I have a couple confessions to make. First, we are almost two weeks into the new year and I haven’t been sticking to my resolutions already! Ugh! I really wanted to make myself start asking for what I need, for what I want, and I’m not going to lie to you, I have been kind of a chicken shit about it. I think we have established a safe space here, so we need to be real with each other. I am, however, going to keep pushing myself, and if you have not stuck to your resolutions yet either, do the same!
My other resolution was to start whole 30 with my friend Amber. We have definitely failed at starting that, but Monday is going to be our day! I will keep you posted how that goes, and I am going to ask for your help right now to keep pushing me to do this. Looking back over my posts, I see that I talk a lot about my lack of confidence in myself and I worry a lot about my weight. It is something that, unfortunately, the older we get, the harder it gets to either maintain our bodies, or lose what stress, life, and our kids have put on. I mean my youngest is 10 and I catch myself referring to my baby weight which is admittedly delusional on my end.
My other confession, aside from my inability to commit to a resolution, is this idea I have been struggling with lately. I feel like I’m embarking into a little bit of a mid life crisis, and not in a “I need to buy myself or sports car” sort of way, but in a “why do I still feel like I don’t know what the Fuck I’m DOING” kind of way. Let me bring you on my mental break down journey.
Lately, I just find myself constantly thinking about how I looked at my parents when I was my kids age. They seemed to have all the answers and know exactly what they were doing. I never felt a moment of hesitation from them. I never remember my mom telling me to ask my father, or pretend to have an emergency bathroom situation to dodge addressing a situation that she wasn’t sure how to handle.
When I reached 35 I thought there would be a special middle aged fairy that would give me a book with all the answers. All the answers for my life, and for how to raise the kids. She would fly up to me, hand me the book, and say, “Good job champ. I appreciate the struggle, but here you go. Here is the answer to how to handle your shit with grace, poise, and intelligence. Don’t share this with any of your younger friends, but you are now in the Knowledgeable Bithches Club.” But of course that isn’t real life, and of course Katie I would sneak you the book.
Realistically some amazing fairy who resembled Christie Brinkley would not come through my window and hand me the book of life, I DO understand that, but I did think I would be at a place where I wouldn’t giggle and get totally distracted when someone told me about a “nut pod”. I also really thought I would know how to parent my kids better. There are SO many decisions from; “do I get my son vaccinated with the HPV shot?” “What punishment is really going to get through to my daughter to make her stop having meltdowns that make her seem like a toddler?” “My son just told me he doesn’t believe in Santa Clause, I feel like he just punched me in the gut, am I allowed to be mad, or should I give him an introduction into the complex feelings of a woman’s psyche, thank him for sharing, and then make him the dinner he hates just so I get to send him to bed early when he refuses to eat it.” Take that for shattering my Santa magic and trying to convince myself that you are still a child. Okay, stop judging me, I didn’t do that, in THAT particular situation. Hey, I am admitting to you I am ill-equipped here!
So that it, that is my Friday night confession friends. I hope I am not alone, and there are other comrades out there that are feeling like their life is a bit like a house of cards where one stiff breeze could knock it all down. Remember we are all human and we are in this together! That is what keeps life fun; sharing my struggles with you, and my friends, and the fact I’m giggling while I’m typing over the word stiff. Hee hee.