Happy Festivus! An Airing of Grievances.

My friend Lindsay (who, side note, is one of my favorite bloggers. Like, I'd continue to read her blog even if I was no longer a blogger because it's just the best) does a yearly Airing of Grievances post inspired by Festivus. When she announced it early this time, I knew I had to join her this year.
So, without further ado...things that have disappointed me this year:  Paying for Amazon Prime only for two-day shipping to turn into five-day shipping that may or may not ever actually get there. 
People who try to corner me into an argument about things that cannot be argued with logic. 
The fact that I so often fall for it and get sucked into these arguments. 
Clothes that no matter how careful I am to wash in cold water and not dry, will shrink the second they're washed. 
How in some brands I'm an XS and in some brands I have to get an XL to even maybe be able to squeeze into it. 
The fact that, of all things, SHOES cannot just be universal sizes. It's supposed to be INCHES. HOW DOES IT VARY SO MUCH BRAND TO BRAND????? People who can't let you say something without pointing out how they are more ___ than you. If you are cold, they are COLDER. If you say you're tired, they're like "LOL YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TIRED IS UNTIL YOU HAVED LIVED THESE EXACT SET OF CIRCUMSTANCES I AM LIVING."  The fact that vegetables just do not taste as good as unhealthy crap. They just don't. 
People who slide into my DMs trying to sell me something by being rude. "I couldn't help but notice you could use my help losing those last few pounds." BYE, SUSAN. 
People who say, "must be nice!" 
The fact that my phone autocorrects "Mondays" to "Monday's" even though I have literally never typed out a sentence about something belonging to Monday.
People / bloggers / brands who label clothing as "Mom friendly."
Meetings that could have easily been emails.  
Unsolicited parenting advice. 
When someone texts me and says "Call me." No, you call me. And if I don't answer JUST TEXT ME, OKAY?
Whew, I feel better. Your turn! What grievances are you airing today?

Sometimes You're The Dog, Sometimes You're The Tree.

"Sometimes you're the dog, sometimes the tree." That's Cam Eubanks' instagram bio and I laugh every time I see it, and every time I read it, it reminds me of parenthood. 
Let me paint you a picture of my Saturday. 
On my way to meet my friend Sam at the mall, Jack passed our hard. This was perfect, because he slept in his stroller all through our shopping. When we were done and he was still sleeping, I decided to get a little greedy and extend the trip to TJ Maxx. 
I was fighting the leftovers of a migraine, so I swung through the drive-thru on my way and ordered an extra-large diet coke. I was at TJ Maxx before I realized my giant, oversized cup did not come with a straw, so after a few messy tries of sipping out of the side of the monster cup, I left in in the car. Now, I'm gonna stop past me right here and tell her that she should have accepted this bad omen and driven her still-sleeping kid straight home where she has plenty of straws.
Instead, I went into TJ Maxx, where Jack woke up almost instantly. After a few minutes of a fussy toddler, I think he might be telling me he has to go to the bathroom. The joys of potty training, you know?
I'm trying to fit the stroller through the bathroom door when he runs ahead and locks himself in a stall. Okay, not ideal, but at least he's taking initiative! Positivity! I try to unlock the door from the outside, no luck. I knock on the door and ask him to unlock it and am met with an emphatic, "nope!" Luckily, no one else was in there, so I decided to wait a minute and let him do his thing. 
After a minute or two, I knocked on the door again. This time I was met with silence, which everyone knows is way worse than a "nope!" Okay, time to escalate this. 
As someone who frequently locks myself out of dressing rooms, I'm no stranger to this move. I mean, it's not usually on a sticky public bathroom floor, but I just won't think about that. I lay on the floor and slide under the door...except I don't. Instead, I get stuck. I don't fit under this door. From this angle, though, I can see Jack.
This child is butt naked. Just standing there, chillin' with the toilet, sans clothes.
Now, there are not many times I wonder what my life would look without a kid. But I'd be lying to you if I said that the thought didn't cross my mind, while laying on a dirty bathroom floor, stuck under a stall, staring at a naked toddler: I wonder what all the non-moms are doing this fine Saturday?
Of course, my thought was interrupted by someone coming in to use the bathroom. I tried to gracefully remove myself from my stuck position, but I'm sure it looked more like a wild animal scurrying away from something. I tried to explain what was going on, but she didn't care, and just waved me off while going into the stall next to Jack. 
I'm standing outside Jack's stall, trying to figure out my next move, when she screams.
"HE'S NAKED." 
Turns out, while I was too big to climb under the stall, Jack was not. But instead of climbing out to me, he climbed into a strangers stall. 
Me: I'm so sorry! Her: He's naked! Me: He's potty training! Her: He's naked! Me: He's naked. 
The screaming sent Jack right back into his stall, and I had to shamefully avoid eye contact while the woman came out glaring at me. A few minutes later, I thought to use my keys to try to pop the lock open, and it worked like a charm. 
I have never fled a TJ Maxx so fast in my life. But, in my hustle to get the heck outta there, I pulled onto the highway before I realized Jack was holding my keys. "Hey, Mama!"
He threw them to me and they landed in the giant, uncovered cup of diet coke, which then went all over my car, my clothes, my face, and in my eyes. Happy Saturday to me.
What can I say? Sometimes you're the dog, sometimes you're the tree. 

