Things I am Guilty of

This Month so far.

1. Feeling the new Adele song, strongly. Embarrassingly so. Most especially while sick in bed watching the house around me fall into complete anarchy, mirroring the ways of a jr fraternity pad with kids drunk off power aid, orange lip stains, crazy eyes, baby shirtless and banging like a tiny manic on drums with bags of ships strewn around the loft and lego's sprinkled everywhere I looked and stairs lined with blankets to allow plastic snow sleds I didn't know we owned launch them from the top of stairwell down to landing that I had to face while stumbling around to find the medicine that could not possibly drug me enough to escape the sad fact of it all. Meanwhile, doing my best to not get stuck begrudging their father in the driveway making teepees with ear phones pouring sweet country songs into his ears as we all come edging towards a loud fiery end 12 feet away from the assembly line he's focused on. Because when he's not "keeping on on them" I'm just as bothered.

2. Burning the boxed brownies, and throwing away the pan that they ruined just before the house keeper walked in because I fear her judging me, and my every move, and my strange craft riddled basket, and my every filthy mistake, every time she come to clean.

3. Falling in love with two properties in two months, declaring them both my "ultimate dream homes" even though we've yet to make it through Christmas. To find ample time dedicated to cleaning up this house in time for it's own sale.

4. Eating black olives like candy when I'm stressed.

5. Neglecting regular center tasks while working my teacher aid gig, gossiping with kindergartners. Asking about Rex's behavior in class, what his manners are like, and casually other things like "so, what does your mom do?" or "do you like the smell of this perfume?" instead of teaching simple math facts.

6. Wearing my prettiest dresses to impress my favorite five year old girls when I do help in class. To balance out the apathetic attention to style that comes with living in a house full of five men who could care less.

7. Having Rex repeat, and sleep with, and repeat, and trace, and hold, and repeat his flashcards - with specific attention to the "J," which he consistently deems "H" every time I quiz him. Still. Making me want to scream and cry at the same time.

8. Buying a fairly pricey coat on a whim late one Tuesday night. Then spending a good five minutes the following morning complaining, debating, anguishing over the sick fact of 6 dollar organic eggs.

9. Waiting in a long line on a Monday morning at Starbucks only to reach the window and discover my ATM card missing. Then returning, with card in hand, only to have it declined due to an expiration issue. #hideme

10. Finally relinquishing the pressure on myself, to ever find any matching pairs of boy socks, ever, again. And feeling utterly, stupidly liberated by the surrender.

11. Feeling like a pioneer woman because I've grown accustomed to manhandling a whole chicken without feeling queasy.

12. Voting Rex "best dressed member of the household" publicly. In front of all members of the household to try and inspire healthy competition and ease them away from a newfound love of basketball shorts.

13. Trying to find suitable chat groups where I can dispense my love (and sharp theories unfolding) about the Leftovers because it's the best show on Television that no one I know in real life is watching.

14. Thinking Leon's elf dance moves are possibly the best thing I've known in life.

15. Killing it with the low ways of reverse pyshcology on Arlo - telling him that we can't "really afford" piano lessons for him just yet, because when we "could," he wasn't the least bit interested. And now that it's "not really an option" - he's dying to get in. #Learnyourkids.

16. Feeling genuinely sad about the the fact of Hayes refusing to share his cookies with me, in spite of desperate begging and fake cries, and then seeing him feed the dog half when I turn my head. Twice now, if we're being honest. Like he doesn't even remember who birthed him a little over a year  ago  . . .

17. Accidentally promising Leon AND Rex that I would make Christmas puppets for both their classes, while answering emails and not coherent enough to realize what I was agreeing to or just how daunting 70 sewn finger puppets, the week before Christmas, on top of EVERYTHING else will prove.

18. Googling charter schools to see where you can put kids who don't care about learning letters and only want to play music, to know they still have a "decent shot" at life.

19. Talking myself out of a sudden urge to want to hang photos of John Kennedy and Carolyn Bessett in my room like my 15 year old self would have been quick to do upon finding an old Vanity Fair magazine in my closet yesterday.

20. Telling my kids they don't know what good music is after seeing how downright unimpressed they looked by my fierce rapping skillz when the Fugees came on the radio. #reppinclassof98

*oh, and don't forget being interviewed for a recent podcast about women's birthing stories in which I seemed to repeat the phrase, "wanting to go out to dinner and drink champagne" following each birth.