Disclaimer: I don’t want this to become a blog about parenting but it probably will be because I have no fucking life currently outside of parenting. This post is a reflection on new parents. But first, here is some evidence that I am not the same person I used to be.

When I was younger I owned a rather large collection of DVDs. I can’t remember who gave them to me but my collection started when a cousin or someone’s friends daughter gave me all their shit garbage DVDs they wanted to throw out. In the midst of scratched copies of Leo’s Romeo and Juliet (best movie in the world) and other hits, there was this weird movie called Waking Life. I figured it was a cartoon for adults and you had to get really fucking stoned to appreciate it. So I got super stoned and watched it with whatever boyfriend I had at the time. It was a lot of philosophical bullshit, most of which I tuned out. One part caught my attention though and I would later have this conversation or versions of it many times in my life. I might even say I think about it at least once a month. It was two cartoon celebrities talking about how the cells in your body die and reproduce themselves all day all the time. Every 7 years (I’ve heard various time periods) all the cells in your body have all died and reproduced so that you are biologically not the same person you used to be. This fucking freaks me out. I know mentally I have matured (calm down Jen and mom, I am still very immature and laugh at farts and big poops) and with maturation comes change. But to think that I’m literally a different person is crazy. Every molecule in my body is not the same as it was 7 years ago. And here is proof: Karlin and I moved to Fruity 5 years ago roughly and bought this big gravel pit on the mountain. It was traditionally the neighbourhood kids hang out and toboggan hill. Once the Coffins threw their big house on the property, the hill was closed. I did not want children on my property. Ew. I honestly didn’t want to see toboggan tracks in the snow because it was just such a beautiful snowy paradise Christmas card.

We have a dope piece of property ok? So why would I want the sound of children playing joyfully interrupting whatever witchery I was up to. I seriously felt like the wicked witch of Area A but also gave no fucks. Children=HARD PASS.

Well. It happened. The evil bitch on the hill felt overcome by Christmas joy and opened the hill up for business on Sunday. I invited literally everyone I knew with kids to come over and toboggan and have a bonfire. I even made a big ass crockpot of hot chocolate and marshmallows for the snotty children. The result? It was a fucking blast! Everyone was like “oh it’s because you have a kid now” and that might be part of it but Archer slept inside the entire time and I was just giddy watching all the kids play together.

So I guess the Colleen from 5 years ago physically and mentally was a different person. Is that what growing up is? Recognizing change over the years? I know some people go through life not questioning anything and not putting things together in a broader picture but I am not one of those people. I look for patterns and loop holes and hidden doors. I think this is one of them. When you can look at your personal being and recognize significant change in behaviour there is a reason for it. When you notice something, small or large, coincidences or anything that catches your interest, I think it it the universe dangling carrots in your face leading you down the path you’re meant to be on. So pay attention. Having all these kids over and watching them play made me so fucking excited for the future. I saw Archie and his buds building forts and toboggan jumps and lighting fires and breaking arms. I felt a little insane as I stared at all these kids with a gleam in my eye. Don’t mind me, just dead staring your children while they play. Creep.

So I have changed. Old Colleen would not have tolerated toboggan paths on her pristine mountain side. New Colleen wants to beg neighborhood parents to send their kids over to make more paths. Don’t get me wrong, current Colleen loathes the thought of all these children inside my home. Stay the fuck outside. Keep your wet boots and snotty noses the fuck out of my palace. But who knows, maybe in 5 years I will open up a day home! (FUCKING KIDDING, RELAX)

Well I was going to write about the absurdity of new parents and not knowing what the fuck is going on ever and how crazy it is that as children, we thought our parents knew what they were doing when in reality they were just as clueless. I was going to write about that. But Karlin probably thinks I have fallen into the toilet by now and I can’t possibly fake an even longer poop so it will have to wait for another moment.

Follow your interests and anything that catches your thoughts! It’s all part of your destinnnnyyyyy (echoing voice)

Peace out, A town.


