Who I am has changed since I started this little blog 4+ years ago so here’s an updated “about me” so you know what you’re getting yourself into. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
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Who am I?

Like I even know the answer to that one. But, let me give you an idea of who I am. In two words: a mess.

I grew up Mormon and have not seen the inside of the Mormon church since the day I turned 18. Mormons, in general, are great people. But I wasn’t so faithful. I’m not sure if it was the fact that a bishop once told me I’m going to hell for not believing or the “no coffee” rule that led me astray, but I no longer consider myself Mormon. And let’s just leave it at that.

Speaking of coffee, it’s my number one vice. I would divorce my husband if I could I am divorced so now I can have a meaningful relationship with the mermaid on the Starbucks cup. I also swear way too much and like it. I have a terrible mouth which my two-year-old has all of my boys have now inherited. This both scares me and makes me quite proud at the same time.

I used to write a monthly column for the local newspaper on parenting inconveniences before they ran out of money and I was laid-off and then promptly received hate mail and totally relevant advice from 80 year old men. I have my own photography business and do weddings, portraits and events. I guess I’m still considered a SAHM – a title I loathe. I guess you could say I’m a desperate housewife in the sense that I am desperate to get out of the house…wife. In hindsight, I’ve always been a WAHM and still am… who now likes to stay in the house… minus the being a wife part.

And oh yeah, I’ve got three young boys, far too close in age, that I have given life to and now pass on my sarcasm and hatred for inconsiderate people on a daily basis. I’m not a perfect parent. *cough* But I try to be a good parent. On good days, my boys amaze me. On bad days, my boys amaze me. I’m starting to think there is some sort of science behind the “getting-back-what-you-gave-your-parents” theory. Ugh.

I am no longer married. [Rest of paragraph redacted!]

I suck at cooking and don’t really have much of a desire to be good at it. (A real estate agent was once showing me houses and trying to sell a particular one by pushing the “large gourmet kitchen” which, for me and only me, was a total waste of space.) There are a few things I can make, and I do attempt making a home cooked meal at least five four nights of the week, but it’s not always fabulous. Or edible.

At least once per meal, I have to call my friend Tami (who is BETTER than Martha, BTW) and ask her some dumb question like, “Does a teaspoon mean a heaping teaspoon or just level or… which one is the teaspoon again? The big one or little one?” We won’t even discuss the Easter I ruined for my kids when I was in charge of hard boiling all 60 eggs. Let’s just say there weren’t any egg salad sandwiches to be had.

I also have a tendency to burn myself in many of my cooking attempts. Reference: The Fire of 2003 and/or The Chocolate Fondue Explosion Using a Homemade Double-Boiler. I could go on but I might embarrass myself.

I am good at laundry… in the sense that I can handle washing cold only, don’t use fabric softner (when do you put that in anyway?) and never seem to get around to actually folding it.

One might call me undomestic(ated).

Other things you should know about me: I frequently go off on tangents and never return. I try to pass myself off as “tenacious” instead of ungrateful. I love my kids to no end, but that doesn’t mean I can’t complain about them. I’m not warm and fuzzy, I’m cold and sarcastic. I don’t like showing affection – ever – but I am very emotional at times.

Told you I’m a big ol’ mess. But if you can deal, I hope you’ll stick around and not take things too seriously.

‘Cause honestly, I’m just doin’ the best I can… When I feel like it.

~ Megan
email me: undomesticdiva(at)gmail(dot)com