Well, well, well. We meet again, Monday.

Sorry for disappearing mid-week. I’ve been crazy busy at work, and then Thursday was my mom’s birthday, and then I ended up getting sick this weekend, so I just have been stuck somewhere in a realm with headaches and Pinterest and HGTV. Oh my.

So you get this blog post. Which is about nothing other than saying that I’m alive! And it’s already June. Which is mildly terrifying. This week is deadline week at work, so I’ll be swamped. I’ll try to check in when I can. I’m hoping it won’t be a 66 hour deadline week and will hug closer to 50. But only time will tell.

I hope to be able to completely dedicate myself to writing and blogging this summer, with mucho mucho iced coffee. I shouldn’t say “I hope” and should say “I will.” So, I will. I think part of my problem is that I haven’t been able to develop a routine yet. I plan to squeeze in an hour or half hour of early morning writing, and an hour on my lunch break. That will be the routine. Then whatever “free” time I have left each day, I can dive back in.

Plans and schemes. At the end of this month, the year will be half over. And I still have way too many goals to accomplish! Time to go into overdrive. And hope I don’t puke up my lunch.


Do you ever stare so long at the same thing that you start to question reality?

No? Just me? Ah.

The thing is, I spent an ungodly amount of time the last few days reorganizing my Pinterest boards. And it feels good. I feel more in control, even though I’m probably not. I feel as though I’m going through an emotional Renaissance. As you might have guessed from some recent posts. I’m concentrating on getting back to what makes me me.

My sweet husband is such a good partner and checks me when I’m being too hard on myself (all day err day). So I’m trying to move forward. And maybe that starts with clean Pinterest boards. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I’m happy, I’m moving forward, and I’m developing an iced coffee recipe series for this summer. Oh, yes. You read that right. I tested 3 of the 6 this weekend, and I’m so excited to bring them your way. I am trying, trying to work toward what I love. Trying to embrace who I am. More importantly, trying to embrace who I could be if I would get out of my own way.

And I have beautifully rearranged my Pinterest boards. So, really, there’s no stopping me. And I don’t think there’s stopping any of us. I believe in you! I believe in you searching for you. Getting back to your passions and dreams. I think we all have such glorious futures, if we only would let ourselves.

Let’s all give ourselves a break. Let’s embrace our innate opportunity and vow to drink a lot of iced coffee this summer. Let’s go easy on ourselves. Let’s love ourselves.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Sorry these posts are all emo. I promise to be bringing you some funnier content this week. But this is life, folks. And you signed up for it. Unless you just mindlessly clicked my link. In which case, you are definitely feeling like time has stopped right about now.

One day closer to Friday.

Y’all have a great day!


I’m going to share a little piece of my heart with y’all. You know in Practical Magic, when little baby Sally (Sandra Bullock’s character) walks around and puts petals in a bowl while naming the qualities of her perfect man? She’s all, “He’s patient, and strong, and has one blue eye and one green eye, and always takes out the trash, and has a lisp, and sometimes gets a twitch?” I might be paraphrasing, but I’m pretty sure that’s the gist.

Well, that has always been one of my favorite movies, and one of my favorite scenes. It has many beautiful callbacks, and it’s just full of the the romance of childlike hope. I think it resonated with me because I was the same way. Except I never rarely ever listed all the ingredients of my perfect bonbon of a man. Instead, I dreamed of my life.

I would be a famous singer. No, actress. No, poet. No, director. No, dancer. No, Broadway star. No, live theatre. No, Broadway star. No, European ingenue. No, a writer. No, how about that singing thing? No, SONGWRITER! NO, AUTHOR! BUT, MY GOD, WHAT ABOUT INTERIOR DECORATING???? Or being the next Oprah???? So many life scenarios. So many dreams. And none of them were this.

