We interrupt this story to bring you.... life.

Lately, I've had a lot of stress in my life, and nowhere to vent it to. With me, stress is like a pressurized vessel. You can keep heating it and heating it, and the pressure keeps building and building- but eventually its' going to blow. And when that happens, it's not pretty.

I've vented some recently to a friend, but I can't talk to her on a daily basis, and it's not fair for all of our conversations to be:
Her: Hey, K, what's up? How are-
Me: OH MY GOD MY HEAD IS GOING TO EXPLODE DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE KIDS DID YESTERDAY? AND THEN THE DOG PEED ON THE BED AGAIN AND I WAS OUT OF SHEETS AND THEN.....

Her patience is golden, but it only lasts so long. It's a non-renewable resource I don't want to tap out.

She made a suggestion though. "You need to find a way to get this out on a daily basis. didn't you used to keep a journal?" I did, back in high school. My journal was a spiral bound notebook of teenage angst, unrequieted love, and bad poetry.

I am not
Made of Stone
No matter what
The masses think.
I hurt
I bleed
I weep at night.

Move over, Sylvia Plath.

The e-age gave me an online journal that I kept for several years... and I have to admit, it helped. When bad things happened, it was a place to pour it all out. When good things happened, it was a place to celebrate. I left that journal a year ago to leave some people behind. A good move... but I realized after talking to my friend, that I missed the cathartic nature of pouring it all out to the universe.

So here I am. I started this blog some time ago to document the insane life I lead with my family, but I never could find the time to update it the way I wanted to. Now I realize that it's more a matter of necessity to sanity. That could make a good band name. Maybe I should re-take up the spoons.

ANYWAY (look at the kitty!). This is the story of my life. I'm Kh, sometimes known as Silent K, sometimes known as Mom, Mama, Hey you, Honey, Princess, and even That Bitch. I'm a 32 year old mom of two crazy boys. My oldest is 9- about to turn 10 this month. Don't get me started on how fast a decade flew by. He's the Dashman, Big D, or My Bear. He's brilliant, beautiful, kind, and funny. His teachers describe him as the student every teacher dreams of having. He loves to read, and his latest passion is fantasy books. He's a math whiz. he has what is pretty close to a photographic memory. He's never met a kid that doesn't become his friend. He's popular in that "everyman" kind of way, and his birthday party invitation list is a mix of kids from every social segment. Dash plays football and baseball and understands the games more than most adult makes do. He doesn't watch morning cartoons- he watches SportsCenter and Mike and Mike in the morning. He's got blond hair, blue-green hazel eyes (they change depending on what he's wearing and his moods) with dark lashes that make even the 14 year old across the street sigh a little. He's completely oblivious to the fact that he's beautiful, and the fact that he carries my heart around in his messenger bag all day.

My youngest is 4, and the polar opposite of dash in many ways. The Z Monkey is dark where his brother is fair, is loud where his brother is quiet, and dives into everything headfirst, where Dash is more likely to test the waters slowly. Zack has a killer sense of humor, is passionate, headstrong, and vibrant. He loves sports, and plays soccer and t-ball. He requests that his wavy brown hair be spiked, faux hawked, or otherwise styled each morning. He loves the Imagination Movers and wants to grow up to be Mover Dave. He rode his first roller coaster (REAL roller coaster) this past summer, having just turned 4. The Monkey is hell on wheels, but he has a heart of gold, and is the first one to ask if you're okay if you get hurt. Z has speech issues, and goes to a special preschool four days a week to help develop his speech. He works hard, though he balks at home. He also sees an occupational therapist weekly to help with sensory issues. through it all, his sense of self and sense of humor shine through. Sometimes I have to close my eyes and count to ten, but I'm always rewarded for my patience.

I've been married to The Flake for twelve years. We met doing collegiate theatre, and it was the closest thing to love at first sight I can imagine. We ignored everyone and married less than a year later- four days after my 20th birthday. Flake is the most amazing man I know. He's a phenomenal father... every child should have a father as passionate, involved, and caring as my children are blessed to have. He's worked his way up in his company from a part time vacation person (we're talking bottom of the ladder.. maybe not even on the ladder) to becoming a National Director. he's determined, he's a leader, he's incredibly intellegent, he's hilarious.... and quite frankly, he's hot :) You should see the boy in a suit. He's also battling not one, but two diseases that he was diagnosed with this summer: Polycystic Kidney Disease (PKD) and possibly Crohns. I admire him more than I can say.

And me? I'm just a part time retail trainer, full time mom/chef/chauffer/life coach/secretary/nurse/vet/jungle gym, who also happens to be a semi-professional photographer. I'm a team mom, a friend, a daughter, a sister, and at times a conniving little bitch.

This is our story. Excuse me while I go get the shaving cream off of the Monkey's head.