She’s 5’1″, but she likes to say she’s 5’3″ even though it’s obvious she isn’t.

She’s often annoyingly perky. So gosh darn perky. It’s like she never put her cheerleading days behind her.

She’s blonde. Well, she’s gray, but she pays money to become blonde. (although I told her once I’m done with school I’ll do her hair for free.) Its the least I could do considering she brought me into the world free of charge.

She cries so much. It’s on a whole other level. Us women cry, and we cry often. BUT THIS WOMAN CRIES ABOUT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. Bachelor season finale – cries. Michael Jackson died a million years ago -cries.

She doesn’t like coffee, she likes the smell, but refuses to drink it.

She used to garden. She had a big garden, and she was good at it.

She cuddles. She always wants to cuddle. It’s a good thing she had a second child because her and Braxton were made to cuddle, my dad and I not so much.

She spoils the dogs, but she’s secretive about it.

She’s a cradle robber. My dad was a baby when she married him, she’s a whole 3 years older than him.

She thinks wine is a fruit because it came from grapes. She prefers white wine. Red is too sweet.

She loves celebrity gossip/news.

She’s a nurse.

She gets very excited about sports even though all she watches is the Super Bowl, Olympics, and my brothers XC meets. She cheers louder than anyone.

Did I mention she cries a lot?

She worries. She called me upset a few days ago because I hadn’t informed her if I had been locking my doors at night, thus she spent all night worrying.

Her favorite color is yellow. Which matches her perky personality.

She likes to buy lawn ordainments.

She’s not very strong, in fact she’s hilariously weak, she can’t lift much.

She also can’t throw. Often times she throws something and it lands behind her.

She shops, it’s a passion of hers.

She loves church.

She is a million different things, she is my mother. And I can’t wait to be just like her when I grow up.


The Fam

I come from a small family. I have a mom and dad (most of us do, that’s’ how we got here), and a little brother.

This is us. A long time ago.

Mark + Vicki + Braxton + Selina = family.


My parents are parents. They work and do whatever it is people with full-time jobs and two kids do.

So basically they work, sleep, and pay bills.

Sometimes they get really crazy and stay up past 9:30. That’s on a rare occasion though.


This is Mom. I forget sometimes her real name is Vicki, because in my mind her legal name is Mom.

Anyways, mom likes to sleep often, but she gets up at the crack of dawn. Mom also has a passion for power walking. She’ll walk around the neighborhood in any weather. She’s cute, I love her.

She works too much. She also cries at anything. I’m pretty sure she’s cried watching the season finale of The Bachelor. 

She’s a lovely women though, God blessed me with her.When I go to heaven I need to remember to thank Him for her.

She’s put up with a lot.

That’s all I have to say about Mom.


This is Dad. He works too much as well. I miss him. I look the most like him, and I act the most like him. He’s a fairly chill guy. He likes to lecture you until you fall asleep (don’t tell him I said that).

Dad also likes to fish…likes, is an understatement. My mother is not my dads first love, fishing is. He doesn’t care if he caught 100 fishes or zero. All his fishing buddies (we call them his “girlfriends”) share this bizarre passion for fishing too.

How I feel about fishing, is how he feels about makeup. Meaning, I’m sure it’s great, but not for me.


This is Sibling. I have many names I call him but the top three are Sibling, Baby Brother, and Braxy. Clearly my “little” brother is not so little. He’s 16 and 6 ft tall.

This kid is my BFF.

You know how people say twins have telepathy? Well we do too. We speak fluent sibling.

My sibling is the best. I love him. I’m also very protective of him. I can make fun of him, and laugh at him, but until Hell freezes over no one else can.

My favorite thing ever is that I got to grow up with my best friend. I used to dress him in my clothes (I loved putting him in skorts) He didn’t know the difference. I was his sister and I told him to do it so he listened.

We got to go to France for two weeks over the summer and that was the most amazing experience.

One of the oddest things in life is watching your sibling grow up. Braxton may be 6ft, run cross country, drive a car, and have a girlfriend.

In my mind, however; Braxton will always be 4 years old, afraid of anything, play with Hot Wheels, and think girls have cooties.

No matter what may happen, this is my family. My “ride or die” as the kids say it these days.

No one can mess with them. If they try, they’ll have to go through all 5’2 of me first.