I’m a mostly shy brunette whose roots wind back to sweet tea in rural Eastern Tennessee and
sassy Cubans serving flan—I don’t speak Southern or Spanish fluently—
who married a blue-eyed heartthrob of a husband and die-hard Dolphin fan.
They were a package deal.
I’m an Exercise Science major who decided exercising was
a hobby/a personal passion/a lifelong pursuit
but not a career
and an English minor who decided
writing simply as a hobby/a personal passion/a lifelong pursuit
was not an option in itself
and we’re calling that Plan B
if the dreamcometrue of freelancing falls through the clouds.
I was raised in the Florida heat in the middle of a large, loud, loving family,
who I missed every single day
when I packed up my sun-soaked life and transplanted to the foreign, friendless
Commonwealth of Virginia.
Rants of the terriblehorriblenogoodverybadday were commonplace.
And then the golden door to a more sunshiney state
reopened. So here we are again
embracing the hot hot heat.
Smack dab in the middle of the summer
we became a trio
and welcomed the most beautiful wavy haired, pouty lipped baby into our world.
Then, in a blink, she’s a spitfire little girl.
And now we’re poised to add a baby boy
to complete our family of four.
(Five, when we add furry, four-legged Maya.)
At the tainted heart of it all, I am saved by a grace
I don’t deserve. (Ask me about it.)
To make sense of all the whining
and mocking and bad joking,
it’s also helpful to know:
basking in the comfort of my twenties was sufficient justification for eating cereal for dinner
more nights than not,
turning 30 has perhaps prompted me to dust off the crock pot a few more times,
but generally I do not take the title “housewife” all too seriously
in terms of scrubbing and crafting and prepping and hosting,
so you shouldn’t take me too seriously, either,
and you really shouldn’t call during a Florida State football game (an inherited trait from my older brother),
I am attempting to get mistaken for a long distance runner and
I survive on sarcasm with a side of coffee and cream.
Email me! firstname.lastname@example.org