Introductions usually suck

So here we go. I started a blog. Partly because I like to write. Mostly because the crazy outbursts in my head need a place to trickle out so I don't go absolutely postal in a grocery store during a temper tantrum in the cereal aisle.  (Exhibit A: I WANT THE MOST EXPENSIVE SUGARY CEREAL AND I WILL EMBARRASS THE CRAP OUTTA YOU IF YOU DON'T GET IT FOR ME!)

 I am a working mom of two...err three if you count my lovable but annoying as crap dog in the mix. I have a wonderful husband who spends most of his time fishing, hunting, playing cards or any other made up activity that gets him the *f* out of this nut house.

I have an interesting sense of humor. By interesting I mean that I usually have funny thoughts that in no way are appropriate for the situations I am in and should never be spoken around normal people. Read: socially awkward. But alas the diseased content does occasionally come spilling out of my mouth like a nuclear meltdown...and I'm left with the final thought of: "Well, that was awkward." What can I say? I have minor issues. Take a recent conversation with my boss. Yes my boss. This is getting good already, right? We are both fighting off some sort of cold virus but being in denial we call it allergies. (Don't want to be the jerk that spreads illness around the office...yuck ya lepers!) Benadryl comes up in that conversation. I say, "Benadryl knocks me out." Simple statement right? Do I just leave it there? Nope. I go on to spew "No, seriously. Mix it with alcohol and it's like I was roofied." Really? I had to bring date rape into this "professional" conversation? So he changed the subject and I slunk away to my office mentally giving my forehead a slap. I'm pretty classy.

My kids are currently ages 6 and 4. Daughter is the oldest and knows everything as you would expect from a first grade girl. Son likes robots, super heroes and still asks me to wipe his butt. I wonder if superman asked his mom to wipe his butt. They are constantly amazing me with their take on life. The craziest thing is that I see a lot of myself in them. Not a good thing when they repeat the things I say in fit of rage...oh crap you HEARD that??? I wouldn't trade them for the world. They are sleeping like angels now. Ask me again if I'd trade them in the morning when they are fighting over the last Trix yogurt in the fridge. (Another tantrum buy in the grocery store that I gave into...fricken expensive rainbow sugar cream with stupid rabbit on it.)

Sit back and enjoy the ride of what I call my crazy scatterbrained life. Or hate it. Whatever. You can go play cards with my husband then.