Well December was a kind of thoughtful month for me. I spent some time digging deep (I hope nobody finds that funny) when I was deciding what to blog about. And while it was fun and purifying, it made me emotionally tired. I’m kind of done with being all introspective for a bit I think. So this week I thought I would let you all in on a few confessions I have. I think it’s so fun to read other people’s confessions because it gives me a chance to see how funny life is, how much the same we all are in such little insane ways. So I put together a little list of some of the things that happen in my life on a regular basis that I find a little funny if not annoying. I hope you enjoy reading this and I hope also that some of you might take the time to write down some of your own confessions. It’s really fun to do and has really helped me to view the lighter side of life.
Sometimes I wear my pajama bottoms inside out because they always put the fuzzy part of the fabric on the outside: What’s up with that eh? It’s total false advertising too. Picture this: You’re browsing through a store, no real reason to be shopping. So as a default you decide to buy pajamas (we all know nobody actually goes to the store intending to buy pjs. They are totally ‘just happened’ purchases.) You’re looking at all the neatly folded piles of pj bottoms checking out the colours, trying to mentally sort the 17 other pairs you have at home so you don’t buy the same colour you already have. That would just be wasteful! You find some really cute ones with penguins standing on icebergs. Awww, and there are baby penguins JUMPING off the icebergs! They are so cute and so perfect and you totally don’t have that colour of blue yet! So if they are just as warm and cozy as the little penguins would suggest you will totally buy them and stay in tonight and watch a movie just so you can wear them! So what do you do? You take the pair off the top of that neatly folded pile and pet it softly at first to test the initial fuzziness. Then maybe with a little more force next time, you really want these to be the ones. Then of course if you’re shopping with your friend you do the whole “hey feel how soft these are”. And she does. So you’ve both pet and patted this neatly folded pair of pj bottoms and they are exactly everything you hoped they would be. You’re ready to make your purchase! Wonderful, except that you failed to do the one thing that would save you from your future pj drawer full of disappointment. And that thing is to rip apart that neatly folded bundle of happy and stick your arm right inside those puppies to feel what your thighs are REALLY getting! I don’t know about you, but if I have to shave my legs in order to comfortably enjoy a pair of ‘comfort pants’ I am so over that relationship.
If they really wanted people to know what they were actually getting they would fold those suckers inside-out and let the truth speak loud and clear. But they don’t. They fold them into this rubik’s cube of fluffy comfort so you have no CHANCE on earth of actually finding out what you’re buying before you sit down that night all scratchy-thighed and full of buyer’s remorse.
I am going to start a pajama company called “Happy Thighs” where all of my products will be intended to be worn inside-out and that will be cool, and normal and so comfortable. And now that I’ve posted this, if anyone of you steal this business idea I will sue you. You’ve been warned.
Sometimes I’m thankful I go to church for the simple fact that I would not have worn real clothes or put on actual makeup all week if not for Sunday.
One week back when Elias was in his first few months, (I think it was a Wednesday) I was blow-drying my hair in the morning and Abigail stormed into our room all huffy with her arms crossed and her face all screwed up. I turned off the blow-drier to ask what was wrong. I was expecting the usual “Noah hit me” or “Noah won’t share the couch”. But instead I got a “NO FAIR. I wanted to watch Spongebob today!” I was totally confused and unable to connect the dots on this one, so I said “Ookaaayyy, and why can’t you?” To which Abby replied “Because we have to go to church!” Then I said, “No honey it’s Wednesday, we don’t go to church today”. Her face immediately morphed into a surprised happiness as she then flippantly asked “Then why are you blow-drying your hair?” That was when I first realized my problem. It’s probably been 5 months since the incident and I’m a little ashamed to admit that I haven’t taken many steps towards a solution. Yeah, some weeks are better than others, but as a whole I’m averaging probably 3 out of 7 on a good week. And it’s not for lack of trying, But after a night of waking up 3 times for 3 different late-night emergencies, 6am comes way too fast and if I miss it, even by an hour, the day is here and there are mouths to feed and yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. Yeah these are excuses. I’m a bum and I know it. But let me tell you, if you go all week without makeup, when Sunday rolls around, you sure feel fancy. So balk if you want, but I’m grateful for all the blessings of the gospel and it just so happens that feeling fancy turns out to be one very satisfying one!
I am aware of and recognize the clever marketing ploys of our world, but still find myself extremely influenced towards their purpose.
I will explain this confession with two specific examples. I remember very distinctly how offended my senses used to be by the word spandex. Do you remember when spandex used to be what middle-aged women wore as they unnaturally swung their hips back and forth, power-walking their way down ‘suburbian’ sidewalks with those dumb little 1.5 lbs hand weights in tow? Spandex used to be fluorescently accented with greens and pinks and sometimes a zipper. I used to swear up and down that I would never, ever wear spandex. And after I was old enough to voice my opinion on wearing pre-pubescent matching legging/oversized t-shirt combos from Northern Getaway, I never again did… That was until someone, somewhere in ‘Advertismentopia’ started magically calling spandex ‘yoga wear’. That was when I was like, “hey, yah I totally want to look like I do yoga! Yoga is so cool! I could totally do yoga, I should buy the pants.” (And for the record, I tried it and I totally CAN’T do yoga). So I went out, and bought a pair of ‘yoga pants’. And somewhere in the back of my brain, the spandex center was wildly blasting a warning siren. But all I did was half acknowledge that I actually owned a pair of spandex pants, and then I turned my thoughts to yoga. So here I am as 25 year old me, owning various pairs of spandex pants and I’m totally ok with it now because I’m not calling it spandex anymore and neither are you.
Part two of this particular confession came to fruition on that magical day when Coca-Cola® took their famous Diet Coke® product and repackaged, reinvented and remarketed it as Coke Zero®. Those geniuses in the marketing divisions at Coca-Cola® headquarters took the exact product they already possessed and targeted the ‘zero-calorie’ wave that was sweeping its way across the continent. They fancied up the can, changed the name and captured a whole slew of faithful new customers without even having to come up with a new product. So smart on their part, so dumb (as a general consumer population) on ours. And I totally knew what they were doing. I realized exactly what was happening but still found myself asking at the drive-thru window if they carried Coke Zero® or just Diet Coke®. How ridiculous am I? I am sort of ashamed to admit that I am so knowingly influenced but at the same time I am totally ok with it as long as I’m sitting comfortably in my yoga pants with a Coke Zero® in hand.
I watch The Suite Life of Zack and Cody and/or The Suite Life: On Deck even though a) my children are too young to watch it, and b) I am too old to watch it.
There’s something about that pesky little Zack and his all too responsible brother Cody that I just can’t get enough of. It really is a magnificent show. And you know what? If
were a real person, I would so want to be her friend. She is funny. And as I write this I am realizing how horrible a confession this truly is. I may not be proud of it, but given the choice I would undoubtedly choose to watch The Suite Life over any medical drama out there. London
Ok there you go. That’s enough for today. I have confessed a few of the idiosyncrasies in my life. I’m sure I’m not alone on these. But on the off chance that I am and you think I’m weird, I would just like to point out that I also pay my taxes (well Mike pays them), I take my daughter to school and eat three square meals a day. I am actually normal I swear. Well except maybe for the Suite Life thing.
Ciao for now!
Love from the Willmotts