Coffee, Chaos and Crayons : My Story

 

Coffee, Chaos & Crayons: The Story of a Chef, a Mom, and the Little Girl Who Never Stopped Dreaming

Hi, I’m Calypso.

Well… technically, I’m a lot of things.

I’m a mom of four girls, a certified chef, a children’s book author, a digital artist, a lifelong lover of adventure, a professional chaos manager, and someone who has reheated the same cup of coffee approximately 47 times because motherhood apparently requires the ability to forget your drink exists.

Welcome to Coffee, Chaos & Crayons — a place where we celebrate the messy, magical, hilarious, and sometimes completely ridiculous moments that make up life.

Before I was a mom with a house full of noise, toys, and snack requests every five minutes, I was just a little girl with a big imagination.

The Little Girl With a Pencil in Her Hand

My story started in Valley Stream, New York, where I was born and lived until I was seven years old. When I was seven, my family moved to a condo complex in Westchester, New York, while my parents worked on building their dream home in Pennsylvania. At twelve years old, we officially made the move to Pennsylvania and started a whole new chapter.

Growing up, I was lucky enough to grow up with my sister by my side.

I am one of two sisters, and my sister has always been so much more than just my sibling. She is my best friend, my biggest supporter, and one of the strongest people in my life.

She has been there through the ups and downs, the exciting moments, the difficult moments, and all the messy moments in between. She is the person I know I can call when I need someone, and I never have to question whether she will show up.

When I became a mom, that bond became even more special.

She isn’t just my sister — she is a second mom to my kids.

I know that when my children need someone, she will be there for them. I know they have another person in their corner who loves them, protects them, and supports them.

She is my rock.

She is the person who reminds me I can handle things when I feel overwhelmed. She celebrates my accomplishments, encourages my dreams, and believes in me even when I’m questioning myself.

Having a sister like that is a gift I never take for granted.

And honestly, I think growing up with that kind of love shaped the way I view family. It showed me that family is not just about sharing a last name — it is about showing up, loving deeply, and being there for each other through every season of life.

Even as a kid, I was always on an adventure.

If you couldn’t find me inside, there was a pretty good chance I was outside doing something I probably shouldn’t have been doing — but somehow survived.

I was fishing, catching bugs, playing basketball, playing softball, rollerblading around, or exploring whatever was around me. I was the kid who could happily spend hours outside getting dirty and making memories.

But I also had a quiet creative side.

You could find me sitting somewhere with a book, or laying in the grass drawing whatever my imagination decided to create that day.

And my imagination was busy.

When I was eight years old, I wrote my first little chapter book about a detective named Sir Artimus Specticles.

Was it a masterpiece?

Probably not.

Was it proof that I had stories living in my head that needed to get out?

Absolutely.

Looking back now, I realize that little girl was already becoming the person I am today.

I always wanted to create.

I always wanted to explore.

I always wanted to imagine something that didn’t exist yet.

Growing up, I had many dreams. I wanted to become a scientist, and for a while I was fascinated with forensic science. I loved solving problems, discovering answers, and figuring out how things worked.

I also always dreamed of having a big family.

Funny enough… I definitely got that part.

The Girl Who Found Her Way Into the Kitchen

My love for cooking started when I was only two years old.

Yes, two.

Apparently, most toddlers are busy making messes with crayons and toys, and I was over here making homemade meatballs with my grandmother.

Honestly, that should have been everyone’s first clue.

From that moment on, I was hooked.

I was constantly asking my grandma, my dad, my uncle, or my mom if I could cook with them or if they could show me how to make something.

Cooking was never just about food for me.

It was about people.

I grew up in a big Italian family where food was always at the center of everything. If there was a celebration, there was food. If there was a holiday, there was food. If there was a difficult moment, there was food.

Weddings, birthdays, promotions, funerals — somehow, there was always a big meal surrounded by family.

Food was how we showed love.

It was how we connected.

It was where stories were shared.

And I think that is where I learned that cooking isn’t just about what’s on the plate. It’s about the memories made around it.

The Kitchen Was My First Classroom

My hospitality journey started when I was thirteen years old at a local pizza shop.

My glamorous first job?

Folding pizza boxes and cutting pepperoni.

Not exactly the celebrity chef entrance you see on TV, but everyone has to start somewhere.

From there, a family friend started managing a new restaurant in town and gave me an opportunity that changed my life.

Between the ages of fourteen and fifteen, I worked my way through almost every position in that restaurant.

I started as a waitress.

Then I became a bartender and waitress.

Then a sous chef and bartender.

Eventually, I became the executive chef and kitchen manager.

By the time I left to have my first child, I had experienced almost every side of the hospitality world.

In high school, I attended a vocational school where I studied culinary arts and business. I wasn’t just learning how to cook — I was learning how businesses worked, how to lead, how to organize, and how to create experiences for people.

That is what I loved about hospitality.

It was challenging.

It was fast-paced.

It was creative.

It was organized chaos.

Which, looking back, was excellent preparation for motherhood.

A restaurant rush and four kids needing snacks have a surprising amount in common.

Both require patience.

Both require multitasking.

Both require problem-solving.

And both sometimes require the magical hospitality smile while internally thinking, “How is this my life right now?”

Working with people taught me so much. I met amazing people, built connections, learned time management, improved my organization skills, and opened doors to new opportunities.

It also taught me something about myself.

I love people.

I just prefer them when there is a purpose and a goal involved.

A crowded restaurant full of coworkers? Perfect.

A crowded room of random people? Suddenly I need a quiet corner and a snack.

One of the biggest adventures I took was moving to Tennessee for a job opportunity. I left two great jobs, packed my car, and moved to a state I had never lived in with a friend from high school.

It was a huge leap.

Unfortunately, when I arrived, the job was nothing like what I had been promised.

So after unpacking my life, I packed it right back up and headed home to Pennsylvania hoping I could get one of my old jobs back.

It wasn’t what I planned.

But it taught me that sometimes the unexpected turns become some of your biggest lessons.

The Plot Twist Called Motherhood

Before becoming a mom, I thought I knew what my life would look like.

Then life laughed and said, “That’s cute. Let me change everything.”

At the time, I