About Kate

First, let me introduce you. 

This is me. 

Kate. 

But aside from my parents, pretty much everyone else calls me Katie. 

But I don't mind if you call me Kate. 

This is my lover. My main-squeeze. My baby-daddy, husband, bug-killer, keeper of my sanity. And he's pretty cute, too. 

This is our son. Our little baby. He's pretty much the light of our lives. 

Except... he's not that little anymore...

Now that we're acquainted....

I started this blog as a former complete-and-total-undomesticated-twenty-something-year-old. And I'm not joking here when I say undomesticated... I once had to call my mom to figure out how to cook spaghetti noodles ("Umm.... you boil them", she said. True story. And if my memory serves me correctly, I still messed them up. I remember them being quite... well, chewy.) My husband (who I often refer to as 'B') and I ate out a lot. Like every meal. I only kept Little Debbie cupcakes in the cupboard for snacks and our refrigerator hosted mainly condiments with the occasional box of leftover take-out. 

Then I got pregnant. And one day, B came home and asked me if I would like to be a stay-at-home mom. 

Umm.... what?

At first I protested greatly... I liked working. I enjoyed holding a job. And, in case he forgot, I reminded him how terrible I would be at doing the housework (I loathe doing the dishes and avoid folding clean laundry like it's the plague) but he told me to think about it and the further along in my pregnancy I got, and the more I fell in love with my unborn baby, the more appealing staying at home seemed. 

(I had such a little bump but, gosh, do I miss that belly...)

And then we had him. And I begged and pleaded with B to let me take him up on his offer and never have to put our little boy in a daycare, ever. Of course, I didn't have to beg and plead... B was all for it and 100% supportive (obviously... I mean, it was his idea). 

It's weird what becoming a mommy can do to you. You change. Like, you're still the same person but not really. During the first few days of his life it seemed like I had had him forever and daydreamed of making him Sunday morning cinnamon rolls and homemade pizza on rainy days and having nightly family dinners. Not only that, but both B and I grew up with moms' that cooked. And they are good cooks at that. Some of my best memories are around the dinner table with my family. Was I going to deny our son of this because I didn't know how to boil water? 

No. 

And so I set out on a mission. I would learn how to cook. But I wasn't going to stop there. I was going to learn how to craft and (gasp!) even garden. (Both of those may seem easy to the average girl but I struggle to color in between the lines most days and I've killed many a plants. Emphasis on the 'many'.)

All of the recipes that I have found have been adapted to my own tastes. My husband is a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy and so I sometimes have to dumb down man-ify recipes to his taste. However, I'll try to include a link or a credit where the original recipe was found. 

And with that I invite you to follow me on this journey...