Official kid wrangler of four. Step mom, adoptive mom & bio mom. Girl-next-door meets sniper-ninja-motocross architect. City girl turned country bumpkin. Career girl turned stay-at-home mom with baby on hip. Permanent taxi-cab driver, schedule organizer and professional laundress. (When not chasing kids…) Mommy blogger, columnist, travel writer and consultant. And no, I don’t sleep. And yes, I take Prozac. And drink wine from sippy cups.
“Mommy, why don’t you and daddy live together anymore?”
“Marnie, I miss my mom, can you take me to her house?”
“Mommy – I need to go Poop RIGHT NOW” (as we are driving down the interstate).
“Where are my books – I need them for school,” (of course they are at her mom’s house which is 30 minutes away).
“Mommy, did I used to be in your tummy?” (yes, my son was adopted).
“My mommy lets me eat brownies for breakfast…” (really, well your mean step-mom doesn’t)!
“Mommy, Baby J just fell down the stairs…”
“Mommy, why are you hiding under the table with a bottle?”