I promise not to turn into a Mommy blog, but this happened and it was kind of intense, so I’m going to tell you about it.

So, as those of you who have both read my last few posts and can do basic math may have realized – I had a kid.  And I survived.

Jill of All Trades

“One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important.”
~ Bertrand Russell

For most of my childhood, I thought that when I grew up I wanted to be a spy.  I have no idea why I clung to this for so long. (We’re talking years here.)  I would have been an awful spy.  I walk like an elephant (so I’ve been told).  I’m pretty sure I would tell you anything you wanted to know if I were subjected to torture.  Or even if you just brought a big dog into the room.  In movie scenes when someone is rifling through the desk drawer of someone else who has just stepped out of the room, I become extremely anxious and have to cover my eyes.  It really wouldn’t have been a good “fit.”