Oh, Internet... Quit making me be so serious.

You know, we all are flawed people.  There is no such thing as a perfect human being; we may have been made in His image, but He also granted us free will, therein allowing us to screw up all over the place.  Learn something, humans!  Yeah, about that...

I can pinpoint the minute my self-esteem took a nose-dive. I was in fifth grade. My Violet is in the fifth grade. Don't think I don't stare at that pink elephant every day. I do. And I'm trying my damnedest to make sure that that girl knows her self-worth.  Luckily for her, being a member of this society, she is thin, and absolutely beautiful. I was chubby with bad hair, not great clothes, and I was the new kid at school. May I remind you that Kelly rhymes with jelly and belly? Hence, the little masons inside started bricking up those walls at lightening speed, starting at age TEN.

I look at photos of myself at age 17 and wonder why I hated myself so much. I look at me now, and my flaws and imperfections - they're ME.  This body has walked an unknown number of miles, brought life into this world, danced, ran through sprinklers, felt the power of a horse beneath it - how quick we are to call babies miracles, yet forget that we are walking ones ourselves?

Learning to find the beauty in ourselves for those of us who truly don't believe the compliments we've been/are given is a daunting task - like trying to climb up an icy hill with high heels on.  Over the past few days, at the age of 35, I've realized the skies are finally parting for me and I'm finally starting to get it.  Starting to truly understand that I am a person who deserves to be happy and to be proud of herself and to not get all Stuart Smalley on y'all, but dammit, I am good people.  I have an amazing family who raised me right, yet despite that, in my 20s, I got dealt a pile of shit. But now? I am going to slam these bones down and yell, "DOMINO, MOTHERFUCKER!", because for the first time in my life, I feel how I've wanted to feel for years - strong, determined, loved, able, and willing - not meek, tattered, and broken. These demons will be exorcised.

I think I just had a Towanda moment.  I am in need of a viking helmet.

Self-love. And not the kind that you're thinking of. Pervert.

Okay, so it's Valentine's Day.  Yahoo?  And being the scattered mom that I am, it appears I'm raising scattered kids, because we both forgot to make amazing Valentines go to Target and buy some amazing Valentines for her class.  Derp?  Yes.  So we'll go tonight and say oops, and she can hand them out tomorrow.  Day late = story of my life.  I highly doubt the world will stop spinning because we forgot valentines.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with my thoughts for today, but I felt I needed to share it, because it was probably the least stupid thing I've done in a while.  Fact.

I was thinking to myself this morning, "Self? Why is it that you don't think you are as fantastic as your dogs and toddler do?"  I assume they think I'm fantastic because none of them this week can get close enough to me without surgical attachment. Either I'm really fucking fabulous, or it's because I feed them.  One or the other.

Unconditional love appears to be so easy for small children and animals.  I say small children, because as you know, I live with a preteen, and don't lie to yourself - their love is TOTALLY conditional.  I don't think I need to provide examples, just think back to when you were in 5th/6th grade and how you felt about your parents. See?  Toldja.  I really don't want to talk much more about animals, because then you know fucking Sarah McLachlan will show up on TV and:

Seriously.  I can't listen to that fucking song without wanting to go adopt ninety bazillion dogs. And then since I can't, I feel like the world's biggest asshole for not.  Fuck you, Sarah.  I bet you only have one dog.  I have two.  I win.

Before I digress even further, I just want to say that I think Valentine's Day is stupid.  If you don't care enough to tell the people you love you love them more than once a year, you should get a big fuck off because you're an asshole, plain and simple.  So, since I try to make a point to tell the people in my life how much they mean to me as often as possible, I'm going to take Valentine's Day to take care of me, because no matter what my demons say, I'm a good person - I kind of have to be, otherwise I wouldn't have so many kick ass people in my life.  And when I say take care of me, it will be in the five minutes I have to spare after the house is clean, kids are fed and bathed, dogs are fed and bathed, dinner is made, cleaned up, and put away, and... okay.  Maybe it won't happen today.  But it will, dammit.  It will.  ;)

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.  Don't forget to take care of yourself while you're taking care of everyone else.  Because you know you are.

As if the new CROP of gray hairs wasn't enough...

Okay, so Happy New Year, resolution time, blah blah whatever - I took a challenge to be healthier.  I figured if it was something I had to fork over a little bit of cash for and I get a t-shirt (YESSSS!), I'm in.  So I have committed to 120 minutes of exercise per week, and some other little goodies (if you want to check it out, you can at http://dolifemovement.com.  It's a way to get healthier both physically and mentally, and who doesn't need that at any time of the year, right?  Right.

Anyway, I think I've mentioned before that exercise and I are not friends, hence the size of my heiney.  I've never gotten the OMGTHEENDORPHINSILOVETOWORKOUTZOMG crap that people "talk" about.  I say "talk" because I think they're full of shit, and that feeling is the dizzies you get right before you pass out.  But now that I'm a parent, and a role model (I still choke a little bit trying to say that), I need to get my proverbial shit together so that my kids don't become molded to the couch with playstation controllers stuck to their grubby little hands.

That being said, I've exercised four days in a row, and this is what I've learned:

1. It's not that bad if you can something you can tolerate.  I don't mind the stationary bike, because I can read at the same time.  I don't mind the treadmill, because I can catch up on the ol' DVR while doing that.  Kind of.  I'm not the best at multitasking in that way, but I need more than music to focus on while putting myself through this torture working on a better me.
2. I freaking REEK.  I really need to cut down on the amount of garlic I cook with.  Holy shit.
3. I. Am. Old.  As in, I'm pretty sure my muscles have atrophied in certain spots.  I attempted yoga last night, and I think I dislocated a hip.

So, if you're looking for me today, you'll find me in the recliner, with ice packs on my hips, abs, and shoulders - actually, I'll just fill the bathtub with ice and be in there.  With my laptop, shopping for a walk-in bathtub, a home-health aide, and ordering reading glasses, denture adhesive, and a bunch of polyester and elastic so I can start making my age-appropriate pants.

Happy Friday. :)