Who the hell is Crawly?

It’s been 2 years since I wrote a post on my little ol’ blog. Crawly? Haven’t heard that name in a while. The name is MAMAMAMAMAMMAMAMAM now.

So I got pregnant. It was the fucking worst. Start to finish. Highly do not recommend. I made a little baby boy though and we named him Archer after deciding every other boy name on the planet was terrible. He is the cutest but also the most neediest thing in the world. Who knew?

Luckily, Mother Nature is smart AF and made human babies super cute so you wouldn’t stuff them back inside.

He is a huge baby (in terms of being whiney and in literal size.. he’s 24 lbs and only 8 months old). As a result of him being large and also having his arm wrapped around his neck, forcing him to meet his momma in superman pose, I quit teaching yoga for the time being and focused on letting my body heal. He did a number on me the little fucker.

But I love him. And yes it’s true. You can’t possibly know the love you can have for anything until you see those little eyes peering up at you. He is my twin. I might as well have made him myself. No help from Karlin. He is a miniature me. We should have named him Colleen Jr. but only weirdos name their kids after them. *cough Clay sr and Clay jr cough*

So I had a baby. Entered into motherhood kicking and screaming. Hated it. Loved it. Hated my body. Loved his little rolly polly bod. Loved being home with him. Loathed being a stay at home mom. It’s been a time.

Over the months I started getting more and more restless. Being a full-time mom ain’t for me. I knew it wouldn’t be. I don’t love kids. I love my own, but I’m not that mom who wants to be planning sensory activities and playing trucks on the floor and singing songs at Mother Goose at the library on Wednesday’s. So an opportunity came up and I applied for and accepted a new full-time job that starts in January. I am terrified but also can’t wait. It seems like I will get my life back to a certain degree. Just eating lunch alone without someone grabbing me will be heavenly.

Cue mom guilt. I’m supposed to want to stay at home and make sure he has the best childhood yada yada but guess what: you know what else is awesome? Money. I know it can’t buy you happiness but I’d like to find out myself thanks k bye.

New Years resolutions are bullshit but for the sake of blogging, here are mine:

1) start writing here again because it’s good for me

2) not let the mom guilt consume me

That is all for now. Here’s some more pics of my clone.

2016: I survived with minor bruises

What a fucking year. I am lucky to say that I survived because so many people did not. We lost a lot of animal friends, people friends, and a lot of family this year. There were hundred of meltdowns. Tons of disappointments. Many moments of sheer “FUCK YOU WORLD”.

Why are some years so full of shit and burden and death? I will tell you why. You may not want to hear this though because when I am drowning in self pity I don’t want to hear this. But here it comes:

Everything happens for a reason, man.

That’s it. Plain and simple. If you are looking around at other people’s lives on facebook and Instagram wondering why you aren’t married, having kids, looking fresh to death, eating kale and selling FitTea, here is the simple explanation: It’s just not your time. It is not in your cards. Let me give you a prime example:

My mom is trying to make the move west to live in the same town as me. She put her house up for sale with the most incompetent realtor on the planet. As a result, she had shitty people coming to see her house who lead her to believe she had sold her place, but it never happened. She was devastated. All she wanted was to move this year. So she got another realtor. Yes her house sat on the market all summer with no activity, but it was for the best because her new realtor has found some pretty promising leads and circumstances have changed. Mom now wants a bigger house than the one she previously had her eye on in my town. So if her place had sold with the shitty realtor, yes she would be here by now, but would still be faced with selling a home she didn’t want to be in. So in my eyes, it was just about timing. She wasn’t meant to sell the house until just the right time. She was also meant to stay in her house because her mother died this year and until that happened, I don’t truly think she was ready to leave.

