I know, I know -- I just created a new blog not that long ago. Guess what happened? I switched offices at work and lost all my passwords, etc. How lame is that? SO HERE WE GO AGAIN.
(I don't have internet at home, so that is why this is a perfectly acceptable excuse.)

Anyway, to kick it off, here is a letter to my unborn daughter that I wrote yesterday that I thought would make a great first post on here to tell you guys just a little bit about me:

Dear Unborn Daughter I,
[that's supposed to be read as "unborn daughter the first". I thought it sounded funny and explained things a little better down the road, should I possess more munchkins.]

First off: what the mess are you doing down there?? It felt like fiery hell in a big ball in the middle of my stomach, and now you're stretching out excessively.Why.

Secondly: If you ever have a [healthy and not-self-harming] addiction someday -- a passion, a hobby -- that consumes all you are inside, whether you get to partake and act on that passion or not, I just want you to know that I, your mother, completely understand what that is and what you're going through. You should know (in case you haven't already figured it out yet) that your mother isn't just horse-crazy -- she is certifiably horse-insane. (No, your father did not really know to what extent before he signed the line and agreed "until death do us part." Mwahahaha.)
(Yes, your grandparents are still hoping it's "just a phase." Psh.)
Examples of conduct: Your dad comes home from work to find all of Fimbrook (my miniature model horse collection) lined up on any and all flat surfaces in the house.
There are two different bookshelves devoted to certain kinds of horse books (and I ran out of room on both shelves on Day One of moving in).
Any sketch book I have I am still adding (only) ponies.
I'm plotting how on earth I can be with horses in any way before (and after) you get here -- but the Pregnant Police (aka, your dad, uncles, and grandparents) are doing all in their power to prevent me.
And THANK. GOD. the 2016 Rio Olympics are this year so I have plenty of updating and research on all things equestrian to keep me busy while you're growing. Although I should note here it is putting some pretty unattainable headlines and stars in my eyes:

Young equestrian takes blind first horse to Tokyo!

Even Laura Graves and Diddy had a better shot than I do.

I really hope you do (and your dad does, too, secretly -- don't let him fool you; plus we'd rather have you addicted to something so expensive as the sport of ponies so that you have no money for crack), but if you don't happen to share my major passion for all things equine, I promise to try not to be hurt or take it personally. 

(Yeah right, I take EVERYTHING personally.)

And I promise I will be understanding of your passions as well as supportive as I can be.

...Don't make me regret that statement.

Love, Mummy

PS: This really goes for all my kids.

PSS: No, we're not British. But I liked the idea of signing it "love mummy." I called my mom "mummy" for the longest time having spent my toddler years in England while my dad flew airplanes for the US Navy over there. Pretty cool, if you ask me.

PSSS: Ok, last one -- I swear. But looky what I found! It's my blog from like three years ago! I forgot it existed until a few moments ago. (It would appear that my brother's somehow got ahold of it to play with graphics... oi.) Have fun 'sploring! ^.^ (I certainly did. haha)