Please Accept My Apology For Being Socially Awkward

So you know how I said that I annoy myself that one time? Well, apparently, I also embarrass myself. Ahem. About that post yesterday….

I went to bed last night and was thinking about it. And, suddenly became ridiculously embarrassed by it. Why? Well, I don’t know. For one, I took a selfie. UGH!! And, two, it all felt a little too narcissistic. Who cares about my gray hairs but me? And, three, it seemed like I was fishing for compliments. I wasn’t. It just all felt like a stretch. I don’t think all happy and positive thoughts about my wrinkles! Like, ever. But, I guess that’s why I love writing, because it does allow me to think more positively. Almost all the time, if I can just write out what I’m feeling, I see the flaws in my thinking, and can correct them. Sometimes, it’s just an embarrassing result.

I sat in front of the computer yesterday trying to think of something to write, and my mind was literally blank. Then I remembered those pictures. And decided to make a blog post out of it. It was still true. I mean, c’mon, we should all love ourselves more. And, I was reading about the word antique, and I DID have all those thoughts, but I don’t know. It just felt all too wrapped up in myself. Bleh.

But, I’ve decided I won’t delete blog posts I hate. I will just quickly post something else in the hopes that no one else will remember that one time I wrote about my gray hairs. That photo of Jack Nicholson was priceless though. I don’t regret that.

Moving on.

Today, I’ve been ridiculously productive. Mopped my floors at 7 am, shopped for and successfully bought all my daughter’s school supplies, and then came home, fed two kids, and cleaned two bathrooms. Now, I’m celebrating by letting my kids play a video game while I sit here and blog about how embarrassingly awkward I can be.

So, let’s move onto something I think I need to get off my chest.

I hate sand.

I especially hate sand on small children.

Combine that with RED sand (who knew there was such a thing?) and it just makes me plain grouchy.

Like sand itself isn’t bad enough, we have to make it RED???

In Texas, we had this red clay  IRON ORE SOIL (thanks for calling me and correcting me, Dad. On a side note-iron ore is a “deposit in clay soil that can stain your toilet and other fixtures.” I bet you will all sleep better tonight knowing that. And, in GA, there is a red GA clay that is even worse!! He wanted you all to know that). It was hard as concrete, and by no means could pass as dirt. But, everyone had it….And, if you were unfortunate enough to get caught in a rainstorm in your new white shoes in it? Forget it. You might as well kiss your Keds good-bye. I’m assuming that the red clay iron ore soil is still there in Texas (and GA), but I don’t miss it.

And, then I went to a garden museum place with some friends yesterday, and there it was. A giant VAT of red sand. I had flashbacks of the red clay that my parents used to curse growing up. I scanned what my kids were wearing, and I started panicking. Out loud, of course.  What if it doesn’t come out? Don’t sit down in it. Crap. Chandler has his best shoes on. Avery, you’re all wet! (they had a splash pad too) don’t get sand on your dress.

My sweet friend, Rayna, who for some odd reason loves me despite all my issues, just said, “Well, what’s the worst that could happen? They ruin their clothes that they are going to grow out of anyways”.

Hmmm. Well, when you put it that way. Please excuse me for being so awkward about my issues. So, I laughed at myself being so high strung about everything, and I made a secret list in my head of why I hate sand so much.

Here are at least 10 reasons I hate sand.

Sand hides in hair

Sand in between toes

Sand in my car

Sand sticks to wet stuff (and wet little people)

Sand flies in your eyes and makes you cry if you are 4.

Sand gets in your mouth and you don’t even know how/why

Sand lingers like a friend you can’t get rid of

Sand is grainy

Sand is basically dirt that we like to think is “clean” dirt. I bet it’s not.

Sand is hot when it has been sitting in the sun and it is red.

Why do people love the beach? I just don’t get it. And, more importantly, why do I have a sandbox in my backyard?

I feel so much better now. And the shoes?

I washed them, and they look brand-spanking new. All those heart palpitations for NOTHING!