Armor of love

"Who are you?" "Who is the real writer of this blog?" "I have no idea who this person is." These are all phrases that came from the mouth of my silly husband as he caught up on my blogs last night. I think he realized that although I may act and speak like a big ol' blank bug, there's something deep within the crevasse of my brain. I don't speak out very easily, so more often than not he gets "uh huh", or "okie dokie." That's not very smart on my part because, just like what happened last night, my husband gets a whiff of "Cara a la blog" and questions my person.

At 30 years old, I'm still trying to discover myself and figure out who I am. Sure, I'm a mother, a wife, a homemaker, a cleaner and a cook. But, really, WHO am I? The last time I remember thinking about this question in all seriousness was when I was a senior in high school. I was so close to figuring out who I was and in some crazy, spectacular instance, I drifted off course. That year I was in the big choir and I was in the jazz choir. Yeah, you think jazz choir and you probably think "glee club". But it was more than that. That jazz group was my life, as was it for everyone else in it. We began our practice at 6:30AM and often had rehearsals for gigs after school. We performed at high end functions, toured the state and competed and even got to compete in an international music festival in Anaheim that year. We came in 2nd place. At the end of the year we recorded our work into an album that I still have yet to get my hands on. But, that music was what I wanted. In one class we had to write 100 things we hope to accomplish in our lives. My top pick? Attend Julliard school of Music and go on to be a great singer. Well, that obviously didn't happen, as the most singing I do is behind the wheel of my car, or while holding a baby heading off to sleep. I still dream of myself up on a stage holding on to my microphone, singing to my followers, living the life. Funny that when I lay that out to read, I picture a Hannah Montana concert which is so NOT what I was going for. Ha. So, at this moment I'm scrubbing barf off my shoulders, getting the ketchup out of my hair and looking at my calloused feet. That's music, but only a mother could understand and appreciate it.

I have thought quite a bit about how I represent myself to people, and what they think of me. I know, pretty silly, huh? We all do it, I just have the typers balls to admit it here. I WORRY ABOUT WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF ME. I have said that I don't care, but I'm full of crap when I do. I swear, even when I shouldn't and according to my daughter I owe her about $50 worth of quarters for my lip slips. ((She owes quadruple that for stinky behavior.)) I wear a slimmer thingy under all my clothes, no matter the temperature, so so my rolls aren't as prominent. I'm not always comfortable, but I look better than I would without it! No matter how you roll the dice, I'm always trying to make things appear better for me than they are! Kinda like wearing a mask all the time, but for me, it's more like body armor. Pretty up the hobbit feet, cover up the momma bags, and talk like I'm an etiquette teacher. Ha....I've caught a few people with their walls down and it's pretty funny. I bet, if we all let our hair down all the time and stopped worrying about impressing others that we'd resemble a bunch of kindergartners at Monday morning show and tell. Now THAT would be somethin' funny!

I think I may have a new Idol in my life..........Kathy Griffin. That woman, though crude, is the most honest, hysterically funny woman I have ever heard. I love watching her stand up routines and can't help but relate to many of her experiences and stories. I think I envy her because she is the person I wish I could be. And, on top of her brutally honest vocal ability, the woman has the body I would looooooove to have. Of course, knowing hollywood, she's probably sportin' a spanx underneath all those designer labels. I guess I'll just stick with my armor and try to be more open and honest so people know who I am. Besides, if I can look as good as I do once I've become a mighty momma in nylon lining armor, imagine what I could pull off if I lost the last decade worth of baby weight! OOoooooh....a mission!