Friday, April 23, 2010
As I sit here typing-- I've just finished an application for a 4-week business course to help me focus on growing my business in this tough economy. I am also answering e-mails from customers, re-listing items in my online shop and noticing a spoiled-milk smell and realizing it's the baby spit-up on my shoulder since I didn't change my shirt because I started working as soon as I put him to bed.
I just love to be busy! If it were up to me I'd be running Metalicious, being the go-to-Mom at school, singing in an a cappella choir, running 4 miles a day, making a wholesome dinner for my family from locally sourced ingredients, impressing my Mother and Mother-in-Law twice a month by hosting them at a fancy tea wherein their grandsons perform Mozart on the grand piano we don't have, going out to dinner with my husband every other week looking as young and thin as I did the day we were married, and having a perfect hair day. every. day.
Instead I choose to be okay with the fact that my hair usually looks like this:
and my business is still small enough to run out of the corner of my bedroom:
and the fact that both of my 'Moms' really enjoy being around my kids even when they are crazy beasts,
and that every once in a while I get to be the hero and read a story or sing a song with my son's classmates,
and that my husband loves me in spite of my crazy hair, crazy kids and messy Metaliciousness all over our house (and the fact that I've never-really-lost-the-baby-weight).
What is my point? I guess I don't really have one. I have twenty. And they are all calling my name.