According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December. Female reindeer retain their antlers until after they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to every historical rendition depicting Santa’s reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a woman. We should’ve known… ONLY women would be able to drag a fat-ass man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost
Typical Mom, a year goes by and I get nothing accomplished that’s important to me. Busy with kids, husband, life – even the dog! Pleasing everyone but myself.
I heard a line in a movie and it hit me. The main character, who is dying, looks back at his life and accomplishments and feels as though all he did was work to support his family his whole life. Work and family. No personal accomplishments, no dreams realized. His friend asks him why he let it happen. His answer is”seventy years can go by like that”. And he snaps his finger.
Well, this past year went by like THAT. (Snap.) I can’t believe it’s been a year since I attempted to start this blog. I still can’t figure out how to upload a word document into this damn thing! Don’t they know they should make it easy for us old people, us moms with no time to figure it out?!
Anyway, I have tons of good stories to share – once I can upload them.
This past year was a year of a lot of work and a lot of trying but with a lot of resulted failure and little success.
What kept me so busy, you ask? Well, I started a business, actually on the same day I started this blog and that took priority. I have worked my butt off and I haven’t made a dime. I have learned a lot (yippee) but I’m not sure if I’m stronger now or if I’m on the verge of crumbling. I tried for two and a half years to have one last baby but after a miscarriage and the start of peri-menopause, I think I’m shit out of luck there! I guess I’ll need to wait twenty years for a granddaughter to finally see someone in all those cute dresses I bought in France on my honeymoon. Hope they’re not out of style by then. But those little shoes are so cute….
Right now my roof is leaking, I make no money, I have night sweats (Thank God no hot flashes yet!) but for some strange reason, my sense of humor is intact. As my husband says, “No one thinks you’re funny except you….”. Maybe I only entertain myself but at least I’ll go out laughing.
Perhaps that’s what keeps me sane. That and the knowledge that countless other women have walked the earth before me and mastered these same experiences and survived, even women with six children, women without husbands, women in poverty, women with intense sickness (or just night sweats), women who’ve lost their homes and even women in a time of war.
I know if those before me could do it, then so can I!
So, send me your sob stories or funny tales of kids gone wild. Someone can relate. I know there is someone out there who will come after me who struggles with a fledgling business or suffers the loss of an unborn child and all of you will go through menopause (Sorry to inform you of this ladies!)
So, drop me a line, Baby!
In a sometimes insurmountable effort to find scraps of time to write as a newly married mother with a baby, former single mom, and now step mom (exhale), I decided there is no place like the minivan! If you figured all that out, you’re probably single with too much time on your hands. For those of you moms, bleary eyed from lack of sleep, I have three kids, no time, and I am not driving my vehicle of choice. I’m a more than full-time desperate housewife, who looks less and less like the ones on Wisteria Lane and a part-time writer. I’m sometimes wishing it was the other way around (see sleepless nights), but mostly glad it’s not (see beautiful baby).
This is my story of commonality as a woman, as a mother. I don’t know about you, but I got sick of seeing beautiful ageless celebrities with help from personal trainers, diets which include air and triple ionized, purified dew drops from the Himalayan mountains and plastic surgeons…”A little more off the bottom, a little more on top, please” as role models and decided to get real. I want to tell the real stories, the ugly truth about being an American woman. Don’t worry non Americans, there’s ugly truth from wherever it is you hail. I say this, and don’t hate me until you finish reading the sentence, as a former bikini friendly body, looking down at a belly that single handedly answers that oft heard request, “ I want to see you wiggle it, just a little bit,” and hey, I’ll even throw in some stretch marks. My belly is the roadmap of motherhood. I consider it a badge of survival.
Now, I invite you , other mothers, other writers, to share your stories, your real stories about life. Share with us your stories about being a woman without a personal trainer, a chef, a driver, a full time masseuse, and probably not even a good babysitter (one who does dishes and actually puts away the toys, for God’s sake). Please share your thoughts, ideas, and stories. Anything you are thinking of, whatever is on your mind and absolutely everything you want to share about yourself, no matter how insignificant it may seem – someone will relate. We love pictures, too, but not too many belly flab photos. I can look at myself naked for that delightful image!