It’s all about timing. Everyone is freaking saying how this was the worst year but I am choosing to go the higher road. I am choosing to believe that these life lessons, although seemingly harsh, were meant to make us stronger. More capable of taking control of our lives and figuring out what is important. Now I am a very emotional person. I wear my heart not on my sleeve but literally on the end of my nose. Everyone can see my emotions. So in the moment of something shitty happening, yes I lose my fucking cool. But always make sure you sit back, maybe a few days later, and reflect upon what happened. Try to figure out why this happened and what you can learn from it. Your attitude can literally change your environment.

Try and treat people you meet with love and dignity. Try not to be judgmental because you never know their story. If you have a rude cashier or server or bus driver, just remember that everyone has shit. MY first instinct is to think :”Wow what a fucking hag”. But perhaps as a New Years resolution, try to change your perspective and send them kind thoughts and energy. Even just smile at them and tell them to have a good day. I could change their whole day.

One of Karlin’s sisters best friends was killed suddenly on her birthday here in town 2 weeks ago and it was such a tragic loss. To say that it was meant to be is extremely hurtful for a grieving family. So what can we try and take away from this? I decided that the only lesson I could learn from this was to live each day like it was your last. Cut out the small shit that you obsess over. Make a list of things that are important to you and really spend some time prioritizing that list.

Mine would look something like this:

  1. Ok the obvious :food, shelter, water, etc.
  2. Family/ Friends
  3. Biggie smalls
  4. My happiness
  5. Kraft dinner/pizza/tacos
  6. My health
  7. Wealth
  8. Nice leggings
  9. Cute nailpolish
  10. Number of likes on Instagram

Ok the end is largely a joke but you get the point. Make sure the top of your list is satisfied before you start to worry about the bottom of the list. Life is just too fucking short. Put your time and energy into doing things that make your heart sing. Yes, you have to work to make money to survive. But try to find happiness in the work you do. If you aren’t happy, do something about it.

We all have the ability to reciprocate and spread love so let’s add that to our list of New Years Resolutions. This world is becoming so fucked up (may I remind you of the 2016 clown invasion? And no I’m not taking about Clinton and Trump). We can heal at least our immediate environment by consciously choosing to be kind rather than right.

Now, my previous post was about the Wild Rose herbal cleanse so I will follow up with this: I lost 5 pounds, felt really good, but as soon as those 12 days were over it was back to eating whatever I wanted. So zero lessons learned. Mind you it was the holidays so perhaps I will try again.

2016 taught me how to start my own business, build a yoga studio without beheading my husband, raise a beautiful little human (ok dog but he’s more human than anything), and how to be prepared for emergencies.

So let’s all just take a deep fucking breath… and hold it for 4 more days until it’s 2017! All the best in the New Year kiddies 😘

Wild Rose Cleanse

Ok I’m on Day 8 of the Wild Rose Cleanse and I’ve been reading a lot of testimonials and I’m a bit confused. 

1) Everyone talks about how they shit non-stop. That’s just not the case for me? I mean I wake up and poop. It’s not pretty, but it’s a poop.. then I am usually good until the next day. Sometimes I have  another one in the late afternoon but not usually? Maybe I’m just so fucking healthy there’s no toxins to get rid of? Pfffft

2) People talk about the aches and pains they have like they are getting the flu. I’ve literally felt nothing like this. I’ve been grumpy AF because I want a cheeseburger and some fucking wine, but no flu symptoms. 

3) People are boasting they have lost 10-15 pounds on this cleanse. Ok I’m also on my period so maybe this has something to do with it but I’ve lost 2.5 pounds. In 8 days. That’s nothing to write home about and I’ve been following the diet to a T. I just read one where this chick caved on day 5 and drank every day for the rest of it and ate pizza and she’s like “tee hee I still lost 10 pounds” and I’m like YOU BITCH.

4) “I lost all my cravings for sugar and bad foods”. Are you serious? How? I caught myself staring at my dog today thinking about what he’d taste like with cheese on him. I need cheese in my life and small amounts of brown sugar. It’s what I’m most excited to eat. There’s not an hour that goes by without my mind creating a food fantasy. So shut up all you Internet liars saying you have no cravings near the end. (I will update you on day 12 if this miraculous event happens). 

