About Ashley

I taught high school English for six years before deciding to sit out for a while with my own talk-to-meeeeeeeeeee's!  It was the shocking news that our #2 was actually 2 and so made 3 that had us thinking twice about me working just so we could break even after writing the day care check. 

Now at home, I have ample time to both enjoy and fumble through motherhood.  Exploring the domestic front has me twirling in glee at one moment and putting bleach to work, with gritted teeth beneath my smile, at the next. I'm generally busy uncovering jewels amidst the mundane: a young boy's blooming mind, research about watering plants and poaching eggs, babies smiley, smiley, smiley, and broken bits of our home needing my attention at once.

Tender-hearted and melodramatic, I alternate between narrating the world as an idyllic place to bring up littles like tufts of soft clouds just needing a nudge and eeking nervous all the messes I'm making as a mom, as a wife, as a would-be writer if I could just not clean up pee off our bathroom floor for one. single. day. 

One day my son asked me why I had been in the office. When I told him I was working, he laughed up and down and said, "You're not suppose to be in da office. You're not a daddy or anyfing." Being not a daddy or a teacher or anyfing, I write so I can mean something to people who don't also share my genes.  I'm glad YOU are here because I could use friends who think I'm something more than not anyfing.

This silly guy above is mine. Thomas. He's a four year old with your run-of-the-mill halfling speech impediment.  He inherited Paul's strong will and my eyes. 

These below are mine too.  Fresh ones doing what they know how to do best: pass out into milk comas. Alistair & Emerick are their names when they're not being called 'one of the boys', 'da brudders', or 'this one I've got in my arms'.

Below is our match made in heaven Missouri. Paul is smart, loud, funny. He bubbles over with infectious ideas and near combustible levels of energy. He forges ahead when I'm still eyeing up the shore.  I've said yes to loving him forever because he's my best shot of redemption and that being me tugged out of my shell to do, to try, to tackle which is a very good thing for me since my default setting is developing something of an art form out of being a homebody.

If my gushing makes you roll your eyes, I totally get it.  I see all the good, of course, but we're a constant effort too. What a vocation it is to surrender for the sake of a life that's much more than "me",  to hand over in hope to a spouse corners of ourselves, ordinary day after ordinary day, and pray the extraordinary collectively edges out the ugliness, the hurt, the humility in seeing a mirror of our naked souls.

I tend to ink encouragement for others putting in their time to raising littles and being perfectly imperfect alongside a spouse.  This type of gritty giving of self and finding of great joy, despite a lot, and I mean a lot, of grinding difficulties, is what makes me come alive and tends to swell in me to a sweeping noise and spill out in this space.

I'm so glad you've visited. Drop me a line or say hello. I love to hear who's reading!

(Or email me at Ashers143@gmail.com. I love mail just as much as the next gal!)