So many adventures. So few times.

My photo
My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Those Summer Nights

When the dragonflies are swooping over the diamond and the kiddies smell like dirt and sunblock and cloyingly sweet popsicles...
That is the most magical time of the year.



Monday, July 27, 2020

COVID Chronicles- May

I’ve been planning to keep a running photo documentation of the shitshow that has been the young adult-to-middle-aged-to-twilight season-months of 2020.

These are those images.




































COVID Chronicles - April

I’ve been planning to keep a running photo documentation of the shitshow that has been the young adult-to-middle-aged-to-twilight season-months of 2020.

These are those images.






















COVID Chronicles - March

I’ve been planning to keep a running photo documentation of the shitshow that has been the young adult-to-middle-aged-to-twilight season-months of 2020.

These are those images.


















Deep Thoughts Ep. 1

There are few things I truly hate in life.

Resealable bags inside of resealable bags is definitely one of them.




Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Out


I don’t want to be locked up. I don’t want to be distant.

I want to connect and be connected to. I want to explore and create and discover and flourish. 

Today is hard. It’s cold and windy but it’s sunny and we want out of our house arrest to find our world and our people once again. 


Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Eff the Balance on a Spin Bike

Here we are, halfway through week two of my state’s movement to help stop the spread of the coronavirus. It’s March 25th and Covid-19 has gripped and ripped across our globe. Where does this snarky, anxious, busy stay-at-home(ish) mom stand in all of it? How has my faith in humanity and laws and friendships and real life, day-to-day needs slipped or solidified?

You guys. I have no effing idea. My sarcasm is stronger than ever. I’m still silly and impulsive and if you could see me now as I type this you would die: I’m BLEACHING my hair platinum while on my spin bike in my bedroom, wearing slippers (and not even socks), undies and a robe thrown over my arm so it doesn’t catch. Don’t believe me? Here’s a hint of thigh and my robe-balancing arm. 



I’m anxious. I’m so anxious. I’m hardly sleeping at night and instead lay next to my husband, listening to him breath and replaying our evening conversations about his business and the country and our family. I think about my mom and aunts and my medical professional friends’ physical and mental well-being in all of this. My brain struggles to wrap around my kids’ future and if their school year will end at my kitchen table or at a building a few miles down the road surrounded by their friends and classroom crushes and teachers who care about them almost as much as I do. I wake up only a few hours later fully charged, brain pumping in 87 directions once again.

And I’m trying so damned hard to put on a brave face for those short humans, but I also think it might be healthy for them to see me nervous to an extent, to know that we don’t have all the answers either but we love them fiercely regardless. 

I’m trying to celebrate little milestones and big ones with them. Sit and read with them. Go on adventures on our property to find remnants of bones and maybe have them even help me paint their bathroom (yet to be determined). I want to give them freedom and childhood and joy and also be honest and educate them to know that a lot of shit is a giant question mark right now. I want to help them find balance but I also want to say, “Eff the balance!” and let them hide in the recently-constructed giant blanket fort that takes up the back third of my living room while they giggle to each other and play Minecraft on their iPads.

And so I’m bleaching my hair and toning it platinum and I guess if I really mess up I’ll condition the crap out of it and start again in a few days or I’ll just shave my head because really, who cares?! I’ll love my husband and my babies fiercely and protect them from the world while simultaneously showing them it’s a beautiful, magical place with so many secret corners yet to be discovered. I’ll ache for my girlfriends and our “They are SO loud!” boozy lunches and I’ll ache for my family in Washington state and worry for their well-being. 

I guess I’ll keep riding this bike without pants. What the hell else can I do?!