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Amanda ~ Composer from an Itty-Bitty Living Space

You can take the girl our of Vermont but you can’t take the Vermont out of the Girl

 

My Mommy Hung the Moon…and then I threw spaghetti at it.

I read that book just about every night, not the spaghetti part mind you. “My mommy hung the moon. She tied it with string. My mommies good at everything.” Yeah, well sorry Jamie Lee Curtis, but you live in a delusional world. I can barely get the kid to drink milk (kids are supposed to like milk, aren’t they???) and when the moon comes up? It’s lights out time kiddo!!!! Sorry, don’t get too attached.

Here’s the thing, I am a single-ish mama as far as being a non-married, and non-traditional mother is concerned. I have an amazing support system and someone I could spend every waking minute with, but that being said, day in and day out…I am the mom.

Obviously the mother clan knows what it means to have had a baby. Exhaustion. Fat where it wasn’t before. Exhaustion. Dark circles under your eyes. Exhaustion. Flabby arms, aka bingo wings…need I say more? Oh yeah, and lets not forget: Exhaustion. To top off the exhaustion, lets add some throw-up, boogers, blood, tangled hair, crusted on food and then lets bring it right back home to EXHAUSTION. It’s like nothing I have ever felt before in my entire life. I’ve pulled all-nighters, both for fun and for not so fun reasons. I’ve driven hours on end and sat through countless boring and ridiculous meetings. Nothing a little caffeine and exercise couldn’t fix. This folks, is sheer and irreparable exhaustion.

Yep, you read that right. I used to exercise. Now, I chase little legs, shoo tiny feet from standing on furniture, dry tears, and clean up spills. Not the typical form of exercise, but who’s counting? So, since chasing little bean is masquerading as exercise I figure I will insert some dieting. I figure, I did it once I can do it again! So then came the gluten-free attempt. Who am I trying to kid?!?!?! That is absurd. First of all, every kid snack basically known to man has gluten in it. Goldfish? Yes please. With my kids, it’s like I’m the parrot in Aladdin, and I’m getting crackers shoved in my face even though my mouth is clamped tight and I am shaking my head “no” vigorously…What was that parrots name again? Doesn’t matter. Basically, little bean foiled most of my GF plans!!! Easier to lay blame there then on the fact that I essentially have zero will power and cannot fathom a day without my blessed bowties, carbs in the form of bread and salty thin little crackers that scream of falling directly from heaven. I wish I could tell you that I would keep you posted with delicious recipes that little bean devoured and I couldn’t live without; recipes that kept me motivated to stick with a challenging diet, you know the type. Honestly though, I don’t even know what day it is so I just can’t be that girl for you.

Even my e-reader taunts me!!!

 

I don’t do coffee, so the exhaustion tends to just settle in my bones and is the driving force behind every mistake I make on a daily basis. The other day, I walked into the grocery store, filled my cart, went to the register and yep, you guessed it…NO WALLET!!! Of all things. So little bean and I parked our cart, lost a shoe, stopped to re-attach said shoe, which led to a minor meltdown, walked to the car, found said wallet, retrieved our parked cart and proceeded to check out with red cheeks and the speed of a gazelle bagging groceries. Get me the H. E. double hockey sticks out of here!!!! Yikes.

So, this is the story of me. The story of forgetting what the parrots name is because really…my brain just cannot fathom trying to remember such a thing. This is the story of hating coffee but essentially needing an IV of the stuff… Of remembering my own sippy cups and training bras, but reveling in the world of doing it all over again from an entirely different perspective. Here we go…time to find some string to re-attach the moon. It’s crooked.

 

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