I'm not fat....I'm textured

So somewhere over discussing health issues and getting older with my bestie, I decided to start working out.  I may have been under the influence of something unbeknownest to me, because anyone who knows me, knows I don't work out.  I'm 32 and besides a couple month stint in the gym after my second child (which did not make much of a difference) I have never worked out.  I'm not the girl worried about her caloric intake.  I don't even own a scale! The number does not bother me, nor does the size.  I am very comfortable in my skin.  But, I decided to work out none the less.  I promised the sig 30 days, and then we'd go to the gym together.  Partially because I need a head start to catch up with his form, but more likely, because he didn't want to pay for a membership if I were just gonna blow it off.  Fine and good. 

So, I've always believed that you can't start anything mid week.  Monday is always the starting point.  If I stop on Tuesday, I'll restart next Monday.  Yes, that's my laziness kicking in. 

Well this lovely day, I got up early.  I laced up those trainers and slid into the shorts. I came to the living room and loaded my workout on youtube. I was ready..... until about 35 seconds into the warm up.  This portion was only 3 minutes long, and I was already dying.  I was sweating.  I don't sweat, but there was perspiration rolling down my back and forehead.  It wasn't delicate, graceful lady glistening either, but full on man sweat. Horrendous pourage rolling in mass quantities down my spine! My thighs were burning, and my shorts were suddenly rubbing uncomfortably against them.  By the time the real music began, I was almost to tears.  What did I get myself into?!

Before the first verse of song #2 was over, I was shaking head to toe. My butt and legs were on fire! I couldn't breathe! Almost certain of my impending doom, I slowed down just a tad.  The thoughts running through my head were of me lying on the floor dead from a massive heart attack with a toddler home alone all day.  How would he explain that to his therapist? How would the sig explain this to the world?  Oh yea so my girlfriend decided to be more healthy and died on day 1 of the work out. AHHHH!

I made it through the second song, and when the third started to play I was on to thoughts of lunch.  Did we have any donuts left? Man I could really use a cheese burger.  The thoughts of sushi, and ice cream, and cookies, and dill pickle chips just flooded my mind.  At this point my legs were numb.  I had stopped wondering if my gut was still jiggling, because I couldn't feel anything other than my armpits screaming for me to quit.  I didn't know there were muscles in your armpits by the way.  Maybe that's why boobs start to sag. 

At this point, my shorts were soaked. My feet were slipping around in my runners like I'd just jogged through a creek bed.  My shirt was sticking to me in the extremely irritating way like someone at the concert spilled beer all over you, but you paid way too much money for this ticket to go home, and there's no way you're getting an assault charge for hitting them.  So you just deal with it.  I was starving! All I wanted was a carbonated beverage of ANY kind. 

I thought I was going to pass out.  I couldn't do another leg lift.  I couldn't squat again.  I probably won't be able to squat for a week to be honest.  I looked down at the clock. IT HAD ONLY BEEN 7 MINUTES!!!!  Are you serious?! I can't even breathe through 7 minutes of exercize without having heart palpatations and fearing cardiac arrest? This 30 days may very well be the longest of my life.  I think it's possible that it could be longer than the last 6 weeks of pregnancy. 

I'm not sure being in shape is for me.  Maybe it's ok to be a little pudgy.  After all I've dealt with my weight and dimples this long, what's a few more years? I'm white, like porceline white.  I can't tan.  I don't tan. It's just not in the genes for me, and I'm ok with that.  I have the map of Asia around my belly button.  That belly button on a good day looks a little mishapen, but on a bad day appears to have a tiny hand pushing out of it.  It's a hernia, and it doesn't bother me.  I still wear my swim suit.  I still rock some shorts.  Life is way too short for all this stress.  I'm not niave enough to say I will go on a diet. It won't happen.  I like greasy food, and fries, and chips, and brownies, and cake, and omg that sounds amazing right now. I'm salivating, so I'm going to wrap this up. 

In short, I'm ok with my size. I'm not going to quit, because I promised the sig 30 days.  Who knows, maybe I'll even start to enjoy it.  Until then, I'll be the one vegging out on the couch with every item of junk food in this house.  If anyone's down for burgers for lunch, come get me! I'll buy.

Vulnerable...

"She's vulnerable," she said.  "She's vulnerable." Those words have repeated themselves in my head a million times over the last 24 hours.  I questioned why anyone would point that out, and then it hit me.  I am vulnerable....and that's the best complement anyone could have ever said about me. 

