I’ve been thinking about this a lot, since I’m currently baking a very small bun in my (by comparison and dates) very large oven. I wake up at night – to pee, because Pumpkin Pickle (aka Baby 1) needs me to flip him over because he has wedged himself up against the edge of his crib and can’t wake up enough to do it himself, or just because I am gestating and there is no rhyme or reason to my sleep – thinking, “Is Daisy too cutesy? Too Fitzgerald? Too Disney? Too 2001: A Space Odyssey”? I move on to, “It’s got to be Anna” which morphs into “This baby is going to be a boy and we used up our one good (albeit boring) name.” Names are tough, darnitall.
So this blog. And it’s name. It’s an old nickname, given by an old (as in long time ago, not as in geriatric) boyfriend. Sarky is short for sarcastic. And Tartlet is a play on “tart” which he used to mean a cross between a sweetie pie and a saucy minx. Yeah. Something like that. Be glad I haven’t named the blog after his other nickname for me. Trust me on this one.
What the name doesn’t tell you is what’s going to be in here. I’m thinking I’m going to cover the typical stuff, recipes, reflections, stuff I think is cool, complaints, comments, mommyhood, working mom-ness, me-ness, and angry rants. Okay, probably not that last one. I’m not a very angry person. And perhaps I’ll throw some other stuff up here too, just to keep things interesting.
And as an aside… I was just searching for some boring clip art to make all this text a little more palatable and found a photo of a woman I went to college with. Weird. Really weird.