Tag: SAHM

#NaBloPoMo Day 6: Birthday Month

On By VeeIn Family, Marriage, Parenting, Upstate New York12 Comments

Welcome to NaBloPoMo Day 6, where the theme du jour is Birthdays!  Don’t forget to read yesterday’s post, where I talk about how jealous I am of my sister-in-law’s very ripe cervix.  How’s that for a non-sequitur?

November is my Birthday Month — no wonder I love it so much.  (And yes, forget birthday weeks, I’m all about birthday months).

This year I am turning 32, which sounds just so old to me.  But then I think about the year I turned 12, when I ugly cried because I was sad about how ancient I was.  So maybe with a little perspective, I can appreciate that when I turn 52, I’ll also feel like that sounds pretty old.  And I’ll laugh back at my 32-year-old self because I was actually so young back then.

Honestly, I’m quite tempted to feel sorry for myself on my birthday this year.  Because I’m going to be spending it so very, very alone.  I’m introverted, and shy, and awkward, and most of the time, I don’t even care.  But there’s something about birthdays, at least for me.  As much as I don’t want to be noticed in general, I do secretly always hope people will make a big deal on my birthday.

But alas, I’m alone in a new city, taking my sweet introverted time making new friends.  No extended family within hundreds of miles in any direction.  So all of my birthday hopes fall on my husband.  My poor husband who is in the throes of his intern year.  My poor husband who is working six or seven days a week.  Who leaves the house every day at 5:00 a.m. and doesn’t get home until 7:00 or 8:00 p.m.  Yeah, that husband.  I don’t expect much from him, but it’s a bit of a bummer that we won’t really get to spend any time together.  Maybe I can I count on my two-year-old and my 11-month-old for some birthday love?

I guess the good news is, no adults will be around to witness my annual birthday face-stuffing.  I’m going to shot-gun an entire pizza, Liz Lemon-style.

And as I’m eating my way through my feelings, I’ll try to remember that a birthday is just one day in a year full of other days.  And that year is just one year in a lifetime full of other years.  So what if  the actual Day Of is kind of underwhelming? It’s been a good year, and it’s been a great life.

Until next time,

Vee

Birth Story Jealousy (#NaBloPoMo Day 5)

On By VeeIn Family, Parenting, Pregnancy5 Comments

It’s Day 5 of my NaBloPoMo, which means we’re already 1/6th of the way through November, folks.  I’m having a blast exploring topics like how my husband is a doofus and how working for biglaw is like working for the devil.  Today’s NaBloPoMo theme is Jealousy, that beautiful green-eyed monster.  Ugh, why does she have to be so beautiful?

Confession time: I struggle with birth story jealousy.  Is it just me, or do people classify birth stories based only the the level of perceived bad-assery?  If you had a vaginal birth after 105 hours of drug-free, doctor-free labor, you are a warrior.  And if you had a c-section after 2 hours of laboring on the good stuff, you are a wimp.

Well I think that dichotomy is really fucking stupid, but I still can’t help but feel jealous of women whose birth stories resemble the former rather than the latter.  I guess I want to be regarded as a warrior, too?

My birth story jealousy started before I even gave birth to my first kid.  I had a “we’ll see” mentality about the epidural, and I was most definitely planning to have my son in the hospital.  But, I was surrounded by women who had the most natural of natural births.  Both my mom and my sister — six children between them — birthed at home without epidurals or doctors.  I mean, my sister freaking squat-pushed her first baby out onto her living room floor.  Even if I didn’t want to do that, I felt incredibly inadequate because I wasn’t willing to try.

As much as I yearned to tell an epic, amazonian birth story, I was actually terrified of —  and grossed out by — the idea of childbirth.  Maybe even a little bit hopeful that I would end up with a c-section? Is that awful?

So you can probably guess from the preamble that both of my children were born via c-section.  With K-Man, I developed hypertension and suspected pre-eclampsia at 37 weeks.  I was induced with pitocin, but failed to ever progress past 1 cm after about 20 hours.  So when K-Man started having decelerations, I was taken in for a somewhat emergent c-section.  With Ell-Bell, though I was hoping for a VBAC, I developed that darned hypertension again at 37 weeks.  My OBs didn’t really want to induce me for a VBAC when I was not even a little bit dilated, so back to the OR I went.