5) “There’s lots to eat”. This is true but it’s all mega boring and you can’t put sauce on it because every god damn sauce has sugar or vinegar in it. 

So I think I have more energy and my belly is definetly flatter, but this has been a testament to my will power. I don’t think I’ve been this sober in 10 years. I guess that’s a good thing. But it’s super boring, dude. We have been really productive with all this spare time though. Amazing what you will clean when you’re avoiding the kitchen/liquor cabinet. 
I took before measurements so I’ll post my final results on Saturday morning (post shit). You’re welcome!

I’m dreaming of white wine at Christmas


I feel like I never have enough time to blog anymore about my days which sucks because they have been very exciting as of late. So instead of trying to write these long winded blogs I decided to just do highlight reels so I feel sane. August an the beginning of September were just whirlwinds for me. Mom came for two weeks after not seeing her for over a year. A fucking year. Much deserved visit. We went to Koocanusa for the weekend to Dave and Jen’s camp and went on a poker rally.


And just when you thought there couldn’t be any more camo, we came home and packed up for the Flathead to go hunting.

We didn’t see anything legal to shoot so it was slightly disappointing but the season is still young! Not that I have any time…

Upon arriving home I started a new job as a Real Estate Assistant here in town which is turning out to be just perfect for me. I can still teach in the mornings and evenings and let little doggie out in the afternoons.

So last weekend we decided to go to Duncan Lake to Jays cabin and hike up to the Macbeth Icefields. How hard can hiking be? It’s just walking right?

Wrong. Jesus christ I thought I was going to die. 9 hours later..

This was probably the most challenging thing, physically and mentally, that I have ever made myself do. I have been on long hikes before but this was torture. Straight up boulders and tree roots and stumps. Straight down breaking your knees with every step. But I fucking did it. I only cried for the last 30 minutes of the trail! Shin splints. You bastards.

We were literally walking along a mountain ridge. It was terrifying.

Suffice to say, I am pretty much done with being outdoors for the year. Seriously. Nature, you are real pretty and all, but I am ok with hibernation for the rest of the year I think. I will just be an observer. From my window.

Onto my next venture, I am opening my studio in 13 fucking days. Holy shit. Our to-do list is fucking huge but it is good motivation. I can’t believe what a transformation the basement has seen in under a year. It is truly incredible to think that what was once a joke/dream of opening a studio in Fruitvale is actually manifesting.

Gah, I am running out of time now but I will write sooner than later! I need to pencil in some Crawly Land time once a week I think. Along with meditation time, yoga time, running time, food prep time, Biggie Smalls time, work time, cleaning time, class building time, TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME.


Finally I feel like I am living again 🙂





(Hi Jenny)




Yoga class etiquette 

So I’m attending a tin yoga class which is a fucking treat for me because as a yoga teacher it’s hard to get to a real class that I’m not teaching myself because I rarely want to do more than one yoga class a day. 

I walk into the studio that I’m also teaching at and chat with the other teachers and make my way into the room. 

It’s quiet. 

The teacher has set up her mat with some candles and what not. A few other ladies are lying on bolsters enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. I arrange my Mat and collect some props and sit down and start to chill. I lie down on a bolster and am listening to the calm specifically chosen spa music. Feeling zen as fuck. I am totally happy with my choice to attend a yin class because I never do that and am feeling like I need some nice slow deep stretch. Settling in.

In walks some fucking guy. Late 50s. I hear him come into the lobby and loudly talk to the teacher in the reception area about his entire week. I internally roll my eyes while they are closed. 

He bursts into the studio. Comes right beside me and literally throws his bag on the ground making me jump. Then he takes his mat and like smacks it on the ground. Clearly that didn’t smooth it out so he picks it up and again smacks the fucking mat on the ground like he’s spreading a bed sheet only with a large heavy plastic mat. Ew.

