Hi! I’m Jennifer Jo.
I drink a large thermal mug of super strong coffee (half regular, half decaf) in the morning and then again in the afternoon, usually alongside something sweet like pie, toast with jam, or dark chocolate. Granola and yogurt are staple foods in this house, and I panic if I only have one pound of butter in the fridge—we go through at least four pounds a week. (And, as you can see by this brief, food-centered introduction, I think about food constantly.)
I have four kids.
They are all high-energy, nixy, and LOUD. I read to them a lot (for our on-going book list, go here), but I don’t play with them much—I expect them to do most of that on their own.
Also, they don’t much like to pose for pictures.
My carpenter husband drives a little white pick-up truck jam-packed with tools, and he can do just about anything with his hands. (Bonus, he makes Carhartts and tool belts look smokin’ hot.)
He’s also a kick-butt house cleaner, and makes a mean Christmas ham. It’s thanks to him and his introverted self that I am able to have so many out-and-about interests, not to mention this blog. And FYI, he might always look angry, but he’s not—just kind of bah-humbug scroogish.
I love him to pieces.
For the past several years, blogging has been my creative outlet of choice. I’m not always comfortable with this virtual reality business, but that hasn’t kept me from hitting the publish button, obviously. I try my best to keep my corner of the blogosphere authentic (though, cough-cough, I’m not above the occasional embellishment).
Frequently asked (or alluded to) questions that I made up so you wouldn’t have to, you’re welcome:
Are you of a particular religious persuasion?
Yep, I’m Mennonite. I’ve been a Mennonite for my whole live-long life. I went to a private Mennonite elementary school, a Mennonite college, and served three-years in Nicaragua under a Mennonite relief agency.
And then I married a Catholic boy.
But what about your faith?
Well, that’s a kettle of worms. I might start to talk about it some day, but my thoughts aren’t organized enough yet. Plus, I’m scared I’ll offend people.
What’s the wildest and craziest thing you’ve ever done?
Hands down, belly dancing on a runway in a packed restaurant. Makes me laugh hysterically every time I think on it.
What’s your dream date?
To send the kids away for a couple days and hang out at home with my husband, with each of us working on our own separate projects. Or maybe we’d join forces to clean the attic or organize the filing cabinet that hasn’t been cleaned for the last decade. In the evening, a movie and popcorn.
Do you and your husband fight?
Yes, and loudly. But not nearly as much as we used to! We’re getting old and mellow. It’s sweet, or boring, depending on how you look at it.
What’s your love language? What are you on the Myers-Briggs? What number are you on the Enneogram?
Pigeonhole me, why don’t you, geez! But since you asked, my love language is quality time and words of affirmation, I’m an ENFJ, and I’m a blow-your-socks-off 8.
What are you going to do when the kids grow up and leave you?
Jump up-and-down with glee, cry my eyes out, pat my sagging upper arms, and then…then….I don’t know. I have another decade or so before it happens—I’m hoping that’s enough time to figure the rest of my life out.
Do you have any piercings or tattoos?
Zilch. I did pierce my ears once, about seven years ago, but then they got infected and it hurt too bad and I quit. I’m a wimp about pain.
What kind of a child were you?
Large, loud, awkward, overly mature, and insecure. I gave my friends headaches and rarely felt like I fit in or belonged anywhere. Grades 8-10 were the worst.
What makes you tick?
People, food, writing.
Realistically speaking, I’m always trying to claw my way out from under their bickering, messes, and constant demands and get some blessed alone time. It’s getting better/easier/more enjoyable now that they’re getting older.
How do you teach your kids about sex?
I’m so glad you asked! This will be sure to answer all your questions and make your ears burn. And then there’s this.
Breast or bottle, crib or co-sleeping, cloth or disposable???
Breast, co, cloth (with disposable for trips and night times).
What’s your biggest fear?
Being burned at the stake, thanks to the martyr movies I watched when I was a kid. Such a good Mennonite upbringing I had…
Have more burning questions? Shoot them my way and I’ll add them to the list.
*My sourdough bread blog.
*More about me.
*On being foster parents.
*Kisses and bandaids: no TV in this house.
*Bits from the book I was writing with my mom (she quit, the stinker)