Save the date?

It’s been a crazy 2 weeks of engagement. We haven’t set any dates or really made ANY decisions other than the most important one- that we’re going to embark on this journey together. The lack of decisiveness, mostly my own, is 2 parts relaxing and 1 part overwhelming. I can’t wait to set a date, but it’s not time yet. More updates soon.



Cape Cod is where I’ll spend my summer as an intern at the Cape Cod Times.

First, the Dow Jones Newspaper Fund internship boot camp at Penn State for two weeks.

Salt Lake City is an option for Aaron’s grad school stuff…

…and Los Angeles…

…and Austin…

…and Tallahassee…

…But we’re here now, and that’s all we’re promised.
Lincoln, Neb.

This is a post dedicated to the topography of 2009. Some of these places I’ll live in, for sure, and some of them are speculative until we sign the dotted lines…
“…guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.”

sixty degrees

That big dog is my puppy, Graham Green Gus Anderson.

“Graham Green” was his first name, because when we got him, they referred to him as “Green,” the color of the ribbon around his neck. I liked Graham Green, but Dad liked Gus better.
It’s 60 degrees outside and I’m about to go to one of my favorite places in Nebraska. 

And it’s February 6. 
“The Good Life” for sure. 


I talk to my mom every day.

She’s strong, lovely, passionate and committed to her husband, her daughters, her church, her employees, her community. She’s just mind-blowing. I love her so much.
Thanks, Mom.
Why this post?

Today I had a conversation with an acquaintance who asked me if my mom stayed at home when I was growing up. I answered no, and this person, seemingly alarmed, asked me where my mom left me when she was working. These conversations are deep struggles for me. I’ve been fighting this silent battle in honor of my mom for a long time.  
Growing up, many of my friends had mothers who stayed home. Mine was not one of them. During the school year, my sister and I would go to school and then to after-school daycare at our church. During the summer, our dad, who is a football coach and teacher, was home, so we spent our summers outside playing with Dad. 

Mom has a heart to lead and direct. She is a professional. She is inspiring and intelligent, and I have never resented her for not being at home with us growing up. She was. She sacrificed so much in order to reach her professional goals, but being our mom was never something she put on the back-burner. She crafted, spoke, taught, prayed, colored, sewed, scolded, planned, orchestrated, volunteered and gave of herself more than many of the stay-at-home moms she must have encountered. She wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, during football season, she would pick my sister and me up at 6 p.m., right as daycare closed, and we were the last girls there. Sometimes she couldn’t be class “Art Mom” in one class because she was teaching Junior Achievement in another.

Did we suffer because of this? I hope my life and my family is a testament answering this question. I get terribly defensive about this because I love my mom, and I don’t want anyone to think she wasn’t the best mom she could have been because she didn’t serve her family in the traditional homemaking sense. Our house has always been a home, something very dear to me, because of the unique situation Mom had the opportunity to be included in. Had I been raised any differently, I am positive I would not be as awe-struck for my mom as I am now.

I love you, Mom. Thank you for everything you do.