Heidi Richardson Evans (that is to say, me, who just decided a third person profile is a little too formal) is a first time mama in her my early thirties. I have perpetual dark circles around my eyes. If I am home, there is a two-ish toddler attached to me, most likely at a breast but occasionally just on a hip. She has honey colored curls and is about the size and weight of a hummingbird. We call her Mollybird, but not because of the hummingbird thing, although it's a cute coincidence that she's eensy. 
I am a born- and- bred- and- only- managed- to- leave- for- about- ten- months- one- time West Virginian with a love (pretty hills)/hate (social conservatism) attitude about my home. My marriage will be four years old this year, and our relationship's entering the seven year itch. We are both creative types struggling to become business types so we both have day jobs while we build our graphic design and photography business.
Lexie is like my Gail, if I were Oprah, and Oprah had never met Gail face-to-face. She (Lexie, not Oprah or Gail. Keep up already) introduced me to the term wabi sabi, and I'm rather shocked at this, only because it's a term from Japanese art applied often to ceramics and guess what art medium I majored in. The incredible idea that parenting is like pottery- where the cracks and smudges from the kiln (or um, life) are actually desirable is a freaking revelation to me. My journaling here is a journey (Dude: journey? journal? Is it meaningful or just annoyingly sound-repetitive?) toward an attitude of mindfulness and celebrating the idea of Wabi Sabi Mamahood.
I am a born- and- bred- and- only- managed- to- leave- for- about- ten- months- one- time West Virginian with a love (pretty hills)/hate (social conservatism) attitude about my home. My marriage will be four years old this year, and our relationship's entering the seven year itch. We are both creative types struggling to become business types so we both have day jobs while we build our graphic design and photography business.
Lexie is like my Gail, if I were Oprah, and Oprah had never met Gail face-to-face. She (Lexie, not Oprah or Gail. Keep up already) introduced me to the term wabi sabi, and I'm rather shocked at this, only because it's a term from Japanese art applied often to ceramics and guess what art medium I majored in. The incredible idea that parenting is like pottery- where the cracks and smudges from the kiln (or um, life) are actually desirable is a freaking revelation to me. My journaling here is a journey (Dude: journey? journal? Is it meaningful or just annoyingly sound-repetitive?) toward an attitude of mindfulness and celebrating the idea of Wabi Sabi Mamahood.
