Visible M(others): The Blog as Digital Family Scrapbook

I've been selected to participate in a gallery exhibition over the course of the next six weeks titled "Visible M(others): Images of Parenting in Visual Culture." The show runs March 4 - April 11, 2010 at the Boise State University Student Union Gallery and is free to the public (go see it!). I'm collaborating with Shannon Paterson over at Anchormommy.com. We'll both be writing new posts on Thursdays of each week for the six weeks of the exhibition, exploring ideas of how our "mommyblogs" act as a sort of "digital front porch swing," a place to share information and be heard, a forum for asking questions, showing off our kids and our skills. Mommyblogs act not only as an informational outlet, but a creative force in our contemporary maternal culture, as the blogs are not only loaded with verbal creativity, but photography, crafts, and other digital imagery, documenting our lives as mothers. Provoking complex questions, the exhibition presents new perspectives on traditional, contemporary, alternative or imagined parenting and how they operate in a visible/invisible landscape of maternal visual culture.

My mom has been an avid scrapbooker for as long as I can remember. As the oldest child in my family, of course, I have the most pictures, many pasted and carefully captioned in a number of scrapbooks, from one lovingly hand-quilted and cross-stitched by my mom to a puffy painted one in my high school colors just for the hundreds of cheerleading pictures I have. Both my parents are really into family history and documentation, and I certainly gained that interest from them. As my adult life gets busier and busier, I still have the good intentions of scrapbooking but never seem to get around to it. I have boxes and folders full of old love letters from my husband, concert ticket stubs, restaurant menus, city maps, positive pregnancy tests, first haircut snippets, and, of course, photos galore. Like all first time moms, my documentation of my pregnancy with Lucy and her first year or two of life is great. But, poor Alice, got the shit end of the deal, as my second baby. I still have good intentions, mind you. My mother-in-law is a rep for Stampin' Up, so I've got gorgeous scrapbooking supplies coming out of may ass. I just don't really have the time. Nor do I have the inclination to print the hundreds of digital prints that are collecting on my laptop; there lies the unfortunate dilemma of film photography vs. digital. Thankfully, great sites like Shutterfly will do most of the work for you. I just did Alice's first year baby book on Shutterfly for about $25 and 3 hours of time. I do think, though, for that amount of time, I could've done it myself for free (sigh).

What I love about this blog, however, is that it acts in much the same way as a scrapbook does because it includes photos. To me, though, it's more like a journal. I don't usually cuss in my scrapbooking - "Happy Motherfuckin' Birthday, Baby Girl!" just doesn't seem appropriate. It is, however, a more accurate portrayal of my everyday life and is more real. Which is what I love about this online journaling. I get to document some unique, silly parts and activities of our everyday lives, like this:

Earlier this week marked the 1st Annual Brown Family March Viewing of The Wizard of Oz. When I was little, the airing of The Wizard of Oz on television in March marked the beginning of spring and my parents made it special.

We all put our 'jamas on, got our sleeping bags out, and ate Jelly Bellys. In the early 1980s in rural Idaho, Jelly Bellys were gourmet candy that we only got once a year. I anxiously waited for mixing those tasty little morsels in my mouth to make flavors all my own. It's Buttered Popcorn, however, that still remains my favorite.


While you can now pick up Jelly Bellys everywhere, including your neighborhood dollar store, I've tried to keep them a special treat just for this movie viewing occasion. We all love this movie so much and never tire of watching it. I've had this VHS copy of the film for as long as I can remember. In fact, Eric and I watched it on one of our very first dates and, years later, the iconic theme song played as we walked down the aisle after saying "I DO!" in Nevada.


So out came the Sleeping Beauty sleeping bag and all our beanbags, too. Alice was so worried for Toto and Lucy realized for the first time it was all a dream. These are the sorts of things I love documenting on this blog, these sort of special, ordinary moments. And, sometimes, some extraordinary, sad things, too. This week also marks the one year anniversary of my traumatic layoff - the one that scarred me, scared me, and shook me to the core. The one it took me a year to come to terms with. My metaphorical house was whipped up in a tornado and came crashing down, killing the big bad witch, but leaving me lost in a world I'd never seen before. With a little help along the way, from new friends and old, I grew to love Munchkinland and realized that there truly is "no place like home."

