There is a wagon. A raw, non-processed, healthy living wagon that was filled with carrots and homemade salsa (well, one time it was homemade), fresh tomato sauce, roasted veggies for dinner and snacks that included confusing words like flax-seed and wheat germ and green pepper.
And I have fallen off.
But, let’s be clear…that dang wagon was speeding. And it hit a bump…and then decided to drive down a road that my tax dollars were not fixing…potholes galore. And then it was all “I just want to drive fast and swerve to the left and right and do whatever it takes to make you fall off of me”.
It was the wagon’s fault. 100%. No questions asked. No other answer given. And the wagon KNOWS it was to blame. It wanted me to fall off. That feisty beast.
It has nothing, NOTHING, to do with me eating peanut m&m’s by the value pack/economy/family size bag. It has nothing to do with the cheese curds I consumed at the football game on Sunday. Or the waffle fries. And if you try for ONE SECOND to blame it on Hidden Valley Ranch or Tombstone pizza, so help me God, I will do something DRASTIC!
Like tell a lie. Which I never do.
Especially when it involves blaming my actions on pretend speeding wagons.
Moving on. Because I am tired of feeling your future judge-y eyes staring at my flabby m&m filled thighs through the screen.
#2. I found an old post written back in October of 2010. I wrote it about our adoption. And I must say, I want to high-five the old me. I had NO CLUE what I was getting into and yet that little baby mattered more to me than my own feelings of growing my family. I sound incredibly narcissistic, I know. Who high fives themselves two years later? But, I am due for some narcissism as I haven’t tweeted a self-portrait in never. Also, I just admitted to eating an entire bag of peanut m&m’s. In two days. Then went to walmart and got another bag. And that one is also gone (did I forget to mention that?). So, really, my self deprecating admittance of being forced to eat crap by a wagon cancels out my high-five. right? no? just me?
Finally, my last comment. I emailed our adoption agency today to see what place we were in line for our baby. I am hitting refresh every 13 seconds, so hopefully they have nothing better to do than reply to me. Actually, scratch that. I hope they are so busy finding homes for the kiddos in the orphanage that they don’t respond.
But, a tiny response would suffice. Like, “You are getting close” or “Only 5 away” or “Come on out to Ethiopia, we are ready for you” or “Leave me alone, I can tell you are hitting refresh you crazy mom”.
I will really take any of those responses.
Well, except the “Come on out to Ethiopia” one. I just need anough time to get a prescription for “knock me out so I have no idea I am flying internationally. over water. for hours on end. with multiple connections.” before I am ready to hear that one.