Well I will tell you. It is what your smartypants 3-year old son calls you in response to you calling him the more appropriate and well-recognized version- a maniac. As in,
Me: "Gavin give me my keys, you can not start the car today, its pouring rain, get in your carseat" (as I chase him around the car in circles in the pouring rain with a baby on my hip). "Stop acting crazy" (he's now in the middle of the thankfully not-busy street taunting me with my keys and he splashes in puddles in his school outfit) "Come on, knock it off- stop acting like a maniac!"
Gavin: (All of a sudden he stops dead in his tracks, and looks me straight in the eye, with a devilish smirk) "Oh yeah?" He dares me. "Well you're a MOMIAC!" And he throws my keys at me, and dutifully gets in his carseat.
I could not properly respond because it is SO fitting. Three kids later, and I do believe Momiac is a very fitting description. This blog has been a long time coming. I need a space longer than the character-limited status updates on Facebook to rant and rave about my daily adventures. Do I have time for a blog, what with 100 internship hours left to complete, a thesis to write, a house to build, a business to help run, and a household to maintain? HELL NO. But I'm gonna do it anyway, because thats how I roll.
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