Life's Afflictions

I have not a single problem admitting my afflictions.  I am a chocoholic and addicted to coffee.  I LOVE coffee. I could bathe in it!  I don't NEED coffee to wake up, drinking coffee is an extra-sensory experience for me.  It's equivalent to climbing into a hot tub after a long, grueling trip when your muscles are tight and tired and your brain has turned to mush.  Yes, it's like that.

Another of my addictions is t-shirts...I discovered this a few weeks ago as I was purging my closet of clothes that I can no longer wear or have not worn in over a year.  Half of my closet is t-shirts...I do not plan on getting rid of them...I love them...they are a part of me...oh, and 5 of them are tie-dye...yes, I plan on getting more t-shirts and you can probably bet your next paycheck on the fact that the majority will be tie-dye...the more colorful, the better.

One affliction that I'm not so proud of, but yet will readily admit to is procrastination. Sometimes I procrastinate simply because life is so busy that I can't even muster the energy to think about doing something other than sitting in the recliner and mindlessly cruising through Pinterest.  Sometimes, the thought of dealing with something is so overwhelming that my brain shuts down...THIS reason apparently, is what prompted a conversation with my 9-year-old and trying to talk her out of thinking she needs to, prematurely, step into the world of womanhood.

Hannah has been saying, for a few months now, that she needs a bra...she's NINE!  No way, no how, just, simply NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Last summer, I had a hysterectomy and very gently tried to explain to her what was going to happen and why.  Sorry, but after the divorce and seeing her dad go through a gamete of issues, I am trying to protect her innocent childhood for as long as I can.  I'm not ready to explain all those horrific things she's going to have to deal with.  Yes, I know time flies and the clock is ticking...quite loudly in my left ear, if you must know.  Anyway, my first attempt at explaining my surgery was somewhat of a failure because she expressed concern that it was her fault. What???????  "Yes, Mommy.  If you hadn't had me, you wouldn't have to do this surgery." as the tears started to flow.  So, a different approach and all was well.

Yesterday, as she was getting ready to go to a birthday party, she just blurted it out, again.  

Hannah:  Mommy!  You neeeeed to get me a bra!

Me: No, Hannah, I do not.

Hannah: Yes, Mommy, you do.

Me:  Hannah, do you remember those tank tops I've bought for you with the built-in "bra" and how you wouldn't wear them because the felt weird?

Hannah: Yes, but...

Me: Well, a bra is going to feel 100 times more weird, so why is a bra different from those tank tops?

Hannah:  Because, Mommy, I didn't have fat boobies back then.

Me:  <> Oh, LORD, PLEEEEAAASE help me!!!!!!!!!!!! (as I side-step out her bedroom door).  Fine! Next time we go shopping, you're gonna try them on and you'll see...

I meant it, LORD, please help me!  This is NOT the part I'm ready for!!!