This is 44.

Hello, mirror. 

It’s time to put my year of 43 to an end. 

You’ve been my most honest friend. 

But this year, I’m going to listen to you less. 

Because I’ve reached an age where I make decisions better than I ever have before and, yes, I can leave my house a total, hot mess. 

It’s true that gray hairs have colonized on my planet-sized head and even if I tried to get rid of them up above, they will show up in droves down below instead. Aches in my back as I rise out of bed. All those trips to the bathrooms that I dread…

 but…

…so it goes when you get older, bolder, wiser, know-ier. Using words you make up because you can. Making the rules up as the years pass because you can. 

You earned it, in grey hairs and hemmoroids. 
So what if wear Ugg boots and beanies like I’m in my twenties? Fuck you, I’m in my forties. I’m not doing it to make boys my toys. 

Uggs are COMFY, DAMMIT!!! 

So, mirror, your opinion isn’t shit anymore. 

I got this. I’m the woman covered in walking confidence on the dance floor. I’m cool. I’m fly. 

This is 44.

I’m why people want to be old school. 
t.r.m. 



As This First Month of 2016 Ends…

I make goals all year long and then forget them and drown my failures in red wine, like a normal human being. I get excited when I save $10. Then I blow it once a I walk into a Target. 

But I am determined to follow through with a few plans I have for 2016 so as January comes to a close, I think I’ll parallel my goals with some shows I’m watching on Netflix. 

  

To get motivated to save more/make more money this year, I’ll watch Narcos (I’ll just keep out the whole drug and killing thing)
To get inspired to write more content, I’ll watch the last season of Orange Is The New Black and remember what Crazy Eyes did. She gained a huge readership and all inside the same building. With no social media!!

  
I’ll watch The Great Bake Off and use the episodes as a kick in the butt to get my baking on!

  
Spending more time with family involves watching The Croods. This wasn’t hard to do since our family was a huge fan of the movie!! Netflix’s new animated show gives a preview of life before the movie. 

To reward myself for a job well done, I’ll binge watch something exciting after the kids have gone to bed. I finished Making a Murderer (but I heard they have some more episodes in the works!) and have moved on to How To Plan A Murder. I promise I have no goals connected to either one of these shows!! 

If you have a goal for this year, I’d love to hear it! (And if it a goal to start watch a new show, what show is it??) 

t.r.m. 
Blogger’s Note: As a part of Netflix’s Stream Team, I watch and recommend shows to you and your family. 

  

I Don’t Need To Win The Powerball Lottery. 

It seems like we go through this same thing every beginning of the new year. People are walking around hyped on adrenaline with their “I’m gonna be thinner/healthier/frugal/the change I want to see in the mirror FINALLY!” plans. 
…and suddenly, those plans include being rich. Because the Powerball lottery is at a whopping more than 999 million dollars! 

So, millions upon millions of people have taken their dollars, that used to a part of their savings or it’s their weekly food allowance or it’s just their Starbucks money, and purchased a chance to be part of a dream. A dream to be the same person they are, but with truckloads of cash making them uber-rich. 

This cash that will solve all their problems. The lottery won’t change the winner. It just means that they will have no more debt, no more renting a place to live, no more money problems at all. 

Enough money in a fund to put their children through school. To put themselves through school. To buy a yacht. To buy a school to learn how to drive a yacht. 

It’s a pretty, good dream. And I’m not going to balk at it. In fact, I’m playing too. 

Yes, I bought a ticket but no, I don’t need to win. 

I look at my life and the things that I have and sometimes, I make wishes on stars. There are many things that I want

I want a beautiful home that I own. Right now, I have a beautiful home that I rent. That works for me as my husband and I save up money to go toward owning our current residence. 

I want a never ending food supply. Sure, there are days in the week that we are out of milk and eat pasta more frequently than other times. But we are eating and we are together. Besides, I like pasta. 

I want my kids to have clothes whenever they need them. We go a bit longer before they get a new pair of sneaks. They eventually get what they need and we try to donate gently used items as often as we can. 

I want to be healthy and live a long life. No amount of money can guarantee that will actually happen. 

I want to be less anxious about money during the time to pay bills. Yes, a winning lottery ticket could ease this burden but it can not take away my anxiety. Truthfully, it may only heighten it. Think you aren’t going to hear from family and “friends” once your winnings become public knowledge? 

