After reading my good friend
Elyse's post, (If you dont follow her blog, I totally recommend it! She may very well be famous one day for her amazing writing/entertaining skills.) I was trying to think of any big embaressing moments in my life, and honestly I really can't think of a big one, or I just repressed the memory. Rather, I just have a bunch of small little uncomfortable or regretful moments. I'm the type who can be sitting in a crowd of millions, and be beyond embarressed, like painfully, red in the face embaressed, for that tone-deaf, awkward, not funny, person on stage. So, even the littlest things embaress me. Things most people probably don't even get slightly embaressed about, I get overly mortified.
For instance, yesterday my husband came across my middle school year book. Ahh!, never did I want him to see that! We went to the same school, so it wasn't my picture I was so humiliated about, rather ...
...the stupid little outlining of harts around a million different boys' pictures. I wasn't "in love" with any of them, so I don't know why I did it, I was an ar-tard?! I tried saying, "I just put that around all of my friends." Which he quickly pointed out that the harts were only around certain boys, while my girl friends and other boys only got stars. Ugh. Couldn't really try to dig myself out of that one. So...change the subject. Oh, did I mention, my husband only got stars. There is a good reason behind that though, which I'll save for another day.
Oh yes, another fine moment. One day in frist grade, we had an essembly, and our teacher told us if we had to go to the bathroom during the essembly, she wouldn't let us go. Well of course, right in the middle of it, I had to pee, Bad! Too scared to ask my teacher, I wet my pants. So, I blamed it on a "puddle" on the floor.
Aren't there so many dumb little things you did growing up, that you wish you hadn't. Like; my mom bought me a beautiful, really nice Senior Homecoming dress, for the dance. And for pictures, we posed as picking our noses and smelling our arm pits. "Really?! Mom just spent alot on a dress, and you choose to pose like a dweeb!"
Hmm, what else?...Oh, not knowing that getting pregnant had nothing to do with your belly button till my health class, my sophmore year, in high school. I may have been a little sheltered. It's not that my parents wouldn't answer my questions if I had any, I just never asked. Didn't really think about it I suppose.
I still get embaressed infront of Braidon, after being married for a couple years, so of course this happened before we were even engaged. I was sitting on his lap and tooted! Ok, "toot" is really too polite of a term to use for what it really was. (No, I didn't "shart," just a loud stinky one is what I mean.) We all fart, so why is it so awefully embaressing? (Oh, and I've never "sharted" in my life, which my husbands family think is hilariously strange.?)
This one happened when I was like three, and I still remember it to this day. We were on our way into Cedar and both Kristen and I despretly needed to use the bathroom, so our dad pulled off to the rest stop. He took us up to the door of the womens, where we insisted that was the mens room. My dad tried to convince us, that it was for sure the ladies, but we marched into the mens restroom anyways. Sure enough there were some lovely men truckers in there.
I also went through a stage of refusing to smile in pictures. Apparently I thought the "old lady forgot to put her dentures in look" was the way to go.
And why did I ever part my hair in the middle? I looked like an indian Boy!
Or, the first and only product I used when starting to wear make up, was this ugly dark, maroon-brown lipstick. Needless to say, I looked NOT so good. (7th grade)
Even more embaressing than the lip stick rediculousness, I refused to wear a bra. I was beyond embaressed to even go in the section of underwear. Finally, the summer after my 6th grade year, my mom baught us some bra's and made us wear them. So basically I went two years of school in where I really did need one, and refused to wear one. I really don't want to think about what I looked like.
Maybe one of my not so proudest memoires was when I randomly decided to go try out for the school play, for kicks and giggles, and then getting one of the biggest roles (Rizzo in Grease). Mind you, I've had zero experience singing solo's in public, playing cello; yes, singing; not so much. (I know, I know, I have no idea how to punctuate.) I'll just say, it wasn't the best performance I've done.
And for some reason, I always take home the trophy of "Ugliest in The Picture." I don't have bad self esteem, but I am not photogenic at all! And, yes I do realize the point was to make funny faces, but mine is well, just ugly!
I could go on and on about things I did that were regretfully embaressing, but sadly I'm sure I'll continue to have these moments/stages through the entirety of my life. On a happy note though, I feel like I've grown out of my "ugly-duckling" stage, into a descent woman. I'm in better shape than I was before my pregnancy, due to the "kick-my-trash," "whipe me all over the floor," work out routine I'm doing. My awesome cousin is whippin my butt back into gear. Bikini body here I come! Ok, I don't think I'll ever wear a bikini again, I've become a "Molly Mormon" if you will. I just think this world is getting more and more harder to stay true to righteousness in, so why make it harder, or make my daughter think immodesty is ok. Maybe I'm crazy, but I don't think I'll ever look back when I'm old and wish I had worn a bikini. Rather, I would probably wish I hadn't and had set a good example for my little girl.
Wishing you all a good weekend! Loves!