Welcome to Mrs. Dub

Please say hello to Mrs. Dub. And I'll say hello as well, because Mrs. Dub is a new friend to me. I don't know Mrs. Dub at all in real life. And I barely know her digitally. But I do know that she has been really great about emailing me with recommendations for possible Guest Moms. And her emails are always clever. So I started checking out her blog and thought she'd make a terrific Guest Mom herself. Mrs. Dub has written up a lovely little introductory post — I can't wait to get to know her:



What am I doing here?

That's a question I've been asking myself since I was invited to guest blog here at Design Mom. I like pretty things, I like to read about pretty things, but I don't find or create pretty things very often.

I like writing. I love words. I adore syntax. I — forgive me, for I have sinned — even adore alliteration when used appropriately. I once made out with grammar. So while I have the credentials to be a blogger, I don't know that I'm qualified to be a Guest Mom.

But here I am, and here you are, and, oh my, is this already the fourth paragraph?

About me: My name is not Mrs. Dub, but let's just say it's a sensible pseudonym. I blog at here, but I used to blog here. I am wife to one Mr. Dub and mother to a (just turned!) two-year-old we call Miss Dub. I'm also proud mom to Baby Zee, but she only lived for one minute outside my womb in February.

I've lived in the Chicagoland area for 3+ years. I was really freaked out by the word Chicagoland when I first got here and said I would never use it, but three years of Midwest living changes a gal. I'm in love with the city, hate the weather and miss my Arizona upbringing six months out of the year. All in all, life is good.

Before Miss Dub, I worked as a reporter, and still call myself a journalist, mostly to sound cool. I write a quarterly column for Eliza magazine and do some other stuff on the side. I've written the first 100 pages of several different novels. When I die my children can publish them as a collection of short stories, because short stories are much more palatable when you're dead. (IMHO.) (Also, I hate Web acronyms.)

I hope that you will bear with me, my writing, my finds and my poor photography skills.

I regret I'm not one of those moms –the kind who leave you wondering how they do it all, in antique shades of turquoise to boot – but I am a mom, and I couldn't think of anything else I'd rather be.

Happy reading!