In case you were wondering, both of my c-sections were actually great.  I was awake and lucid, I experienced overwhelming love when my children came into the world, and my recovery was A+.  But I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that I was “just” a c-section momma — like I had copped out somehow.  (Why did I feel like that? I was fricking cut in half, is that not badass?)

It didn’t help that my sister-in-law (SIL) had both of her children at the same time I had both of my children, and that both of her births were, well, warrior status.

A few weeks after after I had K-Man, SIL was overdue with her first born and developed actual eclampsia.  When her doctor prescribed her magnesium sulfate — the supposed death knell for any natural birth plan — her midwife reportedly cried.  (Major eye roll.)  But of course, SIL powered through, labored forever, refused the epidural, and had a vaginal birth.  Of course.

And a few months after I had Ell-Bell, SIL accidentally had her baby at home.  Like, she didn’t make it to the hospital. I guess her cervix was just too ripe (why even is that a thing that I am jealous of?)  But seriously, how gross is it that when I heard my precious niece was born, my first reaction was a jealous “ugh, of course.”  I’m a bad person.

 

But anyways, I know — I know — it’s time to let this jealousy go.  There is a much bigger picture here, which is that that I am so incredibly lucky to have two beautiful, healthy children.  Who cares whether they came out of my vagina, or my abdomen, or some other woman’s body?

Until next time,

Vee

#NaBloPoMo Day 4: Embarrassed at the Pediatrician

On By VeeIn Family, Parenting6 Comments

It’s Day 4 of my NaBloPoMo November, and I’m having a blast!  Speaking of fun, today’s theme is Embarrassing*.  Speaking of not fun, be sure to catch yesterday’s post about how much I hated being a lawyer.

I knew when I decided to have kids that they would embarrass me from time to time.  So far so good though, for the most part.  Ell-Bell is too young to be embarrassing (except when she’s pulling down my shirt and exposing me in public), and K-Man tends to save his truly horrifying antics for inside the home.

But I have to say, K-Man got me good at the pediatrician the other day.  You see, Hubby and I have decided not to mess around with cute names for the more private parts of the human anatomy.  We’ve taught K-Man that a butt is a butt, and a penis is a penis.  And now that Ell-Bell is in the picture, he knows all about vaginas too!  Every night during bath time, K-Man is encouraged to wash his butt and his penis, and he likes to talk about it as he does it.  “I need wash my butt and I need wash my pee-nis!”  Perfectly normal, I think.  That is, perfectly normal in the privacy of our own home!

So we were at the pediatrician the other day for flu shots, and K-Man was getting a quick check-up beforehand.  He’s a really cute patient. He told the pediatrician what the otoscope was for, and then he leaned in helpfully as she looked in his ear.

But things got weird when the pediatrician pulled out the stethoscope.  After first listening to his chest, she then leaned over him and said, “I’m just going to listen to your back now, ok?”

And for god knows what reason, Keegan responded quietly, “Tha’s my back.  Aaaand tha’s my butt, aaand tha’s my pee-nis!” And words weren’t enough, no, he also gestured with his little finger in the direction of first his butt, and then his penis.  And then he looked up at the pediatrician expectantly, with a super odd little smile on his face.  What? Why? Why did he need to identify his butt and penis for her when she merely indicated that she was going to listen to his back? What was going on in that weird little brain?

I, of course, devolved into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, and didn’t come up for air for probably half a minute.  Uncomfortable laughter, much?  The pediatrician smiled gently and kept working through the check-up.  I’m sure she hears weirder shit multiple times a day.

I don’t know why I was so embarrassed.  I mean, I should be proud, right? My son knows his anatomy! But for whatever reason, I was totally mortified, and I think my face was red for the rest of the visit.  I guess I’m not as down with potty language as I thought.

It’s ok though, K-man can embarrass me all he wants right now.  I’m going to get him back so fricking good when he’s a teenager.

 

Until next time,

Vee

*Embarrassing is spelled with two Rs? Really? Since when?

 

 

#NaBloPoMo Day 3: Will I Ever Lawyer Again?

On By VeeIn Family, Parenting5 Comments

Today’s theme in my self-designed NaBloPoMo is Career.  Don’t forget to read yesterday’s  post, where I reminisced about my stupid ex-boyfriend.

This week, I have to shell out $375 big ones to renew my biannual attorney registration in New York.  Blurgh.  It’s giving me a lot of heartburn, not just because my old firm used to cover this cost, but also because I don’t know if I’ll ever lawyer again.  Am I wasting my money?*

As much as I’m enjoying it, I don’t plan to be a stay-at-home-mom indefinitely.  I expect to re-enter the out-of-home work force again someday, probably once the kids are in school.  But that is about as solid as my plans get.  In a few years, will I be ready to return to lawyering? I’m really not sure.

