Confessions of a One Girl Revolution

Confessions of a One Girl Revolution:
(I wrote this a year ago)

My eight year old tells me all the time: Mom, I can’t believe....you....have a degree.....in English.

While the thirteen year old has everything neatly folded in her drawers and my fiancé has his whole closet coordinated/color-coded/perfectly Feng Shuied, I have all my clothes in one box I stuff in the linen closet. I don’t do folding.

I once wrote a novel just to impress this guy I wanted to date, that I’d never actually met.

I’d read every romance novel ever written by the age of fourteen. Needless to say I haven’t had a lot of relationships work out. I no longer believe in romance. Give me a man who will put the toilet seat down. Now, that’s romantic.

I will reuse socks. Especially if they are my favorite ones.

I will spend $250 on a purse, but I won’t spend the money to buy two ply toilet paper.

I still secretly want to start a revolt against soccer moms. The only reason to have an SUV is if the world ends and there are no more roads.

I have been banned by the libraries in a tri-county area.

I am not allowed to own or possess a weapon for three more years.

I admire my three daughters more than any people I have ever known. I vote Jessica most likely to survive an enemy POW camp. She has more spirit and strength than any person I’ve ever met. Megean is more talented (multi-talented) than most of the artists that I’ve met in my lifetime. At the age of 12, she’d already written a 400 page book. Bridget has a quiet gentle spirit and real spiritual wisdom that I wish I had at 35 and am trying desperately not to change with my bad example.

I have lived most of my life like a guerilla fighter, using dirty tactics to survive and win the war, when what I was really doing was destroying my own soul.

I love beautiful exquisite things and excellent food but I don’t need them and honestly I’m happier with a backpack on my back, riding a bike to nowhere.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the FBI were already monitoring me. It’d make a lot of sense actually.

More than anything in the world I wish I could have the child of the man I waited my whole life for. His ex fiancee had him get a vasectomy. Maybe I’ll forgive her in the next life.

I can’t figure out how to use a palm pilot.

My brother and I used to put on the movie Savannah Smiles when my parents were gone because it made my little sister cry at the end. Every time. Damn sibling rivalry. Damn that Savannah Smiles.

Once I was so angry with my brother that I peed on his backpack.

I have always worn black. In another life I was either a ninja or a priest.

I will always be the aunt that you can come to find out the real family stories. I don’t believe in rewriting history or pretending we were always upstanding citizens. I WILL tell my nieces and nephews about the time their father stole the city’s Centennial flag by breaking into city hall and climbing out on a pole to get it. And who used to smoke pot and go toilet papering and how we used to write our names in gasoline in a pool of water on the back porch and set fire to it. I love my nieces and nephews and little cousins and would protect them with my life. I am also the one who will buy them the finger paints that will ruin the new rug.

I smoked pot once and couldn’t speak for a day and a half. That was the night I got pregnant with Megean. She says I cheated her out of ten IQ points with that one. I think that is a good thing for the world. If it weren’t for that, she’d probably already have reinvented the neutron bomb.

I’ve stopped trying to change the world because I realized that first I needed to change myself.

When it's all said and done, I can still bake a mean loaf of bread.