I selected the Easter chicks with the wonkey eyes as a background picture, because I can only imagine that I look pretty much exactly the same after a hectic day with the kids. It was hard to decide between that and the picture of the very serious stack of dusty, worldy books and the other picture of the woman blowing dandelion tufts into a field at sunset.
And by hard, I mean ridiculously easy.
In the 3,000 some odd pictures that Google Blogger provided to encapsulate my entire existence, only a single picture - the chick with the wonky eyes - came close to hitting the mark.
I'm not sure if that's a loss for Google Blogger or for me, but there you have it.
I am once again attempting to become a regular blogger, after years of disasterously boring and infrequent posts. In a world where luxury is defined as the number of seconds (or dare I dream - minutes) where my personal space isn't being grossly invaded by dirty, screaming household natives, I don't exactly know where I'll find the time and energy to devote myself to anything other than crying and defensive maneuvers.
And I know you guys are all like, "Lily...seriously...c'mon" and rolling your eyes, because I've attempted this before, and it was always kind of a wash, and you're thinking, "well, she USED to be funny, but now it's getting sad." And I couldn't agree more.
Trust me. I'll be the first one to admit that my blog is a sad, sad thing.
But the children are always here, and growing vegetables is getting old, and honestly, if I don't find another way to express myself other than through butternut squash and dinosaur T-shirts, I might actually lose my mind.
So here we go.
Attempt nuber 3895730327 at breathing life into this sad, dusty blog.
Shall we do a status update?
Lets.
Name: Mom, although I also go by "Mommy" and "Milk, Please"
Occupation: Safety and Nourishment officer. (I'm essentially a walking egg white)
Marital status: Married, although I have no idea how he's put up with me for this long
Number of children: Still 3. I'm sure it doesn't surprise you all, but somehow, on some level, I'm surprised. Like, really? You're still here? Okay, I suppose you want breakfast...
Pets: Two dogs, neither of which are particularly bright. And a Goddamn Cat.
General Physical Health: Malnourished, yet consistently 5-10 lbs heavier than before I had the third child. It boggles the mind.
General Mental Health: Pass.
Hobbies: Unloading the dishwasher. Growing
Favorite Quote: Bob the Builder. Can we fix it? Bob the Builder. YES WE CAN!!
Household Status: Barely hanging on by a thread. The floor hasn't been swept in a week and swiffer wet-jetted in a month, the boys room smells like pee, and a huge branch came down in a storm three weeks ago and is still on our roof. Our house looks abandoned, inside and out. I've been wearing the same jeans for 5 days in a row, and my husband can't bend his head to the right because he has a stress knot the size of Long Island. I haven't seen the surface of my dining room table or changed my bed sheets since Memorial Day. I've prepared and consumed dinner exactly 8 times this year. Our floor is a minefield of spit-up, toys, and hungry animals, and the baby's nails are so long they could probably cut glass.
THINGS ARE INTENSE.
But they are also wonderful.
The kids are - my life IS - intense and wonderful. (And dirty. And loud. And chaotic. And slightly cheesy-smelling)
I don't want you to think I'm unhappy.
Well, not big picture unhappy (although the small picture is giving me a run for my money). There are days when I laugh more than I cry, and those days are better than anything I could have ever imagined. They're 100% worth the days where I wake up to screaming and kicking and poop and demands for cookies and temper tantrums in the middle of ShopRite.
I promise, they are.
But I'm thinking, Hey, maybe blogging will help me work through those violent, poop-filled days a little better, so, like, maybe I won't lose my mind and my husband doesn't leave me for a woman who doesn't have Cheerios in her hair and wears matching outfits and make-up and adorable ballet flats.
Yes?
Yes.
Hooray for a fresh blog.
Hooray for wonky eyes.
