Mostly in an effort to keep myself focused with a regular reminder, I’d like to explain why this blog came to be, why I’m devoting precious time to it, and what I want it all to be about. Get ready for a ramble.
There are very few things in life that I treasure as much as my family (Cadbury Mini Eggs, and Kettle Chips are of course always in competition for my adoration. Sometimes I let them win). I love being married, and being a stay-at-home mom. It’s the life I dreamed of having. But I would be a liar if I said it was always roses, rainbows, chocolate, peaches and cream, and gummy bears. All of those things are heavenly and pretty much perfect. I would be a liar if I said I never felt down-in-the-dumps about my life, despite it being a pretty nice life. I can’t truthfully say either of those things. Sometimes I wish I could because then my world would be wrapped up in this nice, beautiful package, and the perfectionist in me could finally be at peace.
Alas (yes I just said alas), I live in an imperfect world. It drives me crazy. I want to be perfect. I can’t help it.
Back when the Husband and I decided to start a family, I remember being so excited and nervous to pee on that little stick, and then so let down when month after month that silly elusive second line failed to appear. I wanted so badly to get fat, and eat ice cream, then have this angel creature come into my life and grab my finger with his or her tiny fingers, then eventually call me mommy. Oh the fun we would have. And when that blessed line finally did appear I almost couldn’t believe that it was true. A baby. So happy. Biological clock at ease.
Fast forward a few years, when we now have two angel creatures in our midst. I live for them and they have pretty much become my world. Most days are simply put, so happy. We dance, we sing, we eat, we read, we play, we laugh. But (because there’s always a but), some days I’m elbow deep in diapers, potty-training, tantrums, chaos, noise, Don’t do that!, crying, laundry, dishes, hitting, throwing, and yelling. And I start to wonder what I got myself into, and then wondering if I’m a capable enough human being to handle it, and handle it well . . . plus be a good wife and an awesome redhead on top of that. There are people out there who just shouldn’t be parents right? Am I one of those? Because when I yell at my son for putting his boogers on my forehead while I’m sleeping, instead of calmly telling him not to do that, I start to feel like I have no right to parent these angel creatures as I keep calling them, since that’s what they are. So angelic, yet such little creatures.
So I need a way to remind myself, daily if necessary, to appreciate the good, bad, wonderful, crazy, yucky, quirky, and just plain weird. That’s what I intend to do with this blog, to write about my life, in its realness, and hopefully leave you readers lightened as I try to do the same for myself (yes, lighter minus the peanut butter cup I encourage you to eat while reading). That doesn’t mean I will never talk about serious things. It also doesn’t mean that I have a problem talking about taboo things, like poop. As long as I wouldn’t be ashamed of my grandmothers reading it, I plan on talking about it. Just know that I have some pretty spunky grandmas. It will also be a great writing outlet for me and all my randomness, and maybe someone out there will actually get it, maybe even like it, appreciate it, or look forward to it. Hey, a girl can dream. But be assured, I will use my sparkling personality, and dazzling wit to spread good times in a way only a fiery redhead can, in hopes that you will come back soon.