Born in Logan, UT in a hospital that no longer exists (my dad did retrieve a brick for me during demolition). It’s somewhere in the basement. Spent my formative years naked, dirty, sassy, hanging out with the LDS community, who didn’t have a clue what to do with me (more on that in the future for no extra charge). Picture a girl in hot pink, ahead of her time, cursing, walking amongst the Amish everyday and wondering why the heck everyone is staring at her. Ate A LOT of Frosted Flakes with half and half. Inhaled a lot of secondhand smoke and other secondhand smoke. Bounced to California. Dealt with acne and mean girls. Found Jesus. Found UCLA. Found a husband. Found myself a mother. Thrice.
This blog is a tool I use to connect with others while I experience life as an oft-isolated homemaker in the 21st century. It’s where I share my photography and hone my writing and debate skills. It’s where I share my successes and failures as I try to lead a considered life.
I am a liar and a hypocrite (and at times really shallow).
Who might enjoy this blog:
Vegans who occasionally eat at In-N-Out, runners who hate running, people willing to breastfeed a five year-old, people who hate glitter, people that love information in chart form, people who have spanked in anger, people handy with a sewing needle, people who liquify greens and make their kids drink it, all Juice-Plus+ reps, a good number of Dr. Laura listeners, anyone who knew Seezaar the cat well enough to hate him, parents offended by Disney princesses even though they own some gear, procrastinators, vacilators, people who slam on the brakes when they see free furniture on the sidewalk, everyone debating whether or not they’re done adding to the population, parents who opted out of the government’s vaccination plan, a significant amount of fair-goers and country dwellers, homeschoolers, a handful of graphic designers, anyone fighting media addictions, Dave Eggers fans
Who might not enjoy this blog:
Anyone informed about the world solely by T.V. news
*A word about comments. Birth especially, can be an emotional button-pushing topic. Be nice, yo!