Well, hello. Let me introduce myself.
Mother, partner, bulldog lover, and writer.
I’m Carly. I’m Canadian. Torontonian to be more specific.
I've been a mumma since I was 15 and I have two sons born 18 years apart (almost to the day).
I'm married to a lovely, very smart, stubborn-as-hell Taurus who has never managed to close a drawer or cupboard, even though his competency in opening them is unparalleled. I love and raise bulldogs — they are also lovely but stubborn, and terrible at cleaning up after themselves.
If I ate pasta for every meal I would be happy. But I don't, so sometimes I am sad.
However, I live by the motto 'If you don't laugh, you'll cry,’ so I can be mostly found giggling. (Uproariously so if I manage to make someone clutch their pearls.)
This is my dog. Her name is Clover. She is a Leavitt Bulldog, which is a name that makes sense since I spend much of our time together saying, “Clover, leave it. LEAVE IT. For goodness sake, you’ll die if you eat that.” The spot between her nose and her top lip is velvety soft and excellent for kissing.