Getting On with the Hot Mess

I am a mere week from my birthday.  And in the seven seconds I have for introspection during the day, I have realized that I have been spending way too much time fretting, sighing, worrying and groaning.

He spent - we all spent - the WHOLE weekend at, or en route to, a soccer game.  But we all survived!  Even me!  And he kicked the winning goal of the tournament!  (I think that's what I saw?)

And just not having fun.  Now that is the definition of insanity:  having an arse hat of kids and then not enjoying your life at all.

And he won HIS tournament too!  I can take ZERO credit - genetic or otherwise.

Cheekbones are way overrated.

It doesn't matter how clean or organized the house is.  It doesn't matter that I may never lose this flabby tummy that flaps in the merest breeze.  It doesn't matter that I don't have time to write, or that I may never have a writing "career" - or any career.

A rare moment of quiet and introspection.

So my resolution for my 30-nth birthday is to simply enjoy this whole hot mess of yelling, unknown banging, carpet stains, intermittent sleep and frequent expulsion of bodily fluids.

I don't think I know how much fun I'm having.

Soccer practice was skipped - yay!  Something called pumpkin football ensued.

Touchdown?

What a burden liftted.

***

Now more important than all that mushy hogwash:  THIS SALE starts Thursday.

It is on All Saint's Day, which is for us Catholics a Holy Day of Obligation.  

Shopping and praying - my two great vocations.