This is not my first blog post. Contrary to appearances, this is probably somewhere in the five-hundreds of blog posts that I have made. I don’t remember when I first began blogging but it was a long time ago, when nobody knew what a blog was and skinny jeans did not exist.
That was a long, long time ago.
However, for novelty’s sake, let’s say that this is my first blog post. I would probably be trying to dazzle you with my wit and my originality, to coax you to subscribe and not miss a single moment of my unique take on life.
Yeah. Not gonna do that.
I have started this blog because I cannot seem to NOT blog. I have a desire, and a will, and a strange need to blog, so here I am. If you want to read, I welcome you. If you want to spread the news that a wacky woman with thirteen children and a bipolar diagnosis is writing about her life, then go for it. If you want to inundate me with questions about how I do it all, refrain.
I don’t do it all.
Whatever “it all” is. I don’t do it. I categorically avoid it.
My life is strange. That is the truth. I deal with sticky substances and sticky issues all day long. If you’re looking for advice, move along. I don’t give much. I can’t remember how I survived having six children all under the age of ten. I can’t remember what I did with the little ones while I was trying to homeschool the older ones. I seem to remember quite a bit of yelling. And crying.
Yelling and crying are not what most people would categorize as excellent parenting tactics, but here we are. I have thirteen children and I think they are all eternally fascinating, abundantly creative and fantastically gifted people. They are interesting, and constantly evolving. I like them a lot.
My diagnosis of bipolar worked like a lightning bolt of revelation in the middle of my life; I had known for decades that something was desperately wrong but didn’t know what to call it. Dealing with the aftershocks of untreated mental illness after years of ignoring it and burying it will be talked about here. It might get raw.
So there you go. This is me. Thanks for reading. If you stick around I will be grateful, although I will try to act cool about it.