My husband is constantly giving me crap about how when I post things on Facebook, 400 people respond. He will tease me and say "You could post that you took a dump and 50 people would like it, comment on it and repost it in 5 minutes."
I am very popular online.
I am not so popular in real life.
Don't get me wrong- I do have a lot of smart, wonderful friends. My family is quite honestly, fantastic.
Not terribly cool.
My blog is the bubble over my head that I don't always share. I am not uber successful. I have a great practice that I love, but no one is calling me from CNBC for market commentaries. There are far more unattractive pictures of me, than attractive ones (and even fewer that make it to Facebook). While I live in possibly the coolest city in the world (as told to me by a co-worker in our India office), I don't gamble, drink much or hang with celebrities on the Strip. My husband and I argue far more often than the idyllic marriage that I portray. I'm not big into posting negative things, but again, thank you to those of you who do-- it's like watching a car accident. I will say, I AM passionate about social issues, whether it be parenting, gay marriage, pet rescue, or my lady parts. If you're picking that up, that's pretty accurate. And my kids truly are insanely fun.
But the rest of it-- well I'm probably a lot cooler online than in person.
I get to edit who I am online. You only see what I let you see. Right now I'm in dog hair covered black exercise pants, a stained Cornell t-shirt that is 10 years old and my toenails are at half-mast-- they either need repainted or the paint needs to come off. I have been picking at a zit on my chin and trying to see if that laser hair removal I've been having done is actually working on my 'stache (seems to be...). My house smells like dog pee, too. That is the downside of having my awesome older dog who never gives up. Or makes it to the door.
Is that a whole lotta sexy and cool or what?
We spent the majority of the evening watching some stupid game warden show, laughing at the younger dog who was chasing a giant moth through the house then in the yard, and ended it with playing "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" on FB. We went on a family walk/bike ride/dog walk earlier in the evening where the dog who was completely trained when we adopted her, drug me around and I had to cede power to my husband, my daughter kept tipping over on her bike with training wheels every time we went over a driveway and my poor son felt like Marian of "The Munsters" for most of the circus that we were.
This was all after a dinner where I had to explain to my son that no, we are not broke, we are just trying to be more frugal. I refer to it as The Bean Family Greek Austerity Measures. We are trying to limit our spending- the random dining out, for one. He is now convinced that we have no money and he needs to get a job. At 9. I appreciate his willingness to chip in, but I am curious as to what he tells people. And the conversation started because he kept suggesting that we order a pizza rather than make our own. After saying no, we have stuff here to make one (plus it's fun), I finally snapped and said "IT'S CHEAPER!" So now he's concerned. I should also point out that since I work with money for a living, I probably say more things in front of him than I should. Job hazard. I wonder if doctors' kids are hypochondriacs?
I'm an okay mom. I yell. I'm sarcastic. I've left a screaming kid in the garage as I back down the driveway because when I said we're leaving, I meant NOW (don't worry, I go back and get them.) I'd be lying if I said I didn't rip through a tangle or two of my daughter's hair because I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT- she seriously cries more when I brush her hair than when she broke her leg.
I am, however, fairly funny- at least to me and isn't that what matters? Funny things do always seem to happen to me as if I'm living in a "Candid Camera" documentary film. I don't always verbalize my commentary in the moment, but the bubble over my head has some pretty great stuff in it. This is what I usually share online to my "friends." To put it in perspective, I was the kid in high school who everyone thought was nice, but said things under my breath that usually only my best friends heard or the teachers understood and laughed at. My husband now benefits from most of my humor. I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to make him laugh- and he tries very hard not to. It's our thing. Between watching game warden shows and cheering on the dog in her moth pursuit, that is.
I always get comments on FB or my blog about how much people love my commentaries. It makes me smile. And maybe that makes me a loser. I'm certainly not making crap up to be cool online- but I do edit. Oh, I really do tap dance, too. And the theme parties are real as well.
But if you come to Vegas and expect Super Cool Mama Bean, well, you're going to be disappointed. Like now. It's 10:50. I need to get to bed.
Wild, crazy life I lead.