I thought to myself as I was observing the pile of poopy underwear awaiting my attention tonight. Apparently, it is.
Almost 2 months ago, during my last sporadic post, I swore I was going to post one thing per day I was grateful for. Well....I don't actually remember writing that post, so I can't be held responsible for forgetting, right? And, anyway, I'm here now. Grateful for poop.
Now that I have your attention...
I know you are on the EDGE OF YOUR SEAT, wondering what the H*ll I am thinking.
I'm not really sure, if you must know.
I just know that when I was getting ready to throw myself a pity party over the 10 pair of undies I need to rinse and the fact that I had to clean nastiness off both my sons multiple times today in PUBLIC, I just felt like I should be grateful. That they had clothes to wear. Food to eat. A roof over our heads. A paycheck. Education. Family.
That I had them to clean poop off of.
I gotta tell ya, it's hard not to live in a pity party when your husband is half a world away and your'e the temporarily single mama of 5 little beans. Some days, I'm in the penthouse suite of the pity party. Other days, I'm SUPER HOMESCHOOLING FORMER MARINE TEACHER MOM, ready to leap piles of crap in a single bound, teach with my eyes closed and little people underfoot, whip up a dinner (not frozen...) and not shed a single tear or down a half bottle of wine to make it all better.
And, well, I guess I didn't want to turn 40. Well, I take that back. By the time it rolled around, I was actually pretty laid back. It was the 6 months leading up to it that had me in a tizzy. I know it's just a number. I know 40 is the new 30 . I know my kids will keep me young. I also know that there is SO MUCH I still want to do. SO MUCH I haven't finished. Guess I better get moving, since I'm apparently half dead now.
I celebrated in style...with old friends, little kids and some really great food.
So here's to turning a Fabulous 40. Kiss my grits, 39. 40 is WAY better.
Still kickin' it and crazy...