Saturday, June 5, 2010

"My Name is Cotton and I'm a Blogaholic"

First off you have to click on the cartoon! (I'll wait.)

I try not to embarrass my kids TOO much on my blog...although they have embarrassed me so many times over the years I've simply lost count. Our family is such a goofy and eclectic group (yeah I'm the MAIN goofball) that the material is usually too good to pass up. They'll thank me for it one day when I turn my blog into a book and they are all suddenly famous (and their Mom's rich.)

Probability of that happening is slim to none, but HEY a gal can dream.

I could blog about my husband all I want and he'd never know, he's only recently become savvy with logging onto the bank account. He knows I talk about him here but he couldn't remember a password to save his life, unless I wrote it on his forehead back words so he could read it in the mirror.

He is a wonderful man and a great father but ask him to print something off on the computer and he hits every wrong button you can, backs up the printer by hitting print over and over and over again and has no patience for technology. I guess being married to me has used up all his patience and then some!

I have had a rough past year but we are fighting our way back to the middle and happy to be approaching it.
I have a new job that I love and that seems to love me. I work with servers half my age and enjoy it tremendously. Tonight at work, one of my favorite servers was back in the kitchen with me. I was polishing silverware and she was scarfing down a delicious looking sandwich. Our restaurant makes the most amazing food I have ever seen and they don't hesitate to fill us up with their delicious food.

She washed her hands and was headed back out front to check on the one table she had left...she turned to me, ran her tongue over her teeth swallowed hard and said "Do I have any basil stuck in my teeth?" You know me, I didn't miss a beat and said quite emphatically "OH MY GOD!!"

She almost blew the sandwich out of her nose laughing.

I love working with young people. I love older people..and I fall somewhere in the middle. I know that I am approaching the half century mark. It is scary and then again it is amazing.

I have three kids that definitely keep me on my toes...or maybe that is me trying to sneak away from them.

Three months ago I was curled into a ball in my bed wanting the world to go away. Now I am up and moving forward, not looking back but remembering how far I have come.

To me that seems like progression...to me that seems like heading in the right direction and making tracks.

I love my kids, I embarrass them on a daily basis but I think deep down, they think I'm a cool mom.

My co workers seem surprised when they learn I am fifty...or maybe they just like old people too.

It sounds strange to say but this blog helps me. I go back often and read all the older posts. I write about every single thing that happens to me, from the mundane to the ridiculous to the incredible.

As a kid I started a diary when I was ten years old...moved on to journals that I filled on a daily basis. I still have the diaries, I still have the journals and now I have my blog.

To be able to look back at things you wrote as a ten year old kid, look back at things you wrote when you were a misguided and wandering twenty something year old and be able to follow that trail to your half century mark is incredible to me.

Written words are my best friend...besides my sister, daughter and a select couple of friends...words are what make memories remain fresh and can bring back feelings and emotions that would be lost otherwise.

To put into print what you are feeling at an exact moment in time freezes that emotion...saves it for you to reflect on and is a feeling that is one of my fondest and dearest.

I may die tomorrow, but the "Life of Cotton" has been written onto a page in a journal or diary or been recorded here on my blog.

At the very least I will have lots to read in the Old Folks Home while I wait for one of my kids to come turn me in the bed or walk me down the halls on my walker with tennis balls attached to the front and tell me I still look good...whether they mean it or not by then won't matter...I'll have it all saved for myself and imagine there will be plenty of free time to read it all over and over again.

Looking forward to at LEAST forty more years of writings to re read and enjoy...COTTON

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