A Day in The Life (With a Toddler) (Send Help).

Back when I asked for topics anyone would like to see me write about, someone suggested I write a "day in the life" post. Now, while I will eventually write one of those, the day I got that suggestion just so happened to be the most INSANE day with Jack, so I couldn't miss the chance to write a funny one first. 
Now, while I will admit that all of these things did not happen on the same day, I DO want to point out they are all things that have absolutely happened recently. Also, I love being a mom. This is supposed to be funny. If you're going to be mean, leave me alone. Bye. 
4:00 AM || Wake up to the fridge alarm going off. I'm the only adult home, so this is slightly alarming (haha, get it?) I go into the kitchen to see Jack sitting amongst a graveyard of Reece's cup wrappers. He ate EIGHTEEN Reese's cups. E I G H T E E N. Clean things up, get him back to sleep, go back to bed. 
6:00 AM || Wake up to gagging noises. Realize the childproof handle on the pantry must not really be childproof, because Jack is currently emptying out what was a brand new jar of peanut butter. Wake all the way up just in time for him to throw that peanut butter up all over the bed and also on me. Jump out of the peanut butter filled bed, give him a bath, clean the carpet, and take a shower before a single cup of coffee is had. 
9:20 AM || Chase him around the house while he laughs hysterically, because for the third time today, he's gotten butt-naked minutes after I got him all the way dressed. Give up. We are a nudist home now. This is life.
10:00 AM || Get Jack settled in the den with a movie so I can conference into weekly staff meeting. Try my best to selectively hit "mute" so maybe the whole staff doesn't hear Jack banging on the locked door and sobbing like I just left him out in the desert to fend for himself.
10:03 AM || The screaming stops. Unmute when I'm asked a question, just in time for the wailing to pick back up. Say, "Oh no thank you, I'm fine!" When asked if I need to step away for a minute.    10:06 AM || Give up on the selective muting. All I'm doing is muting my answers. Stare deadpanned into the camera, daring anyone to say anything about the clearly distraught child on the other side of that door. 
11:15 AM || The sun is out. Take Jack outside to let him run some energy out / also work on my tan. Close eyes on hammock just in time to be startled by a male voice saying, "Um, is this yours?" Realize it's your neighbor on the other side of the fence, holding up a toy. Apologize. He holds up another toy. Apologize again as he proceeds to toss a pile of Jack's toys back into your yard. So Jack throws his toys over the fence now, that's fun.

1:45 PM || Realize Jack can now get on the counters. Find him standing on the stove, microwaving his milk. 
1:47 PM || While cleaning up from his countertop expedition, realize something smells bad. Like, poop bad. Check his diaper. It's clean. Chalk it up to bad gas and keep cleaning. 
1:49 PM || No, really. What is that smell? 
1:58 PM || Find the smell. GOD HELP US ALL, THIS CHILD POOPED IN THE SINK.
1:59 PM || Get allllll the cleaners out, because this sink has to be SANITIZED OKAY. 
2:13 PM || Finish cleaning just in time to catch Jack pouring window cleaner into the dog's bowl. Attempted murder? Perhaps. This is why I buy nontoxic cleaners. 
4:12 PM || Hear a man's voice. Even though my phone is password protected, somehow Jack has facetimed my coworker. 
6:34 PM || While I'm making Jack dinner, Jack is also making himself dinner. In the dog's bowl. He's poured a gallon of milk into Gatsby's food bowl and is trying to feed it to him with a spoon, like cereal. Gatsby is unappreciative, probably due to the earlier attempt on his life.
9:32 PM || He falls asleep, I put him to bed. I'd planned on tackling my to-do list once he fell asleep, but it's not happening. I last about ten minutes before I also collapse into bed. 
10:14 PM || Wake up to a hand on my face. For the first time, Jack's figured out that he can come get in bed with me at night.  Think, oh my gosh, I am literally with him 24/7 now. There is nothing more exhausting than this in the whole freaking world.  
10:22 PM || He rolls over, pats my head, and says, "mama." Think oh my gosh, there is nothing better than this in the whole freaking world. 
Parenthood is weird, y'all. 

