they are just given personal touches. Most everything we do and create has been done before. Maybe a little differently, but no matter how original we try and be...we still are little mimics of others around us and others before us. What makes it real is that we own it. I own how I paint, how I dress, how I act and how I do me. I own it. It may be little mimics of people all around me, people that have came and went before me, but it's my own unique MIX of mimic. Nothing absolutely, 100% original...but a unique mix of mimic, of what's "already been done", a little fake and a little natural:)
I am a people pleas errr. Bad trait sometimes. I don't share the arguments I have with my husband to the world... or even a handful of people for that matter. I don't share all my dreams, I don't share all my failures, I don't share all my anger, I don't share all my bad days, some things I just choose not to share or broadcast.
I hide bad photos photos of myself. I try and forget my ungraceful moments. I put my talents on display proudly. On days I think I look my best, I may take a photo of myself. OK, not may...I do;) I boast about how sweet, loving and smart my little girl is and usually keep more quiet about her temper, tantrums, and how many times she has to go to time out any given day. I let the world know how helpful, loving, considerate, patient, and sweet my husband is. No one needs to be let in on the bad days. All relationships have those...but sharing the bad with the world only lets negative in. I am a firm believer in sharing positive, happy things. But I rarely let ugly out in the open. It's not putting on a front, it's being responsible with feelings, emotions and relationships. Some people are slow to share good, some slow to share bad. What really matters is those moments which we will want to look back on in a few days, months, years from now...what will really MATTER then. Will I care that Paisley spilled stuff on the floor all day, or will I most want to remember that time she wrapped her arms around me and said "I love you big as the sky!"? Will I want to be reminded of that time William didn't wash the dishes or left a mess after a project or will I want to look back with a smile on the time I came out of the bedroom to a wild flower sitting on our dinning room table in a plastic drinking cup? See, I just smiled so big thinking about that day<3
I am not always happy. I am not always perfect. My relationship has its faults. My parents get under my skin. My sister is completely opposite from me in so many ways. My child has the most horrible temper I've ever came across, I think she gets it from me;). My house is a mess some days and I absolutely go into a frenzy about it. The litter box gets out of control and my dog jumps on people bc she thinks she is 2lbs instead of 80lbs. My legs are usually more hairy than smooth. I wear paint covered, holey clothes more than my cute, over the top outfits. I pick William's boxer shorts up off the floor most every day of my life. My cat got fleas this year and has thrown up on my bed 3 times in the last month. I can't draw worth a poot. I am absolutely terrified to catch a ball. I have a big, ugly nose. One ear sticks out further than the other and one foot is half a shoe size bigger than the other. I am a total baby when I am sick. I am way bad with money. I am most always, always late. I say yes even when I am already overwhelmed. I love going overboard on everything. I buy Paisley way more than she needs. I read my bible so much less than I should. I don't go to church regularly. I hate not having the last word but I hate stirring up conflict. I am not always blunt and I don't always say what I really feel or mean. I talk about people sometimes before I even realize it. I love kids but I don't have a want to be around a lot of them and often. My family is a circus more times than a civil group of adults. I don't have a group of friends that all are mutual friends...they mostly are a mix of all different "types" of people and personalities. I am so last minute. I judge in others the same traits I possess at times. I have favorites when I shouldn't. I am a very bad visitor(I rarely visit family, they usually visit me)... and I could go on for dayyyyys. I have faults from here to next year.
I have learned you can't please everyone. No matter if you are Mother Teresa, you still will piss people off. (I say piss and I say bad words...but only around certain ppl. in fact, saying piss in this blog was really difficult for me). People will see you and call you out on being fake in every aspect they feel self conscious about in themselves. People will say you are following the crowd. I really hope the people that don't follow "the crowd" realize they are too following a crowd...the crowd that does not follow the crowd.(does that make sense? it does to me at least lol). I look at the things people do, say, like, buy, etc and think "they are trying to be like me." That's normal for us all I think. I was thinking about that the other day and thought to myself a few things:
Who cares if someone is trying to copying anything I do. Go for it. I wish you all the luck. I have enough confidence, or at least I should, in myself and all that I am and all that I do to not feel inferior or upset when any person finds they like something that I like. If it upsets me, that has more to do w me than them. I am sure millions disagree...but I agree with what I just said. I was not the first to do it, wear it, say it, think of it... so I can't expect to be the last right? We are all the same in so many ways, we are all different in so many ways. All my faults and all my bad days and all the faults of the ones I love...I am not any more real for sharing them, than sharing all my more happy, good, positives make me not real. I am aware that the happiest of people have bad days, and even if they are trying to make me feel less than they are...I am the one in control of the outcome of that. I have to remind myself that the most negative people, no matter how much they make me want to shake positive into them, are still good people. We get so caught up in who is doing what, who is accomplishing more, who is accomplishing less, who is fake, who is real, who is mean, who is nice, who is rich, who is poor, who has style, who has none, who is successful, and it's exhausting. We all act like we are in a race at times. We need to be less concerned with what people are doing unless we want to encourage them. Less concerned with what people have unless we want to give to them. less concerned with people's heartbreaks and lows unless we are wanting to be there for them. It has to begin with ME. I can't expect from others that which I am not myself. I have to become this person before I can expect anyone else to be that person. I am not perfect, I am so so so fake at times, I am to my core real more than not, I follow the crowd sometimes, sometimes I lead, sometimes I run from the crowd. I am not perfect and I do look at other's flaws, at times, to make me feel better about me. How long has that ever lasted for me tho. Not long. I have to stay so busy working on me, that I don't have time to analyze anyone else. I realize, more now than ever, how petty and childish WE ALL are as adults. I remember when I use to think adults were so in control. I was wrong. WE are more flawed than ever...I am more flawed than ever. I think sometimes we believe we are right because we are adults. Peace, love, harmony...all that kumbaya stuff is attainable to a certain extent...but not completely. We will always hate in some people, things we don't really mind in others. The people we love the most will baffle us more often than not. We will judge, we will be judged. We will gossip, we will be gossiped about. We will say the wrong things, we be told the wrong things. It's just how it is. What we have to do is hold ourselves to a higher accountability, work on ourselves more, than we do others. It's hard. My grandma always said the harder things in life are usually the right things. Holding your tongue, apologizing, admitting you are wrong, being the first to let go of anger, letting go. I know she was right. I wont always be the best friend, I wont always be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, PERSON...but I can try. So the next time I start to judge or find faults in others...I will try, try to look at myself first and maybe, just maybe, I will find the real reason I want to turn my attention away from myself.
Love,
Uniquely mimicking<3
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