Lawyering and I — we knew each other for seven years.  And after all that time, I’m still not sure I would call us friends.  Most of the time, I hated my old job at a big corporate law firm.  It really boiled down to two things:

  • They treated associates like garbage.  Partners had zero respect for personal time, a life outside of the office, family commitments, etc.  Even when I was very pregnant, I was being asked to pull unnecessary all-nighters.  And after I had K-man, I was given a talking to because my hours took a hit. That left a bad taste.
  • They treated clients like garbage.  Clients were billed by the hour, and partners went to great effort to conjure up extraneous work that needed doing so that those hours really racked up.  (And as you can imagine, associates who were creative with their billing were rewarded).  We worked for some of the least sympathetic corporate clients you could imagine, but I still felt icky when we sent them bills for shit they never asked us to do.

Maybe corporate law isn’t in my future, but does that mean I have to walk away from the legal field entirely? I invested six figures and three years into getting my JD.  That’s a lot to leave on the table, and surely there are other areas of law that aren’t as wholly demoralizing.  But will anyone want to hire me for a specialty that I’m not trained in, especially after a 3+ year hiatus?

To be fair, I have paid off all my law school loans, and I was a lawyer for longer than I was a law student, so maybe it’s okay to move on?  The real problem with moving on is, I have zero — ZERO — clue what else I could do as a career.

I like sports . . . I could do something in sports? [There’s a little George Costanza Easter egg for you.]

More seriously, when I was having a rough day at my old job, you know what I dreamed about doing instead? Being a math tutor. Weird, right?

200_s

Maybe I’ll get lucky and my dream job will fall into my lap.  Or who knows, maybe I’ll embrace the long-term SAHM-gig, go hard with the PTA, and coach the shit out of some little league.  I have a few years to figure it out.

Until next time,

Vee

*I can’t just let my registration lapse while I take some time off.  I mean, I could, but then if I ever wanted to go back to the lawyer world, I would have to apply to get reinstated with the bar, which would be a major bummer.

 

 

 

#NaBloPoMo Day 1: Marriage is Hard

On By VeeIn Family, Marriage, Parenting10 Comments

As I mentioned in my previous post, I’m taking on NaBloPoMo this November, and because I’m a little special at using the internet, I’ve gone ahead and crafted my own list of 30 themes.  Marriage is kind of a big deal, so I figured why not kick things off on Day 1 with a post dedicated to Married Life?

First things first, am I the only person who hears the word “marriage” and immediately converts it to “mawwiage”? Raise your hand if you grew up watching the Princess Bride. (Side story, Hubby and I were in a fit of giggles during our vows on our wedding day, because we kept whispering “mawwiage” to each other. #RealMature).

mawwiage

Anyway, marriage is hard, y’all.  Every marriage requires major compromise and consists of significant unrest (let’s be honest).  And also, marriage is petty.  So in the spirit of being majorly petty, I’m going to take a few minutes to dish on my husband.  Because, god love him, he can be a bit of a butt-head.

butthead

So why, you ask, is Hubby a butt-head? Well…

  • He DEMANDS that the toilet paper be installed with the flap on top.  When we first started dating, I unknowingly replaced the toilet paper with the flap hiding in the back, and boy oh boy did I get an earful. But I mean, I had lived the first 21 years of my life with no rhyme or reason to how each new roll of toilet paper was installed, and I turned out ok, so …
  • While we’re on the subject of toilets, Hubby spends HOURS on the porcelain throne.  And he usually decides to go to the bathroom at the worst time.  Like, when I’m drowning in kids. He’s all, “oops, nature calls, gotta go sit on the toilet and scroll  Imgur for 30 minutes.” And let’s be honest, I’m not above texting him while he’s relieving himself and asking him to hurry the EFF up.  I mean, I’m drowning in kids, after all.
  • Moving out of the bathroom and into the kitchen: when Hubby is done using a knife, he likes to leave it on the counter with the handle hanging over the edge.  Jesus H, it’s not like we have two little munchkins running around pulling shit off the counters at every opportunity or anything . . .  Fack!
  • Hubby does not know how to load the dishwasher.  He’s like, SO bad at it that I’ve considered writing him a manual.  Of course, I should be so lucky when he actually takes it upon himself to load the dishwasher.  More often than not, he puts his used dishware on the counter … the completely clean counter … the one that I’ve just cleared of dirty dishes that are now in the dishwasher.  I brought this up last night and Hubby said, “How am I supposed to know that the dishes in the dishwasher are dirty?”  Gee, mystery of mysteries.
  • He is a horrible grocery shopper.  It takes him like an hour and a half to get a cart-full of things that would take me 20 minutes to collect.  I don’t understand it, and I have to do a lot of “serenity now”-ing while I sit at home (drowning in kids) waiting for him to finish.
  • Hubby likes to slip into accidental naps on the couch while I’m in the other room, drowning in kids.
  • He does not wake up to the baby crying in the middle of the night.  So, you know, I’m not allowed to get mad at him that he doesn’t volunteer to go in to soothe the baby, because it’s not his fault that he doesn’t wake up.

