Recently, I posted on my facebook page that I would be stepping out of my comfort zone and entering a few photos in a photo contest at a local gallery. I am not a professional photographer. I take my pictures using my iPhone and various photo apps. I like to take pictures. I'm a picture hoarder. Do I think my photos are the cats meow? No. I think I like them and honestly, when it comes to my photos that's all that matters. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I am beholding my photos. (Yeah. I don't know what that's suppose to mean, if anything. I just felt like saying it)
SO, let's recap. I've shared the fact that I am not comfortable with putting myself out there, which is strange since I put myself out there on facebook and on here. I've stepped outside of my comfort zone, something that I promised to do more of in the new year.
Side note... when will 2013 stop being the NEW YEAR? Can I stop saying "New Year" yet? Ok. Moving along.
My wonderful cousin, who has been such a great role model to me... mother of the year, best friend of the year and wife of the year... You name it and I think she's won the award or deserves it...well, anyway she suggested that we form a group and support each other as we tackle things that are out of our comfort zone, hence the title of this post Out Of The Zone...OOTZ.
Are you the type of person that stays within your safe compartment, afraid to step out for whatever reason? Maybe there's something you've been dying to do but just can't find the courage. Well, this is the group for you. From time to time throughout the year I will post a new challenge. I want you to take part even if it's something you think you're comfortable with because you may think that you're alright with something until you do it. I thought I was alright with sharing my writing projects with someone and then found out that it scared me to the point where I couldn't sleep.
OK. So, our first task is going to be a baby step. Or at least to me. We're going to try a food that we haven't had but want to have but haven't had the courage to try. That was too many buts, but... if you've already tried lamb then find something that you haven't tried and try it because LAMB is our food to try. I don't care if you cook it or order it at a restaurant. I am cooking my lamb. It will probably be one of those things that I do while the kids are in school. A lunch for one. I'll share my recipe if that's the case. I'll be checking in with a progress report and please feel free to chime in and share your thoughts. I do look forward to hearing from you. If you would like to add a task to tackle then please share that too!
Let's do this!
This is my life. Mistakes and all. I laugh. I cry.....more than I should. I stumble through this craziness learning valuable lessons along the way. Hoping to inspire or at least make a few people shake thier heads and wonder who my parents are.
Me being Mom
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
They smell
This is going to be one of those posts where you say to yourself, "What the hell was that all about" and in the end I will tell you so don't get your panties in a bunch half way through. This is probably something you don't want to hear but I'm going to share anyway because I think Moms of little ones, boys in particular, will appreciate it.
When my boys were little I realized that they had this smell to them. It was sweaty socks, potato chips and dirt all mixed together. I tried to mask it when people came to visit, I lit candles and sprayed air freshner. But, I learned to love that smell, call me crazy but I did. It's the truth. Fabreeze only masked the scent and after a while I just stopped trying to cover it up because I realized that it made me feel good. As long as my house smelled like my little boys that meant I was still blessed and nobody had taken them from me yet because I left them standing in the driveway that time. Yeah. I did it. Shoot me. I came back. What do you want from me?
So, anyway, the boys haven't been little in a long time. My youngest is damn near six foot tall and the oldest is right there with him. Did I mention they are sixteen and seventeen? I know! I was five when I had them.
The holidays are over and they have come home from a visit with their dad. They always show up when I have the house smelling like bleach and Mom, you know that smell. It's pot roast, cookies and fabric softener. No sign of boy at all. But as they started to unpack I realized that they didn't bring that little boy scent with them. Hang on... I need a Kleenex.
Ok. I'm alright. Where did that little boy scent go? Now it smells like hot sauce, axe body spray and sweaty socks. It's a manly smell and no matter how many scented candles and bags of potato chips I open I can't get that little boy smell back.
I want that smell back.
I can't have it though. So, in a few years they'll be moved out and I'll be left with my Mom smell again and when they visit and bring all of their dirty laundry I'll be the freak standing at the washer, crying with my face buried in one of their shirts, sniffing as if it belongs to Tom Hardy.
My point is, stop spraying fabreeze and lighting your scented candles because there is no better smell than little boy.
When my boys were little I realized that they had this smell to them. It was sweaty socks, potato chips and dirt all mixed together. I tried to mask it when people came to visit, I lit candles and sprayed air freshner. But, I learned to love that smell, call me crazy but I did. It's the truth. Fabreeze only masked the scent and after a while I just stopped trying to cover it up because I realized that it made me feel good. As long as my house smelled like my little boys that meant I was still blessed and nobody had taken them from me yet because I left them standing in the driveway that time. Yeah. I did it. Shoot me. I came back. What do you want from me?
So, anyway, the boys haven't been little in a long time. My youngest is damn near six foot tall and the oldest is right there with him. Did I mention they are sixteen and seventeen? I know! I was five when I had them.
I made the fancy vest... |
Ok. I'm alright. Where did that little boy scent go? Now it smells like hot sauce, axe body spray and sweaty socks. It's a manly smell and no matter how many scented candles and bags of potato chips I open I can't get that little boy smell back.
I want that smell back.
I can't have it though. So, in a few years they'll be moved out and I'll be left with my Mom smell again and when they visit and bring all of their dirty laundry I'll be the freak standing at the washer, crying with my face buried in one of their shirts, sniffing as if it belongs to Tom Hardy.
My point is, stop spraying fabreeze and lighting your scented candles because there is no better smell than little boy.
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