My mama told me I should start a blog

         "They say happiness is the folly of fools 

pity poor me: one of the fools..."*

My mama told me I should start a blog. She claims it's because my life is funny, and funny lives are great for blogs, but I think it might be because a blog might be easier to navigate than Facebook, and then I might spam Facebook less. So, I'm making a blog, because my mama told me so. And I shall start blogging where every good day should begin. No, not inside a can of Monster Absolute Zero, although that's a close second; On My Soapbox.

I've noticed a trend that's been growing since I can remember. It's an infuriating trend to me because it's not one that's mocked into oblivion over time like fishnet undershirts or romantic mix-tapes; it's one that has grown and ballooned and spread and festered until it's a dark cloudy monster of irritating despair over my life. The trend of which I speak is negativity. Life-is-miserable, unending-sarcasm-rocks, if-I'm-breathing-I'm-complaining, by-the-way-you-should-be-miserable-too NEGATIVITY. It mocks happy people and turns them into undesirable stereotypes; it tells us that happy people must be hiding something; it tells us that happy people are "creepy." It tells us that a good life can't possibly be, and anyone who says otherwise is a lying liar who lies and only wants to make you more miserable by telling you that your life isn't good enough while skillfully hiding dancing skeletons in top hats in their many closets, or a fool.

WRONG.

Positivity is, and has been for the last few years, the ultimate goal of my existence. I embrace positive parenting methods; I am, perhaps at times, unrealistically optimistic; I will everything and everyone around me to find and be grateful for the happy things in their lives; and I drive people CRAZY! I know I do. But gosh darnit if I have to be a creepy fool one way or another, I'd rather be a happy creeper, so I'm going to keep fighting my peppy way through my Pollyanna life- because it IS a Pollyanna life. I'm not saying my life is perfect, or that I'm a perfect parent or that I have a perfect marriage- what I AM saying is that I have learned by my experiments and experiences in choosing happy for the last few years that I can choose to be happy in the most miserable of circumstances. Don't get me wrong- happiness isn't my personality. I can easily slip into self-depricating, self-pitying, sullen and doleful puddles of misery if I let my nature take over. It takes a lot of energy to choose happiness, but I am blessed to be able to do so and I will take advantage of that blessing every day for the rest of my life.

The above was both your introduction to Only Fools Are Positive, and a disclaimer. This is going to be a happy blog. A positive, optimistic, Pollyanna-world blog full of obnoxiously warm fuzzies and silliness, so if candy-coated cotton-candy clouds aren't what you're looking for on any given day, pass me by. I promise you'll be disappointed. That's all you'll find here.

Another set of introductions is in order. Here are the faces of the regular-to-be denizens of this blog:

Damien

Damien is a ninja transformer badguy-fighter barbarian. He's four years old, at the time of this post, but will quickly interject that he will be five very, very soon, if I don't say it myself. And he doesn't type well, so I said it for him.

Lyric

Lyric is a year and a half old, and she is the Queen of the World and All the Drama Therein. She's also a fashionista and a non-hydraulic excavator.

Me

My name is Holly. I'm 27, which Damien would tell you if I didn't. Things you might not know about me that I will almost definitely touch upon in this blog and will therefore mention now so as not to take you by surprise: I married and divorced a very abusive man. I've recovered from addiction to several illegal substances. I've had a lot of abdominal surgeries. And now I believe I've broken the ice sufficiently.

The Love of My Life

It's hard to find a picture of him without at least one of the kids. He's an awesome daddy, and an awesome partner. He's also freakishly strong and Damien will tell you that he's stinky but that's a product of being The Incredible Hulk, I'm told. His name is Kyle.

One more thing you should know is that we belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. We are a happy family, and we are Mormons. We sing about Popcorn Popping on fruit trees and we go to church for approximately one million hours per week, and while this blog is not specifically a religious blog, much of my happiness comes from following and studying the doctrines of our religion, so I will probably refer to it from time to time.

That's it for now. We'll see where this can go. Happy Reading. :)

*"Happiness" by Leslie Bricusse, from Scrooge