The short version:
I am a mommy to two clever girls, one sweet boy, one goofy golden retriever and six chickens. I am a recovering perfectionist, ridiculously into mindfulness and sort of crunchy--think homemade granola. I write about motherhood, raising little people, mental health and making good choices.
The long version, because I don't handle word limits:
I was born and raised in California. There's not much more or less defnitive to my childhood than that. Other than the brother-eating bush or the time I said "French kiss" at Rainbow Daycare or some other stuff I might make up to illustrate a point to my children.
Then, I went to Wellesley College. Best time EVER. Learned a ton of stuff about stuff. And about myself. There's a bunch of writings on this blog from that era. Very emo, very precocious, very quasi-insightful. Here's an explanation of that load of crap which I imported to Dearest Daughters in a moment of panic, worried about losing my college opus. It's good stuff to read when I start to take myself too seriously. For me, at least, a guaranteed laugh. For my daughters a lesson in the early days of the Internet and over-sharing.
I met my husband, Mike, the summer after college when I had a rocking body and was house-sitting in million dollar homes and interning like whoa and hitting The City. Basically, living THE LIFE. When I met Mike, I had three other "Michaels" programed into my cell phone. Okay, one was a Miguel. Nevertheless!
We were married in a year, so I can't tell you jack about not rushing into marriage.
I went to grad school at UCLA and got my M.Ed. in a social justice education program. I taught 9th grade social studies in Watts. I value the experience, but I hated about 95% of every day. Particularly the waking up at 5:30 AM.
So, I got knocked up. Moved back to my family in Northern California. And that's when Babybel entered the scene. Twenty months later: Danjo. Both were planned pregnancies, if you're wondering. I'd like to have about eighteen more babies. And I'm not even that kind of religious.
I started writing this blog to keep me sane in my early days of motherhood. Here's one of my inaugural Dearest Daughters/preservation of sanity posts.
And then I had a nervous breakdown in 2012. Since then I've written about my experience of anxiety, depression and bipolar disorder.
(Oh, and I popped out another baby.)
And so life continues, day by day, minute by minute, breath by breath.
(Dude, I told you I was into mindfulness).
