A Thick Neck Makes for a Hot Momma

GUILT.  I am carrying around an invisible cloak of it. Like Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak, my cloak of guilt is always there – you can’t see it but I sure can feel it. I’m not feeling guilty over one particular thing, but all sorts of small doses of guilt making that cloak heavier and heavier. I know a lot of people that just do not feel guilt, but for some reason, I feel it weighing on me and I carry it with me wherever I go. I would like to become someone who doesn’t feel it so much. A little guilt is ok – it keeps you grounded. But a lot of guilt probably isn't very healthy. Again, I haven’t done any horrible deed and I am not keeping anything a big secret here – it could be guilt over passing on bad genes to the kids (not the denim ones) or guilt over something I have said or even thought. Guilt that shouldn’t affect me for so long. I thought I would look into ways of freeing up some of this weight /guilt :


Last night my daughter was doing some math homework, she was apparently supposed to measure things – she was going around the room with her ruler and I was , well TRUTHFULLY (Step 1 is to: ADMIT the truth) I was blogging. (Feeling SOOO much better already!)

At one point my daughter started to measure ME. With a Ruler. We don’t have a tape measure. (Step 2: Don’t make excuses) I could tell you WHY we do not have a tape measure, but I’ll refrain.

While reading my favorite blogs and making my comments, yes, I was aware that my measurements were being recorded on a math paper. It didn’t occur to me until this morning what my measurements from a ruler made me look like. But let me put it this way:

According to the good ole wooden ruler measuring method, my neck is 19 inches around. Yes, you read it right, 19 inches. My arm span is 2 ½ feet. My height is 63 inches (actually correct) and my torso is 48 of those 63. My foot is 6 inches. (Step 3: Don’t try to be perfect all the time.) GOT IT. If I was trying harder to be less than perfect, I would have won a medal.

My daughter told me she was all done with her homework and I signed her assignment book – Yep. Done.

Today, while in the shower (where ALL my best thinking happens) I started to think about those measurements she had called out while I was blogging away.

Cue HORROR Music here:

My daughter’s teacher is going to picture me as a WIDE necked person with very short arms, VERY short legs and an abnormally long torso all held up by little feet. (Step 4: Learn humility)

Do you think it is OK for me to race home from work and walk right into the classroom so the teacher and all the other 20-30 teachers that had a good laugh at my expense could see me? THE REAL ME??

(Step 5: Learn from your mistakes) I will NEVER do homework and blog at the same time again.

I feel so much less guilty already.

SHE DIDN’T GET MY HUBBY’S GENES, SHE GOT MINE.

Feeling a centimeter less guilty now, How are YOU?