Thanks for coming along on this ride with me and reading my blog as I stumble my way through it. I do see what a special document this is, not only for my sanity, but what a unique chronicle of a piece of my family's life and our story for my girls to have and share with their kids in the future. Now, if I can only find the time to print it....

Visible M(others): Exhibition Reponse, What Piece(s) Speak to Me?

I've been selected to participate in a gallery exhibition over the course of the next six weeks titled "Visible M(others): Images of Parenting in Visual Culture." The show runs March 4 - April 11, 2010 at the Boise State University Student Union Gallery and is free to the public (go see it!). I'm collaborating with Shannon Paterson over at Anchormommy.com. We'll both be writing new posts on Thursdays each week for the six weeks of the exhibition, exploring ideas of how our "mommyblogs" are a sort of "digital front porch swing," a place to share information and be heard, a forum for asking questions, showing of our kids and our skills. Mommyblogs act not only as an informational outlet, but a creative force in our contemporary maternal culture, as the blogs are loaded not only with verbal creativity, but photography, crafts, and other digital imagery, documenting our lives as mothers. Provoking complex questions, the exhibition presents new perspectives on traditional, contemporary, alternative or imagined parenting and how they operate in a visible/invisible landscape of maternal visual culture.

I first heard that Dr. Kathleen Keys and Dr. Janice Neri, professors of art education and art history at BSU, were organizing an exhibition on parenting last summer. I was thrilled; this has been an under researched and under appreciated theme in the American art world. Since my family plays such a big role in my artwork, I was excited to submit a piece for consideration. After thinking about it for some time, I decided I wanted to collaborate with someone else and explore the notion of what constitutes fine art and what plays a vital role in our visual culture - the Internet. Of course, I was already writing this blog, with a focus on parenting. I love the idea of collaboration and immediately my friend and fellow mommyblogger Shannon Paterson of Anchormommy.com came to mind. Shannon and I met probably seventeen years ago (eegads!) while undergrads at the University of Idaho. We were both studying in the communications department - me, public relations, and her, journalism. We both met and eventually married our husbands there, who were also friends and fraternity brothers. When I moved backed to Boise almost four years ago we reconnected. What we didn't know was that our lives would take such similar, but different, paths; a year ago she left her career as a news anchor to be a stay at home mom and I was forced into the situation with a layoff. It was coincidence that we both began blogging at the same time, a fun and interesting coincidence. We were both becoming new kinds of moms, blazing our own unique trails and combining our professional and personal lives in different ways. So, Shannon and I collaborated on a proposal for the exhibition and were thrilled to be selected. Especially after I attend the opening of the show a few weeks ago and saw all the other amazing works in the exhibition. Wow.

As a former local museum curator, I know many local artists already. Another friend, father, and artist, Ben Love, was participating in the exhibition with his daughter and invited me to help create a celebratory opening party event for the kids. As gallery exhibitions are typically not geared toward children, this one was an exception. Ben and I knew there would be a ton of kids there and wanted them to feel comfortable in what can sometimes be a, lets face it, stuffy event. We came up with the idea of a 'don your artsy attire' dress up room.

The curators were thrilled and rented a room for us to use. We brought masses and masses of dress up gear and costumes and the kids had a blast dressing up fancy, in their own ways.

I even ended up wearing a Snow White crown the entire evening. We brought animal crackers and pretzels as kid-friendly appetizers and covered a large table with a blanket to make a fort. Ben brought coloring books and crayons and set up a really popular coloring table. The space became a hang out for the adults, too, who participated in dressing up and art making with their children. We got so many positive comments from artists and guests alike about how this was the most fun art opening they'd ever been to. The kids were entertained so mommy and daddy could spend some time chatting with adults and actually looking at the art. But the kids didn't feel confined to the room; they ran throughout the exhibition in their fancy gear, experiencing the artworks and reminding us all what this exhibition is really about after all.

