Maybe Some Confessions?

Aw man once again, here stands the lonely blog.

And I am dying to enjoy it once again.

I was over along the lines of Frugal by Necessity, Cheap by Choice, 

and saw the line of her confessions, and thought that seemed super theraputic.

And it's not like I didn't know where to start. No.

One. I am totally and fully in love with my son, with being a mom, with this stage in my life.
I know, super sappy right? But for honest, it's completely true.
Have there been some extremely frustrating days? Yes. Have there been total meltdowns? Couple times.
Have I frequently questioned myself like Ryan Reynolds in Definitely Maybe
"What am I DOING here?!"
Yep.
All of these things and so many more that I can't even fully describe. I've done em all.
And I have especially grappled with the urge for my desire for perfection in the eye of everyone that I've always struggled with and had become even more of a clusterfuck of stress in being a mother.
But I've set that aside. [for now]
But honestly, I feel like I've reached a good place. I'm so in love with my son, my husband, and my life.
And I'm doing the best I can. Which is totally the best that ever needs to be done.

Two. I am totally and fully also depressed about my weight and have been struggling in understanding what is wrong with my body.
Mainly meaning that it has a totally different style and reactionary method than it did pre-pregnancy.
I had dropped about 40 pounds pre-pregnancy. And when I finished having my son,
I only had to lose 9 pounds. I felt really incredibly proud of myself.
And now I'm up nearly 20 from my pre-pregnancy weight. And I've been trying to get back on the horse.
But even with exercise and trying to eat responsibly, which is all I did last time,
[minus the excercise actually]
it seems like nothing is working.
And it's extremely frustrating and makes me not want to even try.
But I'm trying to keep trying.

Three. I seriously don't understand how anyone keeps a clean house.
Like, honestly. I don't understand it. It is a skill that continues to allude me.
I feel like I can try and work all damn day on my house, and there's still a million places where it's filthy.
Okay not filthy most the time, but at least severely disorganized.
I want so much to be the woman with that perfect little cute kitchy house with all the sweet decorations
and the polka dot apron and a happy house with birdsong and a pie in the fucking window.
GOD. Who set that precedent? I want it so much it makes me whine like a toddler.
Whoever decided that imagery was a thing should have been shot in the damn skull.

Four. Periods. Fucking. Suck.

Five. I still sort of struggle with seeing teenagers walking along the street and realizing that I'm no longer part of that demographic.
Those are no longer my people.
I wouldn't understand half the shit they talk about.
I don't look like that anymore.
Depressing, but fact.

Six. Blue is seriously my new favorite color.
And I love being as cliche with it as possible when it comes to my son.
Cannot help it. Love it.

Seven. Speaking of babies. Hipster baby pictures?
Loathe them.
I'm sorry in advance if you dress your kid like that, but I just.. Why?
Children have the amazing ability to wear everything that no adult could ever get away with.
Why dress them like mini hipsters and those stupid fake glasses and make them look terrible.

So I could try and pull out so many more confessions, but the truth of the matter is,
given what time of the month it is,
these are going to devolve into bitch snippets (trademark) real quick.
OH wait one more.

Eight. When I go back and think of what I say after a day with new people, I wonder:
Do I seem super negative all the time?
It's so funny because I'm one of the least negative people in actuality.
I'm a continual looker on the bright side, most days, and try to give everything a chance.
But my humor is entirely sarcastic and dry.
It's one of the many reasons I married my husband. I can say whatever I want and we both laugh and know it has no actual bearing on what I'm honestly feeling.
I poke fun at everything. And half the things I say are just to get it out like word vomit as it flitters through my head like a sarcastic little butterfly. Two seconds after I've said it I've forgotten it.
But I think..to people who don't know me?
I could be such a downer if you didn't recognize it as humor.

Okay, I'm done.
I hope you maybe giggled at something? Or at least understood?
I promise I'll get better at this again.
Leave me a thought or your confession, the juicier the better.

Nine. I'm by no means a gossiper, but I'm a chronic snoop/nosy bitch.