In Your Face McGinley

I've been thinking for about the last week that if I were in a pick up basketball game with life right now life would have just said 'in your face McGinley' or perhaps instead of saying 'McGinley' it would have used an insulting term like chump. Or shit head. Or dope. Or goodness I'm old I don't know how kids insult each other these days.

I've resisted so many things as a mom. TV. Bad food. Showing my sad emotions to the kids. Showing them to anyone for that matter. Being 'one of those' paranoid moms who calls the doctor all the time about tiny little ailments. Being 'one of those' paranoid moms who worries about colds. Being 'one of those' paranoid people who uses Purell hand sanitizer 80,000 times a day.

Here I am. Purell hand sanitizer is practically prescribed to our family. The tiniest little cold, fever, touch of an ailment (including Eliot's mysterious lack of use of his right hand since he had blood drawn from it) is reason to call the doctor. And I have (shit I even called the doctor the other day and said 'I think Eliot has an ulcer' and when they asked what lead me to believe that I said 'he gets stomach aches right after he eats and my intuition'). <-- holy cow that punctuation has be wrong there.

I was thinking the other day that the universe doesn't hear negatives (I realize this isn't a new idea). When i said, 'I'm not going to be a germaphobe,' the universe heard 'I'm going to be a germaphobe'. Here we are. When I said, 'I'm not going to blah blah blah dee blah' it heard 'I'm going to blah blah blah dee blah.' And here I am. Here it is. I am all of those things now. In your face McGinley.

Oh goodness and here I am at the end of this post feeling insecure about it. Goodness. I'm posting it. Push the publish button Sara. Push it. Push it!!