Here's a shot of our piece's physical space in the exhibition, although it's really more of a virtual performance art piece. Shannon and I decided that we'd like it to have a presence to invite visitors to sit down and use the laptop to view our blogs. We set it up to look like our work stations at home do - a simple desk and chair littered with board books and academic resources, an old coffee cup, a stray binkie, a display of our kids drawings. We also have our business cards on the desk, inviting visitors to take one home with them to continue following our blogs and the exhibition.

There are so many interesting and compelling pieces in the exhibition that it was difficult to pick my favorite for this post. I feel most drawn, however, to the collaborative nature, humor, and seriousness of this piece, by Boise artists Ted Apel and Brooke Burton. This is a photo of the wall label for their piece. I know it's a bit blurry, but I think their list of media is brilliant. It includes the more traditional listing of the physical mixed media the piece is made from - paper, glass domes, wire, and table. But it also includes the intangible forces that REALLY came to play in the creating of this artwork: 2 babies, 7 dirty diapers, 11 bottles, 21 wipes, 1 stroller, 3 blankets, etc.

It turns out that Apel, a father of an infant son, approached Burton, a mother of a one-year-old daughter, to collaborate in a unique way. He offered to watch the babies while Brooke did the physical creation of the piece they both brainstormed on. I love that new definition of collaboration as it applies to the art world, and I love the piece they came up with.

It's a lovely, clean white table with glistening glass domes covering white paper origami cranes. Some of the cranes appear to be floating alone and some are crammed into a dome together. Each of the domes have a separate title, based on familial figures Burton has either known or read about it the numerous parenting books she has recently consumed.

They represent the complicated relationships among family members, including the most tenuous one between parent and child and the fine line between nurture and suffocation. While the pieces are physically lovely, they can also easily be interpreted as putting someone on a pedestal, confining them to a glass dome where nothing and no one can get to them, which is a common fear and struggle of new parents. I know I have felt the pull between perfection and protection, and letting my girls go and experience life and pain on their own is a difficult process.

Keys and Neri's students assisted in the creation of the exhibition and have written curatorial statements on each piece of the exhibition, which adds to the educational value of the show. The exhibition is free and is open anytime the BSU SUB is open, so I highly recommend stopping by. Make a date of it - grab a coffee at Moxie Java downstairs and bring your significant other and/or your kids. It's a great and poignant example of what parenting means to a few in our local community, not to mention a stellar showing of contemporary art.

Visible M(others): Inclusive vs. Intrusive, What I Blog About (Or Don't)

I've been selected to participate in a gallery exhibition over the course of the next six weeks titled "Visible M(others): Images of Parenting in Visual Culture." The show runs March 4 - April 11, 2010 at the Boise State University Student Union Gallery and is free to the public (go see it). I'm collaborating with Shannon Paterson over at Anchormommy.com. We'll both be writing new posts on Thursday of each week, for the six weeks of the exhibition, exploring ideas of how our "mommyblogs" are a sort of "digital front porch swing," a place to share information and be heard, a forum for asking questions, showing off our kids and our skills. Mommyblogs act not only as an informational outlet, but a creative force in our contemporary maternal culture, as the blogs are loaded not only with verbal creativity, but photography, crafts, and other digital imagery, documenting our lives as mothers. Provoking complex questions, the exhibition presents new perspectives on traditional, contemporary, alternative or imagined parenting and how they operate in a visible/invisible landscape of maternal visual culture.

