Have you seen my snark?

I used to be funny. I mean, really funny. I'm kinda sad for you that you don't really know just how funny I was. I was your go to girl for a good laugh. I could find a joke in anything. But then 2010 came. And that bitch stole my snark. It crushed my soul and ripped out my funny bone. It laughed at me and mocked my loss. I hate 2010.

But now it's a new year. I am beginning to get back to me. I am starting to feel more like me. But I'm still missing much of the humor that made me who I was. I find myself to be more introspective now. I think about things more than I used to. Thinking things over will crush the onset of snark. Being snarky requires a quick wit. There's no time to think. Thinking ruins it. But here I am.

I think (there I go) that being bed ridden for much of 2010 gave me too much time to learn to think. Ugh. No wonder I avoided it for so long! I sat. I thought. I stewed things over. I processed that my life as well as my baby's life could have been lost. That I could have missed my boys' lives. That I may have missed the chance to get old with my husband. That we might not have ever met this beautiful baby that has brought us so much joy. Yes. I thought and thought. And now I can't stop.

To make matters worse, I am coming across all these amazing blogs full of snarky moms! They write hilarious stories about their kids or their husbands that have me in stitches. My kids do funny stuff. My husband is one of the funniest guys I know. So what's wrong here? What's wrong is that now instead of wanting to turn these funny bits of my life into a snarky blog for all of you to read and love, I stare in awe of my family. I listen to my 4yr old add "with a booty" to the end of every sentance and I melt with grattitude that I am alive and present to hear it. My husband will make some dirty inapropriate joke at just the right time and I just stare at him like I'm the luckiest girl in the world. My 14yr old....well, that's enough fodder to keep me up to my eyeballs in snarky anti-teen blogs for years. But I am just so glad he's my good boy. And the baby. OH THE BABY! He'll take a 12 wiper (parents know what I'm talking about) and I will praise him and thank him. THANK HIM! FOR POOP! But once you've almost lost a baby it's hard not to be grateful- even for poop.

Little by little the snark will return. I promise you, my dear readers, that the Queen will return to her snarky throne. I just need some time to sit and admire my subjects for a while.