So yeah, that’s Hubby in all his Imgur-scrolling, couch-napping glory.  As for me, well, I think I have a pretty good idea what this list would look like if Hubby was writing about me.  I won’t lie to you guys, I’m not perfect: I like to leave the Pringles foil seal partially attached to the can after I open it; I never EVER notice the perforated lines when I’m opening a box of food; and uh, yeah, I guess I’m a bit of a nag.

Every marriage has its quirks, and honestly, I think we need these minor frustrations to keep things running.  If we didn’t blow off steam nagging each other about the dishes and the Pringles foil seal, who knows what kind of epic explosion could be in store down the road.  And to be completely honest, the things that make Hubby a butt-head, well, I think most of them are kind of cute.  I’d miss them if, heaven forbid, we were no longer together.

The dude drives me nuts, but he sure makes me smile.

Until next time,

Vee

 

 

#NaBloPoMo, Here I Come

On By VeeIn Uncategorized29 Comments

Is NaBloPoMo still a thing?  When I was blogging before, I was vaguely aware that in November, some bleeps (blog peeps, duh) participated in something called National Blog Posting Month, where the goal was to post a blog entry every single day.  After about about 5 minutes of Google searching, my impression is that NaBloPoMo is no longer hip or with it.  Or at the very least, no one is talking about it this year.  (Or everyone is talking about it and I’m really bad at Googling).  But I don’t care if I’m a few years late to the party.  I’m into it.  I hereby declare this November my NaBloPoMo.

And because I couldn’t find the sanctioned NaBloPoMo prompts for this year, I created my own list of daily themes that I plan to touch on.  If you’re some kind of genius (or entry-level internet user, whatever) who knows where the official list of prompts is, just maybe keep it to yourself rather than exposing my internet ineptitude, ok?

So my thirty days of NaBloPoMo themes are below.  I’m hoping they give me the opportunity to write about some things on my mind, and maybe tell you a little bit more about myself.  And while I’m a lawyer by trade, intellectual property law is not my specialty, so these babies are absolutely not copyrighted.  Feel free to borrow any or all themes if you’ve got the NaBloPoMo bug, too

Drum roll, please…

  1. Married Life
  2. Ex-Boyfriends/Ex-Girlfriends
  3. Career
  4. Embarrassing
  5. Jealousy
  6. Birthdays
  7. In-laws
  8. Police Encounters
  9. High School
  10. Fathers
  11. Veterans
  12. Photograph
  13. Superstition
  14. Money
  15. Frenemy
  16. Reality TV
  17. Sports
  18. Discipline
  19. Injury
  20. Pets
  21. Proposal
  22. Visitors
  23. Thankful
  24. Shopping
  25. Diet
  26. Dream House
  27. Christmas
  28. Charity
  29. Hair
  30. Books

November is coming, my friends.  And it’s the most wonderful month of the year. (Except for December, of course).

Until next time,

Vee

Why does my kid always…

On By VeeIn Family, ParentingLeave a comment

Why does my daughter always …

  • Poop her diaper the second after I change her into a fresh one.
  • Take short naps when I need to get something done, and long naps when I need to get out the door.
  • Spit her pacifier onto the floor every time we’re in a public restroom.
  • Hide food in her neck folds, and somehow, also in her diaper.
  • Try to touch my brain (via my nostrils) whenever I hold her.
  • Get a head cold, followed by an ear infection, followed by a diaper rash. Rinse and repeat.  And repeat.  And repeat.
  • Insist on unfolding the laundry as soon as I’ve folded it.
  • Bee-line for the kitties’ water dish as soon as I put her down on the floor.
  • Cry from exhaustion, but then do metaphorical (or sometimes actual) cartwheels when I try to put her down for a nap.

