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Writer's pictureManda Lynn

What is an Amanda-ism? Really.

What is an Amanda-ism? Really.

How do I even begin to talk about the moments that make me so beyond clumsy and seemingly helpless? They are called Amanda-isms according to my blog. However, there was a time when they were simply Amanda/Mary moments. Yup, that’s right, I started off this journey of being a total clutz with my BFF by my side. We didn’t actually coin the word until recent years. We were finally able to reflect and reminisce about the many moments that make us…well, us.

It’s funny because these moments used to be so embarrassing to me. I am even going to call my best friend out and say that both of us used to turn the most vibrant shades of crimson when these moments brought us into the spotlight. We would be down-right mortified. But now, well now, we have finally learned to laugh, still turn bright red, but then quickly move on and blame it on our children (Kind of kidding about that part. Kind of.) Every Mom’s rightful badge once they have taken on little minions. Or at least, I believe so.

There are just so many. How do I even begin to sort them out? I so wish I could share some of Mary’s, but I will spare her since this is my story to tell and it wouldn’t be fair of me to share her stories pinky sworn into secrecy. Best friends honor.

Let’s start with just today. I can work backward or in no particular order and just go with whatever pops out of my memory. Of course, those moments stored away were much more present in the teenage years, because now, I just don’t give a shit. Embarrassed? Huh. Oh, sure, I guess I get embarrassed from time to time (more like I embarrass my poor husband).

So, yes. Today I woke up with an extra, non-arthritic spring in my step. It was magnificent. I haven’t had this feeling for a while and I had accustomed it to the fact that Shannon (the hubby) had bought me a very supportive pair of old women’s slippers. They even had the same pattern that my Grandma had on a robe that Shannon and I had bought her the year before she had passed. He had planned it that way, because honestly when he had told me I had thought it was so thoughtful. Although now, I am wondering if he is just trying to warm himself up to the idea of his wife turning into Grandma Betty. But I digress.

It was such a nice feeling to be walking around without the ached of walking an amusement park the day prior. I was practically skipping along. Well let’s just say, I had my coffee, the kids were fed and somewhat content and not killing each other. So it was a great start thus far.

That was the first part of my morning. It was nice. So here comes my moment. I am walking up my stairs to take the baby to bed for her morning nap and I have gotten very much used to the dogs trying to beat me to the top and practically tripping me from the side. No biggie. Then, Bam! The dog actually managed to catch my slipper from behind with her arthritic paw (I mention that part because I think it was all in her plan). In order to keep Aubrey and me from falling instead of having a minor trip, I push my toe super hard into the stairs and jam my big toe. Pain shoots from the tip of my toe to the middle of my foot. Just wonderful. I guess I had maybe two hours of no aches or pains in my feet. So that was nice.

And there you have it. Amanda-ism. These things happen. Could they have been prevented? Probably. Does this happen to other people? Sometimes. Does this stuff happen to me? Fairly often.

I try, I really do. I just feel like things get in the way. I’m always running around with one foot out the door and a baby on the hip and time is not usually on my side. It keeps it entertaining.

Let’s hear your (insert your name here)-isms!

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