More About Me

My name is Jillian. I’m a wife to the most wonderful man in the world, a mama to the three most beautiful little boys ever to grace God’s green earth, and a dog mama to the best, most loyal and lovable doggie EVER! I enjoy cooking (and eating), coffee, all things “interior design”, and DIY everything. I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life, but none I enjoy more than being “Mama” to my beautiful babies.

My parenting style is simple:

• Read every parenting book I can get my grubby little hands on.
• Pray to God that those books have information relevant to my children.
• Surround myself with amazing mothers and fathers who are generous enough to share their parenting “wisdom nuggets”.
• Never be afraid to ask for help (learned this one the hard way).

My blogging “Origin Story” is quite interesting. I’m a Northern California girl…born and raised. I graduated high school at seventeen, and immediately started working full-time to put myself through college. I attended San Jose State University where I received a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism with a focus in Magazine. Because my work schedule only allowed for part-time schooling, it took me FOREVER to finish up my degree. At the “ripe old age” of twenty-seven I graduated.

Contrary to my expectations, all the major magazines did not roll out the red carpet for me and all my superior Journalism knowledge. So, I took a job as Collection Specialist for a law firm in San Francisco. Talk about the worst job in the world. I was supposed to be Art Director for Lucky Magazine (my favorite magazine at the time), and I found myself working a job just ONE step above working for the IRS. But God knew where I needed to be, and eventually…after taking the ODDEST career path EVER…I landed a job as Marketing Director for a Design and Build firm in Saratoga, California. It wasn’t what I thought I wanted to do, but I realized very quickly that it was EXACTLY what I wanted to do. I was good at it, and I was over the moon.

Then, as all origin stories go, this heroine came face to face with a life changing decision. My husband Adrian, who’d studied military history in college aiming to one day become a professor, took a job as a fourth grade teacher and quickly discovered that his heart wasn’t in it. One summer, after a particularly rough school year, we sat down and tried to figure out how he could put his degree to use in a job he could enjoy. August approached and he knew he either had to renew his contract with the school or quit and pray something opened up to give him direction. We both knew what he had to do…quit!

He took a few months, and thought about what he wanted to do. One day he came to me and said “I’d like to join the military.” I was not surprised. When we started dating ten years earlier he had wanted to join the Air Force. At the time, I was thankful he changed his mind to study History at University because I was not about to become a military wife. I was a California girl, and California girls don’t leave California!! It’s just not done. Why would you want to leave all that sunshine?!?! But I digress…he told me he had met with a recruiter, and while he was now too old to join the Air Force he could join the Navy. I could see he was excited about this opportunity and he had, after all, stood by me while I worked my way to my dream job, so how could I deny him the same joy. I told him to do it! And just like that I became a Navy wife and moved all the way across the country to Norfolk, Virginia.

I’m not going to lie, it was a HARD transition. I went from being a driven career woman to being Suzy Homemaker. I didn’t know how to run a house…heck, I didn’t even know how to cook. But how hard could it be, right?!?! I started watching the Food Network during the day, and Ina Garten became my best friend. My poor sweet husband came home and had to force down some pretty interesting concoctions…but he did it every day with a smile and a “that was really good, honey.” The man is a saint! Eventually I found my rhythm and became quite the home cook.

A year and a half into our military life I found out I was pregnant with our son Liev. I LOVED being pregnant. I loved everything about it. Ok wait…honesty zone…I thought the morning sickness was going to kill me, and there were times in those first four months where I found myself hugging the toilet bowl thinking “what the heck did I do?!” But the morning sickness passed, and everything that followed was absolutely amazing…the best time of my life…that was until Liev was born, and I realized that nothing, absolutely nothing, could top the feeling of being a mother to my perfect little boy. My wonderful parents flew out to Virginia for his birth, and stayed for a few weeks after. I sure hope my parents get a double blessing in heaven because Adrian and I could not have survived those first few weeks if it had not been for my parents. My dad rocked the baby while we took cat naps, and my mom kept cranking out enough food to feed a small army. Then they went home, and Adrian went back to work. Postpartum depression hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly I was all alone with an infant and a bazillion questions, doubts, and fears. You can read more about my postpartum journey here if you’re interested.

Side Note: Anyone who mocks pregnancy hormones or says postpartum depression is not real, please come talk to me…I’d like to punch you in the face…thanks!

Liev wasn’t a difficult baby—he was sleeping through the night at six weeks—but it was lonely. We hadn’t been in Norfolk long enough to have any real friends. We were going to a church full of wonderful people but didn’t know anyone well enough to invite them over to visit. I was a new mom, and I was thousands of miles away from my family. Adrian would get home at the end of the day, and I would start talking a million words a minute and he, being the world’s best husband, would just let me talk.

Eventually I made a few amazing friends, and got comfortable in my new life…all the while counting down to the end of Adrian’s contract with the Navy, and the day we would pack up and head back to California. That day finally came and we hit the road. We were back in California about three weeks when we realized that while we LOVED being back with family, we had morphed into Southerners, and no longer felt at home in California. A year into our California residence Adrian got a job offer in Las Vegas, NV. While neither one of us really wanted to live in Vegas, the offer was too good to pass us. We packed everything us (for the millionth time) and hit the road.

While we were happy building a life in the desert, our hearts longed to be back in Virginia. Our one-year lease was coming to an end on our apartment and we had started looking at houses to buy, when Adrian got a call about a job in Northern Virginia. We jumped at the opportunity, packed up (again), and drove BACK across the country to Virginia.

Will we stay in Virginia? I have no idea! I don’t know what the future holds, and that doesn’t scare me at all. I learned a long time ago to trust God because His plans are FAR greater than my own. He opens the doors, and we simply walk through with great faith…He’ll work out the details.

The point of this rather lengthy story is…these experiences have taught me more than any college course or book could ever teach me. Now I feel it’s my duty to pass this information on. Just in case there’s a mom or dad out there wondering where the heck their parenting road is leading them.

I want this blog is to be a haven for moms and dads who just need to know there’s someone out there who has gone through or is going through EXACLTY what you are. We’ll laugh together and cry together. We’ll encourage and support one another. But most importantly we WILL NOT JUDGE one another. I’ve made mistakes on my motherhood journey, and I’m sure I’ll make a million more before my boys go off to middle school. I saw a t-shirt one time that said, “Parenthood is the scariest hood you’ll ever go through” and shoot, isn’t that the truth. But we don’t have to walk this road alone. I’m here…let’s chat.