This page explains who I am and how I got here. If you’re in a hurry I made this short video that gives the Reader’s Digest Condensed Version.
Feel free to leave comments here, there, or anywhere. I cherish your comments; it makes my day when you leave one. Except if you write creepy stuff on my pantyhose threads (or anywhere else). Those you can keep to yourself.
I am a Writer.
In May 2008, after spending a decade participating in a Christian homeschool forum under the name, Chloe of the Mountain, I started The Chloe Chronicles where I could freely write the stuff that I wanted to write.
Since I began blogging I’ve undergone a tremendous transformation:
I am a Mother.
I have two grown children, Rachel and Wolfie.
Rachel, a.k.a. The Princess Sweetie Pea is my firstborn.
We have a very close relationship. She’s a married woman who speaks for herself over on her own blog, Sandals in the Snow. She’s married to Jake, a.k.a. The Hunter.
I wrote extensively about their courtship, but it was all erased in a tragic internet accident. You can read about it from her perspective at Another Suitor for the Princess.
After their whirlwind courtship, she married at 19. I worried that she was too young, but she’s madly in love and he’s a terrific man, so what are you gonna do?
When my son was 12 he asked me why I hadn’t named him Wolfgang Van Halen. I had to break the news to him that Valerie Bertinelli had already snagged Eddie Van Halen before he was born. I think he’s forgiven me, but the nickname Wolfie stuck.
Wolfie is a musician. On his way to adulthood, he put me through mothering hell and I credit him in large part for driving me to start this blog. Thanks, kid.
Wolfie is now 23 and doing extremely well. We are very proud of him and his accomplishments. Someday he’s going to be a very famous musician and I’ll have to take everything off of my blog about him, so enjoy it while it lasts. I’m also betting that someday he’ll be a conservative Republican and I’ll have the last laugh.
I was a Homeschool Mom.
As a former homeschool mom who poured her heart and soul into raising her kids, I really thought I had this parenting thing down. I was so very wrong. You can find a link to my misadventures in parenting here, but two posts that I think are important are Humility and the Homeschool Mom and Viking Burial at Sea.
I was an attachment parent. You can read about some of my thoughts about parenting here: First Time Obedience; Why I’m Just Not Into That.
I am a daughter.
In 2008, my mother was diagnosed with Stage IV colorectal cancer. She was living in Tennessee at the time. I rushed to her hospital bed only to find that she had no money, no insurance, and she owed the IRS $100,000 dollars in back taxes. I found out the extent of her tax situation when I went to her house and found a box taped shut with my name written on it that contained 10 years’ worth of unopened mail from the IRS. It was a special moment.
I’ve written several posts about my mother. For an overview of our complex relationship–including the story of how I was conceived on the top bunk in a Housing Project in Louisville–check out My Mother, Myself.
My mother was difficult, but she was also hilarious. When she died last year she took my best material with her. Throughout the course of my life I loved and hated her very much. Now I just miss her more than words can say.
In my attempt to remember her, I have a series on the wisdom she shared with me over the years. She was the knee-jerkiest liberal you could ever meet, but she did teach me about Deadly Hickeys, the benefits of NOT being a picky eater, how to Act Like a Civilized Human Being, and she inspired a piece called Poor Children Need Ice Cream, Too.
I have Survived Depression
In 2004 we moved from San Diego to a 14,000 ft glacial mountain where we currently live and where I developed a serious case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (S.A.D.). S.A.D., combined with the unexpected marriage of my daughter, my son’s agonizing rebellion, and my mother’s heartbreaking terminal illness, brought me to a place where I just didn’t want to live anymore.
I love my family and my friends. Not wanting to leave my beloved husband with the pain of that choice, or my children with the legacy of that final decision, I realized that if I was going to live I was going to have to take a lot better care of myself. I wrote about my unorthodox way of coming out of depression by falling in love with Edward Cullen and having sex with John Corbett.
I am Loved.
I am married to Jeff, the Captain of my Heart.
Jeff is my Superhero, the cream in my coffee, and the cinnamon on my bun. Although sometimes I don’t think his intentions are quite so noble.
I am the Original Vagina Whisperer.
25 years ago I began my personal and professional study of Birth as a Competitive Sport.
I became a doula, apprenticed with a homebirth midwife for three years, attended nursing school, and now work as traveling labor and delivery RN. After a very short mental flirtation with the idea of having a birth blog, I came to my freaking senses. I’d prefer to have everyone think I Don’t Know Nothin’ ‘Bout Birthin’ Babies.
I am a Christian.
I sometimes write about spiritual issues as I struggle along with the ripped-up remnants of my Christian faith that I hang onto for all I’m worth. And while I’m still a Christian, I am most certainly NOT a Republican, and most definitely I’m not a Tea Partier (give me a fucking break). I do not believe that being born an American entitles me or anyone else to any special spiritual privileges. And I most certainly do not believe that Jesus has a Wonderful Plan for Our Lives.
I am a Woman.
I still wear stilettos and tight jeans. I live to see the world and experience what it has to offer.
I am not perfect. I make mistakes. I don’t do a very good job of keeping my mouth shut. It seems I spend a lot of my time falling down and having to pick myself up. But I have learned that when you pick yourself up that’s when you grow the most.