Therapy please!

After months of contemplating whether or not I should start a blog, here I am. We've all heard the saying that goes along the lines of "those who are scared to dream are just scared of failure" and that has been my reason for debate. Failure. Failure of what?! A small audience? Improper wording? Oh please. It takes me back to my days in elementary school and not being a cool kid. I remember the day I felt about as uncool a penguin in Hawaii.. (wait, Hawaii has penguins up for display in their hotels...so never mind that comparison). I came out of the lunch room eagerly searching for my "crowd" to go sit with in the field and gossip about Darby's high waisted stretchy pants and latest DIY haircut-- eek. Before I could get out to the field, there were my girls standing by the chalk lined brick wall of our school, joined by another girl that wasn't part of our group but knew the girls. The new girl quickly told me that I was no longer allowed to hang out with them and that we would no longer be talking at school, after which they gave me a half forced smile and walked away. I was crushed and for the remainder of the school year I saw them giggle and eat their lunches together and gossip in the field, probably about Darby's latest OOTD. Out of that experience I learned I wasn't cool enough for the "it" crowd at school, but I was quickly and effortlessly embraced by a few girls who were... different. They weren't the cool kids in the sense of having the latest trendy outfit, but they were definitely cool. They were nice and sweet and never made me feel like an outsider. They even gave me a nickname, oh joy! I figured from that point on that I didn't really care what those other cool kids thought of me. I actually enjoyed having a great time and having them glare at me for it-- which fueled my need for pressing people's buttons at an early age-- I found where I belonged and it felt great. Somewhere between high school and a bad haircut, I started feeling the need to fit in again but that's a different story. The point is, I've gone back to my elementary ways in the sense that I don't care if you don't like me or my blog, I don't care if you read it or not. I'm now a mother of two boys under the age of two, one of which is going through his terrible twos for a few months now and the other a beautiful 6 week old who just won't stop spitting up on me, my husband travels for work and we recently moved into a house with stairs. Oh the stairs. So in short, I need therapy. THIS is my therapy. You are welcome to sit in on my session but are just as welcome to leave if you don't like what I have to say. I'm just going to be myself and if you are too cool for me, I'll just have to deal with that. In my blog I'd like to show what goes on behind the scenes of that Instagram picture that most of us are so envious of. I will share my triumphs and failures of everyday, ordinary motherhood. My outfit of the day consists of my fat jeans, a zip up covered in spit up, my husbands Lakers hat and a pair of comfy ol' Privos. My breakfast is not homemade granola at a fancy little joint but rather a yogurt cup in one hand, a baby on my boob in the other while my toddler yells "mama" repeatedly at the top of his lungs and nothing will quiet him until I pick him up. Yup, if this all sounds too familiar then this session is for you as well. I don't care to have a ton of followers, just to keep my sanity amidst this roller coaster ride called motherhood so that I can be the best wife and mama to my family and maybe help someone feel that they are not the only ones out there with only a shred of sanity at the moment.