Don’t get me wrong. Many, many things in my life are beyond my wildest dreams. My friends, my family, The Hubbit. I never could have dreamed up the beautiful relationships in my life. But the part of me that dreams wildly for my future is still there. I’m a little more focused (writing career), a little more realistic (I’m really not the best singer), and a little older and wiser, but I still dream. I still get that flurry of excitement and that childlike hope burns deep, deep inside me.

It’s hard to live this life, to sit in my dank cubicle all day, and not run through the halls screaming, “IS THIS ALL THERE IS? DON’T YOU PEOPLE WANT MORE?” But I restrain myself, because maybe everyone else is happy. Maybe everyone else thought of their future and imagined a steady job and a sweet family waiting for them. Maybe they find more value in an 8-5 than I do. So I check myself before I wreck myself, and I go back to dreaming and scheming.

It’s obviously not too late for me to achieve whatever nebulous thing I’m trying to achieve. I’m still alive, still healthy, still young. But I have to work. I am too hard on myself. I know this. I hold myself to unrealistic standards. I know this too. But I am TIRED of people telling me to slow down. To be easy on myself. I’m tired of using age (or lack thereof) as an excuse to accept the current state of life, and let the dream slip further away. If I do that, I will wake up one day, approaching my 40th birthday, and the only thing that’s different will be the death of childlike hope for the future.

So, please, stop telling me that it’s okay, that I’m okay. Let me work the job I have to have and the two jobs I want to have. Let me stumble and fall and be grumpy and be irrationally upset over something like not accomplishing weekend goals. Let me dream.

Because if not, I will kill the only part of me that’s left that is still me. I will have become the shell of Kaitlin that goes through the motions without ever evolving and changing. I will be stagnant. And right here, right now, I choose to believe that I have too much left inside of me to kill it off.

So let me dream. Impractical though it may be. Magical though it may be. Let me dream.

Oh. My. Heavens. We made it to Friday. Give yourself a pat on the back. Put your adult beverage of choice in the fridge. Lift your head, child, for the end is in sight.

For one of the few times in my life, it was difficult for me to shop for FF, because I have like jaguar concentration on finding cute and cheap dishes and cups to blog with. Le sigh. Anyway, I saw so many pretty, floaty, ruffly delightful things that I decided to base my finds on designs that include chiffon or chiffon-esque elements. Enjoy. And then enjoy the heck out of this three day weekend. Mmmmmm.

1) Claudette Lattice Back Blouse

Gorgeous berry color. Love forever.

Gorgeous berry color. Love forever.

2) Day at the Pier Crochet Detail Tank

So cute. I have nothing to say except this is perfect.

So cute. I have nothing to say except this is perfect.

3) La Presa Maxi Skirt

Wow. Much Drama. So Leg.

Wow. Much Drama. So Leg.

4) Mercury Pleated Peasant Blouse

Stunning. Cannot deal.

Stunning. Cannot deal.

5) Merrick Tiered Chevron Tank

This is everything I've ever wanted for summer.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted for summer.

6) Murray Chiffon Tank

This tank comes in so many gorgeous colors!!

This tank comes in so many gorgeous colors!!

7) New Rockford Lace Tank Top

This was made for me. I almost re-themed FF around this blouse. That's how much I love it.

This was made for me. I almost re-themed FF around this blouse. That’s how much I love it.

8) Paris Stroll Pleated Dress

So romantic! Also, my bess fran is in Paris right now, so it made me think of her.

So romantic! Also, my bess fran is in Paris right now, so it made me think of her.

9) Peach Blossom Maxi Dress

The price tag on this is ridiculous. But I'm obsessed.

The price tag on this is ridiculous. But I’m obsessed.

10) Southsea Ruffle Tank

So cute layered under a lightweight cardi, or with some slouchy boyfriend jeans.

So cute layered under a lightweight cardi, or with some slouchy boyfriend jeans.

11) Suncup Blouse

Everything about this is perfect. So summery. I'm drooling.

Everything about this is perfect. Well, minus the ridiculous price tag. Anthro, Y U NO be affordable??!? So summery. I’m drooling.

