So here it is...my first
blog post. I feel as if perhaps there is a little too much pressure to make
this both hilarious and insightful...with just a taste of rueful "I've
been there" and a sprinkling of "oh no she didn't just say that!"
It is more than a little bit daunting not only committing your thoughts to the
eternal internet plain...but also allowing others to read and ultimately judge
them. While I am being honest, despite the title of the blog...there are no
training bras yet in my house. My blogging research told me to choose a name it
could "grow with" which I took literally and while I am currently
trying to convince my nine year old that training bras are a distant future
decoration...I am equally convinced that that time will come sooner than I would
like to admit. There is however a moderate collection of tricycles and an
abundance of tutus.... more than enough to make up for the current lack of
aforementioned unmentionables.
I suppose I should first introduce
myself. I am Blue, a thirty-something mommy of 4 girls. My house is a sea of pink;
it’s a reality of living in an all girls home. Our daughters are 9 (Bookworm),
4 (Sunshine), 2 (Stormy) and 6months (Apple). My husband I will call Cowboy
since that is what he recently designated himself in my cell phone. We live in
a small town, in a rented home, with various critters including our horses. I
will be honest, I am not entirely sure the direction this blog will take. Will
it be a witty take on life with girls? Or an honest look at parenting little ladies
in a crazy world? A way to vent about the difficulties in being a mom in the
technological age? I have no idea. For now it will be my thoughts, run out on
the page...read it or not.
So back to the tutus. All
of my girls love to dress up. My oldest is sadly outgrowing this pastime more
and more, but the "middles" as we affectionately refer to them, are
fully entrenched in the make believe world on a regular basis throughout the
day. My 2 year old (who I am referring to as "Stormy"...a fairly
accurate description as I am sure you will agree over time) takes this to
another level and insists on wearing some denomination of frilly
"skirt" over every single outfit that she wears. Overalls, jeans,
leggings, pajamas.... if it isn't a dress (and sometimes even if it is!) it
will soon be adorned with a tutu. She is very passionate about her tutus. She
also screeches like a banshee and talks like a six year old...but I digress...
My 4 year old I am calling
Sunshine for the purpose of this blog...and when she is happy she is all sorts
of sun. Her whole face lights up. When she is not...well the sun may as well
have exploded in some sort of horrible supernova that left the world in
darkness. If Sunshine happy lights up the world...then Sunshine upset throws
the entire universe into shade. She is a sweet, silly, passionate little person
who loves her sisters with the same fervor that she intentionally annoys
them.
My eldest daughter is the
stereotypical "older sister," too much like me to be ignored and
fully entrenched in perceived pre-preteen angst. I don't even know if nine is
considered a "tween"...what is a "tween"? It seems like its
a new stage we have added...I don't remember ever been a "tween." I
have dubbed her the Bookworm for good reason. Just like her mother she goes
through books like she is breathing them...not so much reading but inhaling
them page-by-page. Whenever she has a free moment her nose is buried in a book
without exception. She is very helpful with her little sisters for the most
part, patience peppered only occasionally with uncontrolled rage and the kind
of annoyance that only an older sister can muster.
Lastly is my little baby
girl...the "Apple" of her sisters' eyes and the littlest of the clan
at only 6 months old. She is the final installment of Family Blue so I have
held onto every second of her baby-ness the way only a mother on her last baby
can. She is a mostly happy, tiny little ball of joy. At less than 13 pounds her
petite little frame is constantly packed around by various family members, and
she is blissfully happy as long as someone is paying attention to her. She
doesn't actually ever sleep for more than 3 hours at a time but hey...no one
has ever died from sleep deprivation...right?
My husband, Cowboy, may not
be mentioned much in this blog...I haven't decided. He is definitely integral
to our family unit and invaluable in the running of our crazy feminine filled
household...but he is also not a fan of blogs. Only time will tell.
So there you have it...you
have "met" my crazy brood and embarked on this blogging journey with
me. Every day with these girls is one part crazy, one part aggravating and one
part amazing so I hope to share a little bit of it all with you.
