Monday, November 1, 2010

The Introduction

I suppose I better tell you a little bit about me and what this blog will mostly be about.  The basics, my name is Karen.  I'm 31 years old.  I'm engaged to be married to the most wonderful (and patient) man on the planet next July.  Eric and I have been together for a smidge over three years, and I will be the future stepmother to the Big Man, age 6, and the Little Man, age 4.  Eric and I have the kids (hereafter referred to as the dudes) full time.  About two and a half months ago or so, after 16 years in the workforce, I quit my job in order to become a stay-at-home mom.  I was juggling a lot with 40 hours a week, plus being a full-time university student and a full-time mom to the dudes.  Eric works 40 to 50 hours a week, sometimes more, at two jobs, plus he's an amazing dad.  Something had to give.  I'm still adjusting to the change.

This blog will be about LOADS of things.  My head never stays in one place for long.  There will be loads of stuff about my opinions on motherhood, I'm sure, along with quite a few stories from my past (I've got some good ones), and I'm sure quite a bit about fashion, which is my number one hobby.  My PASSION, however, is school.  I'm a junior at Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis.  I'm a political science major.  I have a 4.0 GPA, and I'm not slowing down.  I freak out if I get a B, seriously, and beg for extra credit to make sure I don't lose my GPA.  The blog will likely have loads of school freak abouts.

That seems a good segue.  About a year ago, I was in a history class, and there was this guy.  He just wouldn't shut up.  Class after class after class, in the middle of lecture, at least a dozen times a class, he'd raise his hand to ask a question.  The question always began with "Isn't it true that.....?" and always ended with him trying to display some sort of knowledge that the professor hadn't bestowed upon us or the opposite of what our professor had just said.  He didn't really want his questions answered, he was showing off.  He wanted affirmation that he was right and the professor was wrong, or that he was smarter than the rest of us.  I like need to stay on schedule.  This, it was taking time out of my scheduled class time.  He was injecting information that was not going to be on my exams.  I am NOT okay with that.  As it was, I yelled at him.  In the middle of class.  And then I cried in front of everyone.  A psychologist was suggested.  A few weeks later, I walked out of the office with a shiny new diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome/high-functioning autism.

Thirty years of my life began to make sense.

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