Confession...I type one handed...sometimes

I've been stewing in my favorite most used chair - the rocker - trying to figure out how to begin.  I am rocking my worlds greatest sleeping restless, curious kiddo back to sleep mid-nap.  So it hit me in a moment of inspiration desperation to start as not just me, but genuinely me.  My journey as a mom has been an adventure of love and creativity. I would love to say I am  a blogger who has it all put together...wrong.  I want to be all the things I aspire to be, but reality smacks me in the face.

My husband D laughed at my blogger name...yep he's the I've got your back supportive type.  He got his hand stamped at the gate so he is aboard for my journey as I try to be and do everything that I deem important--he even gets to help clean up the messes.  I truly want to do all the things I hear about that will make our lives better, except raise chickens, sorry D. We have a little dog, Tony, who daydreams of being a hunter.  You should hear his menacing growl when he captures a kill tomato from the safari pocket urban-esque backyard.  (Tangents are fun)

So yes, I have had to wake up from my dream world and become the compromising mother, which works well since i am sarcastic a realist at heart, although the curiosity got the cat (my sister's fav saying for me growing up) side of me tries to squelsh (did I mention my love of making up words in my list of interests in my profile) the realist in hopes of the daydreamer reigning victorious. So here I sit typing one handed in my organized home office rocker with 14 month old Mr. B in my left arm, laptop in appropriate location sans shift and f4 key and the six key  looking precarious...thanks again Mr. B. Here's a pic of my office place where I do my thinking.

Love,
Tracy

 It's actually a corner office with a window.