In a world where it is better to be hardened and bitter, I am vulnerable.  I am so proud to be that.  I type on this keyboard and share it with millions of people: close friends, coworkers, family, enemies, strangers alike, and I am ok with that.  My heart has been broken so much. I have suffered so much, and vulnerable is the best thing I could ever ask to be.  Willing to love, regardless of the pain that may come.  Despite my insecurities, fears, failures, I am willing to bare the deepest parts of my soul for the chance at happiness. 

I met a man, a beautiful man that struck me the minute he walked into my life.  He was my friend long before my significant other.  I watched his struggles in life and in love.  I prayed for him. I worried for him.  I never even noticed it. I was drawn to him, and I didn't even notice it.  So when tragedy struck in my life, and he stepped up to be a friend, again, without even noticing I allowed him to be there.  I let him be my friend even though I was suffering.  I let him in.  He didn't make the first move. I did.  It just happened, but it happened all the same, because I allowed myself to step out there again.  I allowed myself to be vulnerable, despite the heartache I felt in the past.

No matter how much pain comes my way in the future, or what I still feel from the past, I don't ever want to build the walls so high that they're impenatrable.  I want to feel.  We should feel. It's human.  I don't want to numb the pain. I don't want to regret not saying the words in my mind.  I don't ever want someone to question how I feel about them. 

I was petrified the day he said we were going to meet his parents.  I couldn't concentrate over the next few hours, and thousands of excuses flashed through my head as to why I couldn't go.  But, I went anyways. I swallowed the fear.  I stepped out there, praying I was good enough, praying I'd be accepted.  I have grieved the loss of so many friends and family members, but I am willing to make room in my life  and my heart for more.  They may not all stay with me, after all, friends come and go.  But, I will give myself the opportunity to know and love them anyways. 

I am scared of pain.  I do have trust issues, but I am brave enough to say "I love you." I am big enough to admit that if my relationship ends, it will break my heart. It will hurt.  I don't need anyone, but I want them.  I don't need the sig, and I can live without him, but I want him here, and I don't want to be without him. I'm strong enough to trust in love after the hurt. I am willing to be vulnerable, because love is worth the chance of pain.  Because love is the only thing on this earth that cures the heartache and seals the wounds.

Love sucks. I'm sorry that I'm not sorry.

To those I offended by my Valentine's....

My humblest apologies are in order. I took yesterday to really consider why it was offensive. Personally, I don't think it was. When I see a little heart attached to the straw of a juice box, I don't read "love sucks" offensively. I see a pun whose intended purpose was humor. 

Apparently in our society of over sensitive, easily offended, politically correct individuals humor is no longer acceptable, and for that I am sorry. I am so sorry that we can no longer use certain words without someone reading too much into it or getting in a tizzy. Lord help us all, if she was trying to be cute. I'm sorry that your children won't grow up with thick skin. It saddens me to the bitter core that literal is the only form of speech acceptable, and even then silence is best. I'm sorry that your children are being taught that freedom of speech is no longer free. Our fore fathers fought for a freedom we aren't even able to exercise anymore, because heaven forbid if it's too colorful for a fifth grader. 

Your school system can allow our children to learn a terrorist religion, witness violence, be bullied into suicidal thoughts, and learn more about the human anatomy than most adults know, but we can't be funny anymore. For that I am truly sorry. From now on, you can rest assure that I will screen my cards. I will resort to premade valentines if necessary, but I have the utmost sympathy for the kids growing up in this system. There are worse things to be offended by than my poor choice in words, but I am sorry. I will stifle my creativity, be careful of my wording, and give every effort not to be off color. 

I will offer you this, a light bulb and my final pun. Some would think it's because I'd seen the error in my ways, but no. This is for you. I want you to place it visible to whatever chair you rest in to contemplate, so the next time you wear your feelings on your shirt sleeve and decide to invent a reason to cry, you can look at it and remember to lighten up. 

Sincerely and God bless, 

Love sucks. I'm sorry that I'm not sorry. 

The value of a dollar

I realize I've been on a roll lately with my "life skills" rants. There's a reason behind it.  It's something I have taken a personal interest in and made my mission to teach my children. I'll be perfectly honest in saying that growing up, I had no idea the value of a dollar.  So now that I have discovered it's not much,  I want my children to understand.  Money doesn't grow on trees.  Those sneakers aren't paid for with cash.  They're purchased with chunks of time and energy out of my life.

