Anne: Inked.

I absolutely love tattoos. I know some people hate them and don't understand why someone would commit to something so permanent and image-altering, and I completely get that. It's a big commitment. But to me there's just something so beautiful about body art that represents who you are as an individual and what is most important to you.

Recently I've been working on sleeving my left arm. Though it's still very much a work in progress, I wanted to share photos of each element and what each piece represents to me.

The first element is one I've been working on since last summer. I love these clocks so very, very much. The time on each of the clocks represents a significant date/person in my life - 6:22 (6/22) is the date Sean and I got married, and 5:21 (5/21) and 12:03 (12/3) are Taylor and Oliver's birthdays. To me this piece is most important because it represents the three most important people in my life.

The open birdcage is symbolic of me choosing to go my own way, define myself, and to be free to make my own life choices. Part of that freedom includes the decision Sean and I made a little over four years ago to leave our religion and choose our own path. I can honestly say it's been one of the best decisions we've ever made together.

For those who don't recognize this quote, it's from a Radiohead song called "Karma Police." I've always loved this particular line as it can mean so many things to so many people. To me, it represents my struggles with depression and serves as a reminder to me that when the darkness of depression consumes me, I temporarily lose myself. This is actually very comforting because it means that depression doesn't define me. Depression is a liar.

This is one of my favorite pieces. These little guys are three of my favorite literary characters from children's books - Alexander from "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day," the Little Prince, and Milo from "The Phantom Tollbooth." I've always been fond of children's books as I feel that they can teach adults so much about love and life and about what is really important. Alexander reminds me that bad days just happen sometimes (even in Australia), and that it's okay to be mad and frustrated sometimes. Honor your feelings and acknowledge them; even negative feelings are valid. The Little Prince reminds me to always try and see things from a child's perspective, to keep my priorities straight, and to appreciate the little things. Milo reminds me to keep my eyes open, to not take anything for granted, and to try to be happy and content in every chapter of my life. Milo is also a little tribute to my grandma, who helped me develop a love of reading and gave me a copy of "The Phantom Tollbooth" on my tenth birthday.

This crab is an important addition to my sleeve. My astrological sign is Cancer, and though I don't put a lot of faith in astrology, I do believe there is some truth to it. I am a Cancer through and through. Inside the crab are stylized versions of my parents' astrological signs as well as roman numerals representing the years they were born. I am made from them, and have inherited many admirable (and not so admirable) qualities from both of them. I adore them both and owe so much of the person I am now to the way they raised me. This is my tribute to them.

So there you have it - a little peek into my ink and what it means to me. I've still got some more work to do on my sleeve, but I'm so happy with the way it's looking so far!

Lessons Learned.

Hey! I have an idea! I'll start a blog in May, write two posts, and then stop posting for over six months! But no one is perfect. Including me. Especially me.

But here I am! It's almost 2014 and a time for new beginnings, new commitments, and new blog posts.

In all honesty I forgot this blog was here and attempted to start a new one, then realized that setting all this blog shit up is super hard and time consuming and ain't nobody got time fo dat! Phew, good thing this blog was already set up and ready to rock and roll.

I suppose I should play a little game of catch-up. Y'know, since I haven't written since May and all.

This was an interesting year for me. Also, have you ever noticed how people use the word "interesting" as a super nice guise for other words like "awful" and "hellish" and "shitty?" Okay, so this year wasn't THAT terribly bad, but it did feel like a bit of a roller coaster, full of really high times and super low times as well. So before I start posting about fresh starts and new resolutions and shiny new goals that haven't been tarnished and trampled yet, I'm going to talk a bit about six major lessons I've learned from 2013. Here goes.

Lesson the First: I don't want to be a homemaker anymore.

