I confess…In the car this morning, I couldn’t find my cell phone. My first thought was “I’ll just call Marty to see if I left my cell at home.” Oh, yeah…if I had a phone…
I confess…I need a back-up cell phone or a clapper to help me locate said lost phone.
I confess…I reached for missing cell phone (for various reasons) at least 20 times while driving to work this morning.
On being fashionable
I confess…I went shopping to update my fall wardrobe. I was styling in my new shirt Thursday morning until I went over railroad tracks and spilled coffee all over it.
I confess…I wore a cute dress to work this week. While wearing cute dress, I inadvertently see a colleague’s phone who just received a text sent by another colleague in the room: “Is Melissa pregnant?” Ouch. Guess this cute dress makes me look like a cute pregnant woman.
On being blonde
I confess…On the same morning I wore the cute dress to work, I forgot to put on deodorant. Apparently, I appeared to be a smelly, pregnant woman.
I confess…I was shocked when I saw a Sara Lee van this week with the slogan, “Nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee.” I always thought they were saying, “Nobody does IT like Sara Lee.”
I confess…I have picked up a new annoying habit—saying “Sure” to indicate agreement. At least I am not saying, “totally,” right?
I confess…I have lost my blogging mojo. While I haven’t been actually writing and responding lately, I have lots of ideas for posts—just not enough time, energy, and motivation to write them.
I confess…I lost a blog follower this week, and I felt strangely wounded. Kind of like when I lose a friend on Facebook and can’t figure out who it was…Please tell me, “It not you; it’s me…”
I confess…I also feel similar rejection when I follow and/or comment on other blogs numerous times with no sign of acknowledgement. Did I forget my online deodorant? Did I invade your online personal space? Do I give off scary stalker vibes? Do I have virtual cooties? Please tell me, “It’s not you; it’s me…”
I confess… I feel like a bad mom when the morning daycare teacher says, “Well, we haven’t seen you in a while.”
I confess…I feel like a bad mom when said daycare teacher runs down the list of my babies' ailments that I can’t fix: runny nose, croupy cough, and loose stools.
I confess…I feel like a super mom when I pick the babies up in the afternoon, and they excitedly run to me.
I confess…I feel like a super mom when I carry both babies out of daycare--in my arms at the same time. Even though I struggle to carry 40+ lbs of babies at the same time, I don’t let it show. Instead, I smile smugly at the other (weaker) moms. Maybe I can’t drop them off and pick them up or cure their various ailments, but I can carry two wiggly toddlers all by myself.