It Began Early On

All the way back to either Kindergarten or first grade I felt off. Like I was never the "right" one. Like I did NOT fit in. It felt to me like I was NEVER chosen by the teacher when questions were asked.

You could see the straining on my face, I sat as high as I could, my arm raised so far it almost went numb, yet I was never picked to answer a question. Or so it seemed.

Or if i was picked... I answered incorrectly. So disappointed in myself.

An excellent example is when I was in class and we were sitting in what is like circle time now. My teacher was holding something up asking questions and I was so eager, reaching so high with my hand. I just KNEW the RIGHT answer this time...But, yet again, I was not selected.

In my incomprehensible disillusionment I brought my arm and hand down with such force I stabbed my pencil into my other open palm and broke the tip off in my hand. OUCH!

This frustrated the teacher to NO end (who clearly I annoyed with my eagerness on a regular basis anyway) because she had to stop the class and administer first aid to the disruptive child (me).

I look back as I am writing this and wonder if she wasn't just a bitch who squelched my enthusiasm because she was angry or unhappy herself and just couldn't stand my delight and eagerness. Maybe she was overworked, underpaid or beat by her husband.

Or was I born with the incorrect chemicals and connections in my brain that made me feel like I wasn't picked enough, made me feel like I was wrong from the beginning?

...I still have that piece of lead in my palm to this day.

Wannabe Vegetarian

Fried Garbanzo Beans
Taiha Wagner of Just One Bite

Ingredients:
One can organic garbanzo beans
Organic cold pressed olive oil
Celtic sea salt
Black pepper

Directions:
Open and drain can of garbanzo beans. Dry off with paper towels.
Use a small fry pan and fill with enough olive oil to submerge garbanzo beans half way.
Heat olive oil on medium-high heat.
Carefully place beans in hot olive oil, turning once browned.
Once fully browned, remove from pan and place on paper towel.
Season with sea salt, black pepper and/or chili powder

These garbanzo beans are a tasty snack or a great addition to a hearty salad.

I Hate Wells fargo

Someone tried to break into our account. We went into a branch and opened a new account. We left a little $ in the old account to cover some outstanding checks and to last us for cash while we patiently waited for our NEW Credit / ATM cards in the mail (5 days was promised). I was also ASSURED my old ATM PIN will work. 8 days later I have no new card. 9th day I receive a new card. I try to use my new VISA ATM card at the Wells Fargo ATM as the sticker on my new card tells me to. IN ORDER TO ACTIVATE THIS CARD USE IT AT A WELL FARGO ATM. My PIN does NOT work. I call the number on the sticker (the same sticker that told me to use it at an ATM to activate it remember that the fucking guy at the wells fargo branch assured me my pin would work). I swear I am not angry even at this point I am laughing at the ridiculousness. I punch in my account number as on my card and it demands I tell it my checking account or savings account number. I DONT HAVE THESE I AM AT THE FUCKING ATM REMEMBER.

I hang up and call back to get a real person to activate my card. I patiently hold for 5 minutes. The woman on the line asks me my Social Security Number. I giver her this, my birthdate, my FULL name and my address, my husbands Social Security Number and his birthdate and she informs me....are you ready.....

SHE CANNOT ACTIVATE MY CARD UNLESS I CAN TELL HER THE EXACT DATE AND AMOUNT OF MY LAST AUTOMATIC DEPOSIT.

That whore.

So I said in my nicest voice "I am angry at you and I will not thank you because you did not help me at all, GOOD BYE"

It was like the good bye in Go Dogs Go.

For those of you who don't know me very well this is HUMONGOUS personal growth for me because I wanted to say this.... Look you dirty whore, I gave you everything but my blood type and a sex inventory from my past why the @$*& are you being such a frickin twat about this I mean really are you #&%$* stupid or just new at your job?

The Mess

The mess in my house is NOT a means of defining me
The mess in my house is inevitable
The mess in my house comes back 1 hour after I clean
The mess in my house is every where
The mess in my house does not reflect poorly on my parenting

The mess in my house does NOT mean I am stupid
The mess in my house does NOT mean I am lame
The mess in my house does NOT mean I am lazy
The mess in my house does NOT mean I am piggish

The mess in my house is organic

The mess in my house is because my kids play
The mess in my house is because they play often
The mess in my house is because they eat
The mess in my house is because they are free with their fun and food
(snacks only, meals are at table)
The mess in my house is because I am busy with the girls too busy to clean everyday
The mess in my house is because I am busy caring for me everyday
The mess in my house is because I love my family too much to clean all the time
The mess in my house is because we are off on adventures to playgrounds,
Sea World, the Zoo, play dates, finding bugs, rainbow walks *, riding bikes, scooters and rollerblades (ok most of those are with dad)

The mess in my house is just a mess it comes and goes and when I look back on their childhoods I don't want to remember a clean house I want to remember the smiles, the "mommy you are the greatest" the smell of sun on their skin, the smell of them after a bath, the chatter at the dinner table the screams at the pool.

So, please come over, have fun with us, don't judge me because my house is messy be happy for me for letting go in fact maybe be inspired by my letting go too. Don't think bad thoughts about me and my mess because me and my mess are starting to get along and I don't want to mess that up.