Dearest readers and random people who accidentally ended up on my site after searching “men getting cold,”
Welp, this is awkward.
It’s been 2 years and I didn’t call. I didn’t write. Trust me, it wasn’t you, it was me.
Just kidding. Of course it was you. You betches are judgey.
But now I’m back, so here is a quick recap of the last 2 years:
- I had that baby that was in my belly. He is perfect and the greatest joy I have ever known.
- My husband is still hanging in there with me. God bless his soul.
- My job is still my job.
- And I’m still a turd of a human being.
But lately I have been wondering, how does one stop being a turd of a human being and start being a better person? How do I become the person I have always wanted to be? How do I quit being the worst?
Let me back up for a second and tell you what led me to these questions. This week, after being wildly frustrated with Eric (for no reason) and crying in the bathroom at work (thank you 17th floor vacancy), and needing some time to myself after watching a sick baby all day, I went to Taco John’s to grab some dinner. The lady in the drive thru recognized me from my numerous breakfast burrito visits and gave me a punch card for frequent customers. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that she gave me 3 pity punches in the card to get me started.
It was a new low.
So flash forward to me thinking about how to be a better version of myself. Can anyone tell me if there is a pill or some sort of formula I can drink to make this process easier? Will I just wake up some day and magically care more about fitness or sobriety or other people? Do I just decide to change and will myself into being better? Or does this situation actually involve some serious soul searching and hard work?
Because I feel like that seems difficult.
And I don’t wanna.
But, ughhhhhh, finnnneeee. I know I should.
Now that I am responsible for raising another human being, perhaps it’s time to try harder at this thing called “life” and being an “adult.” When I became a parent, I quickly realized that I no longer had the luxury of being an asshole all the time because this little person is watching everything I say and do. The problem with that is…
I am still an asshole.
Every night I think tomorrow I will be better. I will try harder. I will be a better wife and a better mom. It’s easy, right? Just do it. And then every morning, I wake up and I still get mad at Eric for not taking the diapers out to the trash, and I get frustrated at work, and I’m exhausted by the end of the day. So when Teddy finally goes to bed at night, I crash too, thinking…I will be better tomorrow. I’ll write a blog post finally. I’ll go for a run and take Teddy to the park. I’ll make Eric dinner. I’ll do something crafty.
And then I wake up again and I’m still the same asshole I was the day before.
Honestly, I am so annoying. I want to punch myself in the face because I have no reason to complain or get frustrated. I have built the life that I always dreamed of. I have a husband I adore. A baby that makes me happier than I ever knew possible. A dog that is our guardian angel. A house that I love coming home to. A job that has endless possibilities.
I mean sure, I didn’t always dream of having a belly button that looks like a frown, but for the most part, I did good. And I am so proud of the life Eric and I built together. I don’t want people to read this and think that I am unhappy because I’m not. I just think it’s okay to question the things around me, including myself. Everyone has room for improvement in their lives.
I’m talking to you, people wearing cargo shorts. Why do you need so many pockets? It makes no sense. So don’t.
But today is another day to try to be a better version of myself and this is my first step. Writing on my blog again.
Honestly, the rest of the stuff on my list seemed too difficult and writing a blog post seemed easier than exercising.
Tune in next week for my excuse on why I needed to have a margarita every night this week instead of working on myself. It’s summer, get off me.
Love and judging you always,*
*Except for that Taco John’s lady. I do not love you. I only love your potato oles, and your cheese sauce, and your breakfast burritos, and #5 with chicken, grilled.
1 thought on “2 Years Later…”
Baby Steps – we are all flawed somewhere. I had missed your writing and am glad you’re back at it. My first recommended step – replace that #5 @ TJ with a wrap you made with your own hands in the morning. The happiness will appear out of thin air.