Harder

This whole blogging thing is harder than I expected. Not that I am void of ideas, but rather void of a third arm to do my typing while I try to balance the other 327 things in my life. Things would be a lot easier if I could ever find a partner in my life that was a little less self indulged and a little more thoughtful. Maybe I'm just having one of those weeks when everything seems to weigh down on top of me at once. You know when you ask a man in your sweetest voice possible to pretty please with a cherry on top fix the vaccuum so you can get all the dog hair and chewed stick up off the carpet and you get an absent minded "yes dear" and two weeks later the same stick crap is splintering your feet? On top of that you spend 4 hours cooking him the most tedious dinner ever (try cooking something in oil when your 3 month old screams bloody murder if you aren't holding her) and he comes rushing in after work, hurredly puts the hockey game on, back to you while he scarfs down his dinner and completely ignores you. As I stood in the pile of splinters trying to sneak bites between entertaining my little girl, I had visions of dripping Visine in his food. Men, if you ever wonder why you have the shits, think back to the last time you pissed your woman off. And it's not that I'm not capable of fixing things myself, but with a baby in constant tow, being elbow deep in vaccuum isn't really realistic. Having a baby makes everything harder. Gone are the days when I could run in and pay for my gas and then fill up and go in less than 5 minutes. Gone are the days I could run into the store and grab a quick snack and a magazine, stopping briefly to flirt with the cute guy buying jerky. Yep, everything is so much harder...but I love her just the same. The part that I don't love is the man making everything harder!

The Beginning

And so the journey begins. My blogging journey that is. This is where I am going to share the raw, the real, and the really raw of my life. I feel like this is where I should insert the caution sign..."Readers Beware"...you might laugh, you might cry or you might just roll your eyes. How did I go from Maneater to Mama? There's no easy answer for that. I lost track somewhere between losing my virtue to careless parenting at 4 years old, to losing my virginity to a boy I barely knew at 14 years old and finally to losing my vagina to the miraculous birth of my daughter at 24 years old. Hitting a quarter of a century since my birth year as of this past week, I have been inspired to share with total strangers the good, the bad and the beautifully distorted of my life. So read on...if you dare.