Here are a few random facts about me.
1. I love canned meat.
Spam. Salmon. Beef and gravy. Chicken. Chicken of the Sea. That stuff that looks like dog food but as far as I know it's not (corn beef hash).
It's weirdly delicious.
2. I’ve spent roughly 30 percent of my life searching for things I had in my hand five minutes ago.
Keys, pens, scissors, my phone.
You name it, I've at one point ransacked the house for it only to discover it either in yesterday's jeans, today's jeans, or somewhere in the depths of my couch.
And on occasion - I find it still in my hand.
3. I’ve spent the other 70 percent of my life thinking about what I'm going to eat next.
There's literally nothing else.
4. In the last fifteen years I have gotten hit on twice.
About five years ago, a guy in the produce aisle looked me up and down, nodded, and said, "How you doin'?"
Then he walked off.
He was either interested in me or just curious about my well being. We'll never really know.
I was wearing my new skinny jeans, though, so I have to think it meant something.
(And by skinny jeans, I mean naturally slimming pants with the front panel to hold in my belly.)
The second time, I was at the carwash, with my butt straight up in the air attempting to reach what appeared to be a petrified apple.
I couldn't believe it. I still don't. It was probably for someone else. Maybe it was just a really happy person.
Either way - I love my hubby so it doesn't really matter. Although I'll admit, it doesn't hurt my self-esteem.
5. My two boys are nine and twelve. So I'm not exactly parenting littles anymore, but also not parenting bigs quite yet.
That whole potty training thing finally took. Honestly, I thought it never would. I thought I was going to be buying a diaper bag to match their prom dates’ dresses.
Logan once told me that he couldn't poop on Thursdays. So every time I hear him flush on that particular day of the week, I just feel a little parenting victory.
I take what I can get.
They can go to the bathroom alone, yet not put down the seat, which is also true of the other kid I'm raising - but he's 43.
They are also old enough to bathe, brush their teeth, and even get their own breakfast with no help from me.
Yet when they get sick or something hurts - especially if it's their hearts - then they curl up on me like toddlers again.
I hope they never get too big for that..
6. I recently turned 40-years old. I remember when Dad turned 40, and we got him a bobblehead wearing a t-shirt that said, “Over the hill.”
I don't really know what it means to be over the hill - I just know I'm too tired to climb back up it.
I keep hearing that forty is the new thirty, but if that's the case then thirty just got a stiff knee and hair that's thinning on top.
In biblical times, I wonder if 900 became the new 600.
Because Noah built the ark when he was somewhere around six-hundred years old. Yet, I get tired carrying the laundry basket upstairs.
7. I’m finally learning that despite my daily failings, I'm doing the absolute best I can with what I've been given.
My parenting. My marriage. My friendships. My extended family. My writing. My everything.
I'm not perfect but my heart is in every bit of it - unless it's during a Property Brothers marathon. Then you should approach my recliner slowly with offerings of chocolate or wine.
So, I might eat canned meat, lose all my stuff, and have an obsession with food, but I've got heart and I'm trying really hard.
That's gotta count for something.
8. Life is short. So dang short. And that's ok because it takes getting through this one to finally stand before Jesus.
And friends, that's everything.