In my first post for this exhibition, Visible M(others), I wrote a little about the beginnings of this blog, about how I got laid off and wanted to keep my writing skills sharp. The layoff also gave me the time to devote to creating a blog, something that had been suggested to me by several friends who always loved getting my emailed family updates and photos and thought my writing was funny and interesting. In my second post, I mentioned that I have been an avid reader of blogs for years now, particularly mommyblogs. They have been a source of inspiration and relief for me as a mother, learning from their creativity in the home as well as their struggles. I also knew that there were literally thousands of bloggers out there writing. So, what was to make my blog different? Why would anyone want to read it? Better yet, WHO would want to read it? And what would those people like to read about? Well, those same friends who suggested I start a blog in the first place had great suggestions. But it was truly my dear friend Betsy who helped me flesh it all out in our hours and hours of phone conversations. In between her listening to my ranting and anger and sadness over my layoff, she reminded me that I am also a creative mother and thrifty homemaker with quirky tips to share on life and adventures in Idaho. And that became a sort of "mission statement" for Doin' It All, Idaho Style. I've always searched out the unusual museums and found great little restaurants off the beaten path, so why not share them with others? At the same time, my far away friends and family can see what we're up to out West and keep up with the growing girls. So that's mostly what I blog about - thrifty finds, offbeat adventures, architecture (because I love it so), art, crafts, fun with kiddies, and food (because I love it even more than architecture). Things like this little "roadtrip" I took the girls on last Friday to see the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile IN PERSON, Y'ALL. In Boise. Clear the hell out there at the Albertson's grocery on McMillan and Eagle Road, people. And you know I must be serious about my love of this fancy rig because WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND DRIVES ON EAGLE ROAD? EVER? ESPECIALLY AT 4PM ON A FRIDAY? Spoken like a true downtowner, the devil must've built that part of suburbia, it's that bad.

Now, I've been following the Wienermobile on Twitter for quite some time and begging them to come to Boise, so I couldn't wait to ketchup with them on their cross-country route. The Bologna Song was blaring from the speakers and Lucy, who is just learning to spell, loved the lyrics. But, come on, what kid doesn't, right?

And a giant car shaped like a hot dog is enough to give anyone the giggles, especially with that classic personalized license plate.

Of course, we sat inside and oohed and ahhed at the embroidered wieners on the seats and the squiggly mustard design on the floor. The drivers gave out wiener whistles to the girls but weren't grilling up 'dogs like we'd hoped. And were we ever craving them after our visit. If Albertsons had been smart, they'd have had a stand out front and made a killing. Or at least been selling them at the deli. (Just one more example of the brilliant ideas by Amy you'll find here on Doin' It All, Idaho Style!)

What I don't usually blog about is the more mundane chaos that is 90% of my life. Like the constant cleaning up of cat puke for the past THIRTEEN YEARS OF MY LIFE. Nor do I usually take pictures of it, but there it is, above - a big nasty blob right next to the orange Barbie dress and yellow hair clip, due north of a pair of my green striped mittens. None of which belong on the floor of my living room but ALWAYS SEEM TO BE THERE.

Nor do I write about how my house looks like someone did let The Pigeon Drive The Bus - right through my life. Or how I cuss like a sailor (imagine that) every time I try to walk to the kitchen to refill my glass with more wine from my box because those goddamn Little People hurt like a motherfucker when you step on them barefooted. I don't write about how I leave it like this because I'm too tired at the end of the day to care. And why waste my time? The toys better hide the orange Goldfish cracker crumbs crushed into my carpet anyway.

Also, I don't usually blog about very many other people in my life, with the exception of my lovely little Lucy and Alice. I occasionally write about my dreamy husband, Eric, but he is shy and wants to edit/approve what I post about him first. And most of the time I'm like, dude, I love you, but you live here with me in this messy little world of ours so, sorry, you're fair game. Only that I don't ever write anything bad or negative about him because there really isn't anything to say along those lines. He's amazing. And he drives me less nuts than those two sweethearts above, both who really do spend most of their time with no shirts or shoes on. But they don't really get a say in what I write about them. BECAUSE I GREW THEM IN MY BODY FOR A REALLY LONG TIME AND THEN PUSHED THEIR BIG, STRONG BODIES OUT. OF. MY. VAGINA. And that, my friends, trumps any sort of privacy issues they may or may not have with mommy's blog. Which is what this blog is really about - mommy. It's for me and, ultimately, about me.

And while I typically post about odd, fun, budget-friendly things here, the blog topics Shannon and I are writing about for this exhibition have pushed me out of my comfort zone. And the few comments I've gotten about my more personal posts lately have been positive and making me rethink and reanalyze what this blog is about and what kind of stories I may want to include in the future. It's an evolving thing, this blog is, much like me. And we're still trying to figure it all out.