THEN. As if he’s not being obnoxious enough. Takes out his probable iphone2 and starts madly texting someone.. with the keyboard clicks enabled. Ew. Like writes a short novel to someone. I hear the little beep that he’s rapidly sending multiple texts to his people. I’m annoyed. 

He sighs and says, “OK TIME TO YOGA”. Then he loudly unzippers his bag, which I’m positive is made of chains and lead, and then settles in. 

Oh but first he needs to get up and stretch and then locate his janitor size set of keys in his pocket and DROP (I kid you not) DROP his keys on the floor. 

Guys. Don’t be this guy. Please. I can’t stress it enough. Come in and shut up. Some people use this time as “me time”. Not “me and some guy time”. 

The Art of Meditation

A year ago today if you had asked me my thoughts on meditation I probably would have had zero thoughts. I have never considered meditation as a form of therapy or wellbeing. It was something that hippies and monks did, right? 

So wrong. I have been learning more and more about meditation through my yoga practice but also aside. The benefits are HUGE. Some claim it can even cure illnesses. It decreases stress, relieves anxiety, and promotes mindfulness which our society generally lacks. 

But how does one meditate? What is the goal? What is the technique? That’s the beautiful thing about meditation. It depends on the individual. So I wanted to talk about what meditation is to me and how I meditate. 

First of all, I don’t sit crossed legged with my spine straight and my eyes closed. I can.. But after about 5 minutes I get achey and uncomfortable and can’t focus on anything but my legs falling asleep or my bag starting to sag. So I lie down. It’s my jam. I get a little blanket too. I pretty much prepare for a nap. 

Then I just close my eyes and listen. I listen to all the external noise around me. Biggie eating my couch, dogs barking, birds and wind and everything that’s going on outside me. I take note of all these sounds and make a mental list, then I literally visualize me taking this list and putting it off to the side of my head. Then I start to tune into the internal blabber of my own voice. 

This is where I find meditation challenging. The art of listening to your own internal dialogue as a bystander. Letting yourself think of whatever you’re thinking, acknowledging the thought, and letting it move on. Sometimes my inner voice is so loud and so busy it’s draining. Other days it’s like a calm Sunday in Fruitvale. There’s an occasional thought, then just the awareness of my breath. 

Which leads to the best part. Focusing on your breath. Listening to your inhale and taking note how it makes your belly and your chest rise, then observing how your body falls when you exhale. I listen and note the quality of my breath and see if there’s a way to take bigger breaths. Sometimes this is my meditation and after 10 minutes of that, I’m zen as fuck. 

Other days, when my thoughts are running fucking rampant, I focus on my breath, get distracted by thought, and as soon as I let that thought go I focus on the “space” that follows that thought’s exit. That nothingness. The key is to not judge your thoughts. For example, if I am distracted by what I’m going to eat for dinner, I simply say “this can wait, later thought” and as soon as it leaves, I’m left with this blank space. But I can’t think “oh here’s a blank space” because then it’s another thought and I’m back to saying “ok good job but let’s not think about the blank space”. So it’s that fine balance of just being present and knowing there’s space without saying it or thinking it. Just knowing. From like a deep part in your mind and body. The space doesn’t have to be long or stretched out. That doesn’t give it quality. The more I practice the longer I can make these blank spaces go for longer though and THAT is what I’m working on. 

So after I meditate, I feel present. I don’t worry about the rest of my day or what happened previously in the day or week or in my life. I just get this chill “AH-HA” moment where everything just seems perfect how it is. I become mesmerized by simple things and I just feel so fucking happy it would make a goth kid puke. 

So that’s how I meditate. That’s why I meditate. I don’t know if I’m doing it right or wrong and I don’t give a shit. If I could live in that present state for the rest of my life I think my world would change so that’s what I’m working for! 

How do other people meditate? Let me know! I want to eat up all the information I can. 


