I was already sweating. Crammed in between chairs and dodging elbows attached to scissor wielding hands that were dancing around wet heads, I didn’t have space to take off my jacket or my huge scarf. So I stood there, smiling at the reflection of my daughter. She was silently cringing as a stranger brushed her hair, which was a hilarious contrast to the seemingly uncontrollable screeches I got treated to when I did the same thing. I caught her eye and smiled at her before getting sucked in to the conversation happening next to me.
“So you’re watching the kids today, eh?”
A small Italian man with a big New York City accent was snipping away at another man’s head, the guy’s newly shorn sons wrestling in a chair nearby.
“Giving the wife a break?”
That’s all it took. Frustration and rage boiled up inside of me until I felt like a kettle on the verge of shrieking. I felt my face become tomato red as the two men chuckled and shrugged as if they each understood what it was like to have to take one for the team.
There were so many things I wanted to say right then.
I’ve mentioned once or twice or a million times that I’m an awards show junkie. I realize that they’re silly and sometimes really boring and have little to no effect on society or my day-to-day life. But I don’t care. I like seeing people get all dressed up and sparkly and watching them cry happy tears and make heartfelt speeches. I enjoy the grand spectacle, even if some people (my husband) don’t understand it.
That said, I am also a living, breathing, woman with a shit ton of insecurities. Seeing a bunch of already beautiful women glammed up and traipsing around in dresses that cost more than what’s in my bank account can be a tiny bit depressing—especially when I’m sitting on the couch in sweatpants from college with a messy top knot and a bowl of ice cream.
Enter the Bad Ass Babes of Hollywood. These ladies took to Instagram to make sure the rest of womankind realizes that they do not wake up like that by showing us the hilarious (relatable) ways they got ready to hit the red carpet.
Forget the tiger stripes on your belly and that weird droopy pancake thing your boobs are doing now. Having a baby doesn’t just rock your body. It rocks your whole entire world. I mean, if being in charge of keeping a helpless little human alive doesn’t fill you with pure terror, I’m pretty sure nothing will.
Luckily, there have been one or two people before you who have embarked on this whole parenting adventure. And—better yet—there are some pretty famous parents who have shared hilariously relatable thoughts on parenting.
This is a serious question.
I don’t think I know one real, live person that I’ve met in the flesh who has made a resolution this year. I mean, I know plenty of people on the internet who are talking about resolutions, but did you make one?
For the last couple of years, I’ve taken a different approach to the whole resolutions thing. Instead of picking something that I know I’ll almost immediately feel like a complete failure about (see: quit sugar, lose twenty pounds, stop multitasking everything into oblivion), I’ve been choosing a word to make the theme of my year.
A theme is way less daunting than a resolution, which feels like a promise you can’t dare break—even if maybe you changed your mind about it because something came up that is infinitely more important. Resolutions are just too much freaking pressure. A theme is something I can handle.
Oriental Trading Company provided me with product for review but all opinions (and drama) are my own.
My girls get their love of crafting from me. They also get their inability to finish projects before flitting off to another creative venture from me, but you can talk to my husband about that. I prefer to concentrate on the positive. Like making pretty ornaments for our tree and to gift to friends and family.
We got a few inches of snow dumped on us on Saturday and it was the perfect time to hunker down in front of the Christmas tree and get our craft on.