There are many things that I need…but winning the Powerball isn’t at the top of my list. I need to see poverty decrease. I need to see my kids grow up. I need to know that my mom is okay. I need to keep my new job. I need to see a news report that doesn’t include a beheading or bombing or mass shooting. 

I would like to win the Powerball but I do not need to win. 

I have what I need. 

t.r.m. 

The Not So Sudden Overtaking of My 7 Year Old’s Mind.

I look at my little boy and think to myself how much he has grown. My mind is constantly flooded with images of my little boy as he discovered the world around him *big sigh* 

Nope, he is not 3 anymore. 

It seems that reality hit my face like a cream pie during the holiday break. My son, my sweet boy, approached me with tears in his eyes. 

Mom, I’m thinking about inappropriate things. My brain keeps saying stuff and I know it’s not okay. 

Now, my first thought upon hearing his words were thoughts of hurting others..or worse. I cringed at the idea of what his answer might be to my next question…

Inappropriate things? Like hurting people??

No, Mom, geez. Like stuff about boys and girls.

Oh, thank GOD! 

I’ve been thinking these things for a while, Mom.  Am I in trouble?!? 

Before I continue with how our conversation went, I must communicate to you, dear reader, a little back story connected to this situation. When CP was 4, we caught him watching videos on YouTube of women with no clothes on. It was an accidental occurrence. The videos he was watching led him to stuff he shouldn’t watch. This sparked a serious conversation that led to firm voices from us and tears from him. As I look back on that incident, I can see why he thinks he would be in trouble now. 

But 4 years old is not 7 years old. 

His level of maturity has changed, not by miles but by millimeters. Still… 

He goes on to tell me that when he sees a girl on TV he thinks they are “H” or “S”. H is for hot. S for sexy. He doesn’t even want to say the words out loud. 

My head tells me not to think things. But it tells me to think things too. I think Raven is “S”. 

Raven. From Teen Titans Go. Really? Not Starfire?!? 

Mom!! This isn’t funny!

I disagree. It’s a little bit funny. 

After a long talk about boys and girls and finding people (and cartoon characters) attractive, I told him that all of this is a part of growing up. It’s perfectly natural and when he chooses to talk to me or Dad, we will always listen. It’s okay to think about people in that way but it’s not okay to act upon it, like touching someone in their private places.

Most importantly, he isn’t in trouble. At all. 

After a bit of cuddles and I love yous, he pulls away and takes the blanket I’m using and places it over my body.

New rule: You need to wear clothes that cover your “B”s, Mom. 

Awwww…. *smiley face* 

Wait a minute… 

t.r.m. 

When You Are Stuck Between the Christmas Rock and a New Year’s Hard Place. 

I don’t even know what to do with myself at this moment. 

It’s 6pm on Monday the 28th. My daughter has cuddled up next to me as I jot down the honest empty in my head. Christmas showed up the day after the 1st of December by my time measure and I’m only positive that it’s Monday because I opened my calendar app. 

I’m lost. I’m still living on Holiday time. 

I cleaned my kitchen twice. Twice. You’d never know it though because of the amount of cookies, gift boxes of assorted chocolates and gingerbread houses that are still laid out on the counters, ready for the next visitor that might walk through my front door. 

 
The Christmas decorations that are in every nook and cranny of our household are screaming at me. It’s a holidayclutterfucktoad of festivity and joy. 

I really need to put this shit away. It’s time. Or is it? Do I put it all away now or wait until after New Year’s?? My procrastination button is located on my butt and since I’m sitting on the couch, it looks like it’s going to be after New Year’s. My OCD will have a few words for me before then. 

And then there’s the new stuff in our house. Believe or not, my kids have put their gifts in their rooms. What is left is items that my husband and I received, unwrapped items that I have no idea where I going to put them. 

Cleaning seems fruitless. Cleaning seems necessary. I had the gumption to get out the vacuum and fill up the empty bins today. It didn’t happen. Instead, I cuddled with my kids, made split pea soup and watched Netflix.  I feel guilty but not a whole lotta guilty. Mostly, I feel stuck. The Christmas rock is over there, the New Year’s hard place over here. Me, in the middle…eating split pea soup. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be more productive. 

Damn, this soup is good. 

t.r.m.