She’s one hot mess if I’ve ever seen one.
In a weird, twisty, deep-down-in-my-soul kind of way, I’m newly fond of Kate Gosselin.
|Deer hunting and bountiful puppies is how they do!|
Ugh, I know. De-friend, unfollow, blacklist me. After all the crap in her life that’s been publically and humiliatingly fleshed out for the world to judge and snicker at, there’s not much left to like about her, right? Sure, it was the asymmetric and obnoxiously trendy haircut first. Mostly harmless but throw in the nasty divorce, bodyguard scandal, overly botoxed eyes, unruly kids, AND Dancing With The Stars? She’s one hot mess if I’ve ever seen one.
And definitely not someone you'd ever take parenting advice from, huh?
|King meets one of his great grandmothers in NY.|
Patrick, King, and I just got back from a luxuriously long visit to upstate New York last night and upon my return to our Los Angeles apartment, I just lost it. Like hyperventilating, hiccupping, blubbering with mascara-dripping-down-my-face LOST IT. Like Charlotte from Sex and the City 2 locking herself in her kitchen pantry to escape her relentless crying kids variety of LOST IT.
I can’t pinpoint specifically what had me jumping off the deep end but I suspect it had something to do with coming back to the daily grind of my reality as a stay-at-home mom. I love King more than I love myself but with very little family and community support in bustling L.A., raising a bitty baby is a far cry from the cozy dollhouse make-believe shiz I grew up playing with. So leaving New York where we had a lot of help from Patrick’s family to come back to L.A. was hard for me.
Somewhere between the “I can’t do this anymore”s and the “I feel so trapped in all of this” spewing out of my mouth last night, I found myself escaping to my bathroom to try to find some semblance of sanity and calm lest I completely and irreversibly scar my dear child’s life forever with my manic episode. I sat on the edge of my bathtub doing the hee-hee breathing I learned from labor and saw the image of a flawless blonde on the cover of a People magazine I’d stashed away as bathroom reading material a few weeks ago.
It was Kate Gosselin, clad in none other than a barely-there white bikini, and try as I might just stay out of her life and how she got that perfect beach body, I still proceeded to aggressively flip through the magazine to find her feature article as if my life depended on it. And considering last night, it probably did.
Back to Kate, her velvety tanned body and those abs—THOSE abs!—sent a twinge of envy as I felt the extra folds of skin on my stomach I now carry from having one child. And she had eight. Ugh. Yes, there is so much to dislike about Kate and then, nestled somewhere between her dieting advice and beauty tips, she threw in three simple words that sang like divination from the angels above: “Just keep going.”
Really, Kate? Is it that simple? Just keep going? I looked at her cover picture again, her proud smile and glittering eyes beaming with inner satisfaction, and maybe this mama DOES know a thing or two about parenthood. About life. So just keep going she says. Okay, I guess I have no other choice, I whispered to myself as I wiped my tears dry with toilet paper.
I came out of hiding and walked back to the bedroom where Patrick and King cuddled up in, my boys holding each other close while waiting for me to enter my life again as Mommy and just keep going. Just keep going, one foot in front of the other.
Just keep going.
|King on Thanksgiving day.|
|So many presents you'd think it were Christmas.|
|Other great Grandma!|
|On our flight back to sunny Cali, King celebrated the welcome warmth of the west by shedding his clothes on the plane.|
|View of Los Angeles from our plane.|