“It doesn’t matter where you are, you are nowhere compared to where you can go.”

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...or so it seems, I wore well cut wool suits, authentic cashmere pashminas and Italian silks. Each day I was a fashion plate with a triple shot latte. As a retail business manager, I lead a stellar team and was a killer saleswoman. Working long hours, late night happy hours, my life was a career filled adulthood and I longed for nothing more.

Change sneaks up on you. I met Danny and together we decided to have babies. I wanted to have a family with him. We'd be kick ass parents. It was our opinion that our mothers did us right by staying home with us during our early years, and despite all my ambition, was the low earner on the totem pole, so I became the designated stay at home parent to our babes. I kissed my department store wardrobe goodbye (not very practical and hell, they don't fit postpartum), and said hello to things you can easily launder spit up and poop off of.


No one will ever call me a graceful mother. (Or graceful at all, for that matter.) Stay at home motherhood is daunting. I felt alone. And fat. And hormonal. I was just not me in my own skin. But I don't make commitments lightly and was determined. Every single day, I got up, showered and dressed. I tried my damnedest to be a good stay at home mom knowing the whole time that a finish line was in sight.

I am a fantastic mom to our kids. I know that. But "stay at home mom" is never a hat that fit comfortably on my head. I resented my husband for business trips. At company happy hours I was sure his coworkers made assumptions of me. I used every creative way to say what I did without saying "stay at home mom", including but not limited to the time I recorded my profession as "retired" on a form. (I am truly sorry for that as I am now hounded by the AARP. Seriously. I had to tell them I was going to report them for stalking and to come back in 20 years.)

Somewhere during my tenure as the stay at home parent I decided to change careers. The retail management requirements of worked holidays and weekends don't jive well with family life. Despite not ever feeling comfortable as a stay at home mom, I was very interested in being an active parent to my kiddos. I just needed the adult interaction. I needed validation. I needed recognition and to have goals to work towards. So we decided I'd go back to school when the kids were old enough to go to school.


But what about my blog? My shop? I've sold a variety of things I've made through my shop the five years I've been the stay at home parent, but I like being able to make and sell what I like. Any time I start mass producing something, I quickly grow to hate it. My blog has always been about me. It's my expression. It's where I show off what I make and teach you to make them too, if you want. The 'ads' I post are my friends and shops I respect. The sponsored posts and tours I do are for patterns I'd have bought anyways. My opinion can't be bought. I'm far too mouthy to lie to you all and to be honest, I don't want to shill stuff to you. This it my place and I'm humbled there are so many of you still listening after all these years. Thank you.

Becoming a mother has taken my former self and stretched and confounded and shaken her up until she has settled and grown into this new person. A women with the skills and obstinance from before, but with the mighty roar of a bear. Motherhood tried to break me but I have emerged victorious! I am bigger and better and stronger. I have broken out from my cocoon to stretch my wings.


If you've be around here a while you know I've been taking some classes here and there. Prerequisites for the sonography program I have been accepted into. (Sonongraphy = ultrasounds. Not the people who write down everything that's said in court. That's a stenographer. Think Aquaman, but more badass. Also, it's not just for pregnant ladies. Far from it.) It's going to take me 13.5 months of full time, hard core schooling. From here on out, it's all highlighters and ramen, baby.

This week was the big week. My babies had their first day of pre-K on Monday, and Tuesday was my first day of full time school.

My stay at home motherdom is over. It's gone.

I've been looking forward to this moment for years. I can leave the house without diapers and wipes. I get in and out of the car and don't have two little ones to help. I can walk as fast as I like when I'm late and not have to hustle anyone else up. I'm smart and my peers and professors assume exactly that. No one looks at me and only sees a mom.

So why does it feel so bad in my heart? Why are my eye leaking? Damn my non-robot-ness!

I had the privilege of having dinner with Shalagh last week. We talked about many things, but one of the nuggets she left with me was to look up this poem by Khalil Glbran:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

I am strong enough for myself, but am I a strong enough bow? An ache hollows my heart to know that I must set my arrows to fly, but I know I must. How is it that I've been looking forward to this for so long and now that it's here I feel guilt and fear? Damn you, motherhood. You've done this to me.

And so I embark upon this new chapter of mine. To master a new skill and learn a new trade. To hone myself within motherhood, so that I can be the strong and stable bow. May my aim be true and my arrow fly straight. There's no turning back now.

I'm a Tough Mudder!

On Saturday, October 19th, I did it! I finished the Tough Mudder! You may have read earlier this month about how and why I trained for the Mudder, and I'm happy to report that I have achieved my goal and finished. I promised to share some pictures with you. I apologize for the quality, but they were either from my phone, which was the only camera I brought along, or from spectator photos.


My husband and I before the Mudder

Sliding down a hill during the Mud Mile into a pit of mud

Soaking the caked mud off before the washing machine.

Turns out, you should wear long sleeves when you will be army crawling through mud and gravel at multiple time during the day.

Over 10 miles of mud, ice water, climbing, jumping, electrocution, have helped me to know the ends of my physical capabilities and fears. It was an amazing day with awesome obstacles. It tested my abilities and mental resolve like nothing else. The 30 hours of childbirth I experienced with each of my kiddos wase easier than this. No joke.

Will I do it again? Not likely. I proved what I set out to do, but I'd love to do another obstacle race again. Just a much shorter one.

Did I have fun? Hell, yes. It was very fun. It was awesome to do with with my husband, and with our friends. It gave me a renewed optimism in humanity as complete strangers helped me and everyone else out when they needed it. Training for and completing the Tough Mudder was a humbling and inspiring experience. I may have cried crossing the finish line.


Me in my hard won Orange Headband!

