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First time blogger, long term writer. By long term, I mean that I am 40 something and starting writing apology notes to every human I ticked off by age 4. My parents are huge on manners. I get drunk gymnastic butterflies in my tummy every time I have something to write about. With 3 kids, a traveling husband, a day job in pharmaceuticals and a rest of the clock learning, teaching and using essential oils – there is always something to blurt out. Not because I have anything profound to say, but because I want people to know that there is someone else out there who has felt the same emotions, yelled the same verbiage and can share a resounding “me too”.

We all have a story. Over years of being in this mum game, I have come to discover that, more often than not, mine story sounds like hers, yours and theirs. As chronic over-sharer, Facebook has been my venting platform for years. Kids talking smack – post. Hormones giving me the middle finger – post. 97th time being that school parent that forgot about camp or school notes or lunch orders – post. There are no parent of the year awards hanging on my fingerprint stained walls. Not a slew of perfect, happy family pics around the house because, well…printing, frames, nails, too many crooked holes in the wall. But I have been comfortable enough, sometimes even desperate enough, to share my story – my struggles, my failures and once in leap year, those teeny tiny little wins, with my honest heart on my snot stained sleeve.

And while all this time I was sure my “venting” has been the therapy to kept me out of rehab, turns out….your stories are so much like mine. You get me, I get you and we are in this whole ridiculous whirlwind job together.

Grab your coffee, your wine, your pelvic floor, your tissues and whatever sense of humour you have left and lets get this adventure started.