I heard someone talking about her daughter's education last week, and it infuriated me. She said, and I quote "I'm not really worried about her education right now." WHY?! Not trying to be ugly here, but at some point you need to put a little stock in that education.  Marrying well isn't easy even if she's the epitome of a trophy wife.  In this day and age it takes 2 incomes to make it, and the chances of a woman being a stay at home wife/ mother are slim. Instead of assuming this is the path her life is going to follow, why are we not teaching our daughter's to be self sufficient?  The same way I tell my sons, I instill in my daughter that two things will take you where you want to go in life- a good education and a good credit score. That said you'll need a job to buy the items you want and need, and the brains to pay your bills on time.

This subject gets my blood pressure elevated.  The vein in my forehead is thumping as I type.

Not many are teaching their children the cost of possessions. Like I said, they're not purchased with money.  Those $150 Nike shoes takes the average person making $10 an hour, 3 days to earn.  This is because after taxes and such, they only make about $6.50 an hour.  This doesn't include the other bills their working towards earning.  Now multiply that times the number of kids you have.  In my case 4.  That puts it a little more in perspective right? It would take me 8 to 10 days working 10 hours at a time to afford all of them a pair, and that's just shoes.  Now let's add in jeans at $40 a pair, shirts an average of $15 each, a jacket for $30, and that's us shopping at American Eagle.  Lord help us when they develop a real taste for trends and labels.

I've maintained that when my children get to driving age, they will assist in the purchasing process.  Regardless of what I can afford, they're helping.  Them helping pay for the car will give them a better sense of appreciation.  Insurance premiums teach us to drive more responsibly. General maintenance is important for longevity.

I still have toddlers in addition to my preteens.  When they break a toy, I make them throw it away.  I don't rush out to buy a new one. They don't get treats every time we go to the store anymore.  Treats are for good kids who have earned a reward.  I'll buy you a banana every time I walk through the door of Target to keep you quiet, but I'm not buying a set of Legos. Is your room clean? Have you been respectful? Did you help out around the house at all? That's what earns the treat.

For goodness sakes, if I hear another parent talking about not caring about their kids education "at this age" I'm going to lose it. School isn't to retain all the information they learn.  I can't tell you the last time I had to explain the process of photosynthesis, and I have never used the periodic table since graduating.  My years in school did teach me time management, deadlines, the importance of being prepared, and how to deal with people. It also taught me to work smarter not harder. That education is important to get a better job.  I am not by any means belittling manual labor.  Not everyone is interested in being a Dr. or a lawyer. Some folks enjoy working on engines and homes. That's perfectly fine.  We do however need to teach our children that without that education, you won't make as much. A certified mechanic makes more than someone self taught.  A licensed contractor has more call backs than the handy man. See where I'm going here. Invest in your children and yourself.

So the next time you think it's not that important to be concerned about their schooling, think of what you're teaching them.   You're teaching your kid that he gets a participation ribbon just for showing up. No. That's not how life works.   I don't get a pay check just for clocking in.  If I don't accomplish anything throughout the day, my boss is more than likely going to tell me to find employment elsewhere, and then guess what? It's going to take even longer to purchase those sneakers.

Now I'm off to relax just a little, before I burst a blood vessel. Use your head people. Stop teaching your kids to be lazy and that life will just magically be handed to them.

Life skills

I think I've missed my calling in life.  Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy the new path I'm on, but I think I am going to continue my education and get a teaching degree. I want to teach Life Skills in about 20 years.  I can hear those that know me well.  Oh Lort! Our children are gonna learn some crazy stuff. Yes they will! They will learn what life is really about.  

I know I've touched on this in the past, but who remembers learning to balance a check book in school?  I didn't.  I recall taking an economics class, but I don't remember the part where they taught us how to choose the right mortgage or car financing options.  Home Ec never covered the part of how to communicate with your spouse either.  These are things our kids need to know, before they rush out into the world.

