Give Kiera some love. She's bustin up this joint with tales of early 20's gone astray. Also? She just compared me to the little baby Jesus. Neal has proclaimed that I'm already impossible to live with...this will only escalate the situation. I can dig it, though. So, check out Kiera's post and then run straight over to Imperfect Daisies and follow her. She sometimes blogs about the *joys* of P90X AND she posts everything she eats on Binge Thursdays. What could be butter?....er...better? And I'm over there today, beating some sense into her hubs, Mr. Incredible. Apparently, he needs to be coerced to read her blog. Bleh! Men! (Oh wait, I don't real Neal's blog...hmm...but really....too many Mhz and KB for me. If he wrote about pink Uggs and cardamom cupcakes, I'd be all over that...like a shark on an open wound.) Enjoy!!
To preface: I do not want to be that person who starts his or her ‘speech’ saying, “while sitting down, thinking of what to say...” or, “commencement: the act (pause, look up) or instance (pause, look around) of commencing (purse lips, nod head); (clench fist) beginning.”
So here I am, up against (no, I know, blogging with) Allyson. Allyson of Magnolias and Mimosas. Seriously? Seriously. Imperfect Daisies. Think about these two titles. Imperfect- not perfect. Daisies- that flower that everyone knows and there about one million varieties of. Now think of this one: Magnolias (honestly when I think of Magnolias I think of ) are those beautiful, wonderful, anxiety ridding flowers. And we all know what Mimosas are, hmm? aka wake.up.and.drink. (lemme hear a helllllls yea...)
In a nutshell I’m like the drummer boy with no gifts to bear to baby Jesus. Allyson= baby Jesus.
However, I do see a speck of light in the tunnel. Since, as you, Dear Readers of M&M do not know, this week is Incredible Week over at my virtual place. Which means this week is dedicated solely to football, sports, beer, and football. And beer. Incredible? I think not! The truly Incredible part? I get to blog all of my imperfections on M&M today! (Rundown: trying to get my husband (Mr. Incredible) to read my blog. He only reads things that contain the aforementioned. His number one reason for not reading my blog: “it’s not funny because I live it.” ...I thought that’s why it is funny.)
The imperfection that I’ll be shamelessly happy to share with you today is my unpredictability. I am about as unpredictable as a tv with antennas. “It’s raining? It’s RAINING?” shut down. nap. “oh no you didn’t step in that corner of the room.” static.
And so the story goes.
In college, I partied. I partied like it was Nineteen Ninety Nine, baby. There are so many stories and so much blog space, but I won’t be that shameless ... Okay yes I will. Stats: I held a record at a frat for the longest keg stand; I’ve never been beaten in a chugging contest, including a football teams worth of chug; more than once I’ve fallen asleep in a bar to wake up and go to class in the morning; I may or may not have punched a few of my friends’ boyfriends; and Allyson, to answer your non existent question, I did wear a (pink mini) skirt to my 21st birthday party (fattest years of my life)(actually I think it was my 19th birthday, but I sure did act like it was my 21st). Oh, the glory days. So party hop 2 years ahead:
i’m pregnant. I’m Pregnant. I’M PREGNANT. !! I’m Pregnant! I’M TWENTY! I’m Twenty. i’m twenty. But I fell crazy. in. love. with this baby. (And was already in love with Mr. Incredible.) When I mean crazy, I mean crazy. I went crazy. I stopped talking to all my friends, suddenly went uncharacteristically holy, and stopped listening to music. No correlation. There was one time (20 times) I became fuming mad that Mr Incredible went out for drinks. I think I turned Amish for 10-18 months. I was equally as nuts after the baby was born. When she was approximately five days old I was sure she was crying because she was scared. I called her a newborn until she was ten months. True story.
Thank God Mr Incredible is more like Verizon Fios. Stuck with me through the storm. The flood.
Two more babies in and a few peaks on the graph, I’m finally evening out. I’m learning to deal with what’s thrown at me much better. I’m now more like the Weather Channel as opposed to licking your thumb and sticking it in the air.
Thank you to Allyson for having me on your blog today! What an honor.