Forgetting

There are days when I forget.  I forget that I'm living the good life.


Stress about not doing enough, having enough or being enough get in my way.  And I forget.

Sure it's not for everybody, and that's okay.  

We are living the god damn special holiday episode of your favorite show pretty much every day.  The episode where things go wrong, life gets messy, but in the end (or on Christmas Eve) the character realizes what's really important. He or she realizes what it's all about.  


It's about family, friendships, relationships, loving, living, experiencing, feeling, going through it, getting through it.  And usually the episodes I watch have some funny in there too.


Here's a quick example of my good life last night. 
**warning** It might stress you out a little watching.  

I gave up watching Grey's Anatomy a few years ago.  It is still a good show, I just got tired of the very special, very violent episodes.  But of course being the pop culturalist that I am, I know when a big season finale is on and the fact that a character will die.  Even though I didn't commit to watching two hours of it,(spoiler alert) I did watch Lexie's death scene on YouTube.  


As she lay on the ground after the plane crash, she and McSteamy pledged their love for one another.  He talked about sharing a life together, the good life.  Marriage, kids, the whole thing.  And then she died and everybody cried, even me.


As I sat weeping in front of my computer, I thought that dream life they want, that so many people want, is my life.  


Does Hollywood dress it up and romanticize it a bit? Absolutely, holy hell yes.


But really, all we want is connection and love.  I've got that. A crazy, hectic, loud, messy (one of my kids friends said it was the messiest house he'd ever seen, whatever!), fun, real house full love and connection.


And for that I am grateful.


One of my favorite movie clips, from The Family Man, about being sure about what having it all means.  

Here's one of my favorite clips from happier times over on Grey's Anatomy.  Izzie and Alex getting married and the vows--my favorite wedding speech almost ever. Seriously, it's good.

My whole feeling of gratitude was not only inspired by Grey's Anatomy, but by a car I drove this week.  Yup.  And I wrote about it here at Patch. Click here to read it.

Pick me, choose me, love me

Christmas is over.  The kids are nestled all snug in their beds with visions of....okay I was going to try and write a cutesy thing, but I'm over it just like Christmas.  


It was good.  It was a long day--a day much like daylight savings time where you feel like it should be later than it is and you think "really we have six more hours until bedtime?" But it was good.


Some of the kids were very happy with the gifts Santa brought them.  

Baby Wade had a very Toy Story Christmas and he was in heaven.

One of them was a little disappointed and we couldn't blame it on Santa anymore.  He knows we are the lame parents that didn't buy him an iphone.  But c'mon, an iphone?  He is in fourth grade, it was never going to happen.


I was happy with my gifts the kids bought me at The Dollar General, for real.  I got a "fridge de-oderizer" and Lucy got me a wine glass.  Actually it is a wine goblet and I love it. 

I am drinking out of my fab new goblet as I type.

Is it bad that I got a wine goblet from my second grader?


Really for all my anxiety and melancholiness, Christmas eve and day went very smoothly.  I felt very grateful for my messy-haired, sloppy, sweet kids.  I felt grateful for my husband because he is pretty amazing.

And I want to thank each of you that reads this here wee little blog.  And thank you to the readers that keep coming back to read.


There are a lot of blogs out there.  Like I've said before, there are blogs that teach you how to craft or how to wow your guests at your next party.  There are blogs that teach you to cook.  There are blogs that teach you how to decorate a room or how to dress cooler.  But as you readers know, you will learn to do nothing from my blog.  


Except maybe, just maybe, you will feel a little bit saner. A little bit better about yourself. Or maybe, just maybe, you are like me (neurotic, anxious, a little raunchy, borderline depressed, hopeful, passionate, narcissistic, self-loathing, self-inflated, nutty, funny, happy), not perfect.  And now you feel less alone.


I've always been a writer--in my past working life in marketing and newspapers--but also just always.  A lot of times it was the only way I could express myself.  Even when I was very young.

Circa 1982. Age 7.

I've always been a little overdramatic too.


My whole point is thank you!  And since I am feeling a little post-Christmas neediness, I was wondering, er, um...this is awkward.  I was kinda hoping you might just, well, in the words of any neurotic's pop culture goddess Meredith Grey, "pick me, choose me, love me."


She says it better than me...

If you are still in the Christmas spirit and feel like throwing a little love my way, please follow or share the blog.


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And if you don't want to, that's cool.  I hope you keep reading and I thank you.