Yep party people, I’m the mom that paints her son’s toes. Who am I to deny that tiny pleasure.
He was a bit embarrassed to show them off at first (I did one foot) to Grampa and his auntie, but then got over it. Then this:
Me: If Gramma wants to take off your polish, let her ok. Not everyone likes it when mommy paints your toes.
Ernest: (after a deep breath) Some boys like their toes painted and that’s ok. I like it and that’s ok. Not all people have to like it.
Me: That’s right my man. You be who you are and don’t let anyone tell you different.
Ernest: ok mommy
Made me proud that my almost-four-year old came to that conclusion.
It was exactly a year ago today that I heard the commencement speech that Steve Jobs gave to Stanford in 2005. I heard the words above and something clicked. Something inside me brightened. I saw that he was absolutely correct. How happy could you be living the ideals of someone else? How could you feel at peace with yourself knowing that it’s not you that’s directing your own life?
It was that day, that epiphany, those words, that put me where I am today.
So I’ve gone my entire life with not a bone broken. Nothing. A jammed finger here or there, maybe a little sprain. Nothing major.
Within the last 2 weeks I discovered that 3 of my ribs have hairline fractures and now my elbow is fractured.
And I haven’t even started training for my mudrun. What the hell?
From Tough Shit: Life Advice from a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good by Kevin Smith.
You know that point where almost everything you do is so routine that you can’t remember if you did it or not? Or you think you might just be half asleep while moving through the day?
Yeah. Me, too.
I’m not sure what’s better…to question everything or nothing. Maybe the answer lies somewhere in the middle.
Ever wonder where the other cars are driving to? Or from? And what kind of music they’re jamming to?
I sometimes wish I had a power button to turn on or off the things I can’t.
And sometimes a volume button. And maybe a zoom. And while I’m at it, a pause button (oh wait, that’s called a camera).
Ever notice any song can be molded to fit your mood or situation?
In a house full of electronics that use double A batteries, I find the one that uses TRIPLE As. Who the hell makes a kid’s toy that uses triple As?