I’m not a rookie. I have raised 3 babies so far. I consider myself somewhat of a pro if you can ever truly be that as a parent. But, looking back at pictures of Marina from a few months ago, I can’t believe I let her get so skinny. Her scrawny legs and arms are so obviously wrong to me now, but then we joked about how she had bird legs. Of course, all my babies were tiny. I don’t make giant turkeys. But I don’t know how me back then thought she was fine when I was allowing my baby to basically starve to death.

Oh, I know what it was. It was sleep. Glorious sleep.

Ok, first, let me preface this entire post with the fact that I am not basing anything that I write with pure facts. This is all based on my life, Facebook rants, and what I’ve heard from people in the housing industry.

If you live in Florida, you might have said this yourself in the past year or so: “How are people going to afford to live here?” Our housing market has been absolutely insane since 2020. COVID caused an avalanche of people from out of state to move to our area. Sure, folks move to Florida all the time. But it’s been crazy the amount of people that have flocked to this state since COVID. And I think there are two reasons for this:

On October 19th, my husband Vince had a vasectomy. Despite this being a personal event, I of course shared this with flourish on my Facebook page. For a few reasons:

1. It’s real life. Men get this done and don’t let others know about it. It’s a secret surgery for most. Why stigmatize or hide it? Just because you are now shooting blanks, that doesn’t make you any less of a man.

2. Vince doesn’t care that I shared it. He likes to “bust my balls” about it, but in truth, he loves the attention. He is, after all, an attention whore. And I say that with all the love.

3. It’s funny. Anything pertaining to balls is. Sorry. I may be over 40 and some might see this as vulgar and immature, but sometimes I’m vulgar and immature. I’m not for everyone and that’s ok.

I am wrapping up a blog post right now that talks about the status of mine and Vince‘s sex life, post-vasectomy. You know, typical things people share online to family and strangers alike. Anyways, as I was writing it, I had the thought in the back of my mind that my kids and some of their friends might read it. Of course, this wouldn’t be the first TMI post I’ve shared. See here. But when I wrote about our sex life back then, I didn’t really think my kids would be reading it until they were older. Like 20s. However, I’ve learned that they do read what I write. Not all of it and not right away, but it happens.

I don’t see why there was such a big backlash against the song “Baby It’s Cold Outside.” How stations banned the song from the radio because a few people complained that it was promoting date rape. The thing with songs, like any art form, is that they are open for interpretation. And those interpretations are usually based on a person’s experience. When I hear the song, I just think she’s arguing with him, but that chick really doesn’t want to leave. She’s making him work for it and he’s being a stud by warming up her icy hands and complimenting her lips.

Hell, I wouldn’t want to leave. I’d put up with a lot to stay warm.

I go back to work in less than a month. This thought is somewhat frightening to me. Thank all of them – Buddha, Jesus, the Great Mother, the Positive Energy Source, etc – that I work from home. I feel so intensely for those mommas that have to leave their babies. Yes, the break is nice. The feeling that you are part human, not 100% mom, has to be luxurious.

But you leave your baby – most often with a stranger – and that pulls at my heart too much to even contemplate day care or a nanny right now.