Oh my gosh! I almost completely forgot! I need to give you all a HUGEMONGUS THANK YOU for everyone who donated to my Wounded Warrior Project fund as part of my Tough Mudder run. Together we raised $1,190, which will be matched by my team sponsor, Microsoft, to become $2,380 for the Wounded Warrior Project. Our Microsoft Team was the top fund raiser at the Mid Atlantic Tough Mudder that weekend, raising over $23,000. You guys are so freakin awesome. Many, many thanks.

Tough Mudder

This Saturday I am running the Tough Mudder. If you've don't know what that is, it's a 10 to 12 mile endurance challenge with obstacles designed by the British Special Forces that include ice water, tons of mud, log carries, wall climbs, fire and electrocution. This is no cute Mud Run. This is not the Spartan. It's the mothereffing Mudder. If you think I've lost my mind, you are probably right.

It all started just over a year ago. We had friends of ours over for dinner and one of them had finished his first Tough Mudder the day before. His arms and legs were torn up, he needed an extra dose of ibuprofen, and was slightly concerned he may have broken his nose. More importantly, he challenged himself. In a event where most would decide they were too fat and lazy to bother, he emerged victorious.

Days before we has just celebrated Jimmy's first birthday. While I was no longer wearing maternity clothes, I was overweight and out of shape. I used to be a runner. I could run 5 miles a day for days in a row with no major physical discomfort. Having two children and quitting my career to be a stay at home mom left me buried in an unfamiliar cocoon.

I felt lost.

I couldn't find Me.

I needed to make a change.

At that dinner last August, I decided I would train and finish the Tough Mudder next year. I talked my husband into doing it with me. It was a good excuse to get back in shape and set a specific goal and time frame.

We bought two of the least expensive running strollers and started running. We found two framed backpack kiddo carriers at a consignment store and started hiking as a family. We cut out fast food. We ate at home. We did yoga videos and got a medicine ball to exercise with. I decided to do a plank a day, everyday. In May, we climbed a volcano to over 11,300 feet above sea level.

But training time is up and my Tough Mudder is in two days. In the beautiful, autumnal mountains of West Virginia. I'll be honest. I go back and forth between totally pumped and scared shitless. But I set out to do the Tough Mudder and finish it, and damn it, that is exactly what I am going to do.


Me, August 2013
I'm going to do something I don't often ask you do to. I want you to make a donation to my Tough Mudder race. The extra bonus is that I am running the Mudder on Team Microsoft and Microsoft has pledged to match every donation I collect for the Wounded Warrior Project.

The ante has been upped and my husband has pledged to match all your donations as well! Thanks, lover!

Give $50 and make dinner at home instead (Your $50 becomes a $200 donation!). Give $30 and skip the lattes this month (It will become a $120 donation.) Give $10 and pass on a yard of new fabric that you don't really need (It will become a $40 donation.). Give something. Because this money goes to benefit people who left their families and put their lives on the line so you didn't have to. They fight so you don't have to and they came back with no legs, or missing an arm, or have sustained some other injury that you won't ever encounter in your daily routine.

Please make a donation today. If you absolutely can't make a donation, please share my story on your facebook and twitter. Pin this post. Tag me in your instagram. Help me meet me goals. And I'll surely be posting the before and after pictures next week!

Need more inspiration? Check out this video about the relationship between the Wounded Warrior Project and the Tough Mudder.

Thank you in advance for your generosity. See you at the finish line! (And don't forget to make a donation!)

Ten pounds, five ounces, twenty three inches

I don't even know what to say today. My little dude, my moose, my baby is two years old. I swore I'd never be the mom who wished her children would not grow up. Hell, some days I day dream of the when they are both over 18 and on their own.


I don't want to freeze time. What I really want is a memory recorder. I want to be able to play them back, crystal clear with all the emotions I felt. I'd record today, as he is just turning two.

When he makes that radiant smile at me and calls me momma. When he plops himself down in my lap with a book and snuggles back on my chest tucking his head under my chin. When he falls, skinning his knee and I scoop him up and he throws his arms around me and squeezes.




I'd record the day he was born. The great earthquake he caused. The sound of his cry. The nurses nicknaming him Moose and trying to guess his weight. The absolute heart busting joy I felt when they laid his naked body on mine.

I would record the naps we took together in the sunshine on a quilted bed. The pride on his face as he discovered new things. His excitement as he shouted "Ready? Ready? Ready?" and leapt off of the couch.




I want all those files stored and backed up somewhere. I'll never forget, but the details will fade. The crispness will blur. Most of all I want to save those feelings. Why can't I play back my love at first sight? It would turn all Rough Days into great days. I suppose it's all a bit too much Eternal Sunshine on the Spotless Mind.

Jimmy Quinn is all snips, snails and puppy dog tails. He's dirty and sticky and sweaty. He's loud and messy and always looking for trouble. I love hij so much. Happy birthday, Moose.

One thousand and ninety six days in the making

I sang to her for forty one weeks. When they put her face next to mine she sang right back to me. I believe in love at first sight.

Happy birthday, Jane Felix. You make my heart explode.

Pirate Ship Birthday Cake Pictorial Tutorial

This past week we celebrated Jimmy Quinn's first birthday with friends and family. I had planned on making pirate cupcakes. My husband was disappointed with my choice given birthday cakes I have made in the past; full size dragons, moons, owls, lego man. I even melted a Buzz Lightyear onto a rainbow cake one year. (Unintentionally) My husband suggested a pirate ship cake would be more worthy a first birthday celebration.

What you need:
Three 9'" x 13" cakes
3/4 pound of butter made into frosting (three sticks)
Chocolate covered sugar wafer cookies
Gold coins, gold nuggets, Rolos and gummy sharks
Computer paper (tear the edges, dip your hands in coffee and wipe on paper for sails)
Three sets of chopsticks

Here she is!