3 Daily Practices I’ve Adopted

I’ve been making a lot of self discoveries lately. Maybe because I’m turning 30 this year and I’ve been reflecting on where the fuck I’m going to go from here. Maybe because I’ve just figured out how to slow things down. I don’t know. But things have started changing and I’ve made a very mental and physical attempt to find spontaneity within my routine. I have been listening to a lot of quiet places and a lot of loud places and have felt this overwhelming need to make more space in my head for all these new sensations and ideas. I have been picking little.. rituals? I guess you can call them rituals. Little things from a lot of different places that just resonate with me. And I’ve been practicing them every day and I think I’m becoming a way happier person than I ever imagined possible. I thought I’d share just a few of them.

Wake up and be still in the morning.

I found myself in this habit of rolling over and grabbing my phone and slipping into the land of social media. I’d lie in bed for at least half an hour just scrolling through shit and all of this, whether I was aware of it or not, was dictating how I felt all day. Most the time, it was shitty or guilty. Shitty that I went another day without hitting the gym and how beautiful my idols looked on IG. Guilty that I ate a burger when I saw pictures of beautiful salads and vegan shit. Lonely when I saw pictures of my friends far away having a fucking blast without me. It really started to take a toll on me. So I’ve made an effort to wake up, roll out of bed, put the kettle on, let the puppy out and then I just sit with my tea. Sometimes I do some yoga. Sometimes I just sit and enjoy the silence. I wait until I’ve worked out and eaten before I look at my phone and am finding I am way more motivated and ambitious. 

Drink hot lemon tea.

It’s my jam. I’m borderline obsessed. Supposedly it gets your poop machine rolling and is good for all your physiological systems. It wakes me up and gives me a possibly false feeling of being healthy. Maybe it does nothing? I don’t know. Just do it.

The grass is fine right where you are.

This is sort of ironic because I literally live in a gravel pit with no grass. But I am consciously making an effort not to set myself up in the following way: IF I do this, THEN I will be happy/satisfied. Things are pretty damn awesome right this moment. It’s great to have goals and plans for the future. I really want to get my yoga business running and have plans on how I’m going to get to that point. But I am also really fucking happy right this moment. I have food, shelter, and so much fucking love it’s grosssss. Some people don’t have any of that. So instead of making lists and formulas of ways to get to the greener grass so that I can be happy, I make lists of things that I already have accomplished and stare at that for a while. Good work, Colleen. You fucking rule. Yes I would be happy to lose a few pounds. Make a million dollars. But a bunch of new clothes. But my gut keeps me warm. I’ve got all that I need. And if I wanted more outfit choices, I could just lose a few pounds and then all my old clothes would fit again. So I have everything I need right now. Except literal grass.  

Anywho, as I am writing this we have contractors installing beautiful cork floors in the studio. I might explode with joy. I will post pics once they are done but here are some befores:

I am going to go get some sun on my see through ass and drink some rosé. 🙏🏻💋🕶🍷🌮💁ૐ

Before my life is ruined.

I took a little hiatus with my posts due to a certain little furry creature that invaded my life. Having a puppy is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I can’t believe people have babies. I can barely keep my shit together with a puppy. And I can at least throw him in a kennel when I’m really pissed off at him. What do new moms do when they are annoyed with their new babies though? It sounds ridiculous but as much as I love the little guy, Biggie Smalls has made me reconsider having kids. Which lead me and Ayns to a discussion on the cruelty of women’s bodies. It seems unfair that we have to be sober for 9 months, ruin our bodies, and do all of this before 40.

I am turning 30 this year and let me tell you, it is a good time to be alive. I have infinite possibilities ahead of me. I am wise enough to make grown up decisions (although I always consult with mother just to be sure I’m not being a dickhead or an idiot). I have disposable income to a certain extent. I live in a beautiful house I built with my husband and family. I have great friends and a pretty wicked family. I am literally fulfilling my dreams of building a yoga studio and teaching yoga for a living. I have the cutest dog on the fucking planet. For real. Look at him.


Right? He’s disgustingly cute. Anyways, life is pretty fucking good. Here’s the problem though. I am married. I have a stable home and husband. But now everyone’s asking when we are going to have babies and how soon I am going to get pregnant. I already am the oldest married woman with no children in the Kootenays I’m pretty sure. People stare at me like I have 3 heads when I tell them I don’t have kids and don’t plan to for a while. It’s like I am proclaiming my love of satan. Like I support the KKK and hate kittens and think global warming isn’t real and I would largely be in support of Donald Trump becoming the President if I were an American. Why should I feel this social pressure to have babies right away because of my age and where I am in my life? OH right. Because the female reproductive system is on a timer. A pretty fucked up timer that basically increases your chances of having complications every day that goes by that you don’t have a baby. So let’s say I plan on having 2 kids that are, say, 3 years apart in age. I basically have 1-2 years to start having kids then before I get into the danger zone.

Which leads me to this.. am I supposed to get pregnant in the next year or so? Because that is fucked. I don’t want a baby right now. I have a puppy and a husband and trust me that’s plenty for me.

So thanks, mother nature. Thanks a lot for fucking up my 30s. It would have been way fucking cooler if it was the norm to get pregnant in your 40s in my opinion. My mom had me when she was 36 and I turned out alright. Right? Don’t answer that..

So ya. It sucks being a woman. It sucks having to be the one to grow humans inside of you. But this made me feel better and I hope it makes you feel better too.

At least we have large beautiful brains that fit nicely inside our skulls and not tiny little ones that live inside the head of our genitals. Yes, women are crazy. We are emotional and sometimes irrational. We over think everything and worry about situations that don’t exist. But I would rather feel 5000 emotions in one day than only 5: “I feel like eating”, “I feel like shitting”, “I feel like sleeping”, “I feel like doing it”, and “I feel like watching hockey”. Don’t get me wrong, Karlin is a beautiful human being, but he exhibits .001% of the emotions and feelings I do and he would be the first to tell you this!

Bit of a rant, but my point is, if I have to start making babies, I need a list of things I want to do before that day comes. So here it is:

  1. Start my own yoga studio (SOOOONNNN)
  2. Go on a retreat to Bali
  3. Find my mom a place to live in Fruity
  4. Build the biggest sun deck on the planet
  5. Have one last romantic vacation somewhere warm with Karlin
  6. Do a boudoir photo shoot in really expensive lingerie before I completely fuck my body up
  7. Train Bigs not to be such a shit head
  8. Vegas. Just once more

If I could do all these things I think I would be willing to make babies.

This is just about all the time Bigs is going to allow my to type on his favorite chew toy (my lap top). Until next time, which hopefully isn’t months from now! 🙂











Little Coffin: Coming Soon

 Ok don’t freak out. We are getting a puppy not a baby. But it’s pretty much the best thing in the whole world and I cannot wait to see a little puppy face every single morning!!!!

His name is Biggie Smalls.

I literally can’t even. I am going on a road trip to pick him up on January 23rd, which feels like 10 years from now.

I don’t even know how to handle my excitement. Like what do I do with my days now? I have already bought every accessory I could imagine and have been watching puppy training videos and reading puppy training books endlessly.

The yoga studio is also coming along. We are still framing in all the walls and ceilings. I have this grand idea for the ceiling in the main studio area that is either going to be the most epic Pinterest win, or the most devastating Pinterest fail. I am essentially creating an ombre ceiling. Just to make things difficult.


Like this. Only on the ceiling. GAME ON. Worst case scenario, I paint it all dark blue I guess!

I also started making a barn door for the laundry room. That project was taken away from me almost immediately. Men. My way would have been just fine but now it’s going to be this mega door that’s craftsmanned to shit. Waste of money because now all the wood I bought and stained is useless. So I am going to make a puppy gate and not tell anyone because then THAT will get taken away from me too. I don’t understand why I am not allowed to operate a saw. I’m not an idiot.

So lots of things on the go, but the days still feel ridiculously long! One can only do so much yoga by themselves.

11 days left!!!! EEEEEEE