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. Newly single mom. Business owner. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend. But no longer wife. Grab a cup, sit on the comfy couch and chat with me.

What do you do?

We call it Corona Confidence.

Living in the gray.

Tell Me a Story.

We all tell ourselves stories. About ourselves, our relationships, our roles. Some stories we carry with us from childhood. Some we pick up in college and young adulthood. Others you take on when you become a partner. Not in any bad way. Just in a way that makes the partnership run more smoothly, that capitalizes on the different strengths and proclivities. Though I have learned there can be an inherent danger in believing the stories you create. Somehow my story became that

Kids these days...

T: Momma, we are learning about coordinates. On maps. Like, old-timey ones. V: Tristan, people still use maps. Real, paper maps. T: I know. But I meant in the olden days, when there wasn't wi-fi. V: ... T: You know, like when you couldn't use Waze or Google. Wow. Time to pull out a map. If the wi-fi goes my kids are screwed.

Logical Question.

Deserves a logical answer. I got asked the other day how long I had been single. I don't know the answer. I don't know when to start counting.

Love the One You're With...

I think, or I know, as moms and maybe even females, we put ourselves last on the list. The needs of others come first. Women tend to be the caregivers, the homemakers, the house manager. Tend to be. I am not generalizing to all women. I know some incredible men who fit those categories and incredible women who don't. But I do. I fit those categories. Even when I was working outside of the home full-time, I managed appointments and playdates and date nights and decorating. Ok,

A letter to my sons.

*Originally posted May 24, 2018.* I am publishing this again. Because I think it is worth noting that I am teaching my sons, and daughter, about "no". About consent. About bullying. About persistence versus acceptance. Not necessarily because it is pertinent to my life right now. Though it is. But because it is pertinent to everyone's life. Always. But also right now in a yuuuuuuge way. I believe survivors. Dr. Ford didn't ruin his career with her allegations/story/recounting

Just us girls.

I have been really fortunate to have solo time with each kid when they were little. I was home with Tristan for 14 months and Bogen for 6. Parley is a little different what with her being the last and her stay in the NICU. While she and I did get alone time it was only for a couple of hours while Bogen was at school and it was her nap time. It was technically just us girls but we weren't really spending any time together. Until now. Both boys are in school full time. Which ha

What I for Sure Don't Know.

Let's be clear, this list could be miles long. I am sure there is some commentary pertinent about why this list would be longer than the inverse list. I don't have the energy to delve into that. For myself or for all the societal teachings that create this dilemma. So, let's just get to my list. I am not alone. I am sure. If some of these resonate? High five. Know that when you feel super dumb you are not alone either! 1. I do not know how to dress my kids for the weather. Th

September, I hardly knew ya'.

The start of school is always a little bumpy. New routines. Exhausted kiddos. And a ton of new stuff to remember. We did ok. I think. I am fairly certain. If only because it is October and we all still seem to be here. Onward.