First blog post

Here we are!  My first Blog post! 

I wonder what witty thing I am going to say?

Witty… Witty… witty….
Witty things… witty things…. Witty things.
Things that are witty…

You know what?  Let’s not put pressure on ourselves.  Just like you, I never know what I am going to say.  I have a good heart, but this mouth.

Actually…if I’m being totally honest my heart isn’t that great either.  I will say this, it’s tough being a young, hip, ridiculously beautiful, stay at home dad.  Luckily I am married to an incredibly hot Fire Fighter (I know.  Right?), who only mildly annoys me, is my soul mate, very best friend, and tag team partner when in a Battle Royale with “them”.

Sigh. My husband…

Not only is he a Firefighter, but he is also a former Marine.  Hot yeah?
BB August 2011 014

Sure.  Until you wake up to an air horn signaling yet another  “safety drill”, or you get to participate in your BILLIONTH hands on tutorial about how to put garden hoses away properly. Yes Garden Hoses.  Do not even get me started on the number of “Rapid Trauma Assessments” myself and the kids have endured for having the misfortune of stubbing our toe, bumping our heads, etc., in his presence.  While at the park, you will find him constantly scanning the perimeter for potential enemy incursions.  Because you can just never be sure when a Russian invasion might occur, Or you Know… like a pride of lions might wonder into our children’s lives.

I rarely understand a word he says, he speaks only in military or nerd. So I just smile and nod a lot… which actually gets me into more trouble because he thinks I’m “not listening”.  Truthfully, most of the time I am concentrating so hard on appearing interested/ like I am listening, that I forget to ACTUALLY listen.   He truly is the best husband and father you will ever meet in real life.  I have never been loved by, or have loved, anyone like him.

The Cubs:

We have 3 adorable, smart, FUNNY, truly amazing kids who are often complete shits.  They’re kids.  That’s kind of their deal.


Fox & Wagon Photography

Try as we might we were unable to start our family the old fashion way (You know with a bouncy/ sweaty 10 minutes during halftime, or the back of the pick up truck, or whatever. You do you girl.  I don’t judge).  Therefore we have been blessed to grow our family through both Surrogacy and Adoption.


Our oldest Z is so sweet, so funny, so beautiful, and ALL SHADE.  She will brighten up a room just by smiling, she will have you laughing constantly, often against your will and at the worst times.  She has a sharp wit to her though; and I don’t even think she knows how hilarious she is.  She will be a force when she grows into her powers.

Fox & Wagon Photography

Z likes to think she’s the alpha, but her sister W seems to be growing tired of the status quo and has started to challenge that position… to the very death it would seem.


Fox & Wagon Photography

The babies, the twins…. sigh my little loves.


Fox & Wagon Photography

W, is by far the fiercest of the 3.  She is little, she is adorable, she has the sweetest little baby voice,  but make no mistake all of this is a tactic to disarm.  Yes she looks like an angel…. but.  She.  Will.  Cut.  You.


Fox & Wagon Photography

B the “youngest” and only boy… poor guy, he is the smartest kid I have ever met.  He loves facts, and he loves learning.  But it’s his heart that makes you melt.  He is definitely the sensitive one and peacekeeper, he constantly wants snuggles and love, which I am all about.  He will tell you that his most favorite thing in the world is his family.  However…Ugh…the other stuff… the yucky “boy” stuff… I prefer Tony to do all that mess.  Y ou know like cars, spitting, scratching, dirt, the sportsball…. and…. whatever boys do.  (Our daughters are encouraged to do this stuff too, and they do.  Don’t email me.).  I, however, ABHOR dirt and all that goes with it.


Fox & Wagon Photography

Speaking of me, the Matriarch, keeper of hearth and home

(note to self: google “hearth”), Domestic Goddess extraordinaire…
I like to think of myself as the kind of SAHP that has their shit together, color coded calendars, “Kindness charts”, “chore graphs”, our perfectly organized craft room, and my cute urban farm where I grow my own vegetables, churn fresh goat milk into…. I dunno…whatever goat milk churns into.

I also like to think of myself as 30 pounds lighter, 6 inches taller, with a thick head of hair.

Neither are accurate.

I am more like a hot mess version of Cam from Modern Family meets Roseanne.  I rarely know where any of us are supposed to be, but somehow miraculously we get there.  I have only forgotten my kids somewhere once, ok ok ok like 6 times, but in all fairness they were babies and very small.  It’s not like they said “Hey Daddy!  Ummmm…forgetting someone?

When the planets are aligned, and I am actually able to keep my mouth shut, my facial expressions just betray me and get me in trouble anyway.  So why bother?  You know, I just feel that sarcasm and shade are valid forms of affection.  It’s how I hug.  Only my children are spared. Well mostly spared.

When the kids refuse to listen to me (so daily), My Husband’s favorite thing to say to them (sometimes louder than others) is “Daddy is the boss.  He runs the house.”  And EVERY time I have to resist the urge to shoot them an apologetic look, and make a mental note to buy them new bikes.

Despite the chaos, the screaming, the yelling and the fighting I am living the life I always dreamed of, but believed was out of my reach.  I have to admit for every fight, broken Fill in the blank, all the noise, etc., one “I love you Daddy” takes it all away and makes it worth it.

And you know?

I think that even with me as their Mama Bear, everybody might just turn out alright.




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