Visible M(others): Sharing the Struggles, The Blog as Support Network

I've been selected to participate in a gallery exhibition over the course of the next six weeks titled "Visible M(others): Images of Parenting in Visual Culture." The show runs March 5 - April 11, 2010 at the Boise State University Student Union Gallery and is free to the public (go see it!). I'm collaborating with Shannon Paterson over at AnchorMommy.com. We'll both be writing new posts on Thursday of each week for the six weeks of the exhibition, exploring the idea of how our "mommyblogs" are a sort of "digital front porch swing," a place to share information and be heard, a forum for asking questions, for showing off our skills and our kids. Mommyblogs act not only as an informational outlet, but a creative force in our contemporary maternal visual culture, as the blogs are loaded with not only verbal creativity, but photography, crafts, and other digital imagery documenting our lives as mothers. Provoking complex questions, the exhibition presents new perspectives on traditional, contemporary, alternative or imagined parenting and how they operate in a visible/invisible landscape of maternal visual culture.

I think I've been following blogs since their inception, way back in the day when they weren't all fancy and frilly and were just people, writers mainly, who found the world wide web a way to get their words out there. Blogs became an increasingly important part of my search for knowledge and companionship when I got pregnant for the first time in 2007. Those of you who have children know that there is nothing more exhilarating and absolutely terrifying than carrying a child in your womb. I was living in Minneapolis, far, far from family and had no friends at the time who were yet young parents, so I was searching for answers to questions and someone to acknowledge the craziness I was feeling. That craziness became even more powerful a force when little Lucy finally entered the world and I looked to the internet for help. Luckily for me, I found some other mothers out there who weren't afraid to write about their bleeding nipples, tears of exhaustion, and their love of their sweat pants. They made me feel less alone, less nuts, and calmed my nerves. There are inspirational blogs by tattooed mothers who got accidentally knocked up and mothers who have emotional stories of losing their young baby to illness. I cry and laugh and am amazed. When I got laid off, I felt so alone and depressed and read other peoples horror stories about the wreckage that had become their life and it made me feel better. I wasn't alone. And neither were they. Many others, including myself, left comments on their sites, sharing our stories, and ideas, and sorrow. I've always been prone to the plus-sized side of life and have found myself a little heavier after each pregnancy. Realizing I'm really rotund and accepting that fact is a journey and sometimes a struggle, and it's been reassuring to find a slew of blogs by hefty ladies who are proud of their size.

(image of The Popsycle courtesy of www.sweet-juniper.com)

It's not only the ladies that I look to in the blogosphere, however. The daddy writers are also a kick in the pants to follow and have as much wit, interest, and foul language to interest me and accurately share the joys of parenthood. One of my favorites is Sweet Juniper!, written by a husband and wife team in Detroit. Like all excellent writers, they tell ordinary tales of everyday life in extraordinary ways, like lovely little details of their daughter's birthday cake and how they built their family bicycle.

(images courtesy of www.TheBloggess.com)

Nor do I only read blogs for all matters of sadness or struggle. Honestly, besides information gathering, I read them to laugh. And I cannot tell you how many times I've laughed till I've cried over The Bloggess' outrageous storytelling abilities and flat out bizarre sense of humor. Yes, she shares my love of taxidermy, but she also writes hilarious columns for a satirical sex site. And she's a mom. Who's cat sits on her head. And who spends a lot of time in bathrooms.

(image courtesy of www.zakkalife.blogspot.com)

More often than anything these days, though, my blogroll consists of about twenty art and craft sites that I peruse daily for inspiration. There are moms who make the cutest recycled girly clothes I've ever seen, moms who create magazine-worthy baby nurseries, and ladies who, like the one who runs Zakka Life, come up with the best kids crafts and holiday ideas ever. And, lucky for me, one blogger links to another crafty blogger friend who links to another and suddenly I been sucked into my couch and my laptop for hours looking at other peoples great ideas. Which, ultimately, can be the biggest problem with blogs that I see - the amount of time spent reading or watching other people's lives instead of getting out and living your own. It's a danger that I'm increasingly aware of, especially as dreary winter days and the stark aloneness that can often overcome SAHMs can easily take over. There are truly blogs devoted to anything and everything and anyone and everyone can start one of their own for free. Just like me. I've gained inspiration, education, advice, companionship and more from reading them and couldn't be more thankful that the internet has become a tool for bringing people together.

