Welcome Back Fanny Pack

Welcome back old friend... it has been too long. Fashion not function has kept us apart, until now. Yes, my dear accomplice in crime, Joni & I ventured out to Lagoon. No, we weren't going for the sake of our children dragging along our dutiful husbands or attempting to revisit our junior high days in cut-off acid washed jean shorts... we were going for us. One year shy of the big 30 and I have no shame. I love riding roller coasters! There I said it. The cat is out of the bag and this mom got out of the house! Perhaps I enjoy indulging in such risk taking behavior because I can scream at the top of my lungs and it's not directed at my children. Maybe I like the sensation of potentially wetting my pants and throwing up all in the same moment and it's not a wicked pregnancy side effect. No matter the reason, I tapped into my inner teenager with big bangs, braces and buds for breasts. I zipped my identity of wife, mother and public servant into my trusty black leather fanny pack and spent the day kicking it old school. I may not have come home at 1 am with cotton candy in my hair, but for a few hours I was alive!

DISCLAIMER!!

Okay, this disclaimer is threefold.

First and foremost, this blog is not for English majors. I admit that I have thrown out conventional grammar and punctuation, as I have had to make room in my feeble brain for more pressing information. Information such as, the perfect cookie dough consistency, how to engineer G-bean's mullet into pigtails, keeping track of diaper changes and feedings (it's all a blur), nodding (as if interested) at the appropriate times when my husband starts talking sports, remembering we have a dog and where I left it, and most importantly, attempting to get from point A to B with all of my clothes on.

Second, this is not a Christmas card or platform for perfection. We do not have any Nobel peace prize winners, presidential candidates, beauty queens or rocket scientists dwelling in our midst. This is purely a tribute to ordinary people doing extraordinarily odd things and calling it life.

Third, my alter ego, who is the author of this blog, tends to think she is quite witty when she has a captive audience. In the event she doesn't entertain you with her skewed interpretation of the world, move along and we won't charge you for the show.