March 18, 2023

I’m keeping my old versions of this page below, because those versions of me were true when I wrote them, and are still true. Now, as time has gone by, there is a little more to me and my story. Additions and renovations but not replacements.

Jobs, babies, houses and the overwhelms of daily life have occupied most of my time for the last 20 years. But before all that, in November of 1999, when I was just a naive, impressionable young thing, I found a love that has smoldered in me for my whole adult life. Italy. Four years ago, after many years of estrangement, I was reunited with that love and it has truly felt like an affair of the heart. It has been a period of longing, of wondering and of throwing caution to the wind. My focus is now on creating a life in the foreign land that is calling me home.

Moving to Italy has been written ad nauseam, I realize that. I can promise you that I will strive in this space not to be just be another voice gushing about pasta and beautiful vistas, painting a picture of an idilic life abroad. This has never really been a food blog or a parenting blog and it will not be a travel blog either. It is a human blog. What I’m doing now is moving to Italy and that will be a major theme here, because it is my life, but what has always been most intriguing for me is that we are all just people. Life is hilarious, imperfect and tender. That is true in the US and it is true in Italy. Wherever we go, there will be moments of inspiration, moments of absurdity and moments of pain. That is what speaks to my heart. That is what I am about.

Saluti!

For those who are new here, these posts will give you a quick overview of the Italian part of my story: Baby Loves Olive OilThe ApartmentAnnouncement and Back Story (aka I am Good at Making Things Complicated) The other parts of the blog might resonate with you too if you like funny, vulnerable, emotional, stupid, ridiculous, irreverent stories about embarrassment, marriageparentingLittle House on The Prairiebody imagekidspersonal growth and family stuff. Welcome to the weird inside of my brain.


In the beginning, June 22, 2015

Once upon a time there was a girl named Ivy. She tried hard to be good and kind and strong and smart. Sometimes she succeeded, and sometimes she failed. She had a blessed life but still wrestled with her demons because that is the human condition. She learned to cook so she could feed herself and the people around her. She especially liked making pies.

The girl grew up and found love. She got two deep wrinkles between her eyebrows. She birthed two children at home. She tried to find the balance between being a no sugar, no TV kind of parent and being a blue raspberry Slurpee and Spongebob kind of parent. She felt socially awkward much of the time.

She cooked, she mothered, she wifed. She sometimes screamed curse words silently to herself in the mirror. She longed for Italy. She ate large helpings of dinner. She wondered what it would be like to face the world without makeup on. She rubbed the soft, round belly of her little one. Her life was still blessed.

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Update, May 4th, 2017:

Life is funny. When I started this blog I thought it would be primarily about cooking and eating, with maybe a little about parenting thrown in. But it has evolved. I have evolved. And though I do feel I owe you a post now and again about something delicious, I’m deciding to be okay with whatever direction my writing takes me in, and if I want to have a blog called Baby Loves Butter that hardly ever talks about babies or butter, that’s my prerogative, right?

I strive to be authentic in my writing and in my existence. We are complex creatures all struggling in our own ways. If we can reach out a hand, even a shaky one, to help each other through the mucky parts of life then we are doing our most important job. So, here, please, come in to my space, dusty and cluttered though it may be, and sit with me. Let’s be humans together.