Anne Marie is the mother of four boys. One is already shaving. Two still believe in Santa Claus. One is in the middle, some days wishing he needed a razor and some days wishing he could still make-believe like he used to. Anne Marie adores her sons (most of the time) and still regularly sheds tears about her babies growing up. Her life is complete when a loaf of bread's in the oven and she's sitting in the middle of a dozen library books scattered on the floor. She loves figuring out conundrums, especially ones like who really is the best Jane Austen man? Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightley? While her housekeeping skillz are unremarkable, she plays a fierce game of Sorry. Once in a blue moon, Anne Marie slips away to the office and hammers away at the computer keyboard, trying to figure out this thing called mothering.