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It is that time of the month again folks.
No, not that time of the month sillies!
The time each month when I unburden myself of the silliest of silly secrets, we have a giggle, and then you share your own.
Without further ado…
- I don’t know my own eye color. No, seriously. They used to be fairly blue, then took on more of a green hue, and now they’re all whatever. When Jack was younger and loved to identify people by certain traits (hair color, height, eye color), we’d say “and what color are mommies’ eyes”? Blank stare. No answer. When we moved back from California I went to the DMV to get a Washington State drivers license. I left the eye color section blank on the form and the woman said “you need to put something down”. I opened my eyes widely and stared at her. Blank stare. No answer. After a few minutes of trying to figure it out, she finally wrote “green” on my driver’s license.
- I don’t get sun visors. You know, those hats that golfers wear all the time. Sure, they protect your face, but what about your ears and scalp? Is the intent just to keep your face out of the sun? Isn’t that like wearing sun-blocking pants but then a bikini top?
- Years ago when I first started blogging I didn’t yet have my thick “internet strangers can be assholes” skin. A woman once emailed me a TWO page long email to tell me how I was trying too hard to be quirky (specifically called out my “Hippie Shit” page as an example) and weird. Not knowing better, I sent her a very nice long response. And never heard back from her. 2018 me would just respond “I’m actually trying too hard to seem normal. This blog version of me is way less weird than I am in real life”. And maybe or maybe not a PS, go fuck yourself. Who knows.
- My house is too full of yelling. And easily 75% of it is coming from me. With the weather heating up I’m trying harder to yell less because our windows are open and our neighbors may assume a drill sergeant has moved into our house. I’ve read all the books, tried all the calm and nurturing tactics. Some of them have lasted a few weeks. Some minutes. Other days. Conclusion: It isn’t me. My kids and nephew are assholes who are hard of hearing.
- I can’t believe we’re raising a generation of kids who don’t get to watch afterschool specials. How else will they know to not do drugs, drink alcohol under a bridge, tell a lie, cheat on a test, or shoplift? Listen, people, the only way to learn life lessons is to watch 28 year olds pretending to be 15 in acid-washed jeans and high tops make mistakes.
- I don’t get the appeal of Google Home/Alexa/whateverthehellelse they sell. I mean, my phone does all that stuff. Do I really want a machine listening to my every word? I promise you within six days that little judgy robot voice would say “Sarah, stop yelling”.
- I made the decision back in February that Jack was going to start making his lunch for school every day starting in April. During spring break he got in big trouble for lying to me and I had to come up with a punishment that made him realize how serious it was without also screwing up an activity we had planned for the day (canceling it would have impacted Bennett too). So, I told him his punishment was making his lunch for the rest of the school year.
- I go to a Lutheran church. Picture a lot of Norwegians where the average age is probably in the 60’s. Our praise band has really stepped up their game in the music department and we now have a guitar (ohhhhhh). Anytime a song is really good I cringe because I know inevitably people will start clapping along. Listen, I love that the spirit is moving you, but collectively as a church, we have NO RHYTHM. Honky AF. I always hope that there aren’t first-time visitors there on “janky group clap” days.
- Anytime Jack does something with zero common sense in mind I want to yell “get it together kid – the tests say you’re smart”.
- There are days I would rather keep my kids inside doing nothing and driving me nuts, simply because anything is better than the stupid ass battle over applying sunscreen. For frick sakes kids, I’m putting lotion on your bodies. It’s not like I’m rubbing ground in glass onto your skin.
Alrighty, folks, that is it for me! Your turn.
I live in Louisiana where windows are never open in the heat, unless the A/C is out and then the neighbors windows are closed.
Yelling is an acceptable form of communication with my 16 year old son. I call him practice kid 2.0. I’m not a rookie mom, so frankly I thought he would be my golden child. I feel certain God laughed at this thought.
Our church is surprisingly joyful and has rhythm and relatively popular music. No one on the stage is over 25 except our pianist, who is only 15 in her heart! I don’t clap, but I do sing.
I don’t like my food to touch. This brings great joy to my family as they tease me.
I wish I was as free spirited as my daughter. She’s like a hippie only born in 1994 and finally figuring out how to adult.
My husband is our glue. He’s the calm in the storm, the one who grounds us in a good way, not in the “You’re Amish now, give me everything with a screen and a charger” way.
I read your blog because you are refreshing and quirky. Don’t let the muggles get you down.
Oh yeah, I have no idea how you guys all survive down there with heat and humidity. I’d be peacing out so fast because I’m the biggest heat whimp ever.
I love “practice kid 2.0”. That is the best term I have heard in years.
This was a fun read!!  Makes me want to do one for my blog.  My eyes are mud brown.  When I was little, I was silently proud of having brown eyes because the only two peeps in my 7 member family that had brown eyes, were me and my mom.  But, as I’ve grown into an adult.  The novelty wore off and now I look at my hubby’s green eyes, or my sisters bright blue eyes and think, “Why me?”  Hubby loves my eyes and tells me often that they are warm, and comforting.  So, I have that to go back on.  One more thing, I get nervous when the windows are open in the spring/summer/fall because I’m a really silly person and do weird funny things with my voice when my hubby is home.  He has learned to do it back to me so if anyone were listening, I’d be deeply embarrassed for a nano second before I came to my senses and realized that if the listeners didn’t like it, they can cover their ears when they pass my house.  🙂
It’s funny to be silly and my community here loves confessions. They are always the most popular post of the month! We all want to see people as fellow odd humans I suppose.
Love your podcast and thanks so much for the comment.
Yesterday, after the 869th time yelling at my oldest son to stay on the grass and not in the gravel driveway where his toddler brother would follow, I had to yell… “get on the damn grass before I rip both your legs off and beat you to death with them!”…to which my mother (who mind you, was on speakerphone while I watched my kids play) was not impressed. she loves me, gets me, and knows me better than anyone, but really loathes my language and empty threats of violence. But they work so well!!!!!
We have had a HORRRRRIBLE stomach virus in our house cycling through everyone the last couple weeks, and it has been so bad, that I may or may not have actually shit my pants.Â
I have a china cabinet that someone gave my husband and I as a wedding “gift” – I’m putting “gift” in quotes because it was a family friend who was moving to Texas (we live in Michigan) and i know they just didn’t want to move the damn mammoth of a cabinet, so they pawned it off on us as a “family treasure” they wanted to pass on to us….blow it out your ass. But of course we took it, because I have mega Catholic-guilt. I have China in it that I’ve never used and probably will never use because I (like you) am the only female at our house, and who wants to come into a house with 1 husband, 2 boys, and 2 male dogs. Nuts/balls, farts, poop, fortnight, plants vs. zombies, legos, pokemon, minecraft, cars, trucks, racing, wrestling…blah blah blah.Â
I love the idea of entertaining, but when it comes down to the day/day before I becoming a raging megabitch to everyone I love.Â
I’ve let my kids watch Mr. Bean for an entire day straight, and now they think its hilarious to unzip their flies, and stick their fingers out them and wiggle them around – classy AF right?
Omg, ha Madison! Cracking up at that phone call.
You poor thing. I hope that tummy bug is gone as you all rebuild and gain some weight back. Those things are brutal.