Whomever coined the phrase, “Just be yourself” was a dumb ass. Let me preface the rest of my blog by saying, I have not had chocolate or caffeine in about a week and I am about to stick a fork in my left eye. Oh, and “dumb ass” is an understatement. Who started this JBY joyride of ridic-u-larity? Look, the LAST thing anyone wants to hear, when they are in limbo about reality, is a pep talk from a SAHM who has let herself go and who is wearing apple bottom jeans that are two sizes too small. Crack isn’t legal. Just sayin’. Oh, and I don’t wear apple bottom jeans. They scare me with all that gold.

The fact is, the intention of the JBY band wagon is a good one, but sometimes the message can be misconstrued. When I was 12, and my Mom gave me the “If your friends jump off a bridge…” lecture, I couldn’t tell you what I had for lunch that same afternoon, much less who I was. Sometimes, when my 5-1/2-year-old is screaming at the top of her lungs in a temper tantrum, I want to say, “Today, why don’t you be someone else. Maybe like that sweet quiet girl over there.” Sometimes I want her to take a furlough from “herself”…a vacation, if you will; everybody gets tired of themselves every once in a while.

Like a 12-year-old, as a SAHM, I too have wanted to be transformed. With the body of Jillian Michaels, the entreprenurial mind of Oprah and the craftiness of Martha Stewart, I could rule the world. Or at least pay the bills and have a little spending money to get a pedicure…er… without standing on the corner, playing tunes on water-filled Coca Cola bottles. (It’s hot in summer you know; I wear sandals.)  But unlike a 12-year-old, I know that it’s NOT keeping up with the Jones’ or being someone else that one should seek, it’s simply being a better person. You know, kind of like the old Army slogan:

…minus the fatigues and a drill sargent with bad breath….and the two-year contract. Hey, I read the fine print.

Look, when my daughters turn 12, and come to me with a look of despair, I’ll probably tell them the same thing my Mom once told me. But, if I can’t bark with the big dogs (and I’m still wearing rollers in my hair and pink bunny slippers) the return message is going to blink, “FAIL!” I don’t care if I’m Marmaduke, if I don’t have my morals and values in check, they are going to see right through me…and I don’t want to be Saran Wrap.

Do you?