I have lived in Alabama all my life, but I've traveled a lot, so I know how you other people live. I am a Suuth-un girl by all counts: Southern accent (when needed), big hair (when needed), I love a monogram and I’ll call you ma’am if you don’t watch out. I am actually proud that Forrest Gump was from here. And I feel bad for Yankees because they don’t know what they’re missing. Bless their hearts. It’s a state of mind, not a location and I hope you’ve experienced it.
I am a jack of all trades, but a master of none. I pretend to be domesticated: I like to do crafts that involve whatever is around my house and they normally look like- well- poop. But that's okay because my kids don't have high expectations.
The things I do best are laugh and eat. Oh, and I’m a decent cook- which leads to my accomplishments in the eating arena.
My husband (Jason) and I have 2 boys: Ollie, 4 and Henry, 2- (not their real names) and we are expecting another baby in late July 2010.
I love chocolate-not the dark kind that’s good for you- the “milk” variety. And I prefer it to come in pretty wrappers (some call them candy bars) and paired with peanut butter.
I am officially allergic to chocolate AND peanut butter.
I am a crier and I get it honestly from my mom. She cries at every Andy Griffith Show- especially if Opey learned a hard lesson. And I grew up within very close proximity to a television, so please excuse the countless TV references. I'm particularly fond of 80s sitcoms.
My kitchen sink is usually full, my baseboards are filthy, I dust with wet wipes and you have to step around the laundry piles to get to my guest bathroom (I’ll hide them in the dryer, though, if you come over). But our home is full of laughter and God. And you don’t have to clean those up.
I try to please God in all that I think, say and do (and write), but always come up short. That’s because I’m human and I’m pretty sure God gets that. I think that the journey is about the constant attempts to get closer to Him. So I’m blogging about the journey: my attempts at being a child of God, a mother, a woman, a wife and enjoying this season with 2 young boys.
My grandmother always told me to keep a diary and I never did, so this is my attempt to make up for lost time. Pull up a chair feel free to flip through my diary pages. I won’t mind. But if you are a crier, too, or you laugh too hard, just dab your face with a wet wipe. You’ll perk right back up.
But why The Other Mama?
Photo credit: Candace Sanderson
