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All of these stories are mostly true. I say “mostly” because people around here think I exaggerate. Which I do. Everybody who tells a good story emphasizes some parts and skips others. There’s the stuff that I’ve completely forgotten, or skip altogether because its just plain boring. But you know that, right? I mean, who wants to hear the straightforward story?
The reality is: I’m a 40-something freelance consultant with a wonderful family which puts up with my using their exploits (God bless them) as blog fodder. That family (and fodder) includes a husband with a fantastic sense of humor, and two sons who will one day appreciate it.
I love to read – even if it’s junk. I’ll watch a really bad movie more than once only if it’s science fiction. I love to travel and wish I could more. I exercise only because I love good food and craft beer to excess and want more of both than I should have. I’m also picky, judgmental, and self absorbed. I’m unafraid to embarrass myself for a good laugh. I’m a Virgo but I’d rather be a Leo. My worst fear is that one day everyone will one day find out what a huge narcissist I am.
And I’ve died my hair red. Twice. It wasn’t a good look on me, but I had to be sure.
Married to the mania
Since this is primarily a blog about my personal perspective as a mother and a wife, Mike will factor in it fairly regularly, and I may borrow from his brilliant sense of humor from time to time, so it’s only fair I introduce you.
My long suffering husband of 22 years, Mike is the person who is most likely to be irritated by my exaggerations, but he’s such a great editor, I run everything by him anyway. He’s well read and organized and very funny, and somehow manages to be humble all at the same time. He shares my love of food and beer but he’s not picky like I am, or judgmental, or narcissistic for that matter, so I’m not sure how he’s put up with me for this long. He’ll sit with me through some of the worst science fiction movies ever made, in exchange for my sitting through some of the raunchiest, low brow comedy movies of all time with him. Come to think of it, I usually make him sit through the raunchiest, lowest brow ones by himself, which doesn’t seem to have upset the balance in our marriage to date, so I consider myself very lucky.
He wasn’t a big fan of the red hair, either time, but he didn’t stop me.
Making more maniacs
So, yeah, you know. These guys. These are our delightfully imperfect progeny and the subjects (with their permission) of many of these posts. As of this writing, both are currently entering into a time of their lives where we have to think about fending off girls and planning for driver’s training.
We blame them for my propensity to drink too much beer.
Each has developed a fairly sophisticated sense of humor, mostly in the interest of self-defense, and are otherwise completely different from each other. They regularly engage in conversations about what their superpower would be if they were superheroes. Colin, the younger, would be stretchy, so he could stretch around the world multiple times. Because that would be cool. Jack would be super-fast.
My superpower would be the ability to read in a moving vehicle.