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My name is Fred. Not really, but let’s go with it.

Zeke, who oh-so kindly contributes per my plea because she feels sorry for me, is my identical twin who really is the sweetest thing on earth when she’s not throwing me through doors.


Momming and the healthiest, best, purest mineral makeup. Sometimes this and that and the stuff that ought to go unmentioned, too.


Because I’m an introvert who is deathly afraid of speaking to living entities that walk on two feet. My therapist said a blog would be a good outlet to express my inner workings.


Sort of.

I was knocked up, had quit teaching, and realized I was telling too many people about how my cat produces over sixty unique sounds on any given day. It was time to do something with my time, even if it meant waste it more efficiently and promote my business more shamelessly.


I think of a blog as a healthy cocktail of the desire to outreach, belong, relate, make a difference, or, at the very least, sound important. (Ha. But seriously. That’s why I’m blogging.)


How what? How does one procure a date with Mark Wahlberg? How does oneheave a human being out of her lady parts without so much as breaking a sweat? I duno. Tell me when you figure it out. I find one of those more pressing than the other. Which do you prioritize?

How do I decide what to write about is something I can kind of answer. It has to do with my passions beyond tending to dirty diapers and finding a cure for Midwestern tick epidemics. I love writing, ruminating, going rounds with my twink, and smelling bad. To balance the smelling-bad thing, I like looking halfway alive on the days I brush my hair. Check out our non-toxic makeup line for more info.

Want MORE? You know you do.

Press: Press? Well, my bench was pretty impressive in my high school weightlifting class, but I’m guessing now I could press a handful of medium-ish babies or half a twin. Be scared, very scared.

Facebook: No dislike button . . . but maybe a sympathy like?

Twitter: I don’t text but when it’s a string of expletives to my husband upon finding out that the 12 pregnancy tests’ two lines weren’t telling me I equaled unpregnant . . . and I’m supposed to talk in texts to anybody who’ll listen?


Instagram: Is this, like, Facebook’s I-have-a-15-IQ cousin? Mmk then. Let me go photograph something terribly interesting like the lint in my bellybutton.

Flickr: Uh . . .

Pinterest: Check out our board for baby/kid stuffblogging resourcesnon-toxic green-ish products, and cunning-ness like this:

mom humor

Shop: Non-toxic high-micron (non-DNA altering) mineral makeup and organic beauty products are my if-I’m-an-expert-at-anything-this-is-it area.

YouTube: I really wish they named it BoobTube: The almost unknown video host would be so well-known right now. Find Zeke and me and our (covered) boobs in videos like how to swaddle your baby, and for the healthy makeup and beauty products you absolutely need, here. For the non-covered boobs, go— Oh. No. That one doesn’t exist. I don’t think . . .

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