Miss Britt – that’s me. I was born in 1980, which means I’m old enough to drink, smoke and vote. I’m happy to say I exercise all of these liberties as needed.

It also means I’m entirely too young to have two children and have been married for this long. Do you know what most people my age are doing?

I was born and raised in small town Iowa. In August 2007 my husband and I, along with our two kids, packed up and moved to central Florida – 1400 miles away from everyone and everything we ever knew. It was one of the hardest and most rewarding things I’ve ever done. You will find me going on and on and on about this across pages and pages of this blog.

You will also find me writing about vaginas (I don’t know how, but at some point it became my “thing”), shopping, depression, politics, religion, my quest to take over the world, and me.

This blog is basically an up close and way too personal look at my life. The good, the bad, the embarrassing, the ugly and the crap that happens to everyone, but no one else wants to talk about.

This is Jared, also known as my husband. Commonly referred to around the world as “that poor, poor man.”

He has resigned himself to the fact that my life – and therefore his – is an open book. He is less resigned to the fact that on slow bloggy days, he is prime fodder.

But that hasn’t stopped him from letting me take pictures of him with a highlighting bonnet cap on.

This is my son, Devin. He was born when I was 19 year old, and made me a mom long before I realized I wanted to be one. Because of this, he is my miracle baby.

He is brilliant. Seriously. He’s had tests that say so!

He also leaves me absolutely speechless that such a bright child can be so, so stupid. Honestly. PUT YOUR PLATE IN THE DISHWASHER! Argh.

He is a good kid. A spectacularly unique and wonderful kid. And he gets grounded from his TV a lot.

And then, there is Emma.

Emma will make your heartache with sweetness and her pixie voice.

And bring you to your knees with her fierce independence and fiery temper.

She taught me that being a parent for five years already does not mean you know shit about raising kids. She was also my chance to plan a baby, and the day she was born was one of the most perfect days of my life.

She is also, God willing, the last baby I’ll ever have. If she had been first, there is no way in hell I would have signed up to do this twice.

Damage Control

If you know me…

…and have stumbled upon this blog, please proceed with caution.

This blog represents a side of me that you will not see at Sunday Dinners, Parent-Teacher conferences or CCD class. I swear. I make inappropriate jokes. I discuss things that women with manners don’t normally discuss in mixed company.

If this site is going to create an image of me that you can’t live with – seriously, don’t read it.

If, however, you can appreciate sarcasm and crudeness and snarkiness – and still understand that all of the OTHER things you know about me (including my faith, thank you very much) are also true – then by all means, enjoy. And don’t be afraid to comment and let me know you’re reading! (It’s OK, even my mom reads it.)

If you DON’T know me…

…and you blog as well, than I assume that you “get” the craziness that is blogging. I will also assume that you understand that people have multiple layers and sides and aspects of their personalities.

This blog will contain lots of swearing. I was raised by a construction worker and I can’t help but find the word “fuck” funny in almost all forms.

Don’t send me hate mail. It’s really not worth your time or mine.

In the upper right hand corner you will find an X. (Unless you’re on a MAC, in which case you are smarter than the rest of us and don’t need directions.) Feel free to use it.

All of THAT aside… I’m glad you’re here. Really. Feel free to comment and/or email me any time.

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