Visible M(others): How To Be A WAHM (Working At Home Mom), My "New" Career

I've been selected to participate in a gallery exhibition over the course of the next six weeks called "Visible M(others): Images of Parenting in Visual Culture." The show runs March 4 - April 11, 2010 at the Boise State University Student Union Gallery and is free to the public (go see it!). I'm collaborating with Shannon Paterson over at Anchormommy.com. We'll both be writing new posts on Thursday of each week, for the six weeks of the exhibition, exploring ideas of how our "mommyblogs" are a sort of "digital front porch swing," a place to share information and be heard, a forum for asking questions, showing off our kids and our skills. Mommyblogs act not only as an informational outlet, but a creative force in our contemporary maternal culture, as the blogs are loaded not only with verbal creativity, but also photography, crafts, and other digital imagery, documenting our lives as mothers. Provoking complex questions, the exhibition presents new perspectives on traditional, contemporary, alternative or imagined parenting and how they operate in a visible/invisible landscape of maternal visual culture.

To be frank, while I often use these types of acronyms when referring to my motherhood and my career life, I have no idea how to really define them. What exactly is a SAHM (stay at home mom) versus a WAHM (working at home mom)? Is there a difference? Does it mean that a WAHM is making some sort of financial contribution to her family while a SAHM simply works her ass off as well, just with no pay? As always, I think it is difficult to categorize what exactly these acronyms mean, and they certainly mean different things to different families. And placing a monetary value on what moms do or don't do is also a slippery slope. So, even though this post title implies that I know what I'm talking about here, or that perhaps I'm about to give some sage advice, don't be fooled. For those of you who have followed this blog previously, or know me in real life, you know I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. But, I'm happy to share my personal journey of motherhood and my career path and how I came to be a SAHM/WAHM.

A few years back (almost six to be exact), I was going to graduate school in Minnesota to get my masters degree in art history, with the intention of going into museum work. My husband, Eric, had a postdoctoral research position in chemistry at the University of Minnesota and in addition to being a full-time student, I also worked as an independent curator and part-time as a receptionist at a travel agency downtown Minneapolis. It barely paid the bills and the rent for our tiny one-bedroom apartment, but we decided to start our family. Little Lucy Valentine was born on a wild-weathered Midwestern spring day in 2004.

Thus began my introduction to motherhood and the world of being a working (both inside and outside the home) mama. I quit my job at the travel agency and took only night classes, so I could be with Lucy during the day and Eric could be with her at nights. I took no time off after her birth, and hand-pumped breastmilk in university bathrooms during class breaks. I strapped Lucy in the Baby Bjorn and toted her around the Twin Cities on extensive field research trips for my thesis, which I wrote at night after she went to bed, between the hours of 9pm-1am. Oh, how I remember that Amy fondly, the one that held on to her perfectionist ways and organizational mania. I was motivated and career-driven and determined to not only be a great mom, but KNEW I had too much to offer the art world to "just stay at home." Upon graduation, I was hired as the curator for the new downtown branch of the Minneapolis Public Library gallery.

(photo courtesy of the Sun Valley Center for the Arts)

About six months later, Eric got a position as a professor of chemistry at Boise State University and within two weeks I was flown out to Boise to interview for the position of Associate Curator of Art at this place. I was immediately offered the job, and we moved from Minneapolis to Boise in 2006, with our dream jobs secured. For the first time, we had to put Lucy in full-time daycare, but at the age of two-and-a-half, we knew she was ready to expand her social network. I, however, was surprised, as I sat in the parking lot of the museum bawling my eyes out every morning before work after dropping her off. For SIX WEEKS. I missed her, but we all got used to the routine. And our lives were fulfilling; I loved my work, was learning so much, and contributed a great deal to the Idaho art scene.

