This week’s Divine Secrets of the Blah Blah Bloggerhood prompt is “Wish I knew then …” We are supposed to share our present wisdom with our younger self. I suppose in this case it would be easier to just perhaps write a letter to my daughter. I hold no regrets in my life. I believe each and every experience I have had in my life has shaped me into the exact person I am today. I am not flawless or perfect, I am most certainly a sarcastic asshole when the opportunity presents itself; I have learned some things that I hope I can share with my daughter (just as my mother did with me). However, I hope that unlike myself – she will listen and when that situation presents itself that relates to the advice I pass onto her … she uses it in a way that works for her.
Than I became bored because the Army took Daddy P. and I have no one here to piss me off besides the daily …”Kids don’t pick up after their fucking selves” hurricane. So, I played with water colors instead.
Today I remembered WHY I hid the watercolors from myself. See above – laziness. I leave my art supplies all over the place. Because what is the fucking point of putting it away if I’m going to keep working on it, right? I hate cleaning up and making a mess only to clean it up again. I’m a time-saver. Leave it a fucking mess. If you don’t like it … stay the hell out of my personal bubble space. Problem solved.
That’s all I’ve got for today. Well, aside from this guy. Daddy P. brought him.
Ms Pissey Pants calls him “Alphonsus” …. W.t.F?
Teaser Tuesdays is where you open your current read to a random page and share two sentences on the page.
“The interesting thing about dramatic change processes, such as those reported by Nigel and his instructor, are the different explanations that are possible to account for progress. Nigel had in mind one theory to explain his turnaround.”
~ p. 59, “Doing Good: Passion and Commitment for Helping Others” by Jeffery A. Kottler
This shit has gotten real and I have no complaints. I have a good life. By no means perfect or flawless… but, good. Aside from the unwavering temptation to throat punch Daddy P. when he does his hourly walk-by boobing or grab my thirteen year old and say “What the FUCK is wrong with you?” — I’m good. All is well in my world.
Okay – so there is a few things I would to discuss. One is PTPS. Not P.T.S.D. – Post Traumatic PREGNANCY Syndrome, most commonly known as motherhood. I’m not a single mom. Well, I am .. it just depends on the day and whether or not the Army has decided to capture Daddy P. and upset the order in my house. By upsetting the order things get rather chaotic. The kids loose their minds, the dogs eat shit they shouldn’t, everything stops working, I can’t find anything and well …. it’s Daddy P.’s fault (kind of, not really).