Megan

About Me

My husband calls me a soccer mom, despite my distaste for the name. I'm told that the term doesn't literally mean a 'mother of a soccer-playing child' rather, it's descriptive of one's style. When we lived in a small community of hippies I really didn't see the correlation. I didn't mind wearing the same pants every day or only having 4 tank tops that I wore for the last three months of my pregnancy. Makeup? For who? My friends who hadn't showered in the past 3 days? But now...we have left the redwoods of Mendocino County. This is Saratoga. This is where the neighbor's home is on the market for 4 Million dollars. This is where we face serious changes. Thanks to Banana Republic and Gap's extraordinary sales, I'm now a somewhat trendier mom who stays at home with the baby while Marc goes to the office everyday. I already listened to Dave Matthews, John Mayer and Coldplay. Every once in a while it's Al Green or Stevie Wonder when there's romance in the air. And makeup, well, a dash of blush and a hint of eye shadow is normal now. This is a fresh start. With a 3 month old baby and the sweetest husband in the world, we set out for new adventures. Now in Saratoga, soon in Chicago.

When your science teacher smashed a frozen rose with a hammer, did you warm the petals to bring them back to life?

Ahh, Mr. Huffsey. He never smashed a frozen rose with a hammer, but he was the odd yet interesting creator of the cleaning agent, 409.

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Megan's Blogs

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View this  Blog On becoming a soccer mom