One. Uno. Un. Eins. Een.

Winging it

Severely winging it

Breaking it down....why the in heck am I starting a blog? I don't necessarily do well putting my stuff out there; the good; the bad; the oh so ugly. However, I need a space beyond my few lines of facebook to "get my emotions" out and honestly not everything I feel needs a fb reaction. I'm wanting to be open and honest as convey my struggles, triumphs, and laughter with life. 


My family is brand spanking new to military life. Brrrrrrraaaaaand new. My husband graduated OTS(that's officer training school for those not in the many acronym-ed lingo of the military...rather like me) the end of October '16 all of a week after my infant daughter underwent surgery for the tumor growing on the outside of her heart. That's a whole post in and of itself so I'll eventually get around to talking-or I suppose blogging about it. In my head I say anything remotely about blogging as heavily sarcastic. I still cannot believe I'm doing this. Blogging is for people that actually have something interesting to say or can write well or who knows something about anything. Not for little old (30 HA!) weirdo me. 

I'm a stay at home mom with 3 kids, my two youngest with my husband, my oldest I had as a teen with someone else. I have two fur babies Loki, our 5 year old lab mix with a heart of gold and tail of steel, and Perry (Hey! Where's Perry?) a classic persnickety cat that loves to sleep on someone and greets people at the door like a dog but don't change his food or litter. He'll go on an obnoxious meow strike at three o'clock in the morning. My youngest human baby is Katie, 10 months. Followed by Joshua, 5 years. Bradley is the oldest at 12. 

He's actually the main reason for starting this blog. He and I clash, butt, verbally sling garbage constantly at one another. We're probably too similar but bottom line is I struggle parenting him. He's diagnosed ADHD, high anxiety with precursors to depression. He struggles with everything. Seriously, we had an hour long meltdown about him putting on a fitted sheet. If he had life his way he would be catered to 100% of the time with little spurts of magnanimous behavior he should be over applauded for months after it happened. That's me being mostly sarcastic and of course I feel mean saying it but he really struggles with the most basic tasks. I'm also trying to back off from doing everything for him because honestly it was just easier. That entire meltdown about a fitted sheet could have been avoided if I had just done it but he's 12. It's past time. Way past time (for so many reasons I don't feel like explaining right now). 

So here is me. Showing my ugly and my struggles. Blog post 1: done. And only mostly terribly written-ly.