frump-y 1. A girl or woman regarded as dull, plain, or unfashionable 2. A stay-at-home mom who, amid the joys of raising children,
has lost all sense of style and/or fashion
I'm a wife to one and mother of seven. I write, I craft and, sometimes, I clean. I'm a recovering diet-Coke-aholic, an occasional exerciser and a wanna-be health nut. When I grow up, I hope to be a published author.
Here's a few tips on how to successfully celebrate your birthday when you get to be old like me.
Start celebrating the day before your birthday. Spend the night in a hotel with your sweetie. No kids, no phones, no cooking dinner, no kids, no laundry, no housework, no kids. Sit in a hot tub a couple of times. Stay up very late writing because you know you can sleep in. Eat fattening food, don't worry about it because you're 44 now, been married forever and he still loves and desires you, so, who cares? Sleep in. Let the hotel make you breakfast. Go home to the kids and have them all say, "Happy Birthday, Mommy." (yes, I have teenagers and, yes, they call me mommy) Ignore the fact that you have kids and a household to run. Lay around all day, watching TV, playing on computer and don't do any housework. Take a nap. Go to the General Relief Society Meeting with your mom and sisters. Be sneaky and eat pie and goodies with older sister while mom and younger sister wait for t…
Today I started a new chapter in my life. It's called,
Your Mom Goes to College
As my first day at Weber State ended, I realized there are a few things that might happen if you return to school after twent--mffshh *ahem* a lot of years.
If your mom goes to college she might assume that buying a parking pass means she'll just arrive and find a place to park. When she spends 35 minutes trying to find a parking spot, she might start swearing. A lot. She also might almost hit another car. And then, when she realizes she's already late for class she might just park illegally on a residential street screaming "Screw it! Give me a ticket!" and then run to class.
She might arrive at her first class ten minutes late. Arriving late might give her anxiety*. Then she might spend the next hour trying to pay attention to the teacher while also wondering how much her parking ticket will cost.
If your mom goes to college she might search through the crowds trying to find some…
She sat on those New Year's days clueless. She celebrated with joy and abandon, looking forward to the year ahead. She thought this year, this one, will be better. This will be the year of happiness and carefree wonder, of success and new thrills. "This," she said to herself, "is my year."
Oh, that I could go back and sit with her. I would hold her hand and try not to stifle her smile. Would I destroy the hope she held like a shiny bauble? Or would I let her go on,let her believe, knowing as I do, that those years would be nothing like she dreamed? Would I tell her gently of the pain that awaited, of the tears she would shed and the ways her heart would never be the same? Would I, could I, prepare her for the unexpected doors she would be forced to open? Wouldn't it be better for her, to know about the trials, the pain, the sorrow? Couldn't she be stronger if she had the chance to be ready, to shore up her walls, fill up her pantry, stock up on strengt…