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How’d I wind up here?! (pt. 4)

Wow. Who knew I could talk about myself for this long? If you’ve made it this far, Congratulations! You are patient, determined, and most likely have a bottomless beverage and well trained bladder.

We’re on the home stretch now. You’ve read about how even as a kid I messed around with trying to improve products, about the Bathtub Epiphany, and about the dangers of browsing the internet while bored. Now it’s time for the really important question.

What up with tea?

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How’d I wind up here?! (pt. 3)

The story continues with a cautionary tale about boredom and browsing the internet.

No…not THAT kind of internet browsing! Sheesh.

It’s been several years since the great Bathtub Epiphany. Life has gone on, kids have grown, and I now somehow find myself a homeschooling mother to kids ranging from upper elementary to high school. The super intensive, kid on the hip, no privacy ever years have turned into the ‘is your schoolwork done?’, multiple activity, taxi driver years.  I am simultaneously busier than ever and bored. Yup, bored. Turns out you do a LOT of waiting around at this stage of life. Waiting for the homework to be done. Waiting for  _insert activity here_  to end. Waiting for them to get done with work. Lots and lots of waiting.

So what does a mom with an internet connection and large quantities of waiting time on her hands do?

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How’d I wind up here?! (pt. 2)

Otherwise known as “The Bathtub Epiphany”.

Yup. It deserves capitals.

Let’s set the scene. I’m now a sleep deprived mom of young kids who hasn’t used the toilet or taken a shower alone in years. My decorating style is early fisher price, and my clothing is chosen based on what will best withstand the various bodily fluids deposited on it by runny noses and leaky diapers. In other words, I’m a tired, sloppy, often cranky, hot mess.

One night,

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How’d I wind up here?! (pt. 1)

Ever ask yourself that? I have. Oh, not because I’m unhappy with where I am. Quite to the contrary, I’m loving every minute of it. (ok…not every minute. Bathing the dogs after they roll in something disgusting isn’t high on my list of great moments. Neither is dusting.) But I have had to wonder just how I wound up here, because it’s the first question

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