Am I a mullet?

So I was in the waiting room of the Dentist office and there was a Newsweek and a People magazine on the table. They each had covers that caught my attention and I wanted to read both stories. I ended up reading both articles and I enjoyed each of them. The internal tug of war between these two vastly different periodicals made me question my personality and wonder who I really am. I've always tried to be true to myself but I have to admit that for most of my life I have struggled with deciding which of "myself's" to be true to. Do I have to pick one? Can't I have two "selfs"? If you look at my DVR you would probably be confused too. I have episodes of Oprah and Meet The Press right next to Jimmy Kimmel Live and Access Hollywood. I absolutley love classical music and deep thinking singer/songwriters but I'm not ashamed if you catch me singing along to a Backstreet Boys song in the grocery store (which in all honesty, I don't know how I remember the lyrics to those songs). I have read the full, unabridged version of Les Miserables with it's gazillion pages (authors in those days got paid by the word so yeah...they got a little wordy.) I enjoy those heavy, character driven stories as much as I enjoy reading about how much Bella is dazzled by Edward as he tries not to accidentally kill her.
I am a firm believer in the sanctity of marriage and commitment. It means more to me than most things in life....but ooohhh I love me some Bachelor and Bachelorette. (Maybe because it re-confirms how lucky I am in that department.)
I love independent films and artsy fartsy films. I love dramas and movies that make me think and evaluate my life and life in general. But I have seen and laughed at Dumb and Dumber more times than I can count and I can quote most of the lines from The Goonies and Three Amigos.
I so love going out to dinner but I couldn't care less if it's the roast beef from Carver's or an Arby's melt with curly fries.
I love to vacation. My favorite vacation spot is a black beach in Maui. My favorite memory of a vacation is of a dive motel in Ames, Iowa.
One of my most loved jackets is from Nordstrom's and my other favorite jacket is from Target.
I love to discuss the politics of Washington and wonder what Obama and Harry Reid will do next but I'm just as interested if Brad and Angelina will adopt another world baby or if Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer are going to sign a pre-nup.
I was as comfortable talking to a General Authority as I was to a single mother in a trailer park in Kansas. I like Tiramisu and I like Twinkies. I love Sushi but a tuna sandwich does it for me too. I love a beautiful pair of heels but flip flops are my best friend.
There's a constant fight between the elitist snob and the trailer trash girl.
So my question is this. Do I have to choose? Can't I be both? Maybe I'm snobby trailer trash. Does it make me two-faced or untrue to who I am? Can't I be a mullet? I like being business in the front, and a party in the back. Hey, it worked for Billy Ray Cyrus. My mom, myself, and my daughters all know who he is. My brother Todd thinks mulllets rock. My hope is that people will think of me and say that I am interesting and well rounded (not in the physical, chubby way..in the can go with the flow kind of way.) Okay, identity crisis averted.
So I bid you all a fond fairwell and say adeu until we speak again.....ttyl and rock on with your bad mullet selves.

What kids really think we do all day.

So I got this cute e-mail. The mommy in this picture sells shovels at Home Depot. The teacher thought the mommy was a pole dancer. It reminded me of a funny conversation I had with Makenna a while back. My day started early with the baby and getting kids off to school. I threw in a load of laundry and folded the load in the dryer. Then the little kids had breakfast and a bath. I took a minute to check my e-mail and then got in the shower. Off to the Dentist we go and then a quick trip to the store. I got home and cleaned out the junk drawer, (the random paper clips, dead batteries and countless pens with no ink had been haunting me in my sleep for weeks and it just had to be done). Next was a project for church and then another load of laundry. Made lunch for Ethan and Olivia and cleaned out the microwave. I paid some bills, cleaned the sinks and sewed on 2 buttons. Fed the baby. A quick vacuum job, a call to the neighbor and another bath for the baby (love those blow-outs) and it was off to the post office, the bank and time to pick up the kids from school. Homework time and a half-hearted attempt to clean their rooms ended with everyone either yelling (not me of course ;)), crying or lying about who's clothes were on the floor. I cleaned the fish bowl and tried to organize the hall closet but failed. One of the girls had a birthday party to get to and then it's time to start dinner. I watered the plants, ironed 3 shirts, a skirt and a pair of pants, and then fixed the bathroom clock. Fed the baby. Time to pick up from the birthday party and drop off to dance class. Yay!, dad's home." Hi, how are you?" "Good. You?" Mated some socks, cleaned up the spilled cereal, and put the head back on the barbie. Oh time to pick up from Dance. Dinner and dishes, fed the cat, undid the knots in four hair ribbons, and put a band-aid and a kiss on the latest injury. Emptied the garbages and fed the baby. Time to get ready for bed, (why does this always take an hour and a half longer than is necessary? It's like they hit this slow-motion time warp in the bathroom. Does it really take 8 1/2 minutes to brush your teeth?) As I head to tuck them into bed I put away 2 pairs of shoes, a scarf and about 7 matchbox cars. So I'm kissing goodnight and Makenna says to me, "Mom, when I grow up, I want to be a mom just like you." I was so pleased that this little girl appreciated all the things I did during the day and wanted to follow my example. Then she finished by saying, "You get to stay home and just do nothing."

A first time for everything.

You know when you tell someone that you'll never do something? I'll never sky-dive. I'll never pay that much for a pair of shoes. I'll never spank my kids. But deep in the back of your mind you knew you really would? So yeah, I said I would never have a blog. I fought it for a long time thinking that I just didn't have time for it. Then my 9 year old asked me what my grandparents were like. It made me a little more than sad when I realized it had only taken me about 4 minutes to relate to her the very limited memories I have of my grandparents. Granted I was 6 by the time 2 of them were gone and only 11 by the time the other two had passed. But I really would have loved to hear my Grandma talk about doing laundry in a bucket, or know if my Grandpa enjoyed being in the army. And then I was talking to my mother one day and asked her how she had dealt with one of the joys of motherhood and she said, "Oh I can't remember". I decided then and there that I should at least take a few moments every once in a while to record my thoughts and memories and ideas so that when the girls come to me one day and ask me how I felt about cleaning up throw-up in the middle of the night or how I felt when we elected a black president, or what the name of that cute boy with the freckles that sat by her in 3rd grade was ,(Zach) I'll say, let's go pull up the old blog and click on the barf/something amazing just happened/1st crush tags. They'll probably roll they're eyes at the idea of dealing with something so archaic as a blog, much the same way we do when we think of our parents living a normal life without a cell phone... or a cordless phone for that matter. But at least it will be something. And typing is so much faster for me than writing in a journal so...here we go.
For the 4 of you that may read this blog (thanks Mom, Melinda, Greg and Corbie) I hope you don't get too bored and that you don't think less of me as all of the voices in my head start speaking out loud.
So as I start this I'm thinking of the grandparents that I wish I knew better, the parents that I want to be like when I grow up, and the kids that might want to one day know the reasons why Mom ended up in the "special home" wearing the "special helmet".
Good Luck to all of us.

My Inspiration

"You will have significant experiences. I hope that you will write them down and keep a record of them, that you will read them from time to time and refresh your memory of these meaningful and significant things. Some of them may be funny. Some may be of significance only to you. Some of them may be sacred and quietly beautiful. Some may build one upon another until they represent a lifetime of special experience." ~President Gordon B. Hinckley