Something To Say?

What’s in a name?  Will Shakespeare asked this very question a few years back in a little thingy called Romeo and Juliet. He also said that we can call a rose any dang thing we want—a door-knob, a dirty diaper, you name it—and that delicate little plant with thorns and petals will still smell pretty dang great (I’m paraphrasing, of course).

 

Dude’s got a point.

 

So I suppose I could have named this blog, Thoughts of a Middle-age Mother or even Fifty Shades of Breastmilk. (Think I’m kidding? Think again. I marathon nursed for the better part of two decades and even worked as a breastfeeding counselor and lactation specialist.) But I chose Momma Got a Thought: Random Musings of a Sometimes-Coherent Parent because even though I’m an over-scheduled, multi-tasking Momma to nine of the most amazing people to ever walk this planet, Grandma to two darling boys, and hold down a full-time job as a bakery manager, I’m also a woman with something to say.

 

The Sometimes-Coherent part speaks for itself.

 

I’ve been at this Momma gig for the better part of three decades now. And throughout Momma-hood, I’ve lived many’a life—stay-at-home mom, work-from-home mom, part-time worker, full-time worker, homeschooler, public-schooler, night-schooler, breastfeeder, bottle-feeder, cat, dog, and bird feeder, single mom, step-mom, den-mother, and almost always, exhausted mother (again, referring to the Sometimes-Coherent thing). And throughout it all, I’ve always considered myself a writer (sometimes of books, but often just of text messages and grocery lists).

 

Chances are, I can say, “been-there, done that” to just about every aspect of Momma-hood. Am I an expert? Nope. Survivor? Sounds a little harsh for something that has brought me (along with tremendous trials), the most joy one can feel in this life (Disneyland, Colin Firth and dark chocolate included). And, well, I’m still at it. Four of my nine are legally adults and have moved out of the house (two have graduated from college, two are eagle scouts, two are married, and two have tattoos). But I am still nose-deep in parenthood. My husband Paco and I have five “minors” living amongst us, ranging from 11 to 17, and they keep us spinning in circles (need I make the Sometimes-Coherent reference again?).

 

Do I have something to say?

 

I’ll let you be the judge.


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