Monday Morning Blahs: Overwhelmed As A Life Choice? Don't Read This Unless You Want To Hear Some Whining

The weekends are kicking my butt around here lately. Maybe they always have, but lately, I'm feeling the pain more than usual. Just when I think I have a handle on things, the handle breaks off. Maybe this is all part of being 40 something.

This entire year, I can not seem to get grip on any kind of routine. I used to think I wasn't a routine girl, but as I get older, I can see that I clearly need one. I haven't exercised with any regularity. I haven't written with as much regularity as I'd like.

I'm falling off the healthy eating wagon--I bought Chex Mix yesterday, and sat down on the couch next to my husband with the intent of eating it all by MYself in ONE sitting. He luckily grabbed the bag away from me and saved me from MYself.

I feel like I need a lot of saving from MYself lately. I'm back to two cups of coffee, lots of take out and little premeditated cooking and cleaning. I know it will all be OK, but I feel a little like I'm slipping off the cliff of no return.

I suppose I could put the brakes on a bit and slow things down. I am pretty much the churner that whirls and allows the chaos around here. Can Overwhelmed be a life choice? What if sometimes it isn't voluntary?

Speaking of returns, anyone up for a little Monday retail therapy? That might be my next stop...

You Fight Like A Girl

I was reflecting on a regular Margarita Friday.  The usual 'Mom' suspects were sitting in a circle chatting away around the table.  Various kids of all ages were romping freely outside.  We all were basking in that wonderful thing known as Friday and the beginning of the weekend.

It was our last Margarita Friday of the school year (Margarita Friday is a thing that sometimes happens at my house...on Fridays).  The next time the Margaritarator will be humming will be on the 4th of July.  School activity was ramping up to ramp down to a steep descent into a delicious, lazy summer.

The conversation wasn't about school coming to an end.  We had dished school ending and summer camp long ago.  This week the conversation drifted to what you can do to yourself to look younger and how much each procedure hurt on a scale of relative  pain.

Burn, poke, pry, prod, pluck,

laser, inject, re-surface (you'd think we were talking about floors), 

nip, dye, tint, suck, 

scrub, peel, wax, thread, tuck.  

Whew!

Never tell someone that they fight like a girl, if they have ever done some of these aforementioned procedures, they know no pain and they will kick your butt.  

Step aside men who cry like babies while their backs are being waxed--it's 2009 and someone has created the most painful, expensive ways to look youthful and beautiful to date.  

We are girls,  and we don't shrink at the sight of needles and lasers.  We do not shy from the $400 beauty salon bill (well, some of us).  We are so strong that we can giggle, laugh and tell our stories about silently suffering at the hands of a beauty professional.  

If we didn't laugh about it, we'd have to cry.  Yep, we fight like girls do.