Google image search responsible parent and this is what you get...
Okay. I've got some complaining to do.
It seems that everywhere I go people think I am Hendrix's nanny. OR a very young teen mom.
I look young. I get it. I could pass for 16 which is ten years younger than my real age.
I'm 4'11. and a half. I have to throw in the half because when your this short that half is like a freakin mile. Also, I weigh 88ish lbs.
I'm the size of the average 5th grader.
I'm sick of being small. I'm over it. I really don't see some crazy growth spurt in my future so I've always just dealt with it. I used to wear high, higher, the highest heels, and cute little dresses and I worked that whole petite thing into the ground.
But. It's different now.
I want to be taken serious. I wanna wear business suits and mom butt jeans and banana clips.Drive a station wagon, have lots of bank accounts with money in them with savings for the kids, and wear sensible shoes in the winter. I want to scream out loud "I'M THE MOM" but since running around the playground yelling at the top of your lungs would probably garner more negative attention I try to retrain myself. I desperately want to exude that 'Hai, I'm an adult.I'm responsible! I swear! I feed him well and bathe him and care for him just as good as you and your JC Penny casual and Revlon lipstick" kind of vibe.
Not that any of that matters to me.
BECAUSE IT DOES NOT.
Truth be told I don't want ANY of those things. If I wore mom butt jeans and clogs and old Navy Fleeces what not I would probably sink into a deep depression. I love my "look" and I don't want to abandon who I am but I am so sick of people thinking I'm 17.
Why do I even care?
I feel like Hendrix deserves that. A lot of the other moms at the playground sit around in their little
I have no problem being friends with those who dress nothing like me or have vastly different taste in
Ugh, this post is horrible. I'm not even making sense but whatever. Let's pretend we are sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and I'm just a friend rambling, k? Forget grammar and punctuation and all that other bloggy crap.
What do I do? Just throw in the towel and start shopping in the Newport News catalogue and start watching Nancy Grace? I'm like the only chick in her mid twenties trying to age herself.
What am I gonna do when H is in grade school and I look younger than his classmates?
Side Note: The more I blog, The more I learn about myself. Today's Lesson?
I seem to have a very warped perception of adulthood.