Randomness

 

Shoes:

I got these new shoes (cute, aren't they?).  They are not actually comfortable though.  I told Adam I insisted on cute comfortable shoes.  I was on a quest.  I wouldn't settle for less.  (I am a notorious settler when it comes to purchases because I lose patience.)

I virtuously passed up many shoes because they were not cute enough or not comfortable enough.

Then I saw these.

They were cute enough that I didn't care that they were uncomfortable.

I told Adam that sometimes we need to make sacrifices for fashion and he looked very skeptical.

The other day I was shopping with Emma.  I asked her, "Are these shoes cute?"

She said, "Yes."

I said, "Really cute?"

She said, "Yes."

I said, "Good, because they are hurting my feet."  Then I added the "sometimes we need to make sacrifices for fashion" thing and she nodded her head like I had just spoken wise words.

Sometimes having a daughter really pays off.

Yesterday morning, after a rough and rocky night without enough sleep, I staggered in my pajamas to go drive the seminary kids to school.  I slipped on my new shoes because they were by the door.  Here's the thought I had as I was walking to my van, "I hope there's not a zombie apocalypse because I am in my pajamas and would not be able to run in these shoes."

Then I thought maybe I shouldn't be driving if I'm having such delusional thoughts.

I told the seminary carpool about my zombie apocalypse fears and they helpfully pointed out that since I was driving I was safe...I could outrun/outdrive any danger.

And why I didn't get any sleep:

I think being a Drama Mama may kill me.  A slow and painful death.

Auditions were held in the last week.  Between callbacks and delays in listing of the cast and refreshing facebook every 3 seconds to find out the results, I was a wreck.  Braeden too.

I usually manage to not be a helicopter parent.  I let my kids do their thing when it is their thing.  Last year I wasn't nearly as concerned about Braeden's auditions...if he got a part, great!

Now I know how much it means to him.

And I get way way way too invested.  (Isn't recognizing you have a problem the first step?)

Why big sisters are a great invention:

I texted Marianne a woeful text.

She texted back:  "Do you want me to beat her up?" (her being the person causing me anxiety)

I texted back: "Yes"

She answered: "I will be right there."

Now Marianne is so slender that any foe of mine, real or imagined would outweigh her.  I'm not sure she'd be that great in a fight.  (I am going to hear about this from her...she will be offended that I doubt her sparring prowess.)

It is wonderful to know that she has my back though.  She's been on my side my whole life and she's not about to switch sides.