There’s nothing wrong with being a lemming. Without further ado, my homage to Angela Pudding.

Forgiving Myself x 10

I forgive myself for backing up into that pole last week and bruising my car.

I forgive myself for not working as hard at parenting as I do at working with my students.

I forgive myself for not knowing all the words to Paradise By The Dashboard Light.

I forgive myself for getting a retainer and then failing to follow through with all my appointments.

I forgive myself for not opening a Christmas Club account. Ever.

I forgive myself for failing to take a daily vitamin.

I forgive myself for leaving clean laundry in the basket and not even attempting to put it in the drawer.

I forgive myself for laughing inappropriately when my friend Rick’s clavicle bone popped out of his chest while we were sledding when I was in high school.

I forgive myself for always wanting to be the center of attention.

I forgive myself for spending 10+ hours this week looking at stuff online at Pottery Barn and thinking I can actually afford Pottery Barn.

Don’t you hate it when you have your mouth set on something and you get to the counter at your coffee shop and they ask, “Would you like to try the Peppermint Mocha today?” and your brain is suddenly scrambled and you sputter for a moment before agreeing to it? I hate that, too. But I love it when I try it and my mouth is having a party and I’m grateful that they talked me into it.

My post for Flawed But Authentic is up.

You may not feel like the melancholy flavor over there so here is something a little more a-ha ha, o-ho ho and a couple of la-di-das for you.

At dinner tonight Mason and I were discussing his classes and he said that he likes his consumers ed class.

It’s not CONSUMERS with an S. It’s not plural. It’s CONSUMER ED.

Yes, it is Mom. It’s CONSUMERS. Because there are lots of them. Lots of people who CONSUME.

Honest to God, kid. What are you learning? Have I not taught you well enough? It’s CONSUMER ED.

Ok. It’s like you don’t know anything. Next semester I’m taking PHYSICALS ED. 

I missed an episode of Pushing Daisies so I watched it online today and it has one of my favorite lines lately. Also, it’s Sunday and I’m still sick and don’t feel like writing a whole entire post.

Totally the pansy way out, I know this.

Everything we do is a choice
Oatmeal or cereal?
Highway or side streets?
Kiss her or keep her?
We make choices and we live with the consequences
If someone gets hurt along the way we ask for forgiveness
It’s the best anyone can do

The writing prompt from Sunday Scribblings this week could not have come at a better time. Instantly a gajillion and seven things came to mind but I would hate to do bullet points for that amount of things I carry. Plus, I’d be extremely depressed after writing down everything I carry. Therefore, the challenge for this exercise is not to sound like a martyr and balance that with believing that the burdens or things I carry aren’t so heavy that I want to lie down in front of a moving dump truck.

I carry…

The history of the lives of my children and the hope that in their eyes I can see my own past.

I carry…

The suffering of the middle child syndrome and the empathy for every middle child I meet.

I carry…

Not being black enough or white enough and trying to fit in or make my own place.

I carry…

The burden of the impoverished and ignorant and the hope that I can offer something.

I carry…

The dreams of a girl who wanted so much that she can no longer remember what they were.

I carry…

The tiniest piece of bitterness for people who’ve abandoned me.

I carry…

The Common Sense of the knowledge that bitterness only hurts me in the end.

I carry…

Longings for the lives of those who seem to have it all and the matching suitcase of Guilt that accompanies it.

I carry…

A lively spirit and a forgiving heart that has to be trained and protected from former bruises.

I carry…

A tender love and fascination for the fragility and complexity of life.