For those taking offense to my care and coddling of Lochlan, my refusal to write about Ben under siege, my inside joke with the boys that I am one wife to a dozen men and hell, even the color of my toothbrush, well I just have two words.
Hahaha, no not those ones. I already said those ones and clearly you didn't listen.
Don't read.
I don't know what else I can say.
I don't do current events so well, I despise politics and I'm not going to mommy-blog unless I'm absolutely bursting over something and really I don't have enough talents to pull off a gardening/cooking/home decorating Marth Stewart blog but I have my boys and my words.
That's what I know.
Since I was eight years old these boys, as a collective, have been the center of my universe. They're men now but they are still MY boys because they were boys once, in the beginning anyway.
So that's what I write about.
Some come and go. Some die and some live. Some love and some fight. Some drink and some heal. Some create and some destroy. There are other journals you can read. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
