I'm in the midst of the post about choosing A Plan. And I realize that I am completely running myself into the ground by letting my right brain/Inner Brat-Kiddie-Princess (Pam Young: Meet Your Inner Kiddie) have full control over my life. This, for me, is akin to letting a four-year-old run the house completely.
What it means literally is that I have done something I never do: kept my child home from preschool with me this morning in order to have something I do once in awhile -- have a What-the-Hell Day. It's noon and I'm in my screamin' loud plaid flannel lounge pants, a filthy heather-gray tee, laptop on, shoes off, homemade mocha by my side, no breakfast or lunch in me...
I have gotten so caught up in this new blogging fun that I have neglected to (a) eat or (b) join the Real World (which is the one outside of my own head). OK I do have one toe in the Real World -- my son and I are chatting back and forth when the mood strikes him. (He's puttering around playing, watching Dora... we're relaxing. Except he's dressed. In actual Daytime Clothes.)
I have decided that I need protein post-haste. I have a spoonful of peanut butter and will eat a piece of fruit to balance it out shortly. Promise.
Also, re the reality check: I need to remember that as fun as it is poking around on these holiday countdown plans (my sick version of fun), I need to actually DO SOME HOUSECLEANING instead of just tripping in my own space thinking my dreamy thoughts. I am a mom. I have kids. I have a life. Back to the ranch...
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