It’s not my best look. I call it “just rolled out of bed not even wearing my cute glasses wearing my favorite sweater and only two sips in to a cup of coffee” chic.
I just wanted to sit down this morning and say Hey you guys! Yesterday afternoon yours truly was Freshly Pressed and with that comes scads (gobs? hordes? what shall I call you?) of new readers that deserve a little shout out.
It didn’t seem right to get all fancied up and try and be something I am not and dazzle you. So. Here I am. This is where I usually am. In my chair with the kiddo on the boob. This morning is cold so I am enjoying one of the four (four!) cowl neck scarves I have recently crocheted. Yeah. I am a woman that crochets, guys. I don’t know how it happened. Sometime this winter when I realized I had watched everything on my DVR and every single series on Hulu I decided I needed to find something else to do while Lucy slept in my lap. So, yeah, I crochet. And I am impatient. Cowl neck scarf – the four hour project – we are pals. Stick around and maybe I will send you one if your neck looks particularly cold.
I wish I had more time this morning but I am trying to get out the door.
You know when you do something that you kind of think is awesome but you aren’t sure if it is totally absurd. You’re not embarrassed exactly, but you’re not sure if people that know you would think “Oh, that is strange. You don’t really do that, do you?” When I was fourteen I bought a hot pink swing dress and purple polka-dotted tights to wear to my boyfriend’s graduation. (It was 1991, it was a hot look.) Previously I had been seen in my overalls. Pretty much every day. I thought the dress was cute. I thought it was kind of adorably Molly Ringwald-ish, actually. But I wondered if it was “me.”
I don’t work hard to stay in my “me” box. But I think we all have a type. Not long ago I was horrified when I realized I had Mom-hair but I owned it. In fact, I declared myself to be the Samue L. Jackson of Motherhood and decided that in spite of my hair I was a bad motherfucker.
So, I am yammering on because I am not sure I can admit this. I like to work out. It keeps me from being totally mental. I run. I actually love p90x. I am not afraid of the weight room and I don’t really wear “cute outfits” to the gym. I like to get sweaty. But this morning I am going to do something I have been talking about doing forever. And I might get hysterical and get kicked out but I am going for it. I am going to Zumba, guys. Zumba bills itself as a sexy Jazzercise. Take a minute to chew on that. Sexy. Jazzercise. I hope they serve margaritas. I am going to need one. Or four.
So, a big fat “hello” and “happy to meet you” and “what took you so long let’s be best friends!” to the new readers. I gotta jet. Get my sweat on. Oh, and shake my moneymaker. Because apparently when I am not busy being a bad motherfucker or crocheting I go to Zumba. Sigh. The latter half of my third decade is going to be weird. I can feel it.
Excitement on the side 
Wow. I’ve been away a looooong time. You were FP’d?! So proud of you. Zumba and I are besties.. It’s what got me loving exercise. I just recently tried Hot Hula. I feel like the biggest dork on the island, but it’s fun. The other day I decided to start a couch to 5k. I don’t know what I’m thinking.
Exercise, man…. it’s like free drugs!!!
I know! It’s crazy!
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You look great!
Flattery will get you everywhere. Go on. Really… keep it up. ;)
I’m slow this week, super huge congrats on being freshly pressed! I am uber-jealous and you totally deserve it. Everyone should read what you have to say!
Ha!! I am considering this as a new platform “Everyone should read what I have to say!!” Thanks!!
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Big congrats on being pressed! Totally cool for you to share your true voice about what you believe :)
Thank you thank you!! :)
Can’t wait to hear of your Zumba adventures. Mine involved some face-planting into mirrored walls and getting hip-hop smoked by the 70+ crowd. Them ladies can SHAKE it, girl.
Two words – Senior Center. First class was poorly attended because of the snow. It was me and two other gals I know. And a 70 year old dude. The laughs are worth it.
Congrats on FP!!!
Congrats on the FP. And with your admission of working out, I now realize why I like you so much. :) Hope you had fun at Zumba. I have a few friends who teach it, but I’ve only ever watched a class myself. The timing of it all just never works out, but I know I’d like it!
It is crazy fun. Crazy. Fun.
Zumba is fun!! Sweat it out girl!
I tried zumba a few weeks ago. I’m going to stick to weight lifting.
I felt silly, but I had so much fun. The hour went by so quickly and I am hopeful it is easier on my knees than running. I do not see myself giving u anything else for it – but it is a pretty killer way to spend a Saturday morning.
mom hair and zumba. love it!
I have liked you for a while, but now that has turned to love thanks to Sloth! Goonies never say die!
You are going to like Zumba. I recall a post you wrote awhile back where you talked about going to a dancey church. Zumba is a lot like that. You feel like a weirdo at first and then you realize it is Good. Have fun! And I’ll be by this afternoon to pick up my cowl neck.
I love the neck cowl scarf. 4 hours? I’d need 4 years. My patience is fickle when it comes to things like this. I don’t think I have the right something to make it all work.
Let us know if you get your Zumba on. I’ve heard it’s a sweaty one!
I love that in the 10+ years I have known you. You went from the crazy single partying Kelly to this crazy married mom Kelly! We sure have evolved over that time period and I love ya more each day!!!
Oh yeah and I would LOVE a scarf!!! ;)
I still can’t wrap my mind around this new kind of crazy, Rikki.
Do I get a scarf for reading before you were Freshly Pressed? Foes this make me some kind of blogger Hipster? I hope not.
I think actually it is the scarf that would make you a hipster. See Le Clown for a reference. ;)
Nevermind then. I certainly don’t want to be one of THOSE.
Certainly not. Hrrrmph.
You do many things I do not. Very strange. All things that are not me are strange. The fear is building. I need a cowl neck to hide in.
Cowl necks make good hiding spots. I do the strange things. But I drink the wine. I am not all scary.
Wine is the great equalizer.