I’ve discovered a purpose for Twitter…or at least my Twitter account…shit my kids say…I’m sure I’m not the first to use #shitmykidssay, but I’m definitely using the heck out of it now!
In the past few days, here’s what I’ve heard:
Aidan to Sean: “Be a man!”
Sean: “Don’t race, Mommy. The wheels spawn and spawn.”
Sean: “The rain makes me sick.”
Sean: “You heard me? I was farting.”
Aidan: “When will I get my tonsils out?”
Sean: “When we get home, I’m going to poop in the potty, Mommy…and then show it to you.”
Aidan: “My teacher said if its your mess, you clean it up, even in the bathroom. And I’ve never had a drip until today.”
Yeah, that’s Twitter GOLD right there, people…so if you’re on Twitter, feel free to follow me and find out what one of them says next.
I’ve had a couple of comments about the name of my blog – Independent Michaela (which is also my email address) – so I thought I’d explain it.
There’s not much to explain (how’s that for anticlimactic?). Several weeks ago, for the first time in my adult life (I’ll be saying that a lot), I needed to sign up for a new email address. I needed something that didn’t contain my last name because it will change…eventually. But I wanted something that had meaning to me.
I’ve never been good with titles and names. That’s too few words to describe something. I’m a talker, an explainer…I’ll explain what I’m about to tell you, and spend 5 minutes giving background information, before I ever get to the point. Twitter is hard for me.
So there I am at Google, signing up for a non-work related, non-“Benjamin” email…and the word that kept coming to mind was Independent.
At the time, it was sort of this fuzzy concept…something I was striving for. My family has told me for as long as I can remember that I’m extremely independent. My Almost-Ex hated it about me. But I’ve never felt independent.
The day I had to decide, over the phone, to let the mechanic do $1100 worth of work to the car, and yeah, I’ll apply for a Tires Plus credit card (’cause how ELSE was I going to pay for that much work?), and I made the decision on my own, I knew I was inching, slowly, towards independence. It’s a small thing for most…but it was momentous to me. The $1100 made it that much more…special…yeah, that’s the word…special.
It’s still a concept to me…but don’t ask my family or close friends. They’ll tell you I’m maddeningly independent…make-you-want-to-smack-someone independent…feel-sorry-for-the-next-man-in-my-life independent.
I just keep thinking of this…