The silly things we do as kids.

I was in the kindergarten, and we were outdoors playing for recess, I remember needing to go to the bathroom really really badly, the urge got so strong that I decided to sit down on the concrete and relieve myself. 
All of a sudden, I looked down, and there was a round puddle circling my butt, I don’t know what I was thinking at that age… that the urine would be sucked up and somehow absorbed by the concrete, naw that didn’t happen.
Anyway, it seemed like almost immediately, a whistle was blown, and kids started lining up to go back inside the building, I knew that if I stood up, the other kids would see the puddle and put it all together naming me the pee pee girl.
I don’t know why I didn’t seek out an adult for help? No clue.
Not sure why that just came to my mind, but it did.
The silly things kids do.
Happy Thursday!

Monday morning thought

When your husband pulls up into the driveway and the kids are scrambling to put on their socks and straighten up.

First of all, my husband could care less about there being a mess in the house, he is one of the messiest people I know. 
I am the mama who likes a clean and organized home, but when I pull up into the driveway and walk in the house after a couple of hours the place is a wreck. 
Why is it that nobody is scrambling to clean up before I walk in the door.
Every now and again, I need to pull out my DMV card and set this place off and remind them who’s boss.

Ahhhh yes!

That ahhh moment when you finally get home and you release that headband from your head, you know the one, that one that snatches your face back, and tightly pulls every strand of hair located on your frontal lobe, making you look 7 years younger. 
You endure the hardship all day long because no matter how excruciating the pain, you’re looking mighty cute and snatched for the day.
And let’s not even talk about finally taking off that uncomfortable bra after a 12 hour day.


I am sick and tired of having to watch what I eat in order to lose weight or maintain my weight loss. 

Maybe I’ll just give it all up, and come to grips with being a chic chunky girl all my life. 

It’s time to admit that the old chick I used to be, size 28 waist, Coca-Cola bottle shape, Brickhouse, Michelle Obama guns, has packed up and moved away forever. 

It’s all about being happy right?
I just want to be able to open up the refrigerator, snack cabinet, and consume whatever the heck my heart desires.
Ahhh chunky girl problems. It never ends.