A year or two went by, and we decided to add to our family. Alice Virginia was born in April of 2008, to a four-year-old big sister who thought she was the cutest thing ever. I was lucky that the director of the museum granted my request for a five month maternity leave. While most of it was unpaid, of course, we made due with the lesser income, as it was what was best for our family at the time. I returned to work full-time, with both my babies at the same daycare center that we had grown to love. My lunch breaks were a precious, rushed hour spent nursing my baby Alice. Seven months later, in the spring of 2009, with absolutely no hint of a notion, I showed up to my beloved job one Monday morning to a surprise! You've been laid off! Much to my horror, my position had been eliminated, a result of a new director with new ideas, mixed in with a bit of an economic recession. I was told to leave immediately, and within thirty minutes I tossed some belongings in a box and left in a flurry of tears. I was devastated, to say the least. I didn't leave my house for two solid weeks, spending days chain smoking in my pajamas on the patio. And it got worse, as the news was printed on the front page of the Idaho Statesman a few days later. The layoff itself was a poorly handled - a sad, messy, terrible, awful situation that, unfortunately, dragged on for months. I lost friends, files, contacts, references, writing, books, ideas, and more. It was as though someone had died. I had lost my career. The one I was so good at. The one I deserved. The one I was still paying whopping student loan payments for each month. Only now I didn't have the income to pay them. Immediately, our financial livelihood was at stake, and Eric and I, in full on crisis mode, analyzed our money situation to see if we could still keep our house (a.k.a pay our mortgage). Second, that same day I pulled my girls from daycare and became a full-time SAHM for the first time in my life.

Like all moms, when faced with a crisis, you've got to pull your shit together in front of your kids. So, my doctor upped my anxiety medication and I tried to wait until 5pm for my first glass of wine. For their sake. The next six months were an emotional rollercoaster for me, mainly because I HAD A CAREER PATH AND THIS WASN'T IT. I had always known I wasn't made of the right components to simply care for my kids all. Day. Long. Suddenly, I had no choice. I was with them twenty-four hours a day, with little to no breaks. Ever. I had to succumb to their schedules, not mine. I couldn't wallow in my pity, depression, or pajamas. Gone were the days when I just worried about doing my own work, feeding my intellectual career goals, going out to lunch with colleagues and artists. Now I threw on jeans and flipflops, ate Cherrios for lunch, and spent afternoons at the park. And I soon discovered, IT WAS HARD. This SAHM gig is way more exhausting than the longest days I spent hanging and curating an exhibition at the museum. And, some days, I just don't feel like it. I want to call in sick. But I can't. So I let them eat popcorn in the bathtub with their cousins in the middle of the afternoon. Sometimes.


Eventually, I got used to it. And I got my shit together. Taking care of my family was my new full-time career and I took it by the reins. I joined a weekly playgroup and made wonderful new friends. I joined a book club, went to Jazzercize, and spent more time on my own artsy craftsy pursuits. And, while that over-achiever in me was thwarted a little, and my spirit surely dampened, I quickly morphed from a SAHM to a WAHM. This was mostly due to the fact that my unemployment pay was about to end, and we knew we couldn't survive financially without me bringing in some sort of income. So I picked some small, fun endeavors that allowed me bring home some bacon without compromising my time dedicated to my girls. The Downtown Boise Association paid me to create a winter window at a local business, which I also happened to win a nice cash prize for.

The City of Boise Department of Arts + History hired me on contract to do some curatorial consulting work for them, which is great. I do a bit of research, writing, helping with workshops, and have been organizing and installating the City's art collection. As an art historian and a curator, writing was something that I enjoyed and wanted to continue. I started this blog as a way to sort of chronicle my "new career" as a SAHM/WAHM and to keep my writing skills sharp. Boise Weekly's Idaho Arts Quarterly journal asked me on as a staff writer for them, and I've contributed a few pieces about the art scene in Idaho. I also write a monthly column at TreasuredValley.com called Off The Beaten Path. And I am involved in a slew of other community service/volunteer efforts locally that are unpaid. So while I'm contributing very, very little to my family's bank account, I think (or at least I hope) I'm adding something valuable to myself, my community, and my girls' idea of what being a mom is. But still, more often than not, I don't really know what I'm doing. I just try my best and take it day by day. Definitions (and acronyms) be damned.