That first one.

Hours.  That is how long I have been staring at this screen.  Not all today, but a couple to many minutes a week.  What do I write?  What do people care about?  What will make me draw in viewers?  What is my hook?  So I thought, what is most important to me?  Easy - that's me.  So here it goes.

I am not "THAT Mom".
You know the one.  Perfectly manicured, always clean, airy demeanor.  Nothing rattles her, or wrinkles her for that matter.  Her children must be robots...I mean, who ACTS like that?  Oh, and where did she get those matching outfits and the bows so straight?  She must have live in help. Stylist. Wine cellar. On-call pharmacist.

No, I am "That One Mom".
Frazzled.  Now that is an interesting word to start out with in my very first blog.  First thing that popped into my head.  So let's look it up....

fraz·zle 

[fraz-uhl]  -zled, -zling, noun 

verb

1. to wear to threads or shreds; fray.

2. to weary; tire out.

noun

3. the state of being frazzled  or worn-out.

4. a remnant; shred.

Yes, that's it.  Frazzled.  I am frayed.  Like that shoelace on your child's sneaker that you keep meaning to cut down.  Lots of little threads hanging, together but just flopping around every which way.  They drag on the wet ground.  Don't accidentally pull it the wrong way through the hole, now you'll never get it back in. 

Yes, frayed.

However I do not think that frayed is so bad.  I can say no.  I can do less.  I do not have to be who I am: mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend. All those little hanging threads at the end of my psyche are important to me.

I have to color code my calendars, screen my calls, make lists...forgive myself when I forget.

Wrinkled clothes, crooked bows, gum in the dog's fur?

Hey at least I started recycling.

Plus, God invented doors and ponytails for a reason - to hide the mess.

No, I am not "THAT Mom" 

I am "That One Mom".  

That imperfect, opinionated, coffee fueled, slightly loud, sometimes funny one - with ponytail.  

Welcome.