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Too much waiting, not enough living.
Sometimes you have to stop looking for permission from everyone else to pursue your passions. If you wait for divine inspiration, you may spend your whole life waiting. When I started grad school, I read an article talking about the fear of starting. Some students dove right in, making corrections and alterations to the plan as they went, some stood at the edge of the pool assessing every ripple in the water before jumping in. Guess which I was. If you guessed I was the one frozen at the side, you were right. I waited so long and planned something so big that I had to change form a Masters degree…
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Bag it.
This morning as I was getting my son ready for Mom’s Morning Out, I pulled out some fresh pull-ups and he promptly told me, “No, I want to wear these” – these being his Lightning McQueen and Mater underpants. This was a pretty big moment because ever since the baby was born, Scooby has resisted underwear showing a strong preference for the pull-ups, even preferring them over being naked. I thought all little boys preferred to run around naked, but not this kid. So I swung into gear getting his backpack ready now with two extra pairs of underwear, pants, and headed into the kitchen for a plastic bag for…
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Coming Unhinged at Target
To make a very long story short (because my three page post was deleted by the magic that is Blogger), I went, I walked, I searched, I growled at children, I was completely defeated, I put things back on shelves and donning a dress with Chacos and no umbrella, walked to my car in the midst of a torrential downpour with a sopping wet stack of unused coupons and not a single bag of goods after spending nearly an hour and a half in Target. About two minutes into my drive home, the rain let up and I called my mom sobbing out tears of self-pity and loathing of coupons…
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I can't be your friend because you're too pretty
What is it about body image that emotionally confines us to living with our own preconceived ideas of people’s character and their judgment of us? Generally, I am deluded enough to classify myself as a nonjudgmental woman, one who bases her friendships on character, common interests, shared humor, etc. However, recently I’ve found myself living out old high school insecurities about my physical appearance, allowing it to dictate how I approach other women and how I think they are approaching me. I have lumped a whole group of women together and labeled them as “pretty girls” and decided that they all like each other because they are pretty and smile…
