As a kid I was a cowgirl, a dancer, an explorer, a clumsy comedian, and the owner of rabbit teeth (that lived in my mouth.) I lived on a working horse farm where I got to run a Bed & Breakfast with my mama and clean stalls for famous traveling equines like the Budweiser Clydesdales. I was also the proud owner of a rescued zebra named Zelvis, two spitting llamas, a cow named Norma, an abandoned deer named Daisy, who was allowed to come inside if she wished, and one bad-ass catfish named ScarFace. (All true.) At my dad’s I got to live the city life in a high-rise condo with cable, a Gameboy, an endless supply of Alphabet cereal, and a pool. Life was gooood.
As a teenager, I was most of the above, a little bit brattier, a slightly better dancer, and thank God, the owner of proportionally sized teeth. At my mom’s, I lived in a really cool single-wide trailer on a mountain (while my step-dad built a mountain lodge) and at my dad’s I lived in the best neighborhood house ever built with my stepmom and new amazing baby sister. I was a good student, a decent friend, and the largest stake-holder of Ensure, as my mother made me drink an inordinate amount in hopes of putting some weight on my bird-like frame.
As an adult, I am a mixture of all of the above, 25 pounds heavier (yes!), the wife of a real-life musical rockstar, the mom to the most profoundly magical little girl, the sister to a small group of super-humans, a former middle school teacher, a doctoral candidate for my Ed.D. in special education, an aspiring potter, an advocate for those with special needs, the master of two amazing puppies, and living, loving, and having fun in Music City, Tennessee.
See. I wasn’t kidding about the rabbit teeth.