Game on.

Here I am.

Seated comfortably, tea in hand, surrounded by books, secure in the knowledge that my child is in good hands and having fun.

I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

Now.

2012 was the craziest year of my life. Action packed, for sure. Ripe with challenge, most definitely. Reverently exhausting.

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I have a confession.

I started another blog. It was called ‘Misconceptions’. It consisted of one post, posted on May 31, 2010:

Mother Fucker. Only a masochist has a miscarriage on Mother’s Day.

That’s right, folks. I wrote the world’s shortest blog. And, yes, that masochist was me. I had a miscarriage on Mother’s day. And a few others before that, but who’s counting?

Not me.

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What next?

I’ve been grappling with the idea of this blog for a VERY long time.

It’s true. There is much here that I do not like. It feels forced at times and, in a way, self-censored.

For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to be a writer. Yet the terror I feel at the prospect of others reading my work is stifling. (And it’s time to let this go.)

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Stumped.

Clearly this blog requires a new name.

Maybe I should name it after a pet? No! Even better – a dead pet. Now that would be poetic! Right?

Or not.

Okay, so maybe after my kid?

Nope. WAY too cheesy. Not to mention unoriginal.

‘Operation Domestication’ (the previous name, recently disowned) was a wee bit misleading. I don’t actually want to be domesticated. What I want is to be me. Whatever that looks like in any given moment. Unfiltered. Unscripted. The good. The bad. The ugly. Occasionally domestic, but mostly un-wifey and un-motherly in the traditional sense of these words.

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