• Hillary

Welcome to the Jungle


Me...

Hello, I’m Hillary. I'm a Christian, a wife, a boy mom, a writer, a talker and a Baylor Bear (sic ‘em!). As an extroverted enneagram 7, there are many things that I really love. Sleeping late is my numero uno. And I don’t feel guilty about it either. It doesn’t make sense why going to bed early is hailed as self-care and awesome yet sleeping late is frowned upon. All sleep deserves equal praise in my book. Anyway, I’m a night owl. It’s 2:00 a.m. as I’m writing this, and my house is perfectly quiet and clean. Ok, it’s really more quaran-clean than actual “clean.” You know, it’s clean enough for me to not bother with it because there’s absolutely no chance that anyone will just “drop in” during a global pandemic. But I digress. People are my jam. I love friends, having fun, and being a part of things. Looking at the calendar and seeing lots of great things to look forward to fills my cup. One of my very favorite things in life is dance parties. Our family pre-bedtime dance party is pretty much me living my best life. And when my youngest son asked for a strobe light (ya’ know, to take the dance parties up a notch) for Christmas a few years ago, that was most certainly one of my prouder moments.

The Hubs...

For the last 15 years I’ve been married to Jay, my perfect yet opposite match. Basically, I have very few concerns and he worries enough for the both of us. Our kids doing ridiculous things and scaling tall buildings doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Yet, he knows and calculates the additional bone-breaking-risk for each extra foot of climbing they do. He’s very black and white and practical while I live in a world of gray and empathy. He keeps us safe and informed and I keep us fun and spontaneous. We’ve been together forever and as you can see from the picture below, we were clearly just babies when we met at Baylor. Of course, we agree on the big things. And I thank God for this guy every single day (yes, even the ones where we’ve driven each other completely insane).






The Boys...

Oh, news flash! I forgot to tell you that I now pee alone. That might not seem like a huge deal to some of you, but I endured an entire decade (that's 3,650 light naps and 3,650 dark naps, just in case you need the stats in “toddlerease”) peeing with a tiny army of men (that I created myself) in attendance. However, (cue the sky opening and fireworks bursting with excitement) that is no longer the case. Yes, it’s true. I have been liberated and my precious boys are now old enough that as long as I’m lightning fast (no lolly-gagging or looking at your phone when you’re in mom mode), it’s a solo affair. Does it feel incredibly luxurious to have all of those seconds alone after years of answering questions like, “mommy, where did your penis go?” from your two-year-old? You’d better believe it.


Not that my boys aren't insanely adorable. The fact that my youngest brings me flowers every day melts my heart in ways I couldn’t even conceive of. . .before conceiving. They are amazing. They’ve helped me to grow me as a person in so many ways. As a mom to 3 sweet and eerily creative boys God has taught me never to say never. Initially upon entering parenthood, I had “judgy” thoughts, thoughts like, "I would never let my child do/say/go-to-the-ER-for/wear/climb/jump off of/pee-in that." Yet, all of those were shattered within days of having 3 boys. When you’ve taken a kid to the ER for a rope-burned cornea, you “adjust” your standards just a smidge. And then a little more. And then you just drop that bar right onto the floor. . .at sea level. You learn to relax and realize that sometimes, after a tragic misunderstanding of what exactly poo-pourri is used for, you’re just gonna have to call poison control. Thankfully, nobody needed to go to the emergency room when one Adams child innocently tried to alleviate the noxious fumes being emitted from his brother by spraying the exact spot from whence his brother’s poo had come. So yeah, I'm the mom you want to talk to when your kids do the things that you can't tell your other friends about. I've been there and done that and apologized when my 4-year-old son unleashed a fire extinguisher on a waiting room full of innocent pediatric patients. I've also actually received, in the mail, a thank you note and Starbucks gift card from an emergency room that we used to frequent years ago. Needless to say, these experiences build character. And a sense of humor. Without the ability to laugh at the asinine antics, what are you going to have to offer? Once someone has seen your little sweeties rip the sliding door off of your van door in an Indiana Jones reenactment gone terribly wrong. . .they might not want to invite your crew to their next garden party. So, I get it. This is my fist bump of solidarity to the parents of the world; we all need a mental health day. But for now, just take a breather and join us at, On A Lighter Note, where we chat and write about this incredible and tragically hilarious life that we love and cherish. . .but also from which we need to take the occasional break.

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