The answer? Rehashing the day's events, of course.
It's not much of a secret that I'm battling a serious case of the negative nellies this holiday season and today's prognosis seemed bleak.
But instead of spending the rest of my blog whining up a storm about what didn't go my way (or what might have actually gone my way, but I didn't feel was up to par with 'my way'), I'm going to celebrate the Split Personality that was my Tuesday. Chubbyveganmom.com is my attempt to portray my real, hot-mess-of-a-mom, chubby-vegan-lifestyle-living, slightly neurotic self. So while I'm doing my darndest to focus on the good, I'm going to have to conquer some of the bad and downright ugly along the way.
We'll start with the ugly. The really, really, really ugly - my husband's ass.
Don't mistake me. Chubby Vegan Dad actually has a really, really good ass; one of those perky bubble ones in fact. But in addition to this trait, he's got a digestive system that seriously doesn't play nice - with anything. While he tries to spin these fallacies about vegan cheese and beans being the culprit for his seriously offensive digestive track, the truth is air, water and puppy kisses would cause the same reaction. And it's such a volatile reaction, that sometimes, I get angry. I seriously get angry at my husband for passing gas, because it's clearly something he can control, right?
Yeah, bet you're starting to feel really bad for my husband now (but hopefully not too much, because I have to sleep next to his stinky butt all night).
On a positive note, Pearyn is slowly moving into her cuddly phase. (I'm starting to see how easily attached I could become to attachment parenting.) I'm reaping all of these benefits and enjoying every.last.minute.of.them. Even if it means watching an extra 20 minutes of Mickey Mouse here and there or being pushed out of the bed because my 19-month-old wants to lay horizontal in between mommy and daddy. It's totally worth it.
On a less than stellar note, I've been devoured by a spider or some other evil, evil bug. I know I'm vegan and all, but if some little bug is going to get all up in my business and eat me while I'm asleep, you better believe it better not let me catch it. Seriously, it looks like I was bitten by a vampire. Two fabulous little bites on my neck, that are all sorts of itchy, sore and bruising (because my body is a big cry baby and doesn't respond to insect bites very happily).
And even though it's winter and that encourages all those Chubby Vegan Mom-chomping bugs to make their way inside, it also means I get to drink hot chocolate, lots of it. And this isn't your run-of-the-mill cocoa powder and milk hot cocoa. This is your heat up the milk and melt some vegan chocolate into it and the top it with Healthy Top's AMAZING whipped cream. Seriously, we're talking fattening, over indulgent, crazy decadent in a mug. And it's worth every.last.calorie. Trust me.
And there's this whole missing all my friends part. I love the people I'm surrounded by at home. I love my mom friends, I love my crazy hippie veggie-baby raising friends and I adore my family, but every once and a while I find myself craving (seriously) some time with my best friends. The girls who knew me before I became a mommy, before I graduated with my super awesome English degree and before I became a wife. The one who sat in our college cafeteria coming up with ways we could get out of pitching practice (my best friend and I were college softball pitchers) and conditioning (like, say, throwing ourselves down a flight of steps or developing malaria).
The one who used to chew my ass out on the pitching mound when my head was stuck in it (yes, I'm a glutton for punishment, our other bff was our catcher).
And the one who I met when I had to meet my husband's hetero life mate; the girl who sat at the bar with me playing stupid photo match games while our boyfriends verbally expressed their love over too many beers (and the same girl who subsequently racked up a really, really high bar tab for said boyfriends).
Sometimes, I feel like I need a little old me in my life, not because I don't love every minute of my life now, but to remind me that I was once someone else.
I've got a million things in this world to be grateful and happy for. And despite all the spider bites, smelly farts and bff hankerings I have, all I have to do is look at my beautiful, smart little girl and know that I did something seriously, seriously right to have her precious little self here. I don't care how cliche that sounds, sometimes cliche is exactly what needs to be said.