On the budget subject, they'd be given a hypothetical life with every option out there. This is your spouse.  Here's your house, with options to stay, remodel, rent it out, sell it, let it foreclose etc. Here's your car, it's set of mechanical problems and options for that as well. Fix it, sell it,  wreck it, send it back, etc.  Theses are your kids. You've got 2, 3, 4, however many they draw out, and here are their issues. This one is ungrateful.  This one has asthma.  That one is lazy. These are your options for the kids.  You can teach them, cater to them, send them to live with Grandma what have you.  Their budget would never include enough money to cover all the bills and live comfortably.  That may very well happen in your life, but not every month, and every person needs to know how to react in a struggle.  The choices made would have consequences too.  For instance, Whoops you got pregnant again! Aha! You're being audited this year! Good try buddy, but you're being sued now.Hey, honey the roof is leaking. Well, it's your roof now, cause daddy found a new girlfriend at the office, and he's moving out. Real life scenarios!! The goal of the lesson is to avoid divorce, bankruptcy, being homeless, suicide, murder or jail. Passing means you managed your money, made cuts where necessary, and made it out with all members of the family, and only ran your bank account into the red once.  You are allowed to zero out 12 times a year, but points are docked for going into the negative.  I think it's a great idea. I firmly believe the next generation, and the last for that matter, have no idea how to be an adult.

If anyone in the class gets in a fight, they're required to spend the remainder of their time that year together.  You'll be best friends or mortal enemies, but you won't graduate unless you can get along.  It means they have to do every project together.  They have to be friends outside of school too.  They have to do homework together, carpool to school, and ultimately work it out.  You know what that teaches them? Divorce isn't an option.  You may not like your boss, but you've got to fake it with a smile. Family will inevitably drive insane, but you have to love them anyways. Bullying would plummet.

Going back to the spouse, there will be an entire semester on relationships.  Like I said, each class member will be assigned a spouse of their choosing.  Some will be compatible, and some will be out of convenience.  You get in an argument? You're not allowed to sleep until you work it out.  Counseling will be made available, but the exam will be graded based on your ability to avoid splitting up at all costs.  Separation is allowed, but points are docked.  Points are given back and even awarded based on the getting back together process. This teaches them to choose their mate wisely.  Looks aren't always everything. Money can't buy you happiness, and psychotic tendencies lurk in the most unsuspected.

Life skills would have a follow up class as well, that deals with all the short comings.  If you and your spouse didn't make it, you get to learn to coparent.  If you filed bankruptcy, you get to learn how to recover and rebuild.  If you're homeless, you'll learn how to get back on your feet.  We'll call this class Recovery. They'll both be required, and at the end of them, these kids will have a clear understanding of real life, responsibility, and ultimately- cause and effect. 

Bitter or Better? Your choice

Sunday service was very inspiring for me.  Obviously, I'm on my second post that struck me from the sermon.  Pastor spoke about a man he met that every time he asked how he was doing would reply with "It's so hard. Life is so hard."  I swear I use that phrase a lot.  Life is hard! But, we all have a choice.  We can revel in the misery, or we can be thankful for the problems we have. After all, someone out there is praying for your battle.  It can always be worse.  That sounds negative, but really it's not.

One thing he said really hit home.  "I got news for you.  You folks that are having the best time of your life, it's gonna change. Didn't say it was good news! But you folks that are struggling right now, guess what? Change is coming." That was monumentous in my world. I feel like I've been circling the drain for a good minute. So hey, there's no where to go but up right? I've said 1000 times, and I'll say it another few thousand. "If I can survive the last 4 years of my life, I can make it through anything."  I have suffered the loss of friends, family, homes, jobs, cars, custody, relationships, material possessions, and the list goes on and on. I'm not sad about it. Every loss lead me to a gain.  My marriage failed, but I discovered that there is life after love.  I wasn't living up to my potential anyways, and I wasn't as happy as I thought.  I couldn't afford that car.  I worked from the bottom to the top at that job, but the view wasn't what I had imagined.  That ride or die friend was toxic to me, and I was toxic to her.  Those relationships taught me to always trust in love one more time, no matter how bad it hurt.  Love is the only thing on earth that heals the pain.  No one is better off alone, but like I've said before, everybody leaves.  By way of death or indifference, everybody's time in our lives has an expiration date, and I am ok with that.

To be happy in the midst of the struggle is not always easy.  When you're stressed to keep a job, or find a job, it's hard not to wonder where next month's rent is coming from.  It took a leap of faith for me to stop worrying. The good Lord has never let me down, and I don't want to doubt that now.

We're going to suffer in this life.  It is my personal belief that how we handle the suffering determines the reward on the other side.  If we get all bogged down and frustrated and negative about everything,  the light at the end of the tunnel is just a way out.  We don't appreciate it.

