You oughta start a blog

Yeah?  you think so?  'cause I'm pretty sure you're gonna regret that particular request.  unless by convincing me to post my rantings HERE you think it's gonna free up some of your newsfeed.  don't count on it.  i'm gonna be verbose no matter WHERE i am.  on the newsfeed, i'm limited to 420 character, and i'm guessing you're going to find out that i'm a lot funnier in short doses than in long ones. but *shrug* here we are.
today is the day before i celebrate my entrance into motherhood.  13(gah!  really?!?! gees!) years ago my oldest kiddo was born.  she flung me headlong into a world of weird that i don't think i'll ever creep out of. but it's ok, really.  i kinda like it here and everyone understands me.  or at least, they nod their heads sympathetically while taking discrete steps back in the hope that i don't get any of my crazy cooties on them. either way, it works for me.
yeah, 13 years.  yeah, i'm only 31.  yeah, i don't look old enough to have a teenage daughter.  i know.  that's because i'm NOT old enough to have a teenage daughter.  i started stupid-young. i was sure that i was going to be different from all the other knocked up teenagers.  and he was going to love me forever.  and we were going to make it through all the hard times and come out stronger for them.  and our love would be enough to see us through. and. and. and. yeah.  in the real world, there ARE people who marry their high school sweetheart and stay married forever, but in all likelihood, YOU ARE NOT ONE. so don't think you're gonna beat the odds.  it's just not a risk worth taking. for the record, he-who-made-me-a-mother, is one of my best friends.  i turn to him for a shoulder and a hanky and a whipping boy when i need to, and he does the same for me.  we're GREAT at being friends, we just really stunk at being married.
well, now that i've rambled unintelligibly for a while, a brief introduction is in order, before i have to dash off to be a motherslavedaughtergrandaughterfieldhandfarmhandcookcheesemakerandfriend.
i have 3 fantastic kiddos.  i'm married to a very patient man of few words (no one is sure if that's his choice, or if i just don't give him the opportunity to get his words out).  i live in my dream house (it's almost 100 years old and even though he hates it, the quiet one bought it for me, because it made me happy) on a little farm next to my family's farm.   we raise children, goats, grass, cows, chickens and lots of cane (that was a funny. go with me on it) i'm never still, but i'm kinda lazy.  my house is ALWAYS chaotic, and it will never ever ever look like a magazine.  until someone starts a magazine that shows things like baby chicks in wooden cow planters in the dining room, last night's dinner dishes in the sink, 5 pairs of muck boots on the back stoop and 3 days worth of laundry piled on the couch that might be red, but no one is sure, 'cause the upholstery hasn't been seen in 2 months. all my sentences are run-ons because i'm afraid that if i stop to take a breath (or even for emphasis) someone will interrupt me and i'll never get to finish. i also change subjects rapidl..holy crap!  it's after 10!  i have to take a shower and pick up the fairypunk from school to celebrate her birthday!