Guess how many shits I give.

I like to think that I’m woman enough to admit when I’ve been wrong. I’m also woman enough to notice when I’ve been wronged. I am also woman enough to admit in public that I no longer give any shits about anything and then, that woman who once gave the shits, she reaches over and pats the new me of non-shit giving on the back and it is good. And, what does this all even mean?

I don’t know.

Here’s what I do know. This season has been long and I’ve been not so much feeling the funny as I’ve been saying it. I’ve been weaving and crocheting and creating a summer blanket that is far more fun to look at than it is on the inside, where it’s soft and fragile…like a, well, like a blanket.

There has just been a lot going on. A full house. People full of individuality in tight spaces. Tip-toeing when tip-toeing may not be required and always questioning the right things to say and then possibly realizing there are no right things to say. It’s bloody tiring.

At this point, I have left well enough alone. The trips I once pretended I would plan? Neglected. The pool is inflated, yet no children swim in it. Instead? A Goosebumps marathon. All damn day. The shits I give? Gone.

Here’s the magic; I’ve accepted this as part of the tapestry of summer 2013. The summer we watched too much T.V. and mom didn’t argue when they asked for a cupcake at 9:30 a.m. and maybe we ate dinner at 7 and maybe at 8:30 or maybe, just maybe, we had cupcakes again. This is where I am right now.

In this grand display of, “MEH.”, everyone has been just fine. The children are happy to have free-form summer and I am happy to provide it. I am trying so little that it’s almost impressive. The sun sets, the sun rises and the number of shits I give still equal zero.

In a few weeks, I will have to inflate my shit-o-meter to almost bursting for back-to-school and the adult responsibilities that so graciously hang on the coat-tails of late Summer/early Fall, but, for now, my world is lazy. It smells like early morning baked goods. When coffee becomes cool, I don’t try to keep it hot. I throw an ice cube in it and go about my day of turning lemons into lemonade, but, only if it’s powdered lemonade because squeezing the juice just sounds exhausting. Let’s make the most of it with as little effort as possible, shall we?

And, when the Goosebumps marathon ends, we’ll start with Are You Afraid of the Dark. That should take us to at least shit-o-meter inflation eve.

It’s all about perspective.

It’s the end of the world as we know it…and I feel fine.





Comments

  1. It often feels like I’m in zero-shits-to-give mode … whether it’s summer, fall, winter or spring. Just different scenery to not give shits. Meh.

    (I wanted to use !! but realized that I might be putting on airs and seeming to be enthusiastically not giving of any shits … so I opted to forgo the !! I’m sure you understand. And if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll just not give a shit.)

    • I whole-heartedly (but not so whole-heartedly that I exert myself) agree with your non-use of exclamations because exclamations evoke a level of shit-giving that we can’t obtain right now. October is the month for exclamation. Or November…or never.

  2. I’m right beside you. In my pajamas. With my coffee cup. Please don’t look at my hair or smell my breath because I ran out of give-a-shits two months ago. Love you!

    • Oh, brushing teeth is something we’re supposed to do EVERY day? Wait, TWICE A DAY. Well…fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

  3. You make me give a shit about you not giving a shot – that’s a real gift. I hope you really are finding some value in the old-fashioned, laid back summer ideals during this less-than-ideal summer. xoxo, my lovely friend

  4. Perfect! This is just what I needed to read right now! I was just bemoaning the fact that I can’t start the lawn mower, and looking at the house with dismay (I’d much rather mow the lawn than clean the house). I got on FB to escape it all, but thanks to your inspiring post, I’m going to not give a shit!!! Yay! I’m gonna go eat some chocolate, and make a pot of coffee, and hand the computer over to my kid who wants to watch The Lone Ranger instead of playing outdoors, and I’m going to go stain some shingles. That’s all I really want to do anyway is paint. Screw the household chores! Ahhhh…. it does feel good!

    • I call this first meeting of the I Don’t Give a Shit Society to order. I didn’t make an agenda because I don’t give a shit.

  5. My “shit-o-meter inflation eve” has come and gone and the meter still hasn’t inched up…not one iota. But that’s the great thing about not giving a shit…because exactly that.

  6. Hey–there ain’t nothin’ wrong with putting the shit-o-meter on hold for the summer. That’s what these lazy months are for. And even though you may not be feeling like your funny self on the inside, the kids are going to remember this summer for what it was: freedom and fun and cupcakes. And that’s kick ass for a kid, right?!

    Hang in there, Mama! xo

  7. I really do give a shit about the word “meh.” It is quite underrated.

  8. Thank you for sharing your Shit-o-Meter. I, too, have lowered my shit-quotient and it’s been interesting to see my husband pick up some of the shit-slack. I think my kids have enjoyed summer a little more, too, with less of mom trying to herd them into things they “should” be doing and more of mom saying, “Sure, whatever. Just eat a fruit or vegetable sometime today.”

  9. You know, I totally support (and will likely join you) if you continue not giving shits once school starts. Just saying.

  10. Yessss. My kids are super unsocial weirdos who eat nothing but cereal and milk and spend hours and hours and hours playing Mine Crack and watching Netflix in the summer. And I can cajole and threaten and plead for them to go out and play with friends or build a fort in the woods and blah… who am I kidding. They are little versions of me. And me be lazy who-gives-a-shit awesome.

  11. I missed this one. I think that dropping the shit-o-meter once in awhile is fantastic and totally healthy. I’m sure that the kids can feel the instant that the pressure valve is released and the shit-o-meter deflates. Suddenly nightgowns become daywear and food is eaten when hungry not when prescribed. Instead of corralling constantly, mom is just there, coexisting. The best time to ditch caring about everything? The dog days of summer. Knowing some of lemons that were thrown your way in abundance, I’m happy to see that you didn’t even bother squeezing them into lemonade. Duck the lemons, buy the lemonade.

  12. I feel like you are giving me permission to not give any shits – I needed that this week – so, thanks. Your post reminded me that when life is overwhelming that “meh” is perfectly acceptable and can feel refreshing. This sometimes-uptight mama now feels good about letting her munchkin have Cookie Crisp for dinner, no fruits or vegetables, and still have dessert – all while watching a marathon of PBS Kids on the iPad. I get a break, she thinks it’s an epic evening – win, win.

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