Beginning the Translations

I am fairly new to this whole... blogging thing. But it occured to me, after reading multiple blogs across the web, that a blog could be fairly therapeutic. Allowing a person to spew out thoughts and daily events? Without worrying that the internet itself will go "Shut up Erica, you know nothing! NOTHING!!!"

Ahem. Moving on.

It is entirely possible that I have lost my mind. I'm sure that all mothers have lost their minds at some point. I know that I couldn't possibly be as crazy as some others, right? RIGHT? Right. My craziness didn't actually start until my daughter was turning five. FIVE. I survived FIVE YEARS with my sanity relatively intact. That has to be a record.

But the tipping point? Two words. Medical-Retirement. Yep. You see, up until November 23rd of 2009, I had a full time job. A job that could make me work anywhere from 40 hours a week to 80+. It was hectic, it was hair-grabbingly insane at times... but it was a job. It gave me a break from husband and child.

And then... oooh boy. September 16 2009, Baby #2 arrives. He's gorgeous. He's adorable. But it does NOT change the fact that this makes TWO children. While I'm alone... because TADA, the military has sent my husband to Korea. Ooooh the possibilities. And in November, TADA... I'm medically retired due to BAD asthma.

I thought "Gee, this shouldn't be so bad." And then BAM. No sleep. Just me. No sleep again. Just me again. WOW, I didn't realize that going to the store could take over an hour just to LEAVE THE EFFIN HOUSE.

/ end hyperventilation

But you know what? Despite the craziness, and how freakin complicated it is? I am actually... le gasp... beginning to enjoy myself. There was something I missed while working full time. I missed the day to day developments. I missed raising my child the way I wanted her raised... and now I have a second chance. I can begin to imprint my knowledge (when my brain works) upon my children, and know that everything they are is because of MY influence. The Good, the Bad, and the Embarrassing.

Because there isn't quite anything so embarrassing as your five year old daughter hollering at passers-by in the mall "My mommy feeds my baby brother from her BOOBS."

Thanks Bree-ball.