Creating this blog I had intended to create a place where people would not necessarily have to endure endless bad photos of my children, read every last detail of my emotions as a mom, or hear the gruesome details of trying to look like something other than a nursing, working, struggling to keep up the romance, married mom in upstate New York.

I have succeeded thus far, but fear that in doing so have artificially amputated an important part of myself. You write what you know, find humor in the every day and on and on. I could of course continue ranting about my co-workers god knows they give me plenty of ammunition, but wouldn’t that get tedious? We all have lousy people we have to deal with, right? I’d love to hear about yours, if only to make mine seem more normal. I could continue to share chestnuts from my trove of self-deprecating and of course the self-incriminating stories.
But I think to make this a place you can enjoy coming to, a place where you can count on humor, honesty and a liberal serving of absurdity I need to open the door to the mom in me. I pledge to keep things like this to a bare ass minimum.

And I’ll really will try not to do too much of this kind of thing.

With material like this I can’t promise to be 100% faithful to the rules.

I hope those of you who have been popping in to read my rants will be receptive to a softer (and stickier) side of me as I write about life with 2 girls, husband, a dog and a cat from hell.
I hope if you read something that moves you or enrages you, you’ll feel free to drop me a line. And for the record, I have had at least one emphatic protest* about Briar and the video, but I stand by her loving it and that we never caused harm.

*And, for the self-righteous record, the protest came from one of the people who laughed the loudest.