Sometimes I feel like a boxer backing into the ropes amidst a flurry of punches. On my good days, I can slip to the side and counter, unleashing my own blinding combinations. Other days I do well to just cover up. However, even on my worst days there’s no way I’d step out of the ring. My fun, fantastic and fulfilling life is so much better than one sitting ringside.
So by now I’ve completely worn out the metaphor. You’ll have to forgive me, though. I have a “jobby” managing professional boxers. It’s a jobby because although I work it like a job, the money is much more like a hobby. I love it though. There’s nothing quite like the thrill of hearing your boxer’s ring music, walking him to the ring, and then watching him beat his opponent into submission. I admit, it’s not what most people would have guessed this former “captain of the cheerleaders” would end up doing. Or maybe it is.
When I’m not arguing with promoters or trying to keep my boxers on the right path, I’m your normal, average, stay-at-home mom. I’m married to the sexiest attorney/artist in the entire world who is just bi-polar enough (or perhaps just medicated enough) to make life interesting. The Man and I have two shorties. The Boy is on the high functioning end of the autistic spectrum, and is generous enough to share his completely unique world view with us. As for The Girl, it’s like God said, “The Woman’s life is going to be a bit crazy, so let’s give her a really easy, absolutely angelic daughter.” Or at least that’s what I thought before The Girl started to hit puberty . . .
I hope you enjoy reading. And if you think you recognize yourself, I love you and please don’t be offended. Mwuah!!!