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Womanhood is a competitive sport.

I learned this lesson early on, sitting in the backseat of a two-toned-blue Suburban on the way home from church, listening to my mom talk about who had made the best showing at the bi-monthly potluck.  Being declared the winner of the church potluck was no easy feat.  The unofficial entrants were older country ladies with their family-secret recipes and young mothers with hearty casseroles designed to satisfy a brood of children while stretching the budget.  It wasn’t fancy food, just tasty, homemade dishes that fed the body and the soul... and gave fuel to the competitive fire.  It was a point of pride for my mom that, at least in her own judgement, she usually “won” potluck.

That same competitive spirit is everywhere in womanhood.  For better or worse, we compete for best dressed, most complex meal, most beautiful dessert, prettiest decorated room, and cutest craft.  Like any athlete, we train.  We hone our skills by watching home improvement shows, flipping through fashion magazines and reading a litany of blogs devoted to every hobby, craft, design style and cooking niche under the sun.  We compete with each other, with society’s ideas and, most importantly, with ourselves.  We strive to be, do and achieve all.   Between careers, homes and families, we have more balls in the air than any juggler.  Which is good, because “Who can fit the most on their plate” is a competition unto itself. We need to be SuperWife, SuperMom, SuperWoman.  The competition isn’t necessarily bad.  It can give us the little push we need to achieve a little more, to be a little more.  

But what if...

What if you didn’t get bitten by the radioactive spider, or whatever it is, that turns you into SuperWoman?  What if your idea of being a Domestic Diva is getting the laundry folded... mostly? What if, when the potluck sign-up sheet comes your way, all you can manage is drinks, or worst, napkins?

I’m that girl.  

I’m an ok cook.  My decorating skills are adequate.  I can usually put together a fashionable outfit. I get most of the stuff on my to-do list checked off eventually. I won’t be getting a gold medal in any of the Home Economics categories. I struggle.  But that’s ok, because I suspect you might struggle too.  I think many... most... all of us struggle sometimes.

Even though I’m not SuperWoman, I’m excellent at one thing... convincing people I am.  

My husband, friends, and family would probably tell you that I’m very domestic.... an excellent cook, a great wife, a pro at juggling everything.  Even though I am trying, I mostly just have them fooled.

I believe in faking it until you make it.  I think you can make a great meal in minutes, with simple ingredients and basic skills. I like to get a great deal, without being a crazy couponer.  I enjoy a good craft project, without a million steps and supplies.  I like to try new things, even if they don’t always work out.  

That’s the stuff I want to share.  I want to talk about ways to be a real woman, on a real budget, with real time constraints.  When you visit this site, you’ll see tips and tricks for yummy meals and awesome desserts that anyone can make.  We’ll talk about ways to connect with our spouses, friends and family, without needing a psychology degree. I’ll share some home decorating ideas that you don’t need to be an interior designer to pull off.  We’ll look for ways to make over-the-top, fancy things, doable.

I hope you find something you can use here.  I hope you take away one thing that someone oohs and aahs over and makes you feel like you won at womanhood.  

The truth is, I’ll never be SuperWoman.  I might never win at potluck.  But, that’s ok because I’m doing the best I can.  I’m just Faking It, Domestically.  




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