We need to stop worrying so much. Take it one day at a time and stop looking for problems that don't exist yet.  You may get hit by a train on your way to work tomorrow, but that doesn't mean you rewrite your will every night or take a different path that doesn't take you across the tracks.  Live today.  Kiss your babies. Love your mommas. Just stop stressing.

And that's my soap box speech today.  God bless.

The next phase

It dawned on me today, while sitting in Sunday service no doubt, that we always seem to be looking forward to the next phase in life.  I hear people all the time. "I can't wait to get married." "I can't wait until we have kids." "I can't wait for this baby to be born!" "Oh will I ever sleep through the night again?" "Will the terrible 2's ever end?" "Ugh, I can't wait until he's 4, because apparently the terrible 2's were just a warm up for the terrorist 3's."   We're always looking forward to what's coming next. Do we ever live in the now? 

I'll admit I'm right there with the rest of the world in stressing over the future.  Between work, family, sports, kids, the sig and my ex, there's no shortage of anxiety here.  A few things occurred to me today though. Far sooner than I am ready my youngest won't call for his Nan every time he gets in trouble.  My oldest doesn't use the word "riven room"  anymore.  My 3 year old will soon refuse to kiss me in public. There won't be toys left in the bottom of the bath tub forever.  All this makes me nostalgic.  Those tiny socks will soon turn into full grown sizes, and the cute little puppy love will evolve into full blow heart break.  I'm not ready.  

I miss the days when my sweet girl would ask 100 times a day to watch "the goo goo moo moo."  I would grit my teeth, but now that my sweet angry German wants to watch "the boog"  every single day over and over and over, I let him. I don't say no.  We know every word.  I've learned over time that when the kids ask you to sit down and color with them, you drop everything and color.  They won't ask forever.  There may be years with no crayons in the house, so I smile as I clean out their pockets.  Between the skittles between the couch cushions and matchbox cars lined in the window sill, they each bring a smile and quite frequently with them a misty eye. 

I am excited for what the next step in this life brings, but I am not ready to let go of what's going on now.  Soon enough I'll be meeting the parents of my children's significant others, and my heart will ache for the simple days.  You know, the days when changing pajamas was an accomplishment and brushing your hair was a privilege.  Whew! Who would've thought we'd ever be thankful for 2 hours of sleep, nonconsecutive at that and forgetting to eat all day long, because we were too busy cleaning up after the meals of the little ones?  

Yes, I'm looking forward to the future, but I am not stressing it.  As far as I'm concerned, these are the best years of our lives, and those to come will only be better.  

Tell me a story. ...

We all know someone who has clear commitment issues. I am that friend. I am the one on a prepaid cell plan, because I refuse to sign up for a couple years service. What if I don't like that carrier in a year? What if I want a new phone? I can't do a contract. I am the friend who has a significant other, because the term boyfriend just feels awkward for me. Lord help us if someone refers to him as my husband. 

Where does the allergy to commitment come from? Well, somewhere along the way someone destroyed trust. Someone on the path of life took security away and replaced it with the I'm not sure anymore attitude. Folks look at me crazy, because I have tattoos. Well, my tattoos aren't going to roll over one day and tell me they don't love me.

I am still bent. I'm not broken, because I am capable of trust and love. It's just a little harder to earn these days. I'm not afraid of love. In fact, that's the one addiction I have. Love conquers all right? It may not conquer all, but it heals better than time. 

I am not insecure. I am very comfortable in my skin. That doesn't mean I don't like to hear that I'm beautiful. I am quite confident in who I am. I've faced my demons, and I know my flaws. That doesn't exclude me from wanting to hear why I'm loved. I want to hear these things, because time changes everything. The reason you love me now may not be why you fell originally. The reasons you stay aren't the same as they were last year. Seasons changes. People change. Relationships evolves, and knowing why we're going to make it is an ever revolving door. Priorities, routines and habits all conform over time. 

Remind me why I'm worth it. Tell me about the good old days, and how they've gotten better. Tell me what I need to work on. What drives you crazy? What's irresistible? What turns you on? They say men need to be needed, but women need to be wanted. What makes you want me? 

When I look at the sig I see a handsome, charming, hilarious, sometimes selfish, sexy, romantic. I still get chills when he brushes his hands across my back as he passes by. My heart beats faster when he holds my hand, and my whole day melts away when he pulls me in for a deep embrace. No matter how I feel, I am ok when he holds me. 

