INTRO: pillows and phobias

Hi there. Sarah here.  A little background for the millions of strangers that will no doubt be captivated by my amazing life and addicted to pouring over my every word…

I love ellipses. Dot dot dot. (I also enjoy parenthesis.) I love decorative throw pillows, and I have a particular way I like them arranged, the maintenance of which is a full-time job, thanks to my husband, Dooley, our two small children, Dirt and Tuesday, and our three dogs, Dodie, Tigger, and Bruce. The cat smushes them but doesn’t mess with my arrangement too much (thank you for your consideration, Captain Hotdog, though I am still mad at you for peeing on the red ruffled one). The horses, Diesel and Mouse, respectfully keep their distance in their pen in the backyard, but I’m sure they would totally ruin my pillow display if given the chance.

We are a loud, messy family. I have memories of being a tidy, organized person but that has been slowly eroded away since meeting Dooley. Now I cling to organizing trifles like decorative pillows. The rest of our house, or at least the unseen bits of our house (i.e. drawers and closets), is a nightmare of epic proportions. Hello Hoarders. Most people have one junk drawer. I don’t have one organized drawer. Or closet. I also recall having a brain, but that, like my tidiness, has slowly evaporated since having kids.

I hate flies. With fire. They make me seriously crazy. SERIOUSLY. Like I stand in the middle of a room wielding the fly swatter with crazy eyes, waiting for one of the little bastards to land so I can destroy it. I only mention this cuz there is a giant one tempting fate by buzzing loudly all around me at this very moment.

I am a stay at home mom and daycare provider. I may or may not still be a waitress. I never ever ever ever ever ever EVER foresaw my involvement in any of these occupations. (Because I never really liked kids or people in general, duh.) I don’t really know just HOW I envisioned my life when I was younger, but some nonsensical guidance counselors encouraged me to get a fine art degree, so here I am. 

And it’s not at all that I’m not happy. Just crazy. I came across a website of phobias (phobialist.com) the other day and discovered that Lyssophobia is “a pathological fear of going insane”, hence the name of this blog. You will understand why if you have kids, or have ever met one. I also found these fun little nuggets, which I thought would make good names too (especially the last one):

Bogyphobia – fear of bogeys or the bogyman

Chronophobia—fear of time

Decideophobia—fear of making decisions

Geniophobia—fear of chins

Genuphobia—fear of knees

Kopophobia—fear of fatique

Mottephobia—fear of moths

Zemmiphobia—fear of the great mole rat


So...for the dialoging... How has your personality changed since being married or having kids? What idiosyncrasies have you held on to?