What I Really Want For Mother's Day. Alternatively Titled: I Have a Two-Year-Old.

Last year, I wrote this post about what I wanted for Mother's Day. Included, but not limited to: All of the sleep, a Frankenstein body situation (with my pre-baby body, my post-baby hips, and my newborn-days boobs), length-changing hair, and a new magical substance that both kept me awake but chilled me the heck out. Spoiler alert, I never got these things and they're all still on my list.
I thought it'd be fun to revisit this a year later, now that Jack is a year older, and see what I have to add to this list. 

A translator. I was just talking to Michelle this week saying I had some questions for Jesus, starting with WHY do toddlers have all the feelings and emotions before they can talk and tell you what they need? A translator would be able to tell me that even though he's screaming at me and pointing at his milk in the kitchen, his "words" are telling me that he wants me to go get his toy that is too far under his bed for him to reach. Silly me. 
All of the energy. All. Of. It. This is different than all of the coffee, because the amount of energy needed to even sort of keep up with a two-year-old is something that not even my beloved coffee can touch. 
Magical carpets that deep clean themselves every night when I go to sleep. It feels like I am scrubbing my carpet every day for some reason or another, and it definitely feels like that scrubbing only touches the surface. I'm legitimately scared about what might be under there at this point. 
A clone of myself. Second Chelsea, if you will. When we go to the pool, she can watch Jack while I read a book. When Jack is so clingy that even throwing a load of towels in the washer is a mission, she can take care of the laundry while I hold him. When he takes a nap, I can take a bath while she cooks dinner. 
An unlimited skincare budget. Things that are bad for your skin include: Smoking, drinking, junk food, and, worst of all, living with a two-year-old. 
A chef. Also probably going to need them to be a mythical creature, because I need them to cook a dinner every night that somehow is toddler-friendly but also packed with nutrients for Jack but also healthy for me but also filling enough that I won't be grazing in my pantry at 11:00 that night. So, definitely a mythical creature. A magic chef. 
Happy Mother's Day. Don't forget to remind the mom's in your life that they're superheroes. And if you know any magic chef's, send them my way. 

Some Funny Things as of Late.

I used to be really good at documenting the funny, sometimes bizarre things that tend to happen to me. My friends always make fun of the awkward situations (and people) I seem to attract. I thought it'd be fun to round some of those up. 

One:
I was meeting Sam for lunch a few weeks ago (when it was still a little chilly) and was waiting for her on the porch of a restaurant. I'd been there for a few minutes when an older man, maybe in his 60's, approached me to tell me he thought I should probably go inside. 
Me: I'm sorry? 
Him: You should go inside. I can tell you're cold. 
Me: I'm fine! 
Him: No, really. You're obviously cold. 
Me: ...
Him: I can tell your cold. Your nips are showing. They're cold, and they're showing. 
NOW. The above is obviously inappropriate no matter what, but I would like to state, for the record, that not only was I wearing a bra this day, I was wearing a hoodie. So no matter how cold I was, this man saw nothing. 
I could either go inside like he suggested (which, NOPE), or leave (which, nope) so I just sat there and looked at him and didn't say anything. He got in his car and left, and that was that. 
What is wrong with people? 
Side note: I texted my mom about this, and she texted back in all caps, MY NIPS, MY BUSINESS, which will now be my new life motto, thank you for understanding. 

Two:
I met a new friend at the neighborhood pool a few weeks ago, who was wearing big sunglasses. She took them off, introduced herself and her little boy to me and Jack, and we hit it off. I mentioned I'd love to get together soon and we went on our ways. 
Last week, I was at the pool, when she showed up in her big sunglasses. I wave and we strike up a conversation. I went to leave and said, "I'd love to have a coffee date with you and your sweet little boy (I couldn't remember his name) soon!" She sat straight up and said, "How did you know?" 
Me: What? 
Her: How did you know it was a boy? 
Me:...What? 
Her: Takes sunglasses off, is definitely not the same person I met a few weeks ago, does not even live in the neighborhood, and has just found out she's having a baby boy. 

