Memoirs in Six Words

It's amazing how difficult this  has been. I compartmentalize my thoughts in such a way that when at work, I am one person. When at home I am another.
Not sure if that makes me bi-polar or possibly schizophrenic, but it's how I have managed to live my life for a while...It works.

But for reasons that aren't important here, there are boat loads of phrases that I wish I could apply to myself, that can't or don't  apply anymore..

City Girl in the sexy suburbs...
Shoes, purses, nights out, Oh, Kids...
Kicked him in the balls, deservedly....
Stood up to fear, walked out....
Christian girl smoking in absurd heels...
Love to teach, hate to test...
Teaching compassion, missing my own family...
Giving others' children my very best...
Loving Family it's all there is...
My hysterectomy is my happiest memory
Still feel 15, with bigger boobs...
Longing for Russia, its my home..
9-11 messed up my life plan....
He took my best years, ass hat...
That little Green girl...grew up...
You don't find love, you adopt...
I haven't stopped dreaming, have you?...
Ready for change, ready for adventure...
So many hugs, all from students...
Mother, Teacher, Daughter, Chaos, Laundry, Glitter....
This girl keeps her promises, always...
I toss out toys, ninja-mom style...
Will it hurt if I crash?...
Glitter in my hair, oh well...


Ya see, I am a million people in my own head. Fabulous in one sense, a hot chocolate mess in the other. I want nothing more than to be more fabulous than mess, but  fear that I'm not..
I am not sure why I require more organization from my five year olds than I require from the Heir and the Spare, but I do. It's likely that my exhaustion at the end of the day is the best friend of my children. I am simply too tired to stay on top of them to get their laundry picked up, get their rooms clean, and drill them on their homework. Weekends are pure bliss and nightmare all jumbled into one cosmic push to somehow make up for the family work that wasn't done during the week.

But I won't stop trying.