What "home" really is.

If you read my last blog post, then you know I (along with my family) have moved back to the Bay Area.  I am the newest reporter for KGO Radio and loving every minute of it.

But the actual move was NOT easy.  Especially for my little girl.

When we first decided we were moving, I told Marley that we were saying goodbye to this house (the one in Sacramento) and would be moving in with grandma and grandpa for a while until our new house was ready.

I know she is only two and a half.  I know she can only understand so much.  But I did the best I could.  I included her in the packing.  I kept reminding her about the move.  I even brought her back to the house when it was empty so we could say goodbye together.

But after driving two hours to my parents house, the moment she walked through the front door, she broke my heart.

With tears in her eyes she said, "I want to go home."

I tried to explain that we don't live there anymore.  I reminded her that we said goodbye.  But she just sobbed in my arms...saying over and over again, "I want to go home."

(Just writing that makes me tear up.)

Once she calmed down, I asked her if she knew what "home" really is.

She said no.

 I said, "Home is where Mama, Daddy, Dylan and you are together. THAT is home".

In this business, you often have to move a lot.  It can be hard.  But the lesson I am teaching my daughter is one I am learning myself.

Home is not an address, but rather a feeling.

Because no matter where my bed is or what zip code I live in, when my children are asleep nearby and my husband's arms are wrapped around me, I am home.

Life changes...keep 'em coming!

I don't know what it is, but each time I have had a baby, another major life change is put before me. Like having a baby isn't a big enough change.

When I had my daughter in 2009, I was back at work for just two weeks when I was offered a job in Los Angeles. The timing wasn't right and I passed.

In June, I had my son.  I just got back to work last Tuesday and my final day will be this Friday.  It's another job offer, this time from KGO Radio in San Francisco.

I'm a Bay Area girl.  I was born and raised in San Jose and actually did my college internship at KGO.  It is the one station I said I would work at when I graduated with my degree in journalism.

And now that dream has come true.

But I have to admit, it wasn't an easy decision to make.  I knew I wanted the job.  That was about it. But I am a Sacramento homeowner, my daughter has friends, WE have friends and a life that I love. 

Plus I just had a baby!  

I know some people say, "just commute!"  Easier said than done.  When I calculated gas and time away from my family (and newborn son), it just didn't make sense to stay. 

So after accepting a work schedule that will still allow me to raise my kids most of the week, we're moving back to my hometown.  My parents and in-laws will be watching the kids, which I am sure will lead to some hilarious future blog posts.

We have started packing (God how I HATE packing!) and will be making the big move in a few short days.  There will hugs, maybe some tears, but hopefully more laughter and excitement at what's to come.

Because if I have learned anything in my nearly six years here, it's that anything you want in this world is yours for the taking.   

To my friends at KFBK...thank you.  Thank you for teaching me, laughing with me and...putting up with me. I know things will be MUCH quieter without my loud voice booming throughout the newsroom. I will never forget any of you and I know our paths will continue to cross.

To those who I have met along my news travels, please know San Francisco is not THAT far away.  Let's continue to collaborate and make some radio gold.

And to those in San Francisco...I'm coming!  I can't wait to bring my personality to the city. 

You might need some earplugs!

Get a life woman!

I try hard not to judge.  I often fail, but I do try.  But what I witnessed this past weekend was so dumb on so many levels that I can't help but blog about it.

I was able to hit up Sacramento's chalk-it-up event at Fremont Park. (GREAT event, by the way.  Marley had a blast!)

Anyways, knowing that there would be colored chalk, oh, I don't know...EVERYWHERE, I put some black stretch pants and a pink tank top on Marley.  She had a ball sitting on the ground and coloring all day long.

At one point when Marley was coloring, a 5-year-old girl came up and starting using Marley's chalk.  Marley became a little upset, since it was HER chalk, but we had a quick talk about sharing and everything turned out fine.  That is until the girl's mother literally ripped her daughter a new you-know-what in front of everyone!

The girl's mistake?  Wearing white shorts that were now covered in colored chalk. 

It all started when the mother told her daughter to not sit on the ground.  But then  this mother turned around and started playing with hula hoops, leaving this child to make one of two decisions.  Listen to mother and just stand here while SHE has all the fun or plop down with this two year old (Marley) and color.  Guess which one she chose?

So after Mommie Dearest had her fill of the hula hoops, she turned and saw her little girl was donning more colors than Joseph's Technicolor Dreamcoat. 

"Oh my GOD!!  Look at your shorts!!! Didn't I tell you NOT to sit on the ground?  They are totally ruined!  This is why I never want to buy you clothes! 
(After taking a picture of shorts with iPhone) "Look at your butt!  Look! LOOK!!
(Now mommy's man is noticing everyone staring) "Uh, I think you're freaking out a little."
"Don't tell me I'm freaking out!!!" 
"You are in SO much trouble!!"


And off this pair went, the mother screaming bloody murder over a pair of shorts and the little girl not ONCE uttering a single sound.  No tears, no apology...nothing.

And that tells me one thing.  This little girl sees her mother "freak out" regularly. And why?  Because a pair of shorts had chalk all over them??

How about this mother dear?  Next time you are bringing your child to an art event, leave the designer shorts at home. 
She's five. She is going to get dirty.  Any parent worth their salt knows at least that much. 
So instead of caring so much about the fashion on your child's behind, how about putting a little love and patience in your own heart?