First things first :)

It's 10pm and both my boys are sick and asleep. The house is totally silent except for the tic...tic..tic...of William's swing in the nursery (head cold central) and my hubby's snoring from our bedroom (stomach flu headquarters). I am on the couch in the living room, wide-eyed, nervous, clutching an industrial size can of Lysol in one hand while I type with the other. The germs are absolutely everywhere. I can feel them. I would open the windows to let them all out if that very action wouldn't let a ton of spring pollen come flooding in. There's no escape. I'm bound to get sick. And when Mom gets sick, there's no boss to call in to. No time to lounge in bed for days. No relief in sight. And it's only Tuesday.

Much like life, this little blog will not be perfect. It will not be constantly (unnaturally) blissful. It’s here for my eyes and the eyes of those who want to take a peek into my day-to-day (brave souls). I will likely rant, rave, and tell you more than you want to know, but I will also share my joy, my glorious little moments with my sweet son and family that I may forget if I don’t document them, and I will count my blessings. Happy to have you with me.

Now to introduce the major Loggins players:

My wonderful husband Marty will be referred to as “M” or “hubby”. I met him almost 4 years ago at a house party at 3am and we (well, of course!) hit it off right away ;) I was wearing red high heels and red lipstick and I loved his red pomp and tattoos ;) I still do. We are extremely nontraditional , but have ended up trying to fit in - but not tooooo far in - to a very traditional town. We drink too much when we go out and we sometimes fight like the Irish (he) and the Greek/Irish (me) that we are. We like rock and dive bars and playing pool all night long. We don’t see eye to eye on every single thing, but we have a common picture of the future. Our future. He proposed to me in December ‘08. We got married 3 weeks later in Vegas the weekend before Christmas and never looked back. I love him.

Our amazing, perfect, Marty clone of a sweet baby boy (8 1/2 month old William) will be “W” from now on. He makes my day. Everyday. Heck, he makes my life! That tiny little man tests my patience and wears me out and lights my world up and makes me smile like a fool. This love is the stuff of dreams. He was a surprise and a half, but he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. (P.S. - that’s such a cliché because it can be so. damn. true. I hope you’re lucky enough for this to be a cliché in your life.) He was born right on time (hottest part of June), fully cooked, beautiful, and healthy (other than inheriting my non functioning thyroid - sorry buddy). When I’m with him and M is somewhere else, it feels like M is still in the room - they are clones. They have the same skin and eyes and face. I was just the oven. So glad to have cooked this tiny perfect man. We are going to have a blast.