About

Once upon a time the lady who wrote this blog fell in love with a boy, married him and had his children, in exactly some order. Together they raise Mary, Matthew and Scarlett; three seriously dope little kids from 12 – 2. She likes writing about them in run-on sentences.

It was a 1st time conversation that lasted until six in the morning of a Saturday in 2007 that changed everything. The kind of first kiss that decides upon futures chased after them a few anxious weeks later, at which point they decided together that waiting for anything ever again just wasn’t for them. Wrapping up the back end of that same incredible year, the heartbeat of an embryo she knew she’d call Matthew since about the 4th grade, popped into their lives. Matthew is exponentially more wonderful and badly behaved than she ever could have thought possible in 4th grade. He looks a lot like her dad – which never ceases to be unexpectedly hilarious; usually smells like peanut-butter; lives to find her dandelions; and will always, always send her reeling back in time to the spring of her second year in college, when falling in love with his dad was a tangible, terrifying part of every move she made.

For that, he is her second best friend, forever. And by forever she means, yes, even after he realizes she’s definitely not. She has a back-up though; a husband who re-promises everyday to think she’s foxy even after she ages to look like her grandma. She believes him, mostly because her grandma is very pretty and also because her husband is frustratingly honest.

Their Old New Castle wedding was planned in four quiet months, in par with the way they do just about everything of any importance: breathlessly, bravely, and with all of their idiot hearts. At their wedding, she got pretty drunk and danced a lot with this kid – who, by so much more than proxy, became her daughter. Being a step-mom is one of those epic favorites in life she never imagined she’d LOVE SO MUCH until someone dared her to try it, ranking among such life-altering experiences as eggnog flavored coffee and really rare steak.

Because life back then was a little too easy and teetering on the cusp of becoming moderately stable, Spencer wanted them to have another girl, and so they did, and she was Scarlett. It took exactly eight months to think of the name Rebecca to go with it, and in the end, Spencer still wishes his wife would have let them name her Scarlett Margaret, for some stupid reason. She has this airy, one-of-a-kind voice that it might be worth mentioning wields magical powers of manipulation. Scarlett can quite literally do no wrong, try as she might. It’s really unfair to the other two, but even they love her a little too much to care yet. She hops when she’s in the process of getting what she wants, kisses people with both hands planted romantically on their cheek, and cannot smile without utilizing every muscle in her lean, little face.

~

Our kids like to push the boundaries of what love will endure, and when we get fed up with them or when we’re just joking around or sometimes for no good reason at all, we sometimes refer to them in secret as Little B Words – joking that the B of course, stands for Babies, which is true. They are our babies, our little b words, and this is the story of what it’s like to raise them.

Advertisements

One thought on “About

  1. Love to read what and how you write. You are raw and honest and flow-y (no not a word, but an artsy way of saying I love your run-on sentences). I read this to my husband and we laughed and related. Your blog is an untapped secret of wonder, but I have no doubt, you perhaps like me, write for you and those little b’s. Fun to share your journey. I look forward to more:) jennifer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s