I am here.

Yep. My life is boring some days, crazy some days and not exactly how I pictured it. Who knew I'd have four children? Not me. And I love it. My life is full. There are dirty diapers, scrapes, bruises and messes like you wouldn't believe. There are also dogpiles with me on the bottom, hugs, kisses and so much laughter. I'm not sure I'm winning the war I've been having with the pile of laundry. My hands are dry from doing sinks full of dishes. Yet somehow, I am happy. At least I think I am. One thing I have learned through having a family is that it's not about me. It's about us. I am happy when they are happy. Really. I've wondered at times if in all the craziness of motherhood I've lost sight of me in there somewhere. Not really. I am here. Somewhere between the mom, wife, friend & such there is just me. The girl who used to walk Yonge street from Finch to the harbourfront. Who danced at Depeche Mode concerts & cried when she found out that Serena & James were going out again. My rollerskates became rollerblades. I found Vern. I had children. I grew up. (That's a bit debatable some days, I'm told.) But it's still me.