12) Tiered Chiffon Blouse

Oh, yaaaaassss, honey.

Oh, yaaaaassss, honey.


And now I’ll float away in a chiffon dream. Y’all have an amazing THREE DAY WEEKEND!!!!

I have a pretty demanding job.

I realize it doesn’t register on the scale of profit loss to the stock market crash of 1929, but it is demanding nonetheless. And, quite frankly, it’s hard. I respect people who work demanding jobs.

It’s harder, for me, to be a working wife. It’s hard to leave my husband in bed and get up when it’s dark outside. It’s hard to have a deadline week and be gone 15 out of 24 hours. It’s hard to work all day and then come home and work all evening. I have huge respect for working wives, working women in general. And I don’t know how mothers who work outside of the home do it. I just have one pretty chill, loving, supportive husband and I still occasionally crack from the pressure. Add the super demanding, more than full-time job of motherhood? I don’t know how anyone does it. And yet we do. Cue “women are strong” song of choice.

Anyway, I kind of went off on a tangent. I didn’t meant to complain about jobs or genders or any of those murky things. I came here to think more about time management, and to reveal my plans for the three day weekend. I told my mom recently that I need every weekend to be a three day weekend, because I need one day to just rest, one day to just write, and one day to just chore. But that is not reality.

Reality is I do have a three day weekend this weekend, and I’m going to make it count inside my home and inside my heart. Or something less cheesy. Except this is life with extra cheese, so get used to it.

I’m going to wake up early. Stupid early. Slap yo’ mama early. Because I’m going to try to get up earlier every day, so I can work on my book. Sacrifice to gain, people. Also, I will be drinking a lot of coffee.

I have writing goals for each day, and by the end of the weekend, I should have completed my brainstorming work, outlined, and have 6,000 new words to my novel rewrite. Which is exciting.

Then, I am going to tackle this mess we call a home. Dishes need did, y’all. And we haven’t unpacked at all, really. The primary goal is to get kitchen re-done (I had it pristine for like 2 weeks, then had deadline week, and it all went to hell), then get the dining room and living room clean, unpacked, and organized.

Then, I am going to recipe plan and get some things going for the blog. I have a new idea I came up with last night, as well as an exciting series to roll out this summer. I want to prep and experiment with that. I also have non-food blogging things to do.

Then, with any leftover time, I want to read a book. And then maybe start the unpacking of the rest of the house. I am leaving this as flexible, because I’m sure it will just end up being that we finish marathoning the last season of Lost.

Those are my plans. I gift them to you. I will document them. And I will check back in with their progress, because Lord KNOWS I need the accountability.

And that’s about all I have to say about that. Sorry this became a boring account of my to-do list. I just like to keep it real over here.

Y’all have a great day!

I’ve been thinking a lot about time.

My dear friend, Patricia, turned me on to the TimeHop app. Its a “time capsule of you,” and pulls your historic posts from your social media profiles. It has given us forgotten friendship gems, some puzzlingly vague updates, and plenty of opportunities for me to laugh at my own old jokes. Yesterday, however, it pulled up something that made me kind of sad and angry. Maybe a little life-hangry. Three years ago yesterday, I graduated from college. Three years. Three. Years.

I might have thrown up in my mouth a little. I think I saw stars. Where has my life gone? Yes, yes, I’m only twenty five. I know. I’m not saying I’m old. I’m saying… what am I saying? I’m saying that I’m wasted. I don’t necessarily mean that as finitely and pessimistically as it sounds. I just feel overly aware that I’m never going to get those years back. And I am disappointed in what I’ve done with them.

Obviously, the one overarching exception that makes the rest of it okay is finding my husband. Yesterday was also our 10th marriage monthaversary. (Love you more every day, baby.) Dating my husband and wedding planning basically took over one of those years of life. Worth it. So what of the other two? Throwing myself into a job that under-utilizes my skills and doesn’t use my talents at all? Nothing against my job, it’s just that any office job won’t cut it. My spirit wasn’t made for cubicle life. Which makes the me of three years ago so very sad. Where are my hopes and dreams and forward progress?

