Hey hey hey!
It's the middle of another month, so that means Elizabeth and I are getting together to share our Mid-Month Confessions with you supportive people who like to laugh with us at our failed attempts at adulthood.
If you need a place to go to feel better about yourselves each month, these posts are it.
Elizabeth and I like to confess our crazy, careless, less-than-perfect moments in hopes of keeping it real, laughing at our short-comings as moms (or just as adults in general), and making us all feel like our own brand of crazy might actually be more average than we realized.
So here goes:
I have been watching The Bachelor for a LONG time. I love the whole Bachelor franchise and all of the spin-offs of the show: Bachelorette, Bachelor in Paradise, Bachelor Pad (R.I.P.), Bachelor specials like last night's 20th anniversary special- you name it, I've probably seen it.
In all the years leading up to this one, my girlfriends and I have always talked about the bachelor himself as if we were the same age and have assessed the quality of his bachelor-ness as if we were contestants ourselves.
This year, however, I have seemingly out of nowhere found myself talking about Bachelor Ben as if I were his MOM.
Really. It's kind of disturbing.
On more than one occasion, I have thought to myself or verbalized to Matt:
* "I feel like his parents have to be so proud of the way he's treating the girls and handling some of the awkward and difficult situations."
* "Oh I bet his mom is really proud watching this part right now."
* "If Ryan were on a show like this and handling himself the way Ben is, I would feel so proud of him."
Never before has the word "proud" popped into my head so many times while watching what is supposed to be my hour of mindless trash TV for the week.
It's like in a matter of one season I have gone from "I am so in your age bracket" to "Oh bless you dear child, you are making your mama beam."
I'm thinking the switch might have happened around the time I had to start checking the "next" box on questionnaires:
This week, my sweet mama insisted that I go to the nail place up the street during Ryan's nap and treat myself to a relaxing mani-pedi before Baby Girl arrived. (Yeah, she's pretty great.)
I was really wanting this color that I saw on Becca's nails on The Bachelor this week.
(I'm actually not obsessed with this show, as much as this post is telling a completely different story)
Turns out I learned two things from this nail trip:
1- Don't leave the nail-color-picking up to the person who's painting your nails.
2- Double check that they word "neon" is not in the title before going with the color.
They're a little bright and might scream that I'm either a little TOO into Valentine's Day or a little TOO ready for the arrival of our Baby Girl, or that I'm planning an impromptu trip down to South Beach if she keeps on keeping on right where she is.
(My third and final confession will not have anything to do with The Bachelor.)
While we were walking around the mall this week, my mom suggested we swing in to Stride Rite to double check Ryan's shoe size and make sure he wasn't ready for the next size up.
Mind you, I thought it was a harmless idea but was sure I had been checking his toes in his shoes and thought that maybe he just had proportionately small feet for his size.
Turns out, he measured for a 6.5 wide.
He's been wearing a 5 (not wide).
That's it for me for this month. Don't forget to swing over to Elizabeth's blog and check out her confessions too!
And if you want a good laugh, click here for a confession of sorts on how Matt and I met- it's about as cheesy as this picture from our first Valentine's Day from 14 years ago. :)
And since I pre-wrote and scheduled this post, I'm hoping Matt and I are sitting in a hospital room snuggling our Sweet Girl right this very moment. I will share her first pictures on Instagram and be back with a post about her arrival hopefully later this week!!
Have a great week, friends!