Thanks.

...because I've been an absolute monster the past few.

Forgive me, Lord.

(Lamentations 3:22-23...phew!!)

Regret

I don't like that word: regret. I don't really believe in it- we really should regret nothing in this life. Every experience, whether through some poor choice or whatever, is something we can learn from.

                                                                       BUT

I do indulge in the occasional self-loathing "pity party" and I had such a moment today. I felt overwhelmingly sad and incompetent. Soooo...when my Katy was a baby, I decided I was going to write her a letter (at least) on every birthday for her future reading pleasure. It started off wonderful. I was bubbling over with things I wanted her to know: how much I love her, all the things that happened and milestones she achieved throughout the year, etc.. I had them stashed away in a special box and added to it often. As Kennadi arrived only 13 months after Katy, I had quite a few, as I was writing them every few months as well as on their birthdays.

Something happened once Cayden was born (15 months after Kennadi if you didn't know). They became fewer and farther between. I'm pretty sure I had 12 or so in there and by Cayden's second birthday the number hadn't moved much. It really didn't bother me that much. I was busy with 3 kids..nothing to get depressed over. I was journaling alot so I had plenty to tell them in the birthday letters.

                                                                         THEN

We started moving every year or in some cases, less than a year. We always had super short notice-a week or less- so inevitably, tons of stuff got left behind every move (mainly toys & furniture). It was sad to see the kiddos upset but there wasn't much I could do about it. I'm sure you can tell where I'm going with this...yes, the box of letters got left behind. But the worst part of it is, I don't remember where it was left and even worse still, why I forgot about it for several years. It actually brought me to tears thinking of some random person finding this special box filled with precious memories and hopes and dreams for my babies and carelessly tossing it in the trash. :(

Alas and alack, I've grieved and gotten over it. I am going to start all over I think.

                                       This is the dress I'd like to purchase for Easter

but stubbornly, I will not

It's the strangest thing-I  L.O.V.E. dresses! I enjoy looking through rack upon rack, even trying them on and conjuring up places/events to wear them to. I reeeeally love them from the 50's, 60's & 80's at the local vintage store. I bought this lovlieness almost a year ago and have yet to wear it:

It's nice and light and 80's-ish. When I bought it, I envisioned a thick, funky patent leather belt w/ matching red flats. Maybe a unique headband, some chunky bracelets, and simple black bow earrings (yes..I do get detailed up in my head...it never materializes, sadly). And yet, it hangs in the back of my closet along with my"skinny clothes".

             What a depressing existence. I outta find a fashionable gal and gift it to her.....

So what's my malfunction? I severely hate the way my legs look in dresses. I dunno what it is but I am beyond self-conscious. It's more along the lines of obsessed. Pathetic, I know. It infuriates my husband. Heck, it infuriates me!! In my mind, I don't have legs..I have tree stumps. Even with leggings or nylons.

                                                        It's safe to say...I have issues.