On the flip side, I hear every time he doesn't say I love you. I feel the tension when he's upset with me, and it rips me to shreds. I don't sleep if he doesn't hold me. I miss him when he's not here, but after all this time I still smile when his name shows up on my phone. I often wonder what goes thru his mind when he thinks of me. 

Tell me a story.....you know the one where you fell in love with me. Remind me.  I want to hear the way your heart beat in your chest when I appeared. What was it about me that caught your attention?  You tell me yours,  and I'll tell you mine.

Growing up

Getting old really sucks.  I remember my dad would always tell me You can eat anything you want until you turn 25.  Then you're just gonna blow up!  I didn't believe him then, but at the ripe age of 25 I saw the light.  I had never been super skinny, but I was thin... a curvy thin, but thin none the less.  I'd never had a cavity, and for the most part I was relatively healthy.  The worst I'd ever been sick with was the flu or Mono. 

Twenty five hit, and suddenly my metabolism slowed to a screeching hault.  My teeth began to decay, and my hair changed consistency altogether.  I found my first white hair, and yes I said white.  It wasn't gray.  It was electric, ghostly white.  Food allergies began to set in, and the next thing you know, I was allergic to everything from beef to wheat.  My joints started popping, bones were more brittle, and nap time became my favorite activity. 

Age brings so many new things with it, unwanted to say the least.  Hormone imbalances, mood swings, night sweats, sensitive skin, hair loss, etc.  You start losing the hair on your head and suddenly have to shave your toes.  When I was a kid, I'd look at people my age and think gah!  You are so old!! I don't agree anymore.  At 32 years old, I think I am pretty young. I've got so much life left in me, but the body isn't holding up as well as the mind and spirit.  I still want to jump on the trampoline with the kids, play tennis in the backyard, and dive off the highboard.  The kids are still raring to go at 9 pm, and I'm fading by 7.  You hear people say they want the energy of the kids.  I don't.  I just want enough to keep up and the lung capacity to not have a heart attack after a 50 foot dash. 

The hormones bring the mood swings, which in essence causes everyone to take a ride on the emotional roller coaster.  You could be having a wonderful morning, and the slightest issue brings tears rolling down your face like the flood gates of the Hoover Dam just opened.  You find yourself balling over the dishes, because the kids hated whatever gourmet meal you attempted to serve.  When the baby suddenly decides one day that the man who plays cowboys with him is more fun than you, it sends your body into shock.  Next thing you know,  you're irritated at the world.  The family decides to watch a kid movie, and as consistent as gravity the room is staring at you as you're sobbing about a little girl in a Disney film losing her imaginary friend.  You lie awake at night wondering why on earth you can't seem to get it together.  Tomorrow's another day.  I'm not going to freak out and cry. Tomorrow comes and so do the water works... and over something as stupid as the neighbor's cat crapped in your flower bed.  Nobody walks there.  Why is it such a big deal?

You go to the Dr., and what does he say? It's totally normal.  You're almost 35, and it's understandable.  You break down when you explain how you've gained 10 pounds over 3 months.  Well what are you doing to counteract that? he asks.  Everything! Dr. I'm desperate.  I've done everything except exercise! As soon as the words leave your lips, you realize how goofy you sound.  I've done everything except the 50% of the recommended regimend to lose weight! GAH!! Then it hits.  How can I exercise? I don't even have the energy to play a board game!! How on earth am I going to do jumping jacks?! Old age....it's the number one killer on earth. 

When I grow up

I can't wait for the day that I'm old enough to move in with my kids.  I know how that sounds. It sounds insane.  I'm well aware of the insanity in that phrase, but honestly what sweet justice?  I want to be the one running through the house naked right after a bath or staring blankly at the tv after being told we have to leave in 5 minutes with only 1 sock on.  Yep, that sounds awesome to me. 

Better yet, I want to get in their business.  It'll be my turn to ask the crazy questions like What's wrong baby? You're poor? I mean UP IN THEIR BUSINESS!  I want to be the old lady in the grocery store begging my kids to buy EVERYTHING on the shelf... or just sneaking random crap in the cart and pretending to have no clue where it came from later.  I'll ask to borrow money all the time.  I'm going to read their text messages, may even respond to a few.  Mail won't be safe either.  I'll look through their bills and question where their money goes.  The fun part will be asking about their relationships.  Why do y'all fight about that? Why do you like him/her? How come he never buys you flowers?  I don't think he spent enough money on you for Christmas.  You should've planned better for that anniversary. 