Okay, so that's not entirely true. I've grown up in a culture where you're either a working woman/mother (hiss!) or you're a stay-at-home wife and mother who spends her entire day caring for her brood, cleaning her house, and cooking for her family (yay!). It hasn't been until very recently that I've learned that I can, in fact, be both. I've been working since July and have recently started a new job that I love; one that can jump-start me into an actual, real-life, professional career. Though it's been quite the transition to get through, I feel so... refreshed. I feel like I am a more balanced person and I feel like my husband and I are now truly equal partners. We both contribute to our family financially, take equal responsibility for maintaining the house, helping with the kids, and cooking meals. It's busy and chaotic and stressful sometimes, but it's also magical. And I love it.

Lesson the Second: Living with other people is fun. And hard. And we probably won't do it again for quite some time.

For seven out of the twelve months this year we had other people living in our house. We had a roommate for a little over a month, then my mom moved in for a couple of months, and then a friend and her two kids lived with us for almost five months. In every case we were more than happy to offer our home to those we love, but there are always complications when you live with people who aren't your immediate family. I know we aren't the easiest people to live with either. At all. Like not even a little bit. We had some great times as well though, and it was actually a little weird getting back to having just us and our munchkins in the house. Now I almost feel like we need to downsize because we have too much room. Everything is relative, I suppose.

Lesson the Third: Sometimes close relationships aren't meant to last.

I've made a lot of mistakes this year. I've permanently damaged relationships that I know now will never heal. Not completely, anyway. And maybe they shouldn't heal. Maybe sometimes the point of going through difficult experiences with people you love is that you learn more about yourself, about what you want in life, about how to grow some balls and stand up for yourself. And then you part ways and wish each other well. Though there's a very good chance that I've irreparably hurt some very good people, I also hope that in some way I was able to help them along their life path. Fingers crossed.

Lesson the Fourth: Life is just one big game of "The Domino Effect." 

One thing leads to another, which leads to something else, which lands you in a place you never imagined you'd be with people you never imagined you'd meet. It's a really incredible thing. It's fun to watch, and it makes me wonder where I'll be heading next. Isn't life just one big, crazy, unpredictable adventure??

Lesson the Fifth: Karma is a bitch. But only if you're an asshole. 

Though I've done a lot of damage this year, I've also tried my hardest to help out those I love where I can. Some of that help came in the form of support and a shoulder to cry on; some came in the form of a simple distraction from life, whether it was a drink, a laugh, or a long talk over a hot cup of coffee; some of that support came in monetary form. I'm in no way mentioning this as a way to brag or make myself look better than I really am; I'm talking about it because I firmly believe that all that "good energy" has come back to me. And then some. I was offered a lucrative job that I still feel I don't deserve, made some incredible friends who are so loving and supportive, and I feel like for the most part I'm in a much better place than I was a year ago. Karma is a fascinating thing.

Lesson the Sixth: I get to choose my family. 

As an active member of the PostMormon community in Utah, I've listened to so many heartbreaking stories about good people who have been shamed and rejected by their own family. Parents no longer talk to their children; children no longer speak to their parents; siblings are cut off from each other; spouses file for divorce on the sole basis that their companion has chosen a path they find unacceptable. I've seen these people weep and worry and I've seen the loneliness that overwhelms and consumes them. I've been relatively fortunate in this area, which is nice. That said, I've learned a really valuable lesson about the definition of "family" and what it is and is not. Family are people who fully and completely accept the person you are and want you to be happy, regardless of whether or not your lifestyle mirrors theirs. They don't judge you or try to change you or send you off on ridiculous and unnecessary guilt trips. Life is too short to spend with people who relentlessly make you feel bad about yourself, regardless of whether or not you share the same genetic makeup and last name.

Phew, that was quite a list. And 2013 was quite a year.

It was a year of personal change and reflection, of exciting new adventures and heartbreak, of excitement and a tinge of regret. And I am so. fucking. glad. it's. over.

So here's to lessons learned, to new friends and past relationships, to parties and reckless abandon, to tears and confusion, to losing sleep for good reasons and not so good reasons, to holding on and letting go.

I'm anxious to see what 2014 has in store. Let's do this.

