The (Kinda) Date

So I put on my liar pants one day earlier this week.. And I said I was going to post on Friday night, about what happened on Friday night.

So in order to take off my liar pants (which I'm tired of because they keep smoking) I'm going to blog about what happened Friday night instead of my usual SOC with Fadra.

The kids and I loaded up in the Mom-mobile and headed out to our date.  I bought new outfits for both kids and myself  a new shirt.  Not to mention the snacks that I (don't) usually carry around, just in case.

I had total butterflies and nervous nelly attacks, but I gathered all my gumption and just kept on trucking until we got there.

I'm so glad I did because we had a good time. Bmom was awesome and amusing.  She made me feel absolutely at home because she did not have her house looking all spectacular when we got there.  And I can't tell you how much of a relief that is.

She cooked, we ate.  The kids watched some tv (mostly Poppa watched Mickey Mouse).  And we talked.  And we talked.  And we talked some more. And then she invited me/us back out for the Sunday School gathering they're hosting on the 29th.

I don't know if we're going yet.  But I'm definitely thinking about it.

Dating Again, Kinda

BFFs

I have a date.

Well I have a date kinda.

I have a friend date.  Actually it's more like a mom's who need friends who aren't their mothers date.

Sunday we had a nursery meeting at church (because workers are in short supply, even though kids aren't).  After the nursery meeting I finally just had to tell people.  I let the (three) women of the church know.  I need friends. I love my mom, and there's nothing I'd change except, I need more friends than just my mom.

And what do you know, after whoring out my number and facebook information, I have a date (with the kids) on Friday for dinner at my could be new friends' house.

So now I wonder, is this what I should do in order to find me a man?  I'll just go up to the pulpit and tell the pastor "I need me a man, and my kids need a good dad.  All those willing to apply please see me after church in the fellowship hall."  

Don't worry, I'm not doing that this weekend.  However if I do ever decide to do that I'll make sure mom gets it on camera so you all can watch my utter #fail at dating.

It's a Shame

I have been a 'big girl' for as long as I can remember.  And I never really had any issues with that.  I was me and I was happy, and people literally called me cheeks because I smiled so much, and my cheeks looked like chipmunk cheeks.

Then one time my mom was talking to someone, I don't really remember how old I was or who she was talking to.  All I remember is that she was telling them that my not being self concious about my arm fat and wearing sleeveless tops made her feel less self concious about herself.  And while that's great for her, I realized that there was something I should be ashamed of about my body.

Then I got over it, and moved on, and loved being me and my size.  Then, after two pregnancies, I'm at this weight and body shape that I cannot get comfortable with. I can't be comfortable or proud. And there's really very little reason as to why I'm having such trouble with it.

I was never made fun of.  I was never put down.  I did all the things I wanted to do while I was growing up.

And the girls at Curvy Girl Guide have started this new own your weight thing.

And I physically can't.  And the problem with this is that I've never not owned my weight. I've never not been proud of myself and my body.  And now I am.

I am ashamed of my body. I hide my weight. I cannot own my weight/body because I am NOT okay with it.

And writing this out has made me realize that if my weight is this much of an issue for me now that I really need to focus on that, like seriously.

Morning Routine

Today I couldn’t think up anything good to write about.  And frankly too much sadness going on to really think much. So I’m using a Blog Dare Prompt from a couple days ago.  The Morning Routine


Every morning, I try to squeeze as much sleep in as I can.  And I’m really lucky and spoiled.  I live with my mom (and siblings) and we have to be at work around the same time.  So she’ll wake me up.  Instead of using an alarm clock.  Some days I love it. Some days I hate it.

My routine really starts about four thirty or a quarter till five, when Poppa (Baby Boy) wakes up.  He likes to get a new bottle and go back to sleep for a couple of hours.  So I make him a bottle and if I’m lucky I sneak back into my bed without Cat waking up.  Most of the time I end up having to make her an additional cup and then putting her back into the bed with me.

And then my mom’s alarm goes off at a quarter till six, and she gets up and starts waking me up around six.

So after the 20 times I tell my mom just a minute and I finally pull myself from the bed I’m running about 10 minutes behind.  And yes I do realize that if I’d just get up somewhere BEFORE the 20th time of putting my mom off I’d be on time.  But I like sleep.

I get my clothes together and usually by the time I’ve decided on an outfit Poppa is awake again.  And so I change him and make him, yet another, bottle.  And let him coo, ma ma ma, da da da and pa pa pa while I get dressed.

And if Cat sleeps through all that I put him in his saucer and sneak out after waking my sister up.  If not I amuse Cat with Dora (She’s a slow waker) and a new cup.  And then sneak out to work.

Shrimp Tree Memories

Thanksgiving is full of memories around my house. My mom has memories of the last Thanksgiving before her mom died. I have memories of the last Thanksgiving before my Pa died, not to mention some of the Thanksgivings since then. There are lots of memories associated with Thanksgiving in my family. But more than Thanksgiving day, we remember Thanksgiving Eve.

When my Grandma was still alive she would spend the day before Thanksgiving prepping a lot of the food for Thanksgiving. You have to remember that she had 8 children, plus their spouses or girlfriends and they’re kids (and most of them had little to no problem with fertility). So there were always a TON of people over for Turkey day. And she would go a little bit elaborate on some things. (My mom, to this very day still brings up my Grandma’s love of a shrimp cocktail Christmas tree. Which is a Styrofoam cone covered in some green leaf and then covered with cocktail shrimp stuck on with toothpicks, just in case you were unsure.)

We don’t get that fancy. But we have (and probably always will) make a plan for the night before Thanksgiving as much as Thanksgiving day. We fix dips, and little appetizers to munch on while we do a lot of the prep for Thanksgiving. We’ll drink a little eggnog (and if I’m a good girl some kind of liquor) and end up staying up WAY too late, and laughing about some of the stupidest things. And through all our differences we’ll make memories that will last, and traditions that we’ll pass on to our kids one day.

That’s my favorite Thanksgiving memory. That along with looking over to my sister while we do something mundane (read: peeling sweet potatoes) when my mom starts to tell us about the last Thanksgiving before Grandma passed away, and the infamous Shrimp Cocktail Christmas tree.

These memories were inspired & brought to you by Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop