Keep your fears to yourself but share your courage with others.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
I like to think that I’m FEARLESS!
In my mind I leap tall buildings, keep a spotless home and can do dang near anything I set my mind to.
OK, so 1 outta 3 isn’t so bad.
I have “The Mom” persona that leaps into action, into any situation to rescue my cub. The ‘I can do it’ lady that tries hard to set a good strong example for my children.
Then there is “The Real Me”.
Real Me is the biggest wiener EVER!
In spite of my own fear of the dark, we managed to raise kids that don’t mind it at all. Don’t judge, you know you don’t like your limbs to hang off the edge of the bed either.
The older the kids get, the harder it is to contain my funny foibles.
Once upon a time I walked on water, had the answers to everything and my hugs/kisses solved all hurts. Then they grew up and know better… I’m just another fallible human.
As an avid hiker, I’m always harping to ALL about looking out for snakes.
“Don’t go there, Snakes!”
“Don’t lift that… SNAKES!”
“Stick to the path. Snakes!”
“Your going camping? Have fun, be careful it’s a bad snake season.” I’m such a kill joy!
I made a pact with My Handsome Prince that I would take care of all spiders and he deals with ALL snake related issues.
I might need to get that in writing.
Snakes find me. Just like a dog sitting on the feet of the one person in the room that HATES dogs.
I once dated a guy that had lost his snake many months prior to my visit. I was awoken in the night by a strange creepy crawly feeling. His missing snake had joined me in bed!? Curling up to snuggle my heat! After I peeled myself from the ceiling, I ran and never looked back.
There is a snake ban in effect around here. Yet almost all of the kids want one. :/
K brought her friend’s snake over and into my room…
I’m still scarred!
Snakes in any form illicit a primal response from me. My inner 6 year old screams violent bloody murder, limbs are flailing about as if to try to run away on their own and I stammer like Ozzy Osbourne blinded by tears that rapidly overflow on their own.
Being a useless boob around snakes is tough to conceal when they seem to seek me out. Like little pride bashing cold blooded missiles looking to make me seem like a hysterical sobbing princess and ALWAYS when there are witnesses to my spastic crying cootie dance.
Looks like a beautiful inviting lake, right?
Oh my unholy nightmare!
Let’s give a warm welcome to my most irrational fear… Lakes!
Maybe it’s due in part to a little Friday the 13TH. Jason certainly scared me right outta my double scrunch socks in the ’80’s.
Or perhaps The Lake Placid Movies sealed the deal.
Terrified or not, I have no problem going out on the family boat for a day of flagging for the kids to tube or ski. Deal is: I don’t have to go into the actual water.
I’m an accomplished strong swimmer. No worries there. It’s so deep and whatever is in there has been in there forever marinating in fish pee… no thank you! I know I know… ISSUES!
I’ve never been traumatized by a lake and have no problem surfing in any ocean BUT lakes still scare me to the point of performing stupid human tricks.
Last time we went out the anchor was stuck on a sand bar and we were drifting straight for the rocks in shallow water. The Prince looks at me and demands that I jump in for the anchor so he can navigate us out of the situation. We’re the adults, the responsibility is ours.
There I am standing on the back deck of the boat rapidly shifting my weight from foot to foot, like I was tap dancing my S.O.S. It was just the beginning of my full scale panic attack! As I started to mount my protest, my voice reached octaves perhaps only dogs can hear. Shaking, crying, begging not to go in… all 4 of our kids + one extra friend and my Prince all stared back at me with varying looks of shock and amusement. My Prince never asks too much of me but we were heading towards several thousands of dollars worth in repairs if I didn’t pull up my big girl pants. Rational left the building and control went with it! I then announced I’d have to get another job to cover the repairs and I slumped onto the deck ugly hiccup crying between blubbering begging. Not my finest moment! The Prince was not pleased to say the least.
K whispered to her friend and they stood up.
“Gosh, Drama Mama!” she said as they jumped in, swam several yards and fixed the problem.
You’d have thought they were winning Olympic Gold by the manic cheering for them I did. Showering both with praise and kisses when they got back on board. The 10 year olds saved the day!
The Prince looked at me and said, ” Your Fired.”
Demoted from First Mate and put in steerage for the duration of the voyage where the Captain of Crazy belongs.
I can’t help it… my human leaks through the cracks all too often.
I’m not exactly scared of birds, it’s just that ALL birds HATE me with the furry of 10,000 suns!
I kid you not!
I was given a pet bird as a small child. Two days later I made a deal with the bird that I would let him go to fly with his friends, IF he would return that night. He never came back.
When my children were very young, I thought I’d try this pet bird thing again. I brought home a cockatiel and the kids were THRILLED! The bird loved the kids. The bird even liked the dog. The bird HATED me. My gaze burned his soul! Every time without fail when I would walk past his cage, he’d hiss at me with his beady little dry tongue. I fed him, he hissed and tried to bite me. I was the only one that cared if he drank water that he pooped in, yet he hissed and tried to attack when I came with clean water. He would not take a treat from me and it got to the point that I couldn’t be in the room if the bird was out. He’d fly at me and chase me behind a closed door.
This was not the bird experience I had been looking for!
Determined to win over our feathered friend, I tried everything to make this work.
This bird was of the devil and was growing smarter everyday. Finally, I had to put clips on the doors of the cage after he learned to let himself out. Bonding closer with the kids as his utter loathing of me only increased until it exploded in a particularly viscous crescendo.
I had gone to change his water and forgot to replace the clip I’d taken off.
Standing at the kitchen sink, I turned as I herd a odd noise behind me. Kenz screamed just as the satanic bird flew right at me. AAAAAHHHHH Vivian Leigh moment!!!
It landed on my back, clinging on to my shirt and started repeatedly biting my ear.
Now flailing and screaming, while a flapping biting bird brain attacks! The sucker got his sharp claws entwined into my long hair which only gave him better leverage in which to exact his revenge. Flapping, pecking, screaming, crying kids… chaos reigned!
Now bleeding with no obvious solution, I pulled my t-shirt up over my head and used it to tangle the bird up into and out of my hair.
Once the bird had been extracted from my locks and was now suffocating in my shirt, it was shoved shirt and all into it’s cage. Locks went on, towel went over the cage, I sat down and cried.
Then I called my mommy and cried about it to her.
She has a friend that keeps birds so she made a call and the next day Mr. Nasty Bird was relocated with my shirt, to practice his evil elsewhere.
After the attack bird moment, the kids were not sad to see him go.
FYI: Nasty Bird went on to have a very happy life and liked his new owners.
If a bird flies into the warehouse, it ALWAYS goes straight for my desk!
At the beach, I’m the one that gets pooped on 100% guaranteed!
I must omit a funky bird vibe. They all seem to be plotting against me!
Chatting with a girlfriend the other day, she was telling me about an article she had read about how Mom Bloggers are making people depressed about themselves. Interesting. She went on about how the perfect pictures and stories are giving the illusion that the rest of the moms out there struggling to keep up are less than. Hmmmmm… I can see how people could get bummed out. When I see the zillions of posts about dream vacations, I admit I may turn a little green with envy.
Then she backed her statements up with, ” But you make me feel normal.”
That’s great I’m thrilled…. wait what?
Hateful! Are you trying to say I’m far from perfect?
“Yup! Love you!”
Truth is: Countless hours go into our posts. Careful planning, sacrifice and truck loads of love go into what we do.
I love the super bloggers that make it seem effortless. I love reading the amazing lives through the eyes of fascinating women! Depressing? Never! Inspiring!
None of us are perfect. We all have our “issues”. Oh yeah, I don’t include pictures that show a giant dust bunny poking out from behind something. The ones that happen to reveal my mountain of laundry don’t make it either. I step in “it” all the time and then promptly share it with the world. Why? Because I can and I LOVE it.
I love connecting with incredible people!
We’re all a people in progress. None better, just different.
If it wasn’t for the 1 million + Mommy bloggers out there, do you think I’d have the courage to toss my hat in the ring?
Nope! Super trail blazers- I thank you!
I stopped trying to be Mary Poppins and I found me.
Me is funky, a little off the wall, slightly Tye-dyed and happy to be here.
It’s been a crazy ride to keep my rear still kickin’ and I wouldn’t change a thing!
My fears and foibles haven’t stunted my children. In fact, they trust me more because they know I will always be honest with them. They take freaky leaps of faith because they see us doing the same. It’s a lovely feeling to know that we’ve created a space for learning, creativity, questioning and growing. We’re a team, all 6 of us.
Even with all the stuff that I fear… I still confront those fears all the dang time, for them and with them.
What fears are you defeating?
Normal isn’t normal,