I am...

If you're looking for something deep and meaningful...stop reading now.
My list is completely random. Hopefully it includes mostly things heretofore unknown. (good word, huh?)
Still with me? Well, don't let me stop you. Read away.

I am . . . intimidated by people.
I think . . . I want plastic surgery on a very specific part.
I want . . . my children to want to be kind.
I have . . . had to wear nursing and maternity undergarments when I’m behind in laundry. (This happens more than I want to admit.)
I miss . . . my Granddad, everyday. I also miss how he always called me "Pretty Girl". You just need that some days.
I fear . . . losing a child and my children being hurt, emotionally or physically.
I feel . . . safe with Steve.
I hear . . . K on the telephone, little man running away because he has a stinky, and B asking to go to a neighbor’s house.
I smell . . . smells! A huge huge huge thing since up until a week or so ago I couldn’t smell or taste…anything. Not one little nothing. It is very depressing to be down 2 senses. You get kind of attached to them, you know?
I crave . . . happy, relaxing days with my family.
I cry . . . when I am mad or frustrated.
I search . . . myself for why I worry about certain things.
I wonder . . . about the kind of people my children will grow up to be.
I regret . . . a lot.
I wish . . . I didn’t.
I love . . . forgiveness.
If I could only forgive myself I would be going good. (Disclaimer: it’s nothing horrible…just stuff that bugs me.)
I care . . . deeply about other people’s feelings.
I always . . . check on my kids before I go to bed.
I worry . . . about EVERYTHING. It’s exhausting being me.
I am not . . . a good laundry-er. I hate it. Lots. And lots.
I remember . . . almost any phone number if I dial it once. But I can’t seem to remember my to do list if I don’t keep it in front of me.
I believe . . . in best friends.
I know . . . I made the best decision when I was baptized.
I sing . . . but I probably shouldn’t.
I don't always . . . enjoy the taste of milk chocolate.
I argue . . . because I think my head will explode if I don’t make my point.
I write . . . like I talk; and because I find it easier to express myself with the written word than the verbal one.
I lose . . . K’s hair clips and it drives me CRAZY.
I listen . . . to Christmas music anytime of year and it always makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
I can . . . be a better mom.
I need . . . to not be so hard on myself, but still raise my standards high enough for the challenge to better me.
I forget . . . my in-laws’ birthdays. Oops.
I dream . . . about being a featured columnist for a newspaper or magazine.
I am happy . . . Heavenly Father loves me more than I think I deserve and graciously offered me the blessings of my husband, my daughters, my son, my parents, my friends, and my faith.