Tell me something awkward that's happened to you lately! 

The Twelve Days of Christmas: I Have a Toddler Edition.

On the first day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...A picture with Santa where there was so much screaming, even Santa isn't smiling. (I'll frame it anyway).   On the second day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Two epic meltdowns before 10:00AM, because Christmas errands are not for the faint of heart, and they are also not for toddlers. 
On the third day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Three Christmas cookies used as bribes, that will most definitely result in a skipped nap. 
On the fourth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Four showings of Curious George Christmas (in a row) (on the same day) (send wine). 
On the fifth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Five strangers staring in the grocery store as he stood up in the cart and declared his true feelings about grocery shopping the week of Christmas. 
On the sixth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Six hours I spent googling "toddler Christmas gifts" knowing full well he'll be happiest with the wrapping paper. 
On the seventh day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Seven awkward FaceTime dates with out of town family who wants to wish the toddler a merry Christmas, but the toddler only wants to make a brief appearance, leaving you to handle the rest of the conversation.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Eight extra miles of driving because he finally passed out and there is no earthly way I'm going home and waking him up. 
On the ninth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Nine pizzas ordered (so far) this month because this. mama. ain't. cooking. 
On the tenth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Ten different attempts at staged candid Christmas pictures before giving up and promising I'll get professional pictures taken this year (I won't). 
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...Eleven "last minute" Target runs for things I convince myself he needs for Christmas. 
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me...twelve broken ornaments from tackling the Christmas tree. 

Twelve broken ornaments,  Eleven Target runs,  Ten failed photoshoots,  Nine pizzas delivered,  Eight miles of driving,  Seven awkward FaceTimes,  Six hours googling,  Five strangers staring,  Four Curious George shows,  Three Christmas cookies, Two epic meltdowns,  And a picture of Santa that borders on creepy (but I'm framing it anyway)

Finding Childcare: A Step-by-Step Horror Story.

Step 1: Wait entirely too long to admit that yes, you probably do need some childcare help. It's probably not the best thing for your mental health to never not be taking care of a toddler, and your job is probably going to fire you if your kid doesn't stop banging on the office door during staff meetings. Start looking for part-time daycares.
Step 2: Realize that no one gives any info out over the phone. If you want to know the secrets (like, how much does this cost?) you're gonna have to tour these places. Set up some tours. 
Step 3: Dress in your most "Professional mom with v cool toddler you'd be lucky to have" outfit. Text picture to no less than three people to get approval. 
Step 4: Show up for daycare tour. Realize very quickly that this is maybe not the best place when you see there are garbage bags lining the hall, leaking onto the floor. When the director turns and screams down the hall for an employee to clean it up, and the employee screams back that she will not be touching that sh*t, you know this is not the place for you. 
Step 5: Since you are polite, decide to finish the tour. This is a mistake. When you open the classroom door, a cockroach falls off of the door and onto your face. You scream, brush it onto the floor, and look to the daycare director for some sort of reassurance. Instead, she watches as it crawls over to a sleeping toddler, right onto his blanket, and says, "Oh. That's gross." When she asks if you're interested in full time or part time, you pause, trying to think of a nice way to say, "I just watched you let a roach crawl onto a toddler, so no thank you." But you take too long, and she snaps her fingers in your face and says, "I'm not a f*cking mind reader. Speak up." So you feel like the polite explanation is no longer needed. BYE. 
Step 6: Make more tour appointments. Find the perfect daycare. Cry in your car when you find out they don't offer part-time. 
Step 7: Decide to try for a nanny. You join care.com and are pleased by how many applications immediately come in. 
Step 8: Skip from pleased to overwhelmed. 
Step 9: Your first interview! Oh, it's bad. So bad. 
You: I see you're CPR certified! That's great! 
Her: Oh, I'm actually not. I just say that to get interviews. 
Step 10: Repeat a few times. A few notables: The girl who "really can't tell you" what hours she would be able to work, the girl who would definitely not be okay watching your kid if you were in the house, and the girl who just refuses to leave after the interview is over. 
Step 11: Fall in LOVE with a nanny. Who, of course, charges almost double what you want to pay. Try to negotiate. Fail. Tell yourself it's worth it and you're going to hire her. Decide to look her up on social media on a whim. 
Step 12: Panic.   Step 13: Remind yourself not to judge. 
Step 14: OKAY BUT THAT'S COCAINE IN THE BACKGROUND SO
Step 15: The morning after a horrible natural disaster, when the entire city is without power, receive text from said-nanny. Hope you survived the hurricane! Still wanna hire me or nah? 
OR, you could skip steps 1-15 and go straight for Step 16: Pour yourself a glass of wine and cry about it. 
PS: Since writing this, I have found the BEST nanny. She is wonderful and Jack loves her. So don't stay stuck on step 16 for toooooo long. 

