Home is where the crazy is

Thirty-something years ago, I was born. Graced with average looks, average intelligence, an above average love of chocolate and, without a shadow of a doubt, the most spectacular mother in all of creation. Not an exaggeration. She’s better than everyone else’s.

Then school happened. Then it stopped happening (for me – not in general, although that would’ve been nice, right?)

I’ve spent the last 22 years (mostly) being a single parent to three of the most beautiful, most hilarious, most irreverent human beings known to man. Alright, that probably is an exaggeration. I’ll settle for ‘known to me’. Four years ago, Chaos Creator numero uno blessed the universe with a perfect, ginger freak of nature, henceforth known as Missy Fishy.

Now, I’m halfway through year two of a foundation degree in Psychology with Sociology. If I find the person whose bright idea that was, I’m not responsible for my actions. No… Wait… that was me. 😦

Hope you read this far down.

If you didn’t, I’m kinda typing to myself now.

Not that it would be an unusual state of affairs. I am a parent after all.



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