Peek into my wonderfully crazy world from my snarky perspective. If you have kids, you can probably relate. If you don’t, heed my warning. Don’t. (Just kidding! I love my kids … I love my kids…)
It’s Not a Blueberry | Spring 2017
Bath time is a fun time they say. A time for parents to bond with their children over lukewarm pee-water and bubbles. The baby splashes, the parent laughs. It’s a great time… However, a lot can go wrong in a confined space with naked babies. Isabella was almost two, at this point we were still bathing the girls separately because they were too
vicious young to bathe together. Isabella was splashing, giggling, splashing some more, and singing. All of a sudden she looks up and hands me a blueberry that had fallen in the tub. As any mother would do, I instantly put out my hand to grab the blueberry. At this point we both came to the same realization, IT WAS NOT A BLUEBERRY. Chaos ensues. Isabella screams as more faux-blueberries bubble to the surface of the water. I’m screaming trying to wipe the sh*t off my hands. Sofia begins screaming because everyone else is. Bath time was officially over, but never more needed. As my mother used to say, “It’s all fun and games until someone sh*ts in the bathtub.”
My Children *Inspire* Me | Summer 2017
So what you may ask inspires me? What inspires me to create a unique and crafty shelf or entirely re-do a table top? My children constantly inspire me. However, it’s not my unconditional love for them (although I do love them, I swear) or their beautiful dirt-creased faces that continue to inspire my newest rustic creations. When I look at my house (sometimes I squint so it’s not so painful to look at) and then I look at them (usually leaving a trail of spilled milk and cheerios) I think to myself, “What can’t they reach?” And that my friends is where I draw my inspiration for my next project. I think my style has slowly evolved to one of minimalism. Minimal decor, de-cluttered shelves, purging furniture. But it’s not out of my high sense of fashion, but out of sheer necessity and damage control. No more books displayed, no pictures on shelves (lower than 3 feet or within climbing range), and definitely no more candles. Thanks kids.
One Time We Went to the County Fair One Time | Summer 2017
As a country kid growing up the local county fair was THE event. It was our annual, week-long, hot and dusty celebration of everything good and country. Tractor pulls, horse shows, animal barns, questionably stable amusement park rides, and food that you’ll remember for the next week (and not because it was so good). So this year my girls are 2.5 and I thought, this is the year. They’re ready. They love animals, they love rides, and they love fries. I’m going to share my childhood love for the fair with my daughters. Pass down the country legacy to my city kids. What could go wrong? Well, apparently a lot. Even though the bag was packed with gummies, chewy bars, and ice-cold water it wasn’t enough. I should clarify, 50% of my kids had a great time. A very long two hours later I not-so-gracefully carried my wild child, kicking, biting, and screaming out of the fair (similar to how one might carry a hog-tied pig). If you were there then you might have confused her for one of the animals, but alas, she is only a tiny human with big anger-management issues. You also might have seen the tantrum getting into the car. That was also mine. In hindsight, it might be better to keep my childhood treasures to myself for a little longer.
Boop! | Winter 2017
Couples with kids rarely have time to connect on deeper level (if you get what I’m laying down). The girls have a keen radar for detecting when we are sharing an embrace. Their motto seems to be, “if there’s room for two there’s room for four.” They prefer to be sandwiched between us. So we improvise to remind present selves of our former selves before babypocalypse. My husband and I will often exchange a quick hug, kiss on the cheek, or gentle butt squeeze if we’re feeling frisky. One afternoon I was folding laundry when I felt taught poke on my backside. Quite a bit lower and harder than my husband’s normal flirtatious gestures. I quickly turned to slap his hand when I see little Isabella with her pointer finger out quietly laughing to herself saying, “boop!” I guess it’s time we start discussing appropriately places to “boop” people.
When You Know You’re Winning at Parenting | Winter 2018
HBO recently released ALL of the Harry Potter movies on their app. Hallelujah! As any good parent would do, I decided to start them early on the series. (Since they have a very short attention span the large novels won’t do for story time yet). After a week of passing illness around our house we pretty much went through most of the series (I didn’t show them the later/darker films. They seemed to like them, but I wasn’t quite sure. Then one morning Sofia comes zooming around the corner with a broomstick between her legs yelling “Look mama, I’m flying!” I don’t think I’ve been more proud as a parent. It was in that moment I knew they’d turn out OK and I was winning at this parenting thing.