Hey, I am Jill. The other half of this crazy duo that brings forth the truth and honesty
about being a mom. The stuff they DON’T tell you in the hospital. The things
your “friends” keep from you as secretly laugh behind your back as you bring home your
new bundle of joy. And my little guy is just that…a bundle.
Cubbie is 7 months old and he amazes his dad, John and I on a daily basis. Mostly, it’s good stuff though sometimes he has caused us to raise our eyebrows, give each other the ole side eye and rumble in a very quiet voice, “oh please Lord, let this be normal 7 month old behavior”
as I curse the hospital for not sending us home with some sort of manual for this little
human.
As for Rosie and I, we met what feels like a million years ago (ok 2 years…2 years?
That’s it? Really?) and instantly bonded over our dreams of becoming rockstar mothers
and, ummm, dirty bananas. What? Drinking and bonding over our lofty goals of
motherhood don’t mix? Well, let me tell ya, in our world (aka Crazytown), it is not only
recommended, it is a downright necessity.
Since we met, the four (now 6) of us have been pretty much on the same path in life. I
got knocked up a month after Rosie and text messages immediately started going back
and forth at all hours of the day and night. You know, when those pesky pregnancy
hormones just streak through the veins (yeah, that’s it) and the text gets sent asking “will
you bail me out if I murder my husband because he is driving me bat sh*t crazy”? Yeah,
those texts only solidified our bond that much more. Now our midnight or 3am (there’s
apparently no clock in Crazytown) text messages revolve around those little creatures
that seem to run our houses so much more efficiently than we ever dreamed possible.
Control? It’s over-rated right??
Anyway, welcome to Momville. Crazytown, if you will. Enjoy the ride, won’t you?
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