I have been a moody person lately. It's hitting me, at 36, that half my life might be over.
I could care less about a few wrinkles on my face. Well, I care a wee bit about my crows feet. I never did like birds. They poop on my car. Bird flu has taken its toll on more than a few babies and children. Big Bird is overrated. Fabio almost got his face pecked off by one. I can't even say the word 'woody' without giggling. The only fowl I like are chicken legs. Why couldn't they just call my eye lines that?
My point? I'm tired. And it gets me contemplating why we're all here. Yeah, yeah, most of you went through that in college, or your teens. You smoked pot, listened to Led Zeppelin, found religion, made hemp baskets and called it a day. Me? I was too busy getting knocked up by the wrong guy, getting married, getting divorced, breaking into tv, meeting the right guy, my show being canceled, popping out 2 kids then losing my dad. About two weeks ago on Tuesday I actually stopped running and had a moment to think about what life really means. I've come up with only one thing so far:
Then I go online and find the most beautiful post by One Tall Momma. http://onetallmomma.blogspot.com/
It's a tribute to 911 that is different than any you've seen. Check it out.
Other insights are offered by Mandy, who has an amazing review of child rearing books, many dealing with Christianity (that many of you know I am delving more deeply into.)
And then there are women like Teri and Meno and so many more who are just trying to raise their daughters, clean their offices and find their place in this little world without condoms floating into their docks.
Any other insights into what keeps you all moving forward in this crazy existence? And the response “Grow up you baby” isn’t helpful. I’m working on it.