You know you're in the Mother-Hood when...

You Know You're in the MotherHood When...

You've sniffed a spot on your shirt and been able to determine the origin of said spot with CSI efficiency.

You let someone see you basically naked because he said he was an anesthesiologist.

It's a good day if you actually had time to shower, without interruptions or an audience of any kind.

Your meal plan has consisted of eating whatever mac and cheese is left in the pot after you've served it to the kids.

A drawing of you with a head the size of a watermelon is the prettiest picture you've ever seen.

Everyone but you being asleep counts as "alone time."

You feel a sense of accomplishment if you read an entire article in People magazine in one sitting.

You can name 3 out of 5 Backyardigans - you know you can.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Wouldn’t You Like to Be a Picker Too?

You’re not supposed to pick.
You’re not supposed to pick a fight.
You’re not supposed to pick scabs, pimples or your nose – or anyone else’s nose.
You really shouldn’t pick at a loose thread, you could unravel the whole sweater – well, that’s more like pulling, but go with me on this.

Hi. My name’s Tiffany and I am a picker.
Don’t worry, your nose is safe.
I pick unwanted pizza toppings off my slice. I pick at blemishes – yeah, I shouldn’t but since my skin seems to be unaware of the fact that it’s not 15 years old anymore and continues to break out at will; it will deal with the consequences, dammit.
I pick my cuticles, again, could be considered more of a tugging – but let’s not be picky.

I take my annoying habit one step further however. I am an emotional picker.
I pick apart conversations and over analyze everything.
I pick at problems until, many times; my incessant picking actually spawns a whole new batch of problems to pick apart.

It’s like my problem was a Gremlin and I fed it after midnight, under water.

I pick over things that have already transpired and somehow convince myself that, if I would’ve picked a different course of action, everything would be better, or at least different, which may not necessarily mean better – just different.

I pick at relationships that many others would just leave alone. You know, that friend you have that used to be super tight with that has morphed, slowly, into more of a “Christmas Card Friend?”
Yeah, I’m the one who can only go so long before I pick at that dilapidated friendship; I reach out and text or call or email. We have a great conversation (if I get a hold of them) and I hang up with a smile on my face, convinced I’ve rolled the crash cart out just in time to revive our flat lining friendship.
Fast forward to weeks or months later, when I’m picking at that same problem again, vowing not to keep picking a dead horse (normally people say beat a dead horse, but animal cruelty is never an option) - knowing eventually I’ll cave in and pick at it again.

If you need help with a problem and have to pick someone to help you come up with a list of pros and cons with you, I’m your girl.
I’d probably wonder why you picked me to help you. (See over analyzes everything.)

You’re probably wondering why I picked this topic – as it appears I have painted a picture of a rather neurotic, grass is always greener (or at least fairly better manicured) on the other side kind of hot mess sort of gal.

In my own defense, since I’ve been analyzing what I’ve written several times, I do pick apart simple decisions as well. Yesterday, after flip flopping for a bit, I picked a lemon scented Yankee Candle over a beachy scented option.
Tonight I picked a sugar free Paleo muffin over Thin Mints for dessert.
I feel good about one of those decisions. I really love Thin Mints.

1 comment:

Amy said...

LOVE it! Love you! Don't stop...ever, unless you're picking at something. And oh yeah, I don't want to become a Christmas card friend.