If you call me Bridget I will likely respond nervously as this triggers memories of being in trouble as a child. If you go as far as to add the middle name and call out a Bridget Kathleen I will most likely need a Xanax as I prepare for punishment.
I am married to my husband, Darin, who I met while he was playing for the Minnesota Twins. Yep, my husband was a professional baseball player and yes you will probably hear references to that time of life if you read this blog.
I have a 3+ year old daughter, Sloane, who is, hmmmm.. how do I say this politely… a handful? I don’t know why I am ever shocked by this as she is the by product of my husband and I. Both extremely calm, level headed, quiet, introverted people (sarcasm font). You’ll hear a lot about Sloane whom I love with all my heart, but don’t necessarily like all the time.
I am pregnant with a boy who is due to make his debut this spring. You will hear about this a lot as pregnancy has pretty much made life with a toddler hard as fuck. Oh I’ll get that out of the way too, I swear. A lot. The words come out of my fingers onto the keyboards as naturally as they come out of my mouth. I recently read that psychologists say you should be friends with people that swear, so you’re welcome bitches.
I work at Covered, a local women’s boutique, and have been a part of that family for over 10 years. It is in my blood (and tatted on my wrist) and a huge part of who I am. You will hear about Covered, and the three-legged-stool often. Fuck that might be the only reason you are here.