Kelli Martinelli

My name's Kelli. Last name Martinelli. It's the third last name I've had in this lifetime but the first one that belongs to me alone. I'd live without a last name if I could, but having a last name that fits who you are is like a owning a durable pair of purple rainboots and then dancing through the puddles. And frankly, I like the cadence. And as a wise man once said: “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” 

 In the in-between years that I find the time to blog, I write most about trying to live a life with less garbage, about being divorced and maintaining a positive relationship with my ex, and about being a single mom living precariously on a shoestring budget to two kickass kids, The Riv and Magnolia. Also, I have found my true love in a man called Cransky.  He speaks a language I sometimes don't understand (I still don't know the difference between a gigabyte, megabyte and flea bite) and thinks the snow is soft and fun and not a broken noggin' just waiting to happen. Dexter is the furry one who chases his own tail and bites at ants.

 I also write for gDiapers. We're dead-set on eliminating disposable diapers, down to the last Elmo-emblazoned or dyed brown plastic poo-catcher, something that really should never have been permitted to take such convenient root in the first place.

 So here I am. I'm Kelli. I'm really REALLY glad you stopped by. Next time bring wine. And I'll make a pie. 

 

Listen To Your Mother Came to Portland

Listen To Your Mother came to Portland. I know. I was there. 32 cities across the country each produced a local show that featured 90 minutes worth of stories that were honest, shocking, raw, inspirational, validating, familiar, hilarious and new. Over a thousand stories that took the stereotype of motherhood -- any stereotype: soccer mom, adoptive mom, stay at home mom, sitcom mom, hippy mom, absent mom -- and tore them open to reveal a unique portrait of human life. ...more

Thank you, Scott Bakula.

 ...more

Mommy? What Is Raping?

tippity tap tap tap *pause* tippity tap tap tapSo went the sounds of me Facebooking, hunched over the laptop while awkwardly standing up, one foot through the doorway and in to the kitchen so that I felt that I was successfully multi-tasking. And then came these words:"Mom? What's raping?"...more
Iiona V  Oh wow. I haven't yet been face to face with that situation. I feel like my heart would ...more

Snow Day Voodoo

~journal entry to my kidlets on the onset of Snowpocalypse 2014 ~ It's a full on, can't be argued with, bright-skied, still-wind, crisp-yet-fluffy SNOW DAY. And I'm pretty positive you two kiddos made it happen. ...more

Blog Neglect: The Guilt. The Reason.

Well hello. You might remember me from such titles as ... this blog. You know, the one with my name on it? Here, let me brush the dust off the banner. There. See now? Yeah, that's my name. And lately, this is the place where words go to wait.  (Here's where I tangent and head over to photoshop where I will spend far too long doodling an image of a waiting room filled with Words flipping through pages of People.) ...more

Another parent's take on the lie of Santa.

"My friend doesn't believe in Santa anymore." ...more

Salt Dough Magnets and Ornaments

Salt Dough Recipe(I see you're skipping dinner ...) 2 cups flour (go cheap, save the Bob's Red Mill for eating) 1 cup table salt (not kosher, not sea salt, you want fine grain) 3/4 cup water ...more

New Food Night and Magnets That You Shouldn't Eat

There was a time when I made a deal with my non-foodie kids: I'd commit to mac n cheese once a week if they'd commit to New Food Night every other weekend. New Food Night meant picking a whole new recipe together, shopping together, cooking together, and then eating the whole thing without complaints. If you finished New Food Night dinner, you got New Food Night Dessert. Easy enough. And then the calendar happened. ...more

Foraging Hippie Makes Dirt Gravy

So yesterday Cransky and I went tromping through the woods with baskets and knives (along with the Crocodile Dundee of mushroom hunters. We'll call him Mark.) Markodile Dundee made sure we didn't eat anything that would make us barf. Very kind of him. Also, I saw a chipmunk. We emerged with more chanterelles and hedgehogs than I could have hoped for: ...more

Grab your pantyliners and tissues ...

 Listen To Your Mother is coming to Portland!...more