I'm Whitney. Welcome to my little slice of the Internet, where I talk about life in Seattle and our travels beyond it. I have a handsome husbro I may have met outside of a bar, two crazy felines, and a fresh little human born last spring. Do you like reality TV, sampling all the products, and pickled veggies? Me, too! 

I'm so glad  you're here. 

I Thought I Was Indoorsy

I Thought I Was Indoorsy

When we moved to Idaho when I was 14, I'd angstily wax poetic on how soothing it was to fall asleep to the sound of the rain patting against the roof at our house in Western Washington. I'd sigh and cry nearly every time I saw a tumble weed blow across the highway as my dad drove me to school. I'd sit inside and watch hours and hours and hours of TV. I read hundreds of books. I'd paint my nails, make collages for my school binders, talk to my friends "back home" on AOL. I spent so much time alone inside sulking that I never really thought about anything except school and books and my pets and Urban Outfitters and hating high school. 

I  CERTAINLY did not think I was outdoorsy. I do not think I am outdoorsy.

Here are a few reasons why:

  • I don't like sleeping in tents
  • I don't like sleeping on the ground
  • I don't like walking up hill in unpredictable weather conditions
  • I am a mosquito magnet
  • I don't like ruining my nails
  • I don't like smelling anything close to unshowered
  • I don't like bugs
  • I don't like wind
  • I don't like waking up really early
  • I don't particularly care for or about "critters" (rodents of any size)

You get it. I like my modern conveniences. I like to be warm and comfortable, curled up with a cat and a book under a heavy blanket by a roaring fire (even in the summer), undisturbed. Sometimes sulking. But not usually now. I've moved on from all that.

I like sweatpants and cozy socks and quarterly highlights and bi-weekly mani/pedis. I like Nordstrom. I like boozy, long lunches. 

When ODP arrived, we realized he liked to look and point at trees, and we thought maybe casually walking around mountainy areas might be a semi-enjoyable family hobby. As I've come to learn through driving all around the West looking and pointing at trees with our son, I am more outdoorsy than I thought—or remembered—I was:

  • I grew up riding horses and four-wheelers all over
  • I had a bug barn I would fill with bugs from our backyard and inevitably (inadvertently) kill 
  • I grew up riding on the back of motorcycles and in boats of all forms
  • I spent summers roaming around my mom's hometown on my bike, riding anywhere and everywhere
  • I've always split my time between city and country, so too much time in one or the other makes me antsy
  • I can't even count how many times I've been white water rafting
  • I don't mind getting dirty—I mostly mind getting smelly or not having IMMEDIATE access to a warm shower if I want it
  • I've had many a beer in the woods
  • Athleisure is my religion
  • Mom buns are my uniform
  • I am ALWAYS down for #views
  • I can be a pretty good sport when I want to be 

What I've realized is I had it all wrong. I put myself in a box of either I was outdoorsy or I was indoorsy, and I should have known better because boxing people in really bugs me. I often joke that I am a complicated human—that we all are—and I am full of beautiful, delightful contradictions. I am selectively outdoorsy. I am outdoorsy lite. Same great taste, fewer calories. 

I'm into it.

Quite honestly, I've never been happier owning my contradictions.

The One Thing I Hope My Dad's Cancer Teaches My Son

The One Thing I Hope My Dad's Cancer Teaches My Son

High Stakes + Unknowability = Parenting

High Stakes + Unknowability = Parenting