HOUSE OF KB

I have always wanted to write. I have, actually, for years. But I don't think the adolescent ramblings of a tween or the documentation tendencies of a young adult count. I've recently reread them. So I can tell you, they don't. Now I need a place to be free. Unfettered. As I figure out this new space and place in my life. Business owner. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend. And now reconciled wife.

 

Grab a cup, sit on the comfy couch and chat with me.

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Should be called "Momma Rest"! I'm gonna Oprah these for every new mom, moms with kids that don't sleep, moms with kids who wake up too early or, you know, any person who likes sleep. xoxo

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2 out of 3. Thus far.

Hey there, click the link below, put anything in your Amazon cart and check out and the House of KB gets a little bank in our account. It's the little things. Like honesty. See what I did there? Every night we do a ten minute clean-up. Nothing more and nothing less than a quick once-over of the house. Some days it looks like nothing was accomplished in those ten minutes. Other days it helps us all breathe a little easier. By necessity, and for my sanity, the boys are doing more. They are also older. So perhaps it is correlation as much as causation. (Nerd alert) Regardless, I am expecting more from them. Chores. Those that are required and those that get a small allowance for their piggy ban

Funny kid.

I was washing dishes and all of a sudden heard footsteps heading up the stairs and the unmistakable silence of no Parley. V: Boys, what are you doing? T: Parley is tired so we're putting her to bed. V: Okayyyy, then. (Head upstairs to help.) Let me show you how to put her to bed. T: Momma, you know I can't nurse her, right? V: ::raucous laughter:: Yes, I do know. Funny kid. Honestly, he is really, really funny. Clever. Quick. And his delivery? Spot on. He went on to explain to me why he couldn't nurse, you know, because he's a boy. Got it. Thanks, kid. And should be noted, they were right. They know her tells. P Girl was tired. This post brought to you buy a sense of humor of a precocious 8

Thar She Blows!!

I think I am doing fine. Swimming along. Sure, sometimes it's against the tide. But sometimes it's on my back looking dreamily up at the sky. Bouyant and calm. And then, kapow. I go kass over tea kettle and I am sucking in water and completey disoriented. Healing is not a linear process. At all. It never is. You'd be hard pressed to find someone who promises that it is. Especially someone who has been there. It is messy and chaotic and as many steps forward as back. There is no finite end and, I have learned for me, no finite beginning. I can point to a moment where I said I was done. Done fighting and sleuthing and hoping and praying and changing. But that was not when the healing started.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

There is so much new in this new chapter. New roles and responsibilities. New routines. New ways of doing and being and moving through the world. I tend not to explain myself. I haven't for a long time. Not because I don't believe I need to, though I don't. But mostly because what you see is what you get. There's not a lot of explaining to do when you are pretty transparent. And while I don't find myself explaining now, I do find myself offering details I never thought necessary. Details like, he forgot he couldn't have a girlfriend AND be married. Or, younger, thinner but, dare I say, not as pretty as me. And, my favorite, well he told her he loved her sooo... Not only am I forging a new pa

Lesson learned.

Sharing is caring. You know it. I know it. Got in the car today after being at the children's museum, a mexican restaurant and Starbucks. (No, this is not the start of a joke.) Looked in the mirror and saw a nice dollop of lipstick on my teeth and just enough lip liner left to look like a vampiress. (No offense to my lady vamps!) I say aloud, "Gah. I have lipstick on my teeth." and Tristan says from the backseat, "Yep. You had it at the restaurant.". Ummmm, why didn't he tell me!?!?!? Well, he didn't know. But now he does. So, you're welcome, people in Tristan's future who will never walk around with something in or on your teeth. And as I said to Tristan, he got a pass because the adults

Uh-oh.

Thanks for coming along on this journey with me. Think that what I am saying is worth sharing? Please do. Facebook, Twitter, email, text. Heck, write a note and mail a copy. I accept all kinds. Plus, it'll help a girl out! Parley is as smart as her brothers. I am not saying that this is a bad thing. I AM saying that I am going to be quickly outsmarted by three kids. The odds aren't in my favor now. I refuse to think of the odds once they can all communicate with one another. Parley is quick and clever and has a memory like an elephant. She is also beautiful. And I am not even saying that as her mother. At this point, I have an inflated sense of ego due to all the strangers stopping and going

Two truths and a lie.

As a stay-at-home mom, my to-do list is large. As a work-from-home mom, it is even larger. It is a rare day where I get even half of my list done. This can be demoralizing. Sometimes I shorten my list so I can be successful at the end of the day. (Actually, I have started to make more realistic lists. Hugely helpful.) Sometimes I add things to the list that I have already done. Am I right??? When we were in marriage counseling the wasband opened up one day and listed some of the things that I did, or didn't do, that broke our marriage. In my head it became two truths and a lie. The first truth?I didn't cook or do dishes. The second truth? The house was often a mess when he came home. The li

Close one door.

Sometimes you do open another. There have been many unexpected changes in my life since we separated and the wasband moved out. I think one of the most prominent ones is my feeling of safety overnight. We live in a relatively safe town. The break-ins are relegated to cars mostly. Maybe I have a false sense of security. But now that I am the only adult in the house, I think about our safety significantly more. The wasband wasn't a hulking, intimidating guy. But the plan was always that he would go down and check out the noise/confront the attacker/be a hero and I would wrangle the kids and get them out. It was more divide and conquer than an assignment based on strengths. I don't have that no

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