I do realize most (if not all) of you followed me here from my former blogging home, but just in case I have new readers stumbling around; Hi, you can call me Rory! It’s not my real name, but a recycled pseudonym I still feel very attached to. So instead of coming up with a random new one, I decided to dig this one out of the trash. If you are one of the lucky bastards that does know my real name, I would very much appreciate it if you respected my privacy on here.
I’m a 25-year-old former military brat and married to a marine-gone-firefighter/paramedic who’s also a former military brat. Let’s call him Max. We’ve been together since 2005, married since 2012 and will be celebrating both our 9th and 2nd anniversary this year. You know, just for kicks.
Together we parent four children, two of which I gave birth to (at the same time) and two of which I did not. Because my life is filled with irony, the only kids that look even remotely like both Max and myself are the ones that aren’t biologically ours. The Twins are 15 months old, The Girl is 4 and The Boy is 7. People frequently assume that I am the babysitter or that I simply don’t understand how condoms work. I’m cool with that.
As for this blog, it’ll be nothing more than a glorified online journal. I mostly write about life, love and everything that comes with it, but would never in a million years call myself a writer. I’m a journaler, and always will be. Because Max frequently comes home from work with some fantastic stories, he might drop a post here and there as well.
If you followed me here, please drop me a line in the comments to let me know you’re here!