Yesterday’s post was largely influenced by a link I saw on Twitter… and such is the case with this post. It’s a brand new world… a brand new world… Twitter, what are you doing to us???
But on to my fugliness. The Bloggess tweeted a link to this post - one in which she is featured. Hurry - go look…
***whistling***
You see that thar first picture? At first, I thought it was me. I was all, “How’d that person get my picture???” My husband walked by my computer and saw the picture and asked, “Is that you?” And I was all, “I! Know!”
So, since I am never one to pass up an opportunity to poke fun at my own self (or others for that matter)… I am going to join in on The Fuglies found on Papa TV. Except, in this picture, ya’ll get a two-fer! Not only am I in the picture, but my dear, dear lifelong friend is in it too! Since I posted this photo in an earlier post, I decided not to ask her permission to use her likeness. Jen, we lived it together sister… Besides, you look WAY less fuggly than I do! Here we are, circa 1980 - give or take…
Jen and me (She’s on the left… the goof with the glasses on the right? Me!). We are happily posing in my front yard. We’re so cool, just hangin’ out in the early 80’s in da hood. Jen just has the trademark haircut. But I have the terry cloth jumper (look at those racing stripes on the side!), big teeth, and glasses I’d push higher onto my nose by smiling. Thank goodness I have that headband on, or… I don’t even know. Do you see the bike in the background? Jen and I rode everywhere on our bikes. Golly, we were so cool. I can barely stand it.
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In other news… I also wrote earlier this week about how my Mother-Cords short circuited and… I just lost it all over mah yunguns. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. So many of you commented and assured me I did not completely ruin the lives of my spawn. I am far enough removed from that difficult morning, and can see that you were right. I even have proof! Two days ago Cole gave me this:
I have kept it at my desk since. There are no fangs on this Mommy… I am not foaming at the mouth… nor are my eyes firey red… I am wearing a lovely long dress with puffy sleeves, and my hands even look like flowers. Each time I look at it I either cry or tear up a touch. I love my kids so much. When I choose to lose it as I did, I feel I deserve children who shut-down and detach, but they just keep loving. *Sigh* I just wish I could keep my s*** together when they go totally nutso. This was not how imagined being “Mommy” would be. However, I won’t stop trying to handle the intense moments better. I know that any one time won’t hurtle my children’s future into a path of pain and suffering and serial-murdering, but I want my kids to have better memories of their mom… I want my kids to know there are limits and I will set fair, but high expectations. I also just want to be a soft place to land. That’s what a Mom is for! Ya know… “Don’t mess with Mom, she means business… but I know I can go to her for anything. Anything.” Each day is a new one… and I am ever grateful for the chance to grow.
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