Testing, testing... is this thing on?
In an unlikely turn of events, blogging has managed to seduce me back to her quirky world of open letters, hodgepodge tutorials, GIFs, and house tours that make you want to set your furniture on fire for the chance to buy something more Pinterest-board worthy. (Oh, just me?) Instead of running away as a sane person probably should, I found myself flocking to her temptation like that girl unable to resist a Saturday-morning trip to the donut shop. What can I say? I love a good apple fritter.
Recently Roached, like my pre-stretchmark self, is still a whisper of the past.
This little space now has a new name, because I am not who I was when I began this documenting adventure in our 400-square-foot apartment so long ago. I am no longer a newlywed, learning the nuances of sharing a bed with (gasp!) a boy or attempting dinner for (gasp!) a hungry boy. Though "she burned meals" and "he stole the cubbies" will probably be intricately carved on our headstones when we're pushing up daisies, I wanted the chance to begin anew. A fresh page for our bustlin' and ever hustlin' family of three. Plus, my buggy last name is already part of our Wifi name (Roach Motel), so I feel fairly certain I've fully covered all of my insect obligations for this lifetime.
We are a nest full of many things. A nest full of laughter. Chipotle bowls. Sticky floors. DIY attempts. Unfolded laundry. Panera runs. Grace upon grace upon grace. Baby giggles. Naps. Netflix binges. Meal planning and meal burning. Aggressive cuddling. And an hourly need for Jesus.
I don't pretend to know a lot. And I won't pretend to say anything that hasn't already been said by every other mommy blogger on the stratosphere. But maybe, in my own fart-joke, slap-yo-mamma kind of way, I can make you laugh as you read about our journey through parenting our red-headed wild child, home ownership, marriage, and every frozen pizza in between. So stick around, and I promise to blog as infrequently as I darn well please.
I was all, "Babe, can you take pictures of me?"
And he was all, "Only if you do that melodramatic half-smirk thing."
Happy to oblige.