Meet Brenda

I would like to formally introduce you to the newest member of our family…

Meet Brenda.


Yes, that’s my house.

Yes, I named her Brenda.

What? Your house doesn’t have a name?

She’s named after Brenda Walsh. You know, from 90210.

But Season 1 Brenda not seasons 3-7 Brenda.

Hold on.

You do know who Brenda Walsh is, right?

If not, please go away. We can’t be friends. 


If not. Here is a refresher:

brenda walsh
source :Wikipedia

Moving on.

So Brenda (my house) like Brenda Walsh, originated in 1990. But Brenda (my house) unlike Brenda Walsh, is still in 1990 and brings with it all the charm of the early 90’s.

And because I enjoy self-deprecating humor, I will give you a tour of all that 90’s charm.

Let’s pretend those aren’t moving boxes still sitting on my porch, m’kay?


So here’s the thing about Brenda. Like 75% of her is still stuck in 1990 and she needs a bit of updating. Cause only in California will you buy a million dollar fixer upper.

So we move in, and the amount of work was momentarily paralyzing. Like, holy crap, this place is old. The first day, Fisher handed me a door handle, Noah was held captive in his room by the old, warped wooden door, and Grandma got stuck in the closet.

So my husband, Jedediah, decided to get to work vamping up the place. Within hours of receiving the keys, Jed yanked the old doorbell out and replaced it with…nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Daily conversation:

Me: So, um, when we getting a doorbell?

Jed: I’m calling the electrician.

Me: So, um, when you calling him?

Jed: Soon.

That’s code for: knock really, really loud when you come over for the next year. Cause otherwise I won’t hear you.



When you step in you’re greeted with a winding staircase made entirely of oak. Not my fav, but it has mounds of potential, right?

I can’t decide if I want to paint it, stain it, replace it with iron, or do nothing and just complain about it for the next fifty years.

What is it about the early 90’s that made people want to add so many steps to their house? I mean it’s step up into the kitchen, step DOWN into the living room, THREE steps UP into the family room, and another step down into the dining room.

Geez. They didn’t even have Fitbits back then, what’s with all the steps!


It’s like a daily dose of this…

step A
Source: YouTube. Work it Jane Fonda!


This mammoth of a light fixture is taller than me, weighs roughly a bazillion pounds, and  is not ugly in person. It’s really not.


The same cannot be said for it’s little friend here…


In 1990, phones in the bathroom were totally a thing. I think. I was 8 years old (I’ll save you the math, I’m 34 now), and whoever built this house took their toilet talking seriously.

Super seriously.

There is a phone jack in every bathroom.

And guess what? The master bathroom has TWO. One above the toilet paper roll…


And one behind the door.



I feel like a witty number two joke would be perfect right here, but my brain is mushy today.

We bought Brenda not because of the layers upon layers upon layers of oak, or because of the amount of phone jacks, but because of the of space! Brenda has 7 bedrooms.


We shoved each kid in his or her own room, dusted off our hands, and called it a day.

The less they have to interact with each other the better.

“Mom! Noah is looking at me…Mom! Tell Emma she’s not allowed to touch my pillow…Mom! I stepped in pee again!…Mom! Ryder snores so loud!…Mom! Natalie touched my arm!…Mom!…Mom!…Mom!…Mom!…Moooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmm!!!!!”

The fighting is (almost) no more.

Sweet silence.

(Yes, as punishment for their hours and hours and HOURS of fighting with each other, we bought them a big house with their own rooms. Cause we’re good parents like that. )


I don’t mean to rag on Brenda. She’s a great home. Really! Has an upgraded master bathroom. Two shower heads, jetted bathtub, new tile, vanity, his and hers separate sinks, and three steps into the tub…I’ve only slipped twice. So far. This may be how I die.

I can only show you this half because the other half is a disaster.

The yard is perfect. We plan to take out that lovely gazebo and put in a pool.

Ps-I’m already hyperventilating about a pool in our backyard. Is there such a thing as a hard cover with alarms and wires around it? Cause, that’s what I’ll need in order to sleep at night.

PPS-Remember the episode where Dylan chose Kelly? They were in the pool and Dylan said,  “It’s you. It’s always been you.” And poor Brenda was all like, “I hate you both. Don’t ever talk to me again!” And then she started dating Dean Cane before he was Superman and then…I forgot how this was relevant to this post…

Moving on.



We haven’t done a whole lot of decorating because…well, because we just bought a dang house and moving is expensive and kids are expensive and it took me about 50,000 calories to get through this move and that was expensive. However, I did decorate Emma’s room. Why? I dunno. You got to start somewhere and she’s the easiest to please.

I was going to make a thick line that went around her whole room with these decal dots. Saw it on Pinterest. Looked super cute. But after about twenty minutes of peeling, and measuring, and sticking, and rubbing… I realized I was too ADD for this project. Instead, I just started sticking to see what happened. And this was born:

It’s a political statement. Of what? I have no idea. I just like saying that when people ask.

Our last stop on this tour is the bar.

Yes, a bar. An entire room dedicated to a bar.

What the H am I going to do with a bar?

I turned it into a “homework” bar because nothing makes me want to drink like fourth grade homework.

Ps: we don’t drink.

So there you have it.

You’ve met Brenda (part of her anyhow). So come on over for a visit (assuming I know you personally, sorry).

Just be sure to knock loud and watch your step.


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Some authors send out newsletters monthly, others weekly, but let’s face it. I’m not that together. You’ll hear from me whenever I have something really important to say. So basically twice a year, if at all…


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