To Live Will be an Awfully Great Adventure

Okay, hi. Did you make it through my previous post? That was a long one. Now we can have some real talk.

…because this is maybe the sloppiest post I’ve ever written.

I just can’t make it flow, like the OMGIHAVENTSEENYOUINTHREEYEARSHOWAREYOU kind of conversation you yell at your long lost friend at school pickup: both in giant sunglasses with no makeup, both talking like you overdosed on pre-workout and yelling the last few sentences out the car window.

It’s a vibe.

But really, there have been some changes. Notably, two that I would like to address that will inevitably change the voice of Fluent in Blonde:

  1. I am actually possibly in a different vortex now.

Makes me want to sing that Adele “Hello from the other side,” verse, but it’s too overused and I’m trying not to be basic.

With any kind of sudden life reroute, regardless of the cause, you’re in disoriented denial for a bit. You know the feeling? Where you’re like, “This can’t be happening, I think I’m in the wrong place, maybe the wrong life. Freaky Friday was maybe based on real events.” Kind of like that walking-into-the-wrong-classroom-in-high-school feeling…but get comfortable and have a seat, because it’s your new life. Hello and WELCOME!

So, let me tell you about the vortex.

The women here are super beautiful. All of them. It looks like most change out of athleisure, don’t pee when they sneeze, and have Instagram highlights filled with high quality selfies and travel bubbles. TRAVEL BUBBLES! How fun! Their boobs are incredible in all the travel bubbles, too! Thailand looks like it’s been popular in recent years. These women look happy and glowy and perfect. I am endlessly fascinated by this, because it couldn’t be further from my reality.

I showed up here in this other realm graham cracker crusted with Puffs stuck to my pants, a total deer in headlights, clinging to a Fawn Design bag with three pounds of fruit snack wrappers…and the only place I’m traveling is Target. Maybe the Costco food court, God and patience willing.

Well, more Covid-willing, actually.

Anyway, that could be it’s own post, but WHOA. Whiplash. Whiplash and Gucci belts.    

I better at least chip those Fruity Pebble stalactites off from under the counter.

In this single-mom vortex, it’s a race, everyday, all the time, to wherever you were supposed to be five minutes ago. If everyone remembers their shoes, it’s a win, regardless of the ETA, so realistically, TBD on the Fruity Pebble clean up.

2. I’m trying to figure out how I identify…not sexually, just as a general human, which I will continue to refer to as “identifying” because it’s my favorite of all the 2021 buzzwords.

This was brought on by figuring out how to maintain the softness of a mother with the cutthroat nature of someone trying to survive. It’s a hard switch hit. It leaves me wondering which side of me I identify with most.

I’m a grown up, adult, working mother, but I relate to so many people now, I can’t compartmentalize where exactly I belong anymore.

To the mom who just wants to ignore the to-do list to play “airplane” with her babies on the unvacuumed floor during the last days of their littleness, I see you.

To the seventeen year old, a little unsure about dating and separating your freshly mascaraed lashes with the back of an earring, we are both ridiculous, but I see you.

To the humbled person in line to submit paperwork at the Welfare Office, whose job was Covid collateral damage, I see you.

To the exhausted provider, holding their breath when they log into their bank account but still up all night with kids, I see you, and we can share 3AM chewable Tylenol and Red Bull.

To the homeschool mom hoping she is enough, I see you, too.

So, basically, it sounds like I’ve become that seven-breed mixed puppy you buy in the Walmart parking lot, and just roll the dice on how it’s going to turn out in a year.

It took me years, but after lots of books on Christ, scriptures, and conference talks, I am warming up to Peter Pan’s thoughts as an umbrella statement to cover and soothe all eventualities from all identities:

“To live will be an awfully big adventure.”

Social media travel highlights optional.