Unsolved Mysteries

This week I got to thinking about all of the mysteries of life; it seems that it is chock full of them. I don’t like to leave so many questions unanswered, so I’m reaching out to you for some answers. Here are some of the conundrums that continue to plague me…

How is it possible that at 6:30am I am fresh faced and made up, but by 9:00am I am wearing no makeup at all, and can fry a fish with the oil on my forehead?

How is it that on weekdays it is near-impossible to wake my offspring up for school at 6:30, and can be likened to getting socks onto a limp spaghetti noodle, but on Saturday and Sunday they are up as early as 6:15 because they just aren’t tired??

How is it possible that after all these years as a teacher I still haven’t figured out how to budget through summer? (I mean, it is no surprise that the paychecks are going to stop. Duh.)

How is it that I used to whip myself into shape by doing two quick workouts and taking ย one day off of dessert, but now when I really buckle down and work out 3-4 times a week and reduce most of my sugar it takes infinity days to see any difference???

How is it that an Instagram mom will look so effortlessly cool in a slip dress and trendy sneakers, but I look like a deranged auntie or a commuting woman from 1986????

How is it that everyday at 4:00 it feels as if someone has replaced the blood in my body with pond sludge, and that I will never ever ever make it until bedtime? I’ve been tempted to either nap on the side of the 405 or let my ten-year-old drive us home.

How is it that when I was younger I actually wore a blue-sequined bra to pump gas at a Chevron, because I considered it a shirt (crazy, but true. And also, sorry mom.), but now I can’t seem to find shorts that I find appropriate? I either feel like a Pentecostal woman or a teenage hoochie mama.

How is it that my son, who specializes in moving slowly and destruction, can take 3 goldfish crackers and turn them into 76 pounds of debris in the backseat of my car?

How is it that when I’m sick I can work a full day, take my kids to their activities, fold a load of laundry and arrange for the evening meal, but when the hubby is sick he retires to his chamber and everyone just leaves him alone?

How is it that I am constantly in possession of a full-page Target list? This is true even when I’m loading bags into my car inside the Target parking lot.

How is it that when I attempt to replicate a Pinterest design or craft it looks like it was done by a drunk toddler?

How is it that I can be so hung-ho on a resolution Sunday night, but on Monday afternoon I am buying $20 worth of chili dogs?

How is it that my children can walk up a flight of stairs and pull back the shower curtain to ask me for a snack, while their dad is literally standing at the kitchen counter?

How is it that when my husband is out with his friends the hours pass like eternities, but when I get a few hours with a girlfriend it is over with in 5 minutes?

How is it that I am desperate for a good night’s sleep without a toddler in my spine, but the second I get a night without her I miss her and wish she would wake up and sneak down to our room?

How is it that I could walk around in my body for 40 years and not know how tall am I? (If I knew, I’m assuming every person I meet would not need to tell me. Amirite?)

How is it that I can never ever ever quite get the spacing right on my message board?

How is it that dinner time is still a surprise every night? (What? They want to eat again? How is it possible?)

How is it that…..(fill in the blank!)

I know that I’m not alone here, so I’d love to hear some of your unsolved mysteries. Leave a comment to let me know what you’re still trying to figure out.

Authentically,

Amber

 

 

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