Hi world! This is my very first blog, but I believe I can bring a lot of interesting things to the web. Whether people read my blog or not, it's therapeutic for me.
About Me:
I'm a 24 year old full-time mom, employee, and wife. My husband will be 33 soon, and my son is 2 years old. I'm sure you can tell by the title I suffer from anxiety disorder (don't you dare poke your lip out! Push it back in... all the way... that's better). Anxiety has made me a little off kilter at times but without it, I'm not sure who I would be! Both my parents suffer from some sort of anxiety so it's a normal part of life for me. Seriously my dad was like a Vietnam vet (although he was never in the army...). He was always uber paranoid that someone would break in our house and would have a B.F. (Bitch Fit) if we left a door unlocked for even 23 seconds. So... Yeah... I'm a tad bit jumpy.
Anyway.. My husband is the definition of "calm" I don't think he's ever really excited so when we're together I'm like a high school girl hyped up off of Red Bull and Skittles and he's so calm! Thinking about how calm he is makes me want to go for a run to let out some energy for him! He is not easily upset, and he is very patient. Why he chose me the world may never know. Opposites attract maybe?
My kid. My sweet, mouthy, easily annoyed, stubborn baby boy DJ. *sigh* I love him to pieces! He's a little "me" so it's hard to discipline him when I think he's making a very valid point. DJ is very much a thinker and has no problems telling you exactly what's on his little mind.
Me: DJ, do you want to use the potty?
DJ: mmmmm.... No Thanks.
Really?? He really sat there and thought about it and politely declined! How am I supposed to potty train this little booger? Like his Father he is not easily excited so potty training boot camp was a bust. I bought candy, games, toys, prizes, sang and danced while DJ gave me a grumpy cat stare down.
I also work full-time as an escrow specialist for a mortgage company that apparently hires people off the street as upper management because I swear no one in upper management has a clue what I do. A typical work conversation is my boss asking me really, really idiotic questions that he should know the answer to. If he didn't have a name plate I'm sure he'd forget his own name. I mean questions that make me want to set fire to myself and jump from the 9th floor window... but they made sure to suicide proof the windows for times like this.
In conclusion: This blog will be about motherhood, anxiety, weight loss, marriage, and just life. Come back now ya hear?
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