Hi!
My name is Kerri Green;
Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters
-Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige.
I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider,
a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things,
and the author of Mom Outnumbered;
a blog about real family life, and my observations of it.
My goal is to make people laugh,
to be there for them when they cry,
and most importantly,
to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world.
I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life.
So welcome!
Come in.
Sit down.
Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
I cannot exactly say that I am surprised. One of my very first memories is of the time our pet racoon got out of his cage, and roamed free. I was probably only a toddler then, but have a very vivid memory of watching it grab a banana for itself and...
I had asked her to come to have someone to talk to that didn’t only want to talk about details of what their coins bought on their video game. My friend, Lisa, sat next to me in the recliner. I hadn’t even gotten myself dressed that day. She jumped...
I saw a meme the other day that said, “It’s almost time to spend three days in the kitchen so the kids can eat this:” It then showed a picture of a single dinner roll. I laughed, and passed it on, knowing it was true. It garnered many likes from all...
Maybe you, too, wash the same exact dishes you did two days before, Hang up the same towel, Sweep the same floor. Maybe you wonder sometimes if anyone sees you at all; Your presence like a ghost they pass through in the hall. Giving your days over...
It was only her second counseling session. I waited outside in the car, staring at the way the raindrops dotted the windows the same way I used to notice them as a kid; Watching the way multiple small droplets blend, and then one heavy drop forms...
Apparently, I’m not needed anymore. Just a lowly, used up mother, set aboard a flaming canoe, clutching dried flowers, and shoved gently out to sea. Don’t even bother telling me that I’m not. Just leave me. *Dramatic pushing away* All I have left is...
HOCO. That’s what it’s called now. You apparently can’t just say “Homecoming,” unless you like being called a ‘Boomer,’ and having your teenagers make a Tik Tok about you saying it to make fun of you. But don’t you dare say “HOCO,” either, because...
So often it feels like the same old thing: Wake up, do the chores, drive the places, cook a thing. Over and over – Lather, rinse, repeat. Maybe it’s these middle years; Now past the ones filled with changing diapers and cleaning off finger...
The last month as a mother has emptied me of myself. It’s been the hardest one I think I have ever had. I am grasping tight to all that I know, but feel like I’m losing everything I’m fighting for right through my finger cracks. My girls’ mental...
I was just lifting my coffee mug to my lips, when suddenly my husband was leaning over to me, phone in hand. His eyes were big, and immediately searching my own. On his screen there was a message from a mutual friend of ours: “School shooting threat...