The “Laundry List” of what makes me.. Me!
I may add to this as needed.
I was born and raised in Michigan.
I currently live in Illinois.
I have 4 boys, ages 22, 13, 8, and 6, the oldest of whom lives with his father in Michigan.
I was one month shy of my 19th birthday when I had my oldest.
I was one month shy of my 35th birthday when I had my youngest.
I, in a very cramped nutshell, basically lost my job while I was on maternity leave with my youngest son after having been there for twelve years (the job, not the maternity leave).
I am absolutely petrified of spiders. And a lot of other bugs (the big, gross ones). And tornado watches.
I love writing, but hate coming up with ideas about which to write.
I take a lot of pictures.
Those pictures? About 90% of them get printed and put into albums (the rest being just some sort of random documentation of something or near duplicates that get filtered out).
They also must get put into the albums in order. Not just by date, but in the order in which they were taken.
I have set up a series of albums for each of the boys that goes up through somewhere between their first and second birthdays, wherein they then get jumbled into family photo albums with the rest of us (unfortunately, back in the day of my oldest, we didn’t have the money to spend on film and/or developing, so he has only one photo album). The album series contains any photograph, no matter how inane, that featured them somewhere in it. Even if they were just plopped/propped somewhere in the background. Oh, and they also have a separate beginner album of their hospital/newborn pictures.
DVD movies need to be alphabetized. And, no, movies that begin with “The” do not get filed under ‘T’. Ever.
I freak out about typos, grammar and punctuation to the point that I will Google it if I don’t know the correct way to do any or all of the above.
That doesn’t mean I will do all of them correctly. I tend to type the way I talk and being grammatically correct all the time? Makes it too formal. This means I can end a sentence in a preposition if I darn well please. Or use incomplete sentences.
I’ve struggled with some sort of undiagnosed depression/anxiety for the majority of my life, which was magnified after the births of my children. Enter PPD.
I’m also in recovery for an undiagnosed eating disorder.
If the above didn’t make it obvious enough, I don’t much care for therapy. Mainly because I try to avoid discussing my “faults” with people as much as possible. They make me feel inadequate enough without giving them a “voice.” I give them written words instead.
And now, with all of that out in the open, I hope you’ll stick around for the bumpy, roller-coaster ride through my crazy life!