Girls, girls, girls

When I was younger, pregnant with my first child, I had hoped that I would have boys. What can I say? It is what I knew. Growing up with 3 brothers (ZERO sisters)I knew about sports, frogs, tree climbing, fort building, wrestling moves and championship distance spitting among other things. To say I was a tomboy is pretty accurate although my mom tried to girl me up with dance lessons. In the end, I think it was the nerd in me that won out over tomboy and girly-girl. Which is cool. I'm pretty okay with my nerd status.

It was frightening to me having the first daughter -- especially because she could definitely be described as a girly-girl. But then I had 2 more girls, followed by 2 step daughters, then ending with...yep, you guessed it, one more baby girl.

6 girls total. The reality is that as usual my fears were unfounded. My daughters have been the greatest gift. These girls have taught me so much about myself as a woman and have been my greatest source of pride and joy.

Today I was reminded of one of my favorite things about girls: giggling. We went to see Santa at Bass Pro and I scared Jill with a giant stuffed grizzly bear. Like a real one that has been killed then stuffed. You know...what is the word....taxidermy! It was silly but Jill, Riley and I just melted into a fit of giggles. It was so sweet. We had the best time my 2 littlest girlsies and me.

Challenge!

I'm right a lot. With 7 kids I get to be right. A LOT. In fact, many times even when I'm wrong I still get to be right. (I love that about parenthood.) I believe that at times I am so used to being "right" that I forget that I could actually be wrong. That is scary because I am neither that smart nor that experienced.

I will find myself making things up just to see if anyone will challenge the validity of what I am saying. I actually want to be challenged. I want someone to say, "Michelle, you are full of shit. And here are the 18 reasons why."

So, why do I want to be challenged? I started thinking about this last night. Hmm.

• I want to mix it up. Debate. Argue. I think it is stimulating. I find it stimulating in the way some people find jumping out of an airplane with a parachute stimulating. Thrilling, exciting, jumping into the unknown! Am I going to crash?? No! I know what I am talking about here! YES! The parachute has opened and I am floating gently to the ground.

• I want to learn. I feel like I stretch myself and my thinking the most when I get input from others. I especially grow when those other people don't necessarily think the way I do. Also, when I add their experiences to my own I think my knowledge expands to include their horizons.

But most of all --

• I'm tired. I'm tired of making the decisions. Sometimes, I feel like I want to say, "I don't really know what I'm doing here...you take over." I don't know what to fix for dinner, I don't know what punishment to levee for lying, I don't know what the right age is for wearing makeup, dating, having a cell phone or getting a credit/debit card. I don't know how to tell people no without hurting their feelings. I don't know if we should replace the carpet in the living room or re-tile the bathroom. I just don't freaking know.

So basically, out of laziness and the desire to abdicate my decision making responsibilities I want to be challenged. Laziness. Hmm. That sucks.

Did I just say that out loud?

Here's the truth.

I have voices in my head.

On the one hand, I am comforted because all the voices are my own but on the other, my voices talk to each other so in other words I talk to myself. Not a good sign. This happens to me a lot. I think this is why I have always tried to write. It helps to get the words out and down on paper. It quiets my mind, I guess.

Since I have gone back to work I don't blog. In addition, I have more things in any given day to talk to myself about since adding interaction with a whole slew of adults and teenagers to my daily agenda.

For example. I have a new co-worker. It is my job to train her and it is not going well. Every single day when I leave work I chat with myself about how it went and what I think worked and where I think some things may have gone wrong. Some days I will have this inner chat all evening -- while driving, cooking, cleaning, watching TV.

Another example. I have a friend. There are times when she or I will act irrationally towards the other. I will spend days discussing and dissecting every nuance of the interaction. With myself. In my head! Just to be clear. It is a real conversation. Multiple voices and perspectives. At times there can be as many as 5 me's in the debate!

The problem. My inner chat sessions are starting to bubble over. Just like a pot of boiling water after you add the noodles. You watch it boil closer and closer to the top. Bubbling, bubbling. Higher, higher. But with the pot, just before it reaches the top you can reach over and turn the stove down. Crisis averted! Not so with me. Several times in recent weeks one of my kids has said, "What? Mom, were you talking to me?" My response, "Uhhhhh, did I just say that out loud? Weird."

I'm losing control!

All this is to say....I think I am going to start blogging again.

Hello! My name is Michelle. Welcome to my conversation.

How did I get here?

I had a tubal ligation when I delivered Riley by C-section over 7 years ago. SEVEN! And yet I think I just came to the realization yesterday that I wouldn't be having any more babies. It made me really, really sad as I watched my LAST baby get her first big girl haircut. Sniffle. But seriously, I cried. It was pathetic.

I sat there trying to regain my composure by flipping through a magazine. As I did, I gazed upon famous people....with their toddlers! Awww, darn it. More sadness. One picture was a mom sitting "criss-cross applesauce" on the ground at the park with her daughter on her lap. Honestly, I used to love sitting like that with my toddlers...reading a book, watching television, blowing bubbles, picking "flowers" to tie together to make a necklace. (Insert reminiscent sigh here.)

Problem: I erroneously think I could still manage a baby because I tend to think I am younger than my actual age. Many of my (younger) friends are just having babies or talking about having babies or talking about maybe wanting to get married so they can start having babies. It breaks my heart because part of me wants to be right there with them. It's like because I live my life alongside theirs I sometimes feel like my life mirrors theirs as well. WRONG! Reality: I sat criss-cross on the floor playing with cars with my great-nephew over this past weekend and my legs went to sleep. For real! I had to wait 5 minutes for the numbness to wear off before I could stand! SUCK! STARK REALITY: I actually HAVE a great-nephew!! TWO in fact!!

Pfft!

I'm old.

It sucks.

It's 10 o'clock.

Past my bedtime.