Now that I've picked a pistachio to represent me, I'm wondering why. It was, after all, a whim. Now I'm finding deeper meanings within the realm of the pistachio. Such as I can take those nuts or leave them, most of the time. They're not that important to me, especially if they're sitting next to...oh...chocolate cake? My husband on the other hand, LOVES those little green things. I guess I'm lucky, huh? Well, ok. I'm not dry, brittle and shriveled up inside, but I do have a shell up between my feelings and the world. I would rather pour out my feelings to my poor, unsuspecting husband. I think he'll like this blog. Ok, enough of the nutziness.
Why do people feel compelled to blog? I've tried before, but I didn't stick with it. Perhaps it's because I feel the need for recognition and approval from others, and didn't get what I was hoping for. Is that something I need to get over? Or is it a need everyone has? I don't know. Maybe I'm afraid that others won't think I'm as clever as I hope myself to be. Yeah, that's it. Well now, I just want to have a record of my life, and this doesn't give me writer's cramp like a traditional journal does.
Now, I love being a mom. I have 6 and 5 year old boys, and a 21 month old daughter. I've noticed that many bloggettes are moms! It is nice to connect with other adult human beings, other than once a week at church. I enjoy my children, but you know you've been around them a bit too long when you have a chance to go to Kohls with your sister, and you find yourself chanting your 5 year old son's ridiculous words. He came up with this, I have no clue why. He says, "Moo, moo, moo, moo, HINEY.....ba ba ba ba buns" while shaking his rump. No, I did NOT shake my rump in public, but I'm scared I might one day, unknowingly! I find myself uttering ridiculousness at inappropriate times. Am I reverting back to childhood? Although, being a girl, I wasn't that disgusting. Wait....maybe I didn't say that chant. I may have said...well, a little background first.
When my brother was little, my mom called his you-know-what a little "doodle". Brother couldn't say that, he changed it to "goodle", pronounced with an "ooo" like "moose" My sons know the proper names for body parts, but to save me the embarrassment of them yelling "PENIS" in public, we called it a goodle too. Except second son couldn't say that...he says "google". I bet the founders of Google would love to know what the company name REALLY means...but I digress. Since they both would walk around with hands in their pants, we would tell them "no google", especially when I caught the younger one whipping it out over his diaper in Walmart. So my 5 year old, when he was 3 or 4 (he has suspected auditory processing disorder and didn't talk until 3) started calling it a "no google". Then he started saying "no google beans". Now what could THAT mean??? Yup, you guessed it. Wherever there's a "no google" there must be "no google beans". And I think THAT was what I was uttering in my tiredness, tramping around the clearance sections at Kohls.
So, if you're still here, thank you. I put my words out into cyberspace to find some grown-up, listening ears. Unless I start chanting, "Moo, moo, moo, moo HINEY!!!" or was that "No google BEANS!".