This post is a bit of fun, people. Obviously I wouldn't change my procreating ways for the world. My boys are my world and life is enriched, funnier and more fun because of those bambinos... But sometimes, sometimes I miss the more selfish, carefree pre-kid days I enjoyed and thought you guys might relate too.
I'm admittedly a born worrier which to my surprise seems to be shock other people as several, particularly recently have remarked how chilled, upbeat and positive I am. Glass half full kind of person. Which I am. Yes I am. Bar PMT week but I as with most people are a complex being. You can be the life and soul and still worry incessantly.
Over the last few weeks, several women have asked me what it's like to have kids- and I feel I have a duty to them- and to you guys- to be honest that while raising kids can be blooming life-affirming and wondrous, it can also be incredibly tough: mentally and physically.
Ah...Dad and a little case of 'chicken pox'... Now Papa G, my Dad is very slightly and very wonderfully eccentric and insane. We all love him for it of course. He's constantly inappropriate and embarrassing and since forever has been the reason most of my friends hung out with me-to laugh at Papa G. This is the story of his supposed bout of Chicken Pox.