Child discipline won't be safe either.  Honey, it's ok.  Granmum will fix it.  We'll go get a cookie.  We won't tell mom and dad you were bad today.  Don't spank him. He's just being a boy.  I never punished you for that.  You're not being fair to that child.  I think you like Bobby better than Suzy.  Oh yea! Boundaries won't exist at all.  They'll have all these long talks with me about how I'm being disrespectful and need to mind my own business.  What are they going to do? Send me to my room?  Put me in a nursing home? Then I'll call home every day and lay the guilt on thick about how I never sent them away when they were being difficult.  I just sucked it up, dealt with it and loved them anyways.  They good news is I have 4 kids, so I can torture them one at a time. 

When we go to Dr. appointments, I'll be the one in the waiting room going on and on about how they NEVER feed me.  At the mall I will complain how they never buy my anything.  My stuff is all so old, and Ugh, you always say no to everything.  TV time will be my time to sit and talk over whatever it is they're wanting to watch.  I will inevitably have to pee everytime someone takes a shower, and when my rear hits the seat it may have a different urge.  I will use all the hot water when I bathe and splash water all over the floor...water I won't clean up.  I may even get out of the bath to pee and leave water all over the toilet seat.  I'm never flushing either.  I will hide my dirty laundry under the bed, and stuff shredded paper behind EVERYTHING. I will make a point to spill every drink I am poured, hate every dinner served, and complain how nothing is ever good enough.  Cleaning will be out of the question.  I'm shoving all the junk into the corner and then begging to go outside to play. 

Speaking of play time... every night it'll be play a game with me. Let's go jump on the trampoline.  I want a popsicle.  I need those skittles!! Of course, I won't ask just once.  Oh no, that wouldn't be fun. I'll beg until they either give in or flip their lid.  I'll stare at them with that why have you gone nuts look the entire time they're yelling.  I may stare off into space occasionally until they get in my face and ask why I'm not listening to them.  And when they've had too much, I'll go tell them how sorry I am. Make them feel like I'm going to change, and then ask for the skittles a few hundred more times. 

The car will be the best place ever.  I will help pump the gas and go extremely slow with it.  Needing something from every gas station is a must, and using the bathroom at every stop will never get old.  The radio station will need to be on what I like to listen to, and I'll roll the windows up and down constantly on a rainy and cold day while kicking the back of their seat.  I will be hungry every time we get in the car and leave half my food under the seats.  Of course, I will require bringing something from home everywhere we go and leave it in the car too. 

When their friends come over, I'm going to share secrets like They were fighting yesterday.  She said she was kicking him out.  They didn't pay the wifi bill on time.  They yell at me all the time.  My room sucks, and my bed is uncomfortable.  Oh the bed!  Yes, in the middle of the night for the first couple months I'm there, I will creep into their room and ask to sleep with them.  When that doesn't work, I'm going to steal their favorite blanket for my bed, because it's just so perfect.  Their favorite pillow will be mine.  I will sit in their favorite spot on the couch when they get up. It's very important that I remember I must poke them every time I need their attention and call their name over and over and over and over and over again.  If they refuse my attention, I will make a point to get right in their face, maybe even grab their cheeks.  Lights will always have to be on in every room, which I will forget to turn off.  I'm not walking the dog. What do I look like? I did my chores for the 100 years I was raising them.  No matter how full the trash is, it'll hold what I need to discard, even if it means throwing it on the floor next to can.  And a trail of candy wrappers will follow me wherever I go. 

I will wait until we're in public to pass gas or burp.  I'll talk about my movements and bodily functions all the time.  I may even question their bodily functions and snicker whenever someone farts.  It'll be the best thing that ever happened.  Coloring on random pages in notebooks will keep me busy at night, and writing funny things in their calendar will be a nice gift they need to find.  The best part of all of this?  They'll love me for it.  They'll sit around complaining to their friends about how annoying I am, but yet I seem to have the sweetest look.  They just can't get rid of me.  They'll miss me when I'm not around, and they will crave my laughter in the silence.  I will be the smiling face they can't wait to see when they get home, and the bad days will be better when I'm there.  I will test their patience at every turn and push them to the very last thread of their rope, but I will reel them back in at the end of the day with my never failing love and affection.