I’m the mother of two, which really accessorizes my coffee addiction. I can’t remember the last time I slept past 6:30, even on a Saturday and I regularly pick macaroni and cheese bits out of my 2-year old’s strawberry blonde hair. When I’m at home I am the Exalted Ruler of my baby girls and Partner In Crime to best friend/husband and from 8 to 5 during the week, I take care of my other 120 children, who all happen to be between 18 and 73 and mostly male.
Most people see my “strong, independent woman” demeanor and think they know me, but what they don’t see is the sap that tears up when her husband is mad at her and cries with friends who need someone to cry with or sits in her walk-in closet just to be alone for a minute when the world seems too much.
I believe in Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness, Santa Claus (’cause he’s only real if you believe), fairy dust and the magical healing power of a mother’s kiss on a freshly scraped knee. I believe in Faith, unconditional Love and no-clump mascara. I denounce those who pass judgement when they neglect to analyze themselves first and I smile when those around me find small triumphs in their otherwise routine lives.
I don’t like to dwell on champagne wishes with a beer budget; I bet champagne really does taste like pee (or at least tastes the way pee SMELLS) and those that actually enjoy it most likely had to acquire the taste.
Growing up I always wanted to be like Mama or Oprah or Madonna but the more years I tack onto my age, the more I realize that it’s not so bad just being me.