Monkey See, Monkey Do

An awesome blogger asked a question today, that pretty much everyone who doesn’t blog asks. Why? And because I am a good little listener, I thought I’d respond with my reasons.

Before this blog (which has always had a clear purpose) I started blogging because I like to write and I miss my family. I felt like by making a blog, they could be closer to me, even though most of them never read it. (Yeah, Dad and Brother, I mean you. Love you anyway.) Then Ross dropped a bomb on me in Wal-Mart and it became a way to release all the psychotic, obsessive drivel that fills my head daily.

One thing Aunt Becky pointed out was that she felt that the real, meaty blogs were dying, while happy-go-lucky, sugar-coated versions of life are popping up more and more. She feels like they aren’t as real, and I disagree.

Now I LOVE Aunt Becky, because she is hilarious and honest and what more could you ask for in a blog? If you read my blog though, you’ll notice most of my posts are light-hearted, because that’s just how I prefer to write. I am not holding anything back, I am not pretending my life is perfect, I just want to remember and focus on the good things in my life. I even mentioned it briefly in this post. Yeah, shit happens, but since I don’t have that great of a sense of humor I’ve had to learn to just let it go, to not focus on it and let it consume my life, because without a sense of humor that is what happens.

So here’s me getting real:

My husband really is AMAZING and I think he’s quite damn sexy, so step off.

I will probably think my child shits roses and pukes butterflies for at least the first year, because I have wanted her more than anything for as long as I can remember, and when you love something THAT much you over look the bad things. Deal with it.

I fart a lot, and as loudly as I can, because I think it is HILARIOUS. So do you, and you know it.

I have a very happy, loving marriage, and I will continue to write about it because it’s the most amazing part of my life. Do I want you to know the amazing things he does? OF COURSE! The shitty stuff? Be honest, you don’t want to know just as much as I don’t want to tell. Everyone makes mistakes and I will NEVER throw him under a bus for the amusement of other. Myself? Go ahead and judge me, because as a “blogger” I am asking for it. 

My husband owns my soul and I don’t care if that makes you gag, because we’ve fought damn hard to get to this point, and I intend to fight harder to stay here.

When I was miserable I could write my ass off, but if I have to trade the one thing I’ve ever been really good at for happiness, then so be it.

My life’s never really been that scandalous. I was anorexic for 6 years, which in turn, led to a lot of emotional issues. I never cared about being skinny, I cared about being in control. I cut myself, I screamed at my parents, I wrote heart-breaking poetry…What teenager didn’t? When I was 18, I ran off with my boyfriend, who I had one spent two weeks physically with, eloped and here I am. My skeletons aren’t hiding, and frankly they aren’t that interesting

Monkey See, Monkey Do

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