We're not in Kansas anymore Toto...

Sitting around the lunch table at school, I have oft been amused by the more seasoned teachers accounts of embarrassment at the hands of their small children. I have laughed heartily at my own mother's grocery story woes in which I, Girl, doe-eyed and innocent....asked the older woman in line behind us if she was a witch. These were tales of those who could not control their children, those who hadn't read every parenting book from cover to cover, those who had not Googled every situation and scenario an anklebiter could throw at you.

Fast forward to present day and you find Girl at a local grocery store after a long day of molding the minds of America. After securing Pink in the store's capable childcare center, Tink and I shoot off to get the five things on the list and get the heck outta Dodge. Here we are, mother and child, a Rockwellian scene...sharing a few laughs and a few stolen kisses. Life is good; I have mastered this mothering thing and am at the peak of my career. People stop and stare in awe at such a fine example of parenting expertise.

Enter one" little person" in a large green sweater. Tink catches his eye and locks him into a death stare. Beads of sweat form on my forehead as I know Tink has no verbal filter yet and, unlike her sister, never fails to say what she's thinking.

"Momma! Momma!", she says, pointing wildly at this little man.

Knowing we are headed for disaster I do the only thing I can think of...push the cart as fast as I can away from him. With blonde hair flying, Tink and I take refuge in the deli and I breathe a sigh of relief that he is out of earshot. I take my number and am waiting my turn when he rounds the corner. Tink's head whips around and it's a Deli Faceoff.

With a thick Italian accent, our little friend orders a pound of prosciutto and Tink can take no more.

Standing in the cart now, both arms waving she yells, "Momma wook at dat wittle gween guy! Wook at dat wittle guy!"

Never in her life has she seen such a sight, and she stands in that cart waving and blowing kisses like she is sitting atop a float in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

The man, clearly used to this behavior, gives her a wink and walks away while I start spouting off about all of us being created in God's image. Tink, not buying into my religious crap, waves at him one more time exuberantly.

I can hear a sigh from the crowd now as I enter the hallowed halls of "parenting shame", where my mother and colleagues are there to greet me with open arms.

Next stop: Wine and Spirits. This kind of day is why the Box O' Wine was invented. Thank you Jesus!

Cast...In Order of Appearance

Every good movie has well-developed main characters and an excellent supporting cast. My life is no exception....

The supporting characters in my life are:

Pinkalicious- My five year old daughter who is desperately unhappy unless covered head to toe in pink frothiness. She is the epitome of a girly-girl and sports a tiara as a reminder to the rest of us that she is indeed, a princess. Pink often fakes her own death for attention and was fairly devastated when her younger sister was born. Did I fail to mention that she is the love of my life?

Tinkerbell- She is the three year old currently running my life. A blonde-headed sprite of a thing, Tink will kick you in the shins and steal your lunch money just as quickly as she will profess her undying love for humanity. Tink couldn't give two hoots about rules or regulations...she eats, sleeps and wrecks the joint with wild abandon. My life is better because of her.

Boy- This is the guy I was waiting for. 7 years my senior, he is blue and white collar mixed to perfection. He tells it to you straight and is loyal to a fault. Our first date was of the wine-guzzling clothes-shredding variety and I knew that I had met my match. Boy takes care of his body, his family and the girls and myself religiously. His wild past will provide endless opportunities for entertaining the blogosphere.

And then there's me...Girl...

In love with 2 little ladies and 1 fine Boy. Never in a bazillion years imagined myself a divorced, single mother. The last two years have taken me on a wild ride of emotions, in and out of love...struggling to find my place in the world as well as leave a positive footprint on it. I finally feel, for the first time in 33 years that i am right where I was meant to be.

MommyTeacherGirlfriendBlogger...At Last!

So, I finally felt it time to give this blogging thing a fair crack. There are a multitude of reasons for this which I've so neatly detailed below:

• I need therapy and, aside from baring my soul to one stranger, baring it to many is the next best thing.
• I am a single mom of 2 awesome little ladies (and by "awesome" I mean "crazy")
• My boyfriend is smokin' hot with a wild history...I am desperately trying to get him to allow me to write his life story.
  
• Being a sixth grade teacher I have seen and smelled things that mere mortals can only imagine. The flaws in public education are mind boggling.
  

But mostly I find myself commenting aloud numerous times a day..."My life is nuts." Maybe a little more nuts than the average human being, maybe not, but certainly relatable to those who wonder often, "How the hell did I end up here?"

Here I am...hold on...