Welcome to Loudmouth

If you've ever met me, you'll know why this title fits. A background in PR and Event promotion makes it a pretty good moniker for me; I like to spread the word. ...That and I don't take a lot of poop. Perhaps I am known for speaking my mind. And for not bottling pretty much...anything. Perhaps. I mean, this could be a reason for Loudmouth as well. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Welcome to my vent...blog. I meant blog.

A brief history:

My life is one big funny mess after another, and those who follow me on facebook are thoroughly entertained by the weird, 1% odd things that never happen to anyone else that ALWAYS seem to happen to me. For instance, there is a man at the Newcastle, OK Wal-Mart that likes to chase me on his hover round. No really. True story. He's done it twice, attempted a third. And yes, I laughed my ass off. He does not like it when you stay in an aisle he is attempting to go down. Let's say, the hair dye aisle. Mine is down to my shoulder blades. He's bald. I win. Didn't move. Pissed him off. He kept yelling at me to get away. Think he called me a brat, too (which at nearly 40 is terribly flattering). So he chased me out of the aisle saying he was going to hit me. I told him if he did it again, I was gonna sit on his lap and ride through the whole store with him singing annoying songs. He left me alone.

You have to laugh. Because if you don't, everything gets to you. You have to applaud the freak flag and raise your own. Because it's the odd, infrequent stuff that's the best. You have to let it out sometimes, too. Otherwise you implode. Say it. Out loud. Get it in the open, resolve it and move on. It's worked. I've mended all the bumps of my past just by saying the icky uncomfortable stuff, and having others do the same. And I'm better for it.

My Daughter will be heretofor named The Sass Factory. This works. Her moniker REALLY works. She is five, tall, beautiful and HILARIOUS. And not just little kid funny. Her response to my Son trying to tell her the story of Little Red Riding Hood in detail was, "Oh, just make the wolf eat her!!!" She's that kid.

My Son will be heretofor called The Professor.

No, not all my posts will be bitchy/humorous rants. There are real sides to my life, and they will come out. For instance, The Professor. He's seven. He is very serious. He is jaw-dropping smart. And yeah, he's Autistic. Aspergers Syndrome. And no, it's not always easy. And yes, sometimes it is. Hysterical, even. But there are very real parts to this Loudmouth story.

Which is another reason for getting it out. There is another mom out there like me who from time to time is lost and just wants to know someone else feels the same. So I'll get it out for you. When you can't scream because you have to hold it together... I gotcha.

And sometimes you just have to be loud and inappropriate and say crazy stuff because other moms need you to. They have a colic baby, no sleep, have been to the grocery eight times in one day, have a deployed husband, work a job and have two kids, maybe they have three kids under the age of five and a baby on the way. And they need someone to say crude things. Or funny things. Or make horrible observances. Or just tell them you had a bad day, too, and let them feel better about themselves because you're suffering. That works, too.

I write on my secret Mom time. My dreams have been handed over to the far more creative dreams of my children during their waking hours. And in my little space slice, I can be a writing rock star. Hope you all enjoy it.

You don't have to be a big fish, you just have to remember you once had gills.

Welcome to Loudmouth!