But now-me would like to inform 22 year old me that it’s okay. My job is a huge blessing and has provided me with many necessities. I have learned things. I have grown and I have some new scars. The exciting part is that I am now reclaiming my life. I’m recommitting to the interests and priorities of 22 year old me. Hence this blog. But I get to do it with the armor of now-me. I get the sword of purpose. The shield of self-knowledge. And the map of losing yourself and finding yourself again.

If I had to describe my emotions/realizations/outlook, I can kind of sum it up with this:

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

I know I am am secure in myself and my marriage and in Christ. But my reassurance goes beyond that. It’s the fact that I can see and recognize all other ground as sinking sand. I see what tricks and traps are laid for me, and I can step over them. It’s a beautiful feeling that I am grateful for. So though I still am too hard on myself and I struggle with disappointment and dreams like everyone else, I stand firm. And when I stumble, I have the armor I’ve given myself to protect me, my husband to catch me, and my savior to lead me.

I can’t wait to see what I conquer in the next three years.

Bonjour, Mes Amis!

Can I interest you in a delicious, healthy, completely customizable dinner that goes from fridge to table in under 30 minutes? I can? Well, then, have I got a treat for you! Meet my good friend, the Portabella Pizza.

Portabella Pizza

If you want to be rude and real technical, it’s a simple stuffed mushroom. But it’s so much better for my heart to hear the word “pizza.” I originally got the inspiration from this link I found on Pinterest, but ain’t nobody got time to saute onions.


Clean your mushrooms, remove stems (remove gills if you want more room for toppings. I leave them in, usually.), spoon in sauce, slather with cheese, top, bake, and and enjoy. Boom. You can choose any toppings you want.

Portabella Pizza

Portabella Pizza

Husband's choice

Husband’s choice

My husband chose green olives. I don’t judge. But I chose classic pepperoni. Mmmmm. Look at this scrumptiousness:

Pepperoni Portabella Pizza. Say that three times.

Pepperoni Portabella Pizza. Say that three times.

Here’s the recipe:

Recipe Card Portabella upload


Hello, friends.

I’m so excited to be writing to you, again, on this new platform. If you’ve randomly stumbled across this post, then I am impressed and slightly afraid of where you were on the internet. If you’ve followed my other blog, then you should feel right at home.

I’ve had a psychological break. Or something. Basically, I decided that my old blog didn’t afford me enough personal freedom. How could I wax poetic about things like cheese while still keeping my professional writing name squeaky clean? It was causing me major issues and seriously stunting my creativity. No more.

This site will me be. Me, conquering the cubicle and the critic in my head. My hobbies, my endeavors, my successes and failures in my personal life. It will be about being 25 and trying to figure out life and marriage and how, exactly, to stop snoozing my alarm. Expect fashion, makeup, home decor, crafts and DIY, marriage discussion, recipes, and anything else I feel like throwing up here. The other site will still be up and running, but it will be my professional showcase of stories, poems, and all things writer.

I’m so, so, happy to finally give myself something I’ve wanted but was afraid of, and I hope you stick around for the ride. I have huge plans, dreams, and schemes for both of my sites. And don’t worry, this layout is only temporary. Don’t judge this blog by its temporary cover. (*** EDIT: It now has its semi-permanent cover. Judge away.***) I wanted something big and grand, and an inaugural Makeup Monday post, but I didn’t budget my time correctly. Well, mostly my foot and ankle kept cramping in the middle of the night, and so I didn’t sleep well, and so I laid around for way too long this morning/afternoon. So you get this. I didn’t want to postpone the post another day or week. I didn’t want to not do something because it wasn’t perfect yet. I feel like I’ve been caught up in that ideal too much recently. So look at me, here and imperfect, and loving it. Well, tolerating at least.

And so, Wife Begins. I can’t wait to see where we go.