What I Really Want For Mother's Day. Alternatively Titled: I Have a Toddler.

In magazines, blog posts, and advertisements on Facebook, I keep seeing Mother's Day gift guides pop up. They're pretty, usually pink, and full of things like expensive candles and body scrub. And obviously the people writing these are doing a good job, because I'm a mom, and I nod along and think, yes, yes I do want that. 
But, since I am a mom, and Mother's Day gift guides are for people buying gifts for moms, I thought I'd give you a little inside peek on what I really want for Mother's Day. 
Sleep. All of the sleep. Seriously, all of it. I cannot stress this enough. I don't mean I want a nap or to sleep in on Sunday, I want all. of. the. sleep. So if you could just pack up a few of your extra hours and wrap them up with a bow, that's what I want. 
Coffee. All of it. There could be a river of coffee flowing straight through my house and it still would not be enough lately. I need it all. Like this, but with coffee: 

My pre-baby body. Actually, if we're getting technical, here's what I really want: My pre-baby body, my post-baby hips, and my newborn days boobs, because hot DANG those were nice. So basically I want like a Frankenstein kind of situation. Is that too much to ask for? 
A magical new caffeine source. Something stronger than coffee, but not quite illegal drug status, ya feel? I would like it to leave me wide awake but also feeling as if I'd taken a mild sedative. I'd like zero shakes, 100% awareness, and also the ability to fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. So like a coffee-wine hybrid, but way better. Again with the Frankenstein gifts, I guess.
A glam squad. If by some chance, I am unable to be gifted all of the sleep and all of the coffee, I will settle for this. A group of people to follow me around, who's sole purpose in life is to make it look like I've had all the sleep and coffee in the whole wide world. 
Length-changing hair. I want the mom chop because it's easy and because you don't know what pain is until your kid rips out a handful of your hair while you're half-asleep. But also I want long hair because top knots are the easiest. But also I want short hair because I don't want to wear my hair in a top knot every day and look like a slob. Can someone please fix this cycle? It's Mother's Day and I AM A MOTHER. 
Okay, okay, this is getting a bit excessive and I don't want to come across as greedy. I am so blessed to be a mom, and truly, I don't need all of this. 
I'll just settle for that Frankenstein bod. 

Things That Deserve a Valentine.

I was going to send out adorable Valentine's Day cards this year. Cheesy, pink valentines. But then the last four weeks have been crazy and yesterday is the first day I thought about it and for some reason, the mail system cannot catch up with Amazon Prime and get things places in two days, so, not happening this year. 
But just because I'm not sending out real valentines doesn't mean I can't shoot a virtual v-day card to some things in our lives that are well deserving of one. So, in vein of Jimmy Fallon and his thank you notes, here are some things that most certainly deserve my valentines. 
This post contains affiliate links. Disclosure here.
The Target Dollar Spot. Roses are red, violets are blue, every single month you try to make me spend all my rent money on you. 

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Coffee. I literally cannot be a functioning human being without you, so, happy Valentine's Day. 

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Leggings. Thank you for making it socially acceptable to basically stay in pajamas 24/7. You're the real Valentine here. 

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Amazon Prime. Providing instant gratification in the form of two-day delivery...all the heart eyes for you. If you don't have this yet, you can get a 30-Day Free Trial here and never have to wait on a package again!

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Hats. Thanks for helping me make it through the hard times (like bad hair days, or when I haven't showered yet but still need to look cute). Couldn't do it without you. 
Youtube. You offer approximately 1.2 billion workout videos that should definitely cost money but are somehow available for free. You make it very clear that there is no excuse to not get a workout in, and for that, I both love and hate you. But still, happy Valentine's Day. 

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Netflix. LOVE YOU FOREVER. 
Audible. You've made my many commutes and road trips bearable and even enjoyable over the last three years. Thanks for stepping up to the plate, since actual reading while driving is frowned upon. (PS, if you don't have the magic that is Audible (WHY), you can get 30 free days here. It comes with 2 free books, so, why not?).   

Chick-Fil-A. I love you because you will forever let me eat (the world's best) chicken nuggets without feeling juvenile. And also because your 8 count is always more like an 11 count. Be my valentine. 
What deserves a valentine in your life? 

How to Have a Completely Stress-Free Thanksgiving in 11 Easy Steps.

1. First things first: Please absolutely everyone. This is essential. If someone is upset with you for not going along with their plans/being late/saying the wrong thing, Thanksgiving will be ruined. RUINED.
2. Buy a new dress. Of course it will be expensive, even though you already have plenty of perfectly good dresses. Of course it will be form fitting, and you'll have eaten so much before Thanksgiving dinner even starts that you'll probably change into yoga pants. But if you don't buy a new dress, do you even actually care about Thanksgiving??
3. Start your marathon training weeks in advance. Marathon eating, that is. You've got to prepare your stomach so you can actually eat everything. This way, you can avoid these questions and comments: Oh, you didn't like it. || So I guess that's not your favorite anymore? I made it just for you. || Are you feeling well? You didn't eat enough. || You ate before you came, didn't you?
4. Clone yourself. Because that's the only way you're making it to everyone's Thanksgiving plans. 
5. Win the lottery. Let's be honest, that's the only way you're affording all the traveling, cooking, wine, grocery runs, and early Christmas gifts you need to be prepared for. 
6. Lose 20 pounds. So maybe "You've gained weight!" Won't be the first thing out of your grandma's mouth this year. 
7. Get married and have a baby. So when that one family member starts in on how they always thought you'd be married by now, you can say, HA! IN YOUR FACE. 
8. On the other hand, leave your current husband and children. That way when someone is talking to you about their exotic adventures this year, and how it's such a bummer you're tied down and can't have any fun, you can say, "Psh, what are you talking about?"
9. Spend approximately half of the time you're with family planning Christmas. Who cares that it's Thanksgiving? If you don't spend hours drawing up who's buying what gifts, and who's cooking what food, and what events are on what days, Christmas won't even happen.  
10. Make a list of topics to avoid so you don't offend someone/start a fight. Possible topics to avoid: Religion, politics, racism of any kind, anyone's job, breakups, women in general, men in general...you know what? Just stick to talking about the food. 
11. Duck out of Thanksgiving dinner 3 hours early. Black Friday deals on Christmas presents obviously trump spending time with family. You're probably buying gifts for them, anyway. It would be selfish to stay around and finish your dinner. 
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Wishing you all lots of good food, some thankfulness, and minimal family drama this month. 
What would you add to this list?

Nine Moments Every Book-Lover Has Experienced.

I'm a book-lover, and that's putting it mildly. I think "almost dangerously book-obsessed" might be a better term, but let's stick with book-lover, because that just sounds better. 
As any true book-lover knows, reading is an emotional rollercoaster full of its ups and downs. Please laugh and cry along with me as we take a look at some of the most common moments we've all experienced in our reading journeys...
When your favorite character gets killed off. 

When the couple you've been rooting for since the first chapter kisses. 

When you find out the character you were hoping was fake dead is actually real dead, and there is no justice in the world. 

When you hate yourself for guessing the twist way too early.  

When you don't guess the twist at all and are genuinely surprised. 

When you finally get your hands on a book that everyone has been raving about...and you hate it.

When you read a book that turns you into a fanatic. 

When you finish reading one of the best books of your life and have the biggest reading hangover that won't let you make it past the third or fourth page of a new book, because nothing will ever be as good. 

When you catch yourself wondering how your favorite characters are doing or where they're at in their lives...and you have to remind yourself that they're not actually real. 

Lies Everyone Tells Themselves.

I can stop drinking coffee cold turkey. It's the best way.

If I spend $300 at Whole Foods, I will easily lose weight. 

Staying up for two more episodes is fine. I won't be tired in the morning. 

These brand new shoes are the perfect thing to wear for this event that I will be on my feet for hours for. They won't hurt my feet at all. 

I'm going to save all of my money. Starting tomorrow, because I already bought coffee today. 

I'll remember this very important thing. I don't need to set a reminder for myself. 

If I spend all this money on this new planner, I will be more productive. 

Those two pushups I did that one time two weeks ago are definitely going to pay off.

I'll start ____ on Monday. 

I'll like this haircut more when I get home. 

What other lies to you tell yourself?