Showing posts with label The Gypsy Mama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Gypsy Mama. Show all posts

Friday, September 9, 2011

Five Minute Friday: In Real Life

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In real life I wonder if I am the opposite as what I am “in real blog.”  In real life, I say “so,” “like",” “you know?” and “I had an idea.”  A lot. In real life, whenever you see . . . . on your computer screen . . . .I do that a lot in real life.  It’s called, “I started a sentence.  Stopped.  And started a new sentence because I had a new thought.”  But eventually I do get around to the point.  Those dots . . . I can’t seem to write without them.  Every blog post has them.  They started because when I began using them, I received more comments.  People commented that my writing had improved.  That actually was an anonymous commenter.  No idea who they were.  But it seriously affected my writing style.  So I kept writing in my made-up blog language instead of in real life language.  But now I almost feel married to blog language.  The two worlds have almost become one.  Except I do know reality versus online life.  They both are real.  {Smiles}But I have to make sure to invest in the in real life reality more.  Which is difficult for me because I write better than I talk.  Just like I look better on my blog than I do in real person.  I suppose  you could say then in summary that in real life I am quite vain.  Thankfully, I have a Savior who is dealing with that vanity and replacing His image on mine . . . covering my imperfections and making me into something new this past year.    It’s been rough in real life.  But much better . . .

STOP.

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(Don’t you wonder what I was going to write?  Sorry, can’t tell you.  The timer stopped.  Literally.  I do time myself for these posts.)

Friday, August 26, 2011

Five Minute Friday: Older

Older. 

I have come to realize this year that we are becoming the “older” people at church.

The ones with kids that run all over the church, while  younger parents clutch their children close.

The parents who are in activities.  Rather, their kids are in activities.

I’m older.

When someone in their twenties sees me at worship, they don’t think of me as a spring chicken.  Instead, they think of me as someone to ask a parenting question of because I have been there and done that.

I am not of the geriatric generation.

But the busy-with-one-gray-hair-generation.

The minivan mom.

The generation who grew up watching Oprah for their afterschool special.  The one who had a drawer-full of Wonder-Roo’s. 

I am the soccer mom. 

The mom with smiles creases at the edge of her eyes that fans out, adding character to my haggard look. 

But though I am older, my mind still thinks like I am still in high school. 

My thoughts still frisky with love for my husband.  Mischievous enough to still desire to pull pranks. 

STOP.

I love doing this.  Writing under pressure.

Read more posts regarding the subject of “older” over at The Gypsy Mama.