A Terrible Introduction

So let's get down to business.

My name is Amy Terror and I have three Terr(or)ific little children, Phoenix, Coraline and Holden, who strive to make my days brighter (apparently they think my living room walls look better in a soft crayola yellow) and more meaningful (hell, you think a lot more about why you are put on this earth while scrubbing shit stains out of a carpet).

Phoenix is six and just started school this past year. She is my mini-me, my helper and my angel. Which is a double-edged sword. Because she is me. Flaws and all. And I gotta love her, but I imagine playing a board game with her in a few years is gonna be a bit like The Hunger Games. And that bitch is going down.

Coraline is four and she is a handful. She is so sweet, loves animals and is caring and generous. But sometimes, when the mood strikes her, she gets this devilish twinkle and she just loses all sense of right and wrong. I have not yet decided whether she just has savant like abilities with pushing buttons, or if we need to call the Priest and get some Holy Water.

Holden is my baby. He's two and he's my widdle momma's boy. No woman is ever gonna be able to make him as happy as I do. He seduces all of the ladies on the playground with his big, blue, crooner eyes and his chubby cheeks. But sometimes he just likes to be a princess and put on his big sisters' dresses. And shoes. And sings the songs from Barbie Princess Charm School. If I haven't ruined him for women, I'm damned sure the girls have.

My husband, Jude, is a hard working man. He both webmasters a Comic Book website and works for an internet company, which essentially gives him the excuse to be on the computer all the time. All the time. ALL THE TIME. I'm fairly certain that when he falls asleep, all of the internet users within a 100 mile radius lose their wireless internet signals until he regains consciousness. He makes me laugh about a billion times a day and some of the situations (which I will probably not....ok, maybe...detail here) cause hilarity to ensue.

I am a Stay at Home Mom, which basically means I piss with the door open, get routinely woken up at night so frequently that my kids could teach the fellas who run Guantanamo Bay a thing or two, and I keep a pretty hectic schedule of chauffeuring children, being a peace ambassador (hey kid, she totally had that Barbie first) and being the designated recipient of all of the bodily fluids that my children have loosed upon the world (I could totally drink pee if we had to do a Waterworld-esque scenario, I am seriously unfazed).

I am finally getting to the point where my kids are old enough for me to breathe and I am starting to figure out how to be me again. And I have been trying to branch off from them a bit and try to think about my likes. So far, all I got is hot bubble baths, thoughts of having somewhere to wear high heels to again and run-on sentences. Apparently, I love the fuck out of some run-on sentences.

So I'm starting this blog, both to document the utter ridiculousocity (totally a word now) that is my life, and to figure out where to go next. Look out world. Amy Terror has started blogging.

And I hope it makes you laugh, cry, perhaps vomit in your mouth a bit. But mostly I just hope that whoever reads this (you depraved person you!) gets some sense of enjoyment.

Well, enjoy!

Yours truly, until two minutes from now when my kids/husband need my attention

Amy Terror