Well, if that doesn’t sum up adulthood, I’ll be damned if I know what does. Add parenthood into the mix and that’s a party no one’s escaping unscathed, with the evidence smeared all over Facebook to boot.
The older I get the more I understand that no one knows what the fuck they’re doing. Not even my sainted, perfect parents. Perhaps, especially them. We’re all just whistling past the graveyard, knowing, deep down, there’s something in there that we don’t want to think about. A lot of somethings. Maybe even zombie children hangry for our brains… That’s redundant, right? Everyone knows once you have children your brain becomes applesauce… … … which is why they want our brains! OMG! 42! My work here is done. Or not. Yeah.
So is this just another mom blog? Possibly. A collection of mommy and me too cute swallow stories about how my children are the greatest thing to ever happen to me? Um, no. Just… no. Truth is, I’m not entirely sure what this blog is quite yet. At this point its basically Schrodinger’s Blog. So grab your favorite coffee mug full of merlot (‘fess up, we all do it), sit back, and enjoy the paradox.