My step-daughter had her first pimple this morning. She walked into my bathroom with a confused look on her face and said, “There’s this weird pump on my nose that’s bothering me”.
Pulling her by her shirt sleeve into the light of the mirror, sure enough right smack dap in the middle of her cute, button nose was her very first zit. Upon my initial discovery, it became my mission in life to pop it and announce victory over the clogged pore. Ignoring her moans and “ouches” I poked and prodded at the thing until I realized it just wasn’t ready to pop. I drew back and recognized that I was only making the thing worse. Not only did she have a zit but now she had a red nose and her step-mom’s finger indentions on the side of her face. She was going to have to go to school with a zit on her nose and there was nothing I could do about it.
I tapped her on the butt and sent her on her way. I felt guilty but not really because when I was in 6th grade I got caught stuffing my bra and was on the 3rd string of the B-team basketball team.—it doesn’t get more pitiable and uneasy than that. And did I mention I didn’t start my period until high school??? Yep, I was a looser.
I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. It’s funny I have a tendency to “over share” to you guys about bowel movements, sex and when my last bikini wax was, but often I find myself less inclined to share the hard truths of I’m sad or stressed or sometimes how I feel life isn’t fair.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am fully aware of the blessings in my life. But honestly a lot of things that have been out of my hands have given me a recent spell of restlessness and lack of peace. I feel like the zit on my step-daughter’s nose—like I’m ready to pop any minute but I can’t so I just stay put like a giant eye-sore.
Because of this I haven’t been sleeping well and I think I’ve developed a stomach ulcer. When I do sleep, I have these crazy weird dreams—and unfortunately not the good kind where people are frolicking around naked.
I like to give you guys the impression that I know all the answers. That I’m so wise beyond my years and you run to my blog for astute guidance and incisive advice. Kind of like the Dali Lama in heels….holding a glass of wine…..sitting on the toilet…..reading US Weekly…..whilst writing a blog.
But, I’ve got to be honest; I don’t really know what to do next. Cling to my family during this personal trial in my life. Appreciate my husband and my blessings. Pray. Try and get over it.
I’m sure some of you are cackling in delight thinking, “Finally, she understands that she’s crazy!” and you think I need to be locked in a padded cell and playing ring around the rosey with myself all day long.
Sigh. There’s really no sum up or conclusion to this blog. And who knows maybe this is all stemming from the Egg Salad sandwich.