Never Intending to Publish

Just to write.

If you follow my Instagram, you’d know that:

What? You aren’t one of my 57 followers?

I should have an 8th on there:

8. Writing.

Or a 9th, 10th, and 11th: Reading, Running, and Cows.

Oh, wait.

Cows be on that list…twice!

I’ve been writing my entire life, spinning stories from when I was young. I’m Irish; it’s in my blood. I wish I had kept the stories I wrote when I was younger; they had the same dramatic flair and dry humor, even back then. I remember in 5th grade in particular, I’d write stories to one of my best friends, Julie, and drop them off on her desk when I got up to, “sharpen my pencil.” (Remember those pencil sharpeners attached to walls that could grind your fingers off?) I haven’t talked to her in decades, literally decades, but I think she’d remember exactly what I’m talking about:

I literally DM’d her (thank you, Facebook!), for the first time in 20 years last night.

Or not. 🤣

Memories are funny things though. I swear, I’d write all class long (while I’m sure I was supposed to be doing well, whatever it is you do in 5th grade). About our adventures at her house, playing outdoors, our fun in the woods, hiking through streams, the tree stands, pets… I’d write it all – every adventure – and then I’d carefully trifold each sheet of looseleaf and sneak it to her. She would laugh at all the right places, and her laugh was so contagious that I’d inevitably start laughing too. Funny though, how we have such different memories. I’m not sure I would even have remembered the Sunshine Fund if she hadn’t mentioned it (truly!), but now that my mind is going back in time 30 years ago and digging through the cobwebs of my brain, maybe hers will do the same? Regardless, she was once a dear friend, tremendous competitor, and remains an all around great human, and it was so great to hear back from her – maybe our (lack of, haha) shared memories will be a starting point to rekindle our friendship. ❤️

But I digress.

So what is it about writing; why do I love it much?

Well. Because writing is fun. Especially when it elicits emotion. I mean, it’s right in my About section:

I have always said that if your own story doesn’t bring you to tears, it’s not worth telling. Tears of joy or tears of frustration, we’ve all got a story to share…

So what’s your story?

For the fun of fun, here are some recent snapshots of my story. A “Life Lately” kind of post. But remember, I was never intending to publish this. Just to write. But nevertheless, a sneak peek of me throwing up my hands, rolling my eyes, and trying to laugh my way through the chaos of parenthood, work, and everything in between.

The Exploding Bean Bag

Version 2.0 had a sleepover, and I woke up to this:

You cannot even begin to understand the destruction that an exploded bean bag creates. I appreciate 2.0’s efforts to try and clean up the billions of small “Expanded Polystyrene Beans (EPS),” but I’m just gonna say it – his efforts were futile.

(Yes, I had to Google what the hell bean bags are filled with these days, which is how I know it is EPS, so you’re welcome for this insightful, but useless, information.)

I had flashbacks to 1983:

Remember those stupid things? I know you know what I’m talking about. The Fisher Price thing that was filled with balls that would bounce around and pop when you pushed it. Okay, 1: That is exactly what I put into Google; 2. I didn’t get the above picture until I added the word, ‘vintage;’ 🙄 and, 3. Does Fisher Price even still exist?

Anyway, long story short, the boy tried to vacuum up the mess, only to fill our entire central vac with EPS beans. Two stories, filled with these beans!!! That picture above, the outlet where you can see the beans spilling out? That is on the second floor of our house; the central vac canister is in the garage. Yes, two stories of these beans. So you can imagine what happened when I tried to empty the canister…

(Insert image of your worst nightmare.)

Sigh.

The biggest of sighs.

Eggs

(Inspired by none other, Theodor Seuss Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss.)

Not in the fridge.

Not in a pan.

Accidentally dropped,

And 2.0 ran.

Not cooked to eat.

Scrambled nonetheless.

Story of my life.

A huge fuggin’ mess.

Why Do I Bother?

A brand new white shirt. Worn for approximately (I’m not kidding) 8 minutes. You cannot make this up. You even had your dinner shirtless because I knew. I knew this was your destiny. Solution, given we are now late to practice? Just tuck the damn thing in and pull your shorts up to your nipples. Problem solved. Good luck with that golf swing.

Some Vino Would Be … Keen-o

There was a sale. I’m pretty sure that’s all I need to say for this one, no?

2.0’s Mowing Efforts

You know the phrase, a picture is worth a thousand words? Well.

Someone’s gonna get another shot at it! Woot, woot – a great opportunity to learn to get it right the first time! (Or risk having to do it over, and over, and over, and over again…). I bet he’ll be as excited for a second chance as we are to give it to him. #learnyourlesson

The Animals

Or at least Mace. Because she’s the most … photogenic? 😂

Maybe not?

How ’bout Sagely?

Even worse, haha.

We’ll leave the dogs out of it for now. And maybe all pets in the future.

Don’t worry though, my life isn’t all exasperated sighs and eye rolls, there are plenty of belly laughs, hugs, smiles, friends, and fun. And just to prove it, a sneak preview into a quick family vacation with friends:

So stay tuned for my recap of Put In Bay. #iykyk