Mr. Fix-It

I consider myself a pretty big feminist. I think women should be treated equal to men in every way. I think much of our society's issues stem from the perpetuated idea that men are the dominant gender and that women are nothing more than objects. I despise the idea pounded into little girl's heads that they are fragile little flowers who must be rescued by a prince because they are incapable of saving themselves. I believe rape culture and slut shaming is a massive example of blaming the victim and making male abusers feel justified in continuing to hurt women. I don't like that so many girls are raised to believe that their only goals in life should be wife and mother, who are in some cases openly discouraged from going to college and having fulfilling careers. It's frustrating to me that a "feminist movement" is still taking place, that our society hasn't overcome these basic issues yet.

Now that I've firmly stated my position, allow me to completely contradict myself in one little instance.

I love, love, LOVE when my husband takes care of me and protects me. I don't think it's so much a masculine/feminine thing as it is that I just like feeling safe and provided for. I especially love when he's able to do things for me that I am incapable of doing for myself.

For example, last night we were in the kitchen cleaning before bed and I was doing a load of dishes. As we were talking I noticed my feet were getting wet, and when I looked down I saw water GUSHING out from the cupboard under the sink. I quickly turned the water off and hubby grabbed a bunch of towels to start soaking up the mess. I opened the cupboard to survey the damage and one of the pipes under the sink had come completely unattached from the section of pipe above it. Upon further inspection we realized that the pipe hadn't ever been properly attached - that instead of being threaded or glued to the adjoining pipe, it was just sort of pushed into place. It was only a matter of time before the two pipes disconnected from each other.

Now if I had been living alone, I would have stared at that broken pipe for about ten straight minutes, probably cried a little, and then waited until the next day to either call a plumber or ask a friend for help. Never in my wildest dreams would I have even ATTEMPTED to fix it myself. Not because I'm a "damsel in distress," but because I just know absolutely nothing about plumbing and I wouldn't have any idea where to start on a project like that.

My hubster, on the other hand, rolled up his sleeves, broke out the measuring tape to measure god-knows-what, and headed off to the hardware store. I laid down on the sofa and surfed Facebook whilst waiting for him to get home, like a super useful-but-clueless person would do, and I ended up drifting off to sleep. I awoke an hour later to hubby telling me it was time to go get in bed. I asked him if he was able to find the piece he needed, and he responded with a super sexy grin and a simple "It's all fixed." I don't think I've ever been more in love with my husband than I was right then, and in that small moment he really was my proverbial "knight in shining armor."

Examining the damage.

Can a self-proclaimed feminist be okay with being rescued by her man every once in a while? Of course! Because this isn't about a gender issue, it's about a marriage issue. A relationship issue. A companion issue. A big perk of being in a committed, long-term relationship with another person is that you get to be part of a team, a super awesome dynamic duo where each person brings something to the table. Both people have individual skills, experience, and perspective that contribute to the relationship as a whole. I'm good at managing money, organizing, and cooking. So that's what I bring to our marriage. My husband is good at fixing mechanical problems, explaining complicated concepts to our boys, and working hard to earn money for our family. That's what he brings to our team. He appreciates the things I do for us, and I appreciate what he does. It works. It jives. And it would be the same situation if both of us were female, or both of us were male. Gender is irrelevant.

I'm so insanely, overwhelmingly grateful that I have a good guy who helps make our marriage the amazing partnership it is. And I'm equally grateful for indoor plumbing. That's super nice too.

Hello, world.

After years of posting on our family blog, I've decided that to motivate myself to start writing again I need a change. I'm not the same person I was clear back in 2007 when I started my old blog, and I think it's time to turn the page and start a new chapter.

So, welcome world!

I'm Anne and I'm currently a stay-at-home mom to two little monster boys, wife to my hot boyfriend, and a really shitty homemaker. I feel like a really immature and clueless child who's been thrown into the world of grown-ups where everyone has their lives figured out and knows what they want, and I'm still just sitting here trying to figure out how people keep their houses so clean all the time. This blog is basically a record of my adventures in motherhood and wifehood and homemakerhood and womanhood and childhood and all those other hoods. Yo.

Enjoy.

Or don't.

It's really up to you.

I can't tell you what to do.

I'm not the boss of you.