And why does my son always…

  • Refuse to fall asleep in the car until we’re 5 minutes away from our final destination.
  • Magically identify and extract new vegetables from his meal.
  • Ignore a toy all day, but need to play with it immediately if baby sister shows any interest in it.
  • Refuse to wear a jacket or use a blanket, no matter how cold it is.
  • Try to choke me out when hugging me from behind.
  • Drink bath water by the gallons.
  • Confess his hiding place when playing hide-and-seek.
  • Have a growth spurt right after I drop a fortune on new clothes.
  • Talk about his penis to strangers.
  • Squeeze the full juice box before he puts the straw in his mouth.

Why do blowouts come in threes?

Why do the Terrible Twos start at 18 Months? And when oh when do they end?

Why does it hurt like a mofo to step on a Hotwheels car?

And how is it possible that in spite of everything, my kids melt my heart over and over again, every single day?

Until next time,

Vee

Screen Time: Is My Kid Watching Too Much TV?

On By VeeIn Family, Parenting3 Comments

Alright, I’m going to be completely honest, because this blog is anonymous, and because the first step is admitting you have a problem.  On some days (on a lot of days — maybe even more often than not), my 2.5-year-old watches a full 2 hours of TV.  Ugh, gross.  This is the first time I’ve said that number out loud.  It sounds outrageous.  (But if your kid watches more TV than that, I totally don’t judge you!)

Now I’ve been on social media enough to know that everyone thinks screen time is basically the devil.  And parents who expose their children to TV are doing the devil’s work.  (Well at least now I know what I’m going to be for Halloween, right?)  So why am I admitting that my son watches an enormous amount of TV? I don’t know, I guess I have a sneaking suspicion that lots of parents rely on TV to parent, and maybe we can normalize it a little bit. Yes? No? I’m all alone, you say?

Well in my defense, I guess, things weren’t always this bad.  When K-Man was in daycare, he watched maybe 30 minutes of TV a day, tops.  I will admit that I started him early, out of what I felt was necessity.  When Hubby was in med school and I was still working, Hubby was usually out of the house by the time I needed to get ready for the day.  And K-Man woke up at an ungodly hour almost always.  How is a girl supposed to shower and blow dry her hair with a baby all up in her business?  So, I would situate K-Man in the bathroom with my iPad, and let him watch Elmo’s World while I preened.  And on the weekends, well, K-Man didn’t sleep in.  Which means I didn’t sleep in.  Which means I got in the habit of sitting him on my lap, turning on some trusty Elmo, and snoozing on the couch while his brain slowly melted away.

And then we pulled K-Man out of daycare in anticipation of our move to Upstate New York.  That move, man, it killed us.  Have you ever tried to pack up your life with a 2-year-old and a nursing baby in tow? It is fricking impossible. So I’ll just go ahead and admit it: my son watched Moana and Cars pretty much on loop for about two weeks straight while Hubby and I packed.  Moana is a great babysitter, even though she’s only 16.  So by the time we were all moved, K-Man was a legit addict.  Every other sentence was, “Watch Cars? Watch Moana?”

It took a few more weeks to rid him of that particular habit, but the upshot is that the kid still watches a lot of TV (though he’s moved on to a YouTube obsession). I mean, it all adds up so quickly.  There’s usually an hour when he first wakes up.  It’s just that I feel like absolute death in the morning, and when I have to roll out of bed to deal with two maniacal kids, I don’t have much fight in me.  So I let him watch while I peel my eyes open, read my social media, make us some breakfast, get dressed, brush my teeth, and put my contacts on.  And then every time I have to nurse Ell-Bell (aka, the fussiest, most picky, most distracted nurser ever), I have to take her to another room, which means K-Man gets to hang out with the TV (aka, his babysitter) yet again.  And then there’s the after-nap grumpies, when K-Man is not human and needs to sit on the couch and zone out with some shows for a bit.  And on the worst days, little dude even gets to watch a bit before bed.  Because sometimes by the end of the day, I just can’t even.  So yeah, you can see how we hit two hours some days. Yikes.

We are always working on it, but I’m also trying to give myself a bit of a break.  I’m still learning how to Mom.  And gosh darnit, sometimes TV is educational.  Yeah, yeah, there are probably better ways to learn, but let me have this one.

All that being said, I do try to stick to some guidelines when it comes to the boob tube:

  • No more than an hour at any given time.  Let’s give that poor melting brain some time to re-congeal before we melt it all over again
  • Educational. We try to stick to TV that has at least some redeeming value. K-Man loves to watch nursery rhyme compilations on YouTube, and I totally attribute the fact that he knows his ABCs, colors, shapes, and numbers to those shows. I mean, the kid isn’t even three yet and can identify all the letters—both upper and lower case—and can also count up to 30-10!
  • I don’t offer it.  If he wants to watch TV, he has to ask for it.  And don’t worry, he does.
  • We have to do something else.  If it’s a TV-heavy day, we absolutely must get out of the house, at least once but usually twice, to do something completely different.
  • Snuggles or no deal.  My kid is extra cuddly when he’s watching TV, so if I’m not taking advantage of it, what am I even doing with my life?

So them’s the rules!  In the event that you’re interested in coming over to the dark side and need some TV recommendations, might I suggest Little Baby Bum, Clifford, or Daniel Tiger? Ugga mugga!

Until next time,

Vee

 

#CuteKids

On By VeeIn Family, Marriage, Parenting, Upstate New York9 Comments

Hi, I’m Vee, and I have cute kids. Two, to be exact. And a pretty darn cute husband too.  While I used to be a corporate litigation attorney in Washington, D.C., my family recently moved to upstate New York for my husband’s new job.  And with the move, a new title for me: stay-at-home mom. Yay? Yikes? Only time will tell.  I will say that this career change was very much wanted, and I will say that I have a lot–a LOT–of reservations.  I’m giving myself grace and if it’s too fricking* hard, then bully for me for trying, and back to the lawyering world I go!

Since this is my inaugural post, I guess a few more details about me and my cuties are warranted.  As for me, I grew up in the American southwest.  Love me some cactus, hate me some rattlesnakes.  I went to college in Canada (ice ice baby), and law school in the northeast (clam chowdah baby).  Then it was 3 years in New York City as an associate at a top-tier law firm, and 4 more years in D.C. as an associate at a satellite office of the same law firm.  I guess that’s not a small amount of moving around.  I’m 31-years-old (almost 32 but shut up ok?) and I’m a Scorpio.  Not that I know anything about astrology … but maybe that detail is relevant for those of you who do.

I met the husband (“Hubby”) in high school, but we didn’t start dating until the end of college.  We’ve been married for just over five years, and I think we’re pretty good stuff.  We certainly have our issues, but they’re workable.  Hubby just finished med school in D.C., and then started his residency program up here in July.  He is a 33-year-old Gemini, for those of you keeping score.

Our son, who I’ll refer to as “K-man” for now, is a glorious little tow-headed two-year-old.  He’s my world.  He’s a nightmare in the flesh. Like, good lord, are all two-year-olds sociopaths or is my kid broken? K-man, an Aquarius, enjoys playing with Hotwheel cars — like, ALL the Hotwheel cars — and munching on bowls full of Pepperidge Farms goldfish.  I have a sneaking suspicion he’s a genius, but it’s hard to wade through the bias.

Our daughter, “Ell-Bell” for the time being, is almost eleven-months-old.  Girlfriend is chuuu-bby.  Like, that’s the first thing strangers will say about her when they see her.  I hope they stop, soon, before she develops a complex.  She also has the most mesmerizing blue eyes I’ve ever seen — swoon!  Ell-Bell is a Sagittarius who enjoys cheese sticks and stealing Hotwheels from her brother.  They already love each other so much.

So that’s our little family.  Why this blog, why now? Well, I used to blog feverishly about my efforts to get pregnant with K-man, and I found it very therapeutic.  Alas, that blog has served its purpose, and I feel like it’s time to start fresh. I find myself narrating blog posts in my head all the time, so why not put pen to paper?

I hope that this will be a blog about everything.  Parenting, marriage, extended family, life up here in the frigid north, shower thoughts, etc., etc. I’m not that picky.  Honestly, I’m just a girl who’s alone in a new place, with an isolating job, and I need someone to talk to!  A blank screen will do the trick.

Until next time,

Vee

 

*Sometimes I get a little excited and use “colorful” language. I’ve tried to be good in this post, but I can’t promise future posts won’t drop a few four-letter words here and there.  I’d love to say “sorry not sorry” but I actually am kind of sorry. So, yeah, sorry in advance.