CONFESSIONS OF A FACEBOOK FAILURE: Year 2

Day 2: I lied to the little, old lady at church. Rather, the smile that I used to mask the mania may have allowed for assumptions, implying a lie. So I lied to the little, old lady at church. Time for my confessional…
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A year ago yesterday, I decided to switch out my selfies for shame, in an attempt to change the face of this fiction. So in the spirit of giving, I am gifting y’all once again with a daily dose of self-esteem, in knowing that no matter how bad it gets, mine is probably way worse. I hope you enjoy diving into my daily, dirty little secrets this December.

Now, back to today’s sinful spoils…

My darlings dress themselves most days. Not as an intentional means of nurturing independence. Not as a thoughtful decision to spark self-esteem. No, while I embrace the academia that supports my fashion negligence, the sad, mad parade of stripes and dots and costume box finds are actually just the result of my white flag, times-up, defeat. I admit it.

So when the little, old lady at church came upon us, baring compliments for my kiddo’s creative ensembles and praising my parenting in allowing my littles to look the part of independence, I smiled. Her assumptions of this audacity in oddity having sprung from my little beasts was correct…

…or would have been on any other day.

But this morning, THIS morning, the dress-up disaster was intentional, and all my own. In an effort to try on the concept of being on time, I had dared to lay out their looks the night before, while they were unconscious and unable to argue with my genius. In an attempt to connect with the cool kids (rather, the cool kids’ “-rents”), I had thoughtfully fashioned my trendy toddlers with the edgiest in Osh Kosh…

…or so I thought. This was my sad, mad attempt to “make it work.”

I guess it wasn’t working.
I guess I broke it.

So instead of admitting to my fashion failure like a sane person, I smiled at the little, old church lady, silently blaming my beasts for the bad fashion I’d bullied them into.

No more. Effort and I just don’t seem to match. I am dressing myself up in my white flag for good, and letting the little ones clothe themselves in independence and self-esteem instead.

And in the spirit of my long dead Grateful 365 Project, I have decided to switch my shame to celebration, in an attempt to laugh and learn and embrace the ugly.

Grateful 365 Day 126: Waving the white flag.

If you can relate, please LIKE, or SHARE, or FOLLOW, or read some more.

Help me avoid the morning-after-writer’s-remorse that wells from the paranoia of my signature self-shaming, by giving me your virtual nod and smile, and I will promise to divulge deeper despairs in days to come.