Yep, so you did it.  You clicked on this page and there we are,

Meet the suspects:

alias *Steve*
We usually go by our middle names here, but neither *Steve* nor the dog have middle names, so he picked a name he'd like to be known as.

This is *Mila*.  She's our tempest in a teapot, our sugar in our sweets and our entire world.  Without her, I'd be a pile of goo.  And with her, I'm a pile of goo. And to be quite honest, I really don't know what I did before she entered my world.  She's growing up to be this incredible young lady and it scares me what challenges she'll present us with in the years ahead.  Hopefully not the same challenges I've given my parents.

Aw, Suma.  She's no longer with us in this world.  She will always be the best dog ever, protector of all things *Mila* and has a genuine love to catch the pet bunny whenever possible.

I find myself attracted to willows.  Wherever I go, I snap photos of them.  (hint:  my middle name is the name of a tree, perhaps this one....hmmmm?)

Cardinals find themselves attracted to me.  Wherever I go, I snap photos of them.

By no means do I consider myself a photographer.  I consider myself to have square shoulders, large calf muscles, and I find myself wanting to please people.  I love to paint, but I spend more time daydreaming about it, than actually doing it.

I can hit rock bottom, but my willow-like tendencies make me bend and not break. Yeah, baby.

Hit my blog for a snort (alcoholic or the kind from your nostrils), stupid things I do, empathize with my parenting struggles or my husband's male refrigerator blindness, moan with me because of my dream to hang out with Colin & Justin, or dread my rants on how (c) dooce copies me!  just kidding.

signed, the willow


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