The end of an era.
A post on my experience, having a traumatic birth.
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'...