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Awkward

I am determined to write more consistently on this blog. I’ve been telling myself this for awhile now, but as you may have noticed…it’s been slim pickins’. A couple of friends and I have been challenging ourselves to write more often about all sorts of different things. We take turns choosing a topic and then […]

I am determined to write more consistently on this blog. I’ve been telling myself this for awhile now, but as you may have noticed…it’s been slim pickins’. A couple of friends and I have been challenging ourselves to write more often about all sorts of different things. We take turns choosing a topic and then write our thoughts about it. We’ve been doing this for a couple of months and it’s been tough at times, but I’ve been trying to keep up. However, I’ve kept that writing separate from my writing here, for completely unknown reasons. So for the sake of trying to be consistent, I’m going to post some of the topics I’ve been writing about, hence the random thoughts. Consider yourself warned…

Awkward
There’s nothing that jogs your memory of the awkwardness of
junior high and school more than watching your kids go through it themselves. Everything’s
difficult. Everything’s weird. Asking for directions to the library? Awkward.
Boys having to sit next to girls? Awkward. Ice breaker at freshman orientation?
Completely awkward.
I felt the exact same way. My mom used to make me try on a
shirt hidden in the corner of the store so we wouldn’t have to make the long
trek to the dressing room. I was wearing a tank top, so it’s not like she asked
me to get naked. But still, awkward. I had a crush on our babysitter’s little
brother and once had to talk to him on the phone. So awkward.
I like to think I’ve come a long way since then. I have no
problem asking where the restroom is, or ordering at a restaurant; two things
that once terrified me in junior high. But I still hate awkward. It’s just
different scenarios now. My dear husband embraces awkward like a long lost
friend. Just today he had an unfortunate conversation with a customer service
representative who probably wished they’d never picked up that call. I was
feeling awkward and I wasn’t even hearing the other end of the conversation.
But this was not a problem for Andy. He just hung on to the awkwardness; just
let it linger.

Now that I think about it, it’s too bad my kids aren’t a
little more like their dad. They have a rough few years ahead of them.

By Jen

Jen Hirschman starting writing on this blog that her husband, Andy, started to post pictures of their remodel on their house. That turned into Jen taking the blog over, only to post silly family stories and photos, update family and friends on some happenings, and then abandon it from time to time. Enjoy!