Hi there! Thanks for creeping on me. My name is Megan and this is my space. That’s me in the photo… the tired-looking one. (Not the sleeping one, the other one. The one who is definitely not sleeping, hardly ever.) The two angels posing sweetly beside me are the ones who’ve graciously bestowed me with the honorable title of “mommy”.
Let me start by saying I love kids. All of them. I worked in education for ten years before meandering full-time into mommy-hood. Kids have taught me more than I can ever say, with their sweet innocence, boundless curiosity, and bottomless love. Being able to create and discover these little humans is by far the greatest blessing and greatest accomplishment of my life. And having the choice to stay home with them during the day is an incredible privilege. This time is sacred and precious and so very fleeting.
That being said, there are days where you may find me locked in the bathroom with a box of thin mints and a book. Or desperately making conversation with the UPS delivery guy just to have one minute of adult conversation in the midst of the endless stream of My Little Ponies and the lullaby station on Pandora.
This space has been a long time coming. Here’s why: I love to write. I’ve outgrown a few blogging “homes” to get here. Most recently, I was at Open-Ended Parenting where my intention was to write about raising authentic humans. It was a place to share my deep thoughts and lessons learned and beautiful moments. I worked hard to write clearly and thoughtfully and it was a blog that I was proud of. Think of it like a professional portfolio of my best work.
Unfortunately, parenting/life isn’t just a collection of beautiful moments and profound lessons. It’s messy and hard and crazy. Sometimes it’s brilliant like poetry, but sometimes it’s brutally honest in an ugly-cry kind of way.
For a while, I tried to keep the two separate. I started Keeper of the Snacks as a place to come with the “mess” that I didn’t want to post in my “pretty” blog. But this quickly became my happy place–like my favorite recliner or my sweatpants. Soon, this is where I was spending most of my time and energy. And because, with two children and another on the way, I only have a limited amount of time energy, my other blogging space quickly became neglected.
So I combined them. All the posts that were originally on Open-Ended Parenting can now be found here. This is a collection of the real me–the one you’d find at a job interview, the one you’d see out on a fancy date, and the one you’d find at 8 a.m. on a Monday when the children are already winning for the week.
As someone who has openly written about living an authentic life and raising authentic children, it feels good to have finally found a space be my own authentic self–where I can be curious and thoughtful in one post and in the next announce that one or more of my children are a-holes. Because if you’re in this space with me, then maybe you, too, understand what it’s like to love little people sometimes to the point of insanity.
So this is me; the real, the exhausted, the frustrated, the blessed, the angry… the usually grateful and almost always sarcastic, often ranting and rarely cooking me. I’m turning thirty-one this year. My six year old loves Barbies and swimming and asked me if it was snack time no less than twenty times this afternoon, starting approximately ten minutes after lunch ended. She has a big heart and a bigger personality. She spends every other weekend with her dad. Her little sister graced us with her presence last January. Even as a baby, she has a unique fierceness and a smile that can light up the darkest day. She loves copying her big sister and all other forms of toddler madness. She’ll be upgrading to “middle child” in September when baby girl #3 arrives. My husband is my partner and teammate on this crazy journey; he is intensely sweet and endlessly patient, and is the perfect balance to my fire. He stands bravely in the chaos of a house full of strong women and somehow manages to ground us all. According to my oldest, he is “as good as a rainbow in the sky.”
And I’m me: mom, wife, Keeper of the Snacks, and writer of this–our story–the good, the bad, and the days where the living room is covered in Cinnamon Toast Crunch.