Did you think I croaked? Well, almost.
I turned 40.
I have a lot of catch-up to do on the blog since I last wrote, but in the mean time I just have to get a quick share out to y’all. I just read a quote that so preceisely sums up my thought about life and Motherhood that I couldn’t stand to wait to share.
(But first – and in my typical hyperactive-brain style, a tiny bit of background info is needed.)
Not too long ago (May 7th, to be exact) I posted a link to another blog on my Facebook page. I never posted it here, but, wow did it resound well with my FB friends.. even becoming a neighborhood anthem of sorts with the women around here. Some of you already know where I”m going with this, but for those of you are not reading my mind yet, you must go here and read, laugh, breathe and then come back to this post.
My Mom is here visiting from my native Mississippi for my big 40th birthday (also known as the rise of my character and decline of my body, but more on that in later posts). After posting/sharing the “Beyoncé the big metal chicken” blog post back in May, my Mom has sent me many photos and references to the chicken (which is oddly, really a rooster.) I’m still waiting for the time frame where this blog doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my 40 year old bladder isn’t challenged to maintain its muscle control. I don’t even really know why exactly I find the post so off-the-charts funny. It isn’t because those types of exchanges are happening in my house. The truth is that my WAPI is pretty great and rarely – if ever – has a problem choosing the appropriate battles to pick with me. And he’s not so crazy as to ever use the word “forbid” with me in anything other than jest. So, though I can’t much relate to the exact towel-forbidding issue that prompted the purchase of the big metal chicken, I do find the fact that men don’t understand the great importance of something like the need for new (from Macy’s obviously) towels greatly odd and equally as frustrating.
Anyway, Mom’s birthday visit has been wonderful for a litany of reasons, but probably my favorite highlight was this (on my birthday): – at 7 am, there was a pounding at my door. I opened it and there, on my doorstep….
….is Beyoncé the big (little) metal chicken. Bearing a yellow “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” sticky note. A gift from my mom.
Starting the morning laughter.. it sure makes getting older a lot easier to swallow.
Mom has referred to the gifted chicken as “Baby Beyoncé” while telling me the stories of BB’s many adventures through airports and suitcases to get to me here in Florida, so I’m now calling her Blue Ivy.* I think my friend Blue Ivy may just randomly show up on my friends’ doorsteps with a note attached that “this chicken will cut you if not returned to..” Then all the husbands in the neighborhood will ask about the chicken, hear the story and all hate me for sharing it with their wives. And we will all just laugh.
And yes, of course, I had Blue Ivy standing on a bar-towel in my WAPI’s home office (on top of his bar, you know, because every office should include a bar – with towels) when he got home from work that day. To which he responded, “I forbid you to put metal chickens in my office.” 🙂 See, he gets that I think it’s funny too, even though he doesn’t know why. And while he isn’t as entertained by her presence, Blue Ivy has had my Mom and I rolling laughing since she made her entrance into my 40-year-old life.
Now, to my point for sharing all the chicken history.
My Mom and I have a few differences in personality that become evident sometimes. Such as the fact that I read this one blog post about the big metal chicken and immediately rolled with it, never even so much as looking at the rest of the blog. My Mom, however, not only read the rest of the blog, but also researched the author. (Logical progression.) It turns out that the author of the blog has penned a memoir called “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened“. Mom shared it with me on her tablet. But just as I did with the blog, I haven’t gotten past the intro, because I loved it so much I had to share it right away. At this rate it will take me until I’m 80 to finish this book…
“This book is a love letter to my family. It’s about the surprising discovery that the most terribly human moments – the ones we want to pretend never happened – are the very same moments that make us who we are today. I’ve reserved the very best stories of my life for this book… to celebrate the strange, and to give thanks for the bizarre. Because you are defined not by life’s imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. And because there is joy in embracing – rather than running screaming from – the utter absurdity of life. I thank my family for teaching me that lesson. In spades.”
Now my friends, have I not been saying these very things all along? I just knew I was missing part of my brain; I am apparently sharing it with Jenny Lawson.
* You may want to google the real Beyoncé. Strangely enough it was brought to my attention that Beyoncé (the real one, not the big metal chicken) and I, coincidentally share the same birthday.