Oh, The hell with it

These words have been popping out of my mouth often lately. Can't get the lid off something, hell with it I'll get something else. Don't feel good enough to do anything with myself and leave the house, hell with it, we'll just play at home. Realize I have walked out of the house with a zip-up on that at some point the sleeve has met it's bitter end at the hands of my kids nose, hell with it, who cares what I look like.......I USED TO. What the hell is happening to me?! I have been having times more often lately that I actually long for the me I was before, maybe not to the extreme (wearing make-up every time I left the house), but caring enough to not leave the house every time looking like that frazzled chick that can't get it together.

I feel like I am being sucked in to a place where it's all frizzy hair and sweat pants, and I haven't even been putting up a fight. I'm thinking that going out and actually realizing how good it felt to be seen as desirable and not just seen as Lala's Mom. Or even just as a mom.

This is all stemming from several things, the more I write the more I realize (blogging is therapeutic). I have been in school since early February, and I have made friends with some of the most wonderful people I've met in a long time. Aside from all of my Bloggy people of course, y'all are the bomb. Anyway, in two of my classes there happens to be one of "those girls", two kids but has the body like she had none, fake boobies, dark hair, blue eyes, you know the one. She's beautiful and just a bit goofy so you really can't hate her her for being beautiful. There also happens to be a good looking guy in the class as well (if you go in for the whole frat guy look, which I find a total turn off), they look good together. My point, finally I know, is that sitting in class one day my new friends and I were commenting on how chummy (slightly inappropriately) they had been in the class the night before. Kind of ore than massaging if you catch my drift, to each his own though, if you can get away with it and don't mind an audience I guess (kind of skeeved me out). Anywho, one of the girls made the remark that "we" had nothing on the gorgeous girl. I think I may have gotten whiplash with the incredulous look I gave her. Did she just say we? I'm not a "we", am I? Aww shit, when did I let that happen? How could I let that happen?

I used to be very pretty, like if I wasn't so ridiculously panicky in front of people I actually had a few offers to model. Some legit, some not so much, you know how it goes. What I'm saying is that when I was young I was "That Girl" minus the kids, and I had no idea that I was her. Part of me wishes I had, the other part is really really glad I didn't and that I avoided the inevitable chaos. Point being, how do I get just a little closer to "that girl", is it even possible or has my hayday passed me by.

Any of you other mommies and daddies out there struggle with this? Maybe that's why people have mid-life crisis stuff, maybe I'm having mine early. Hmmmm......doe that mean I can act like a child and do whatever I like? Probably not.....oh well, was a nice try.

PS. Please don't forget to mail me your suggestions for "Word a Week". Yes Cari, I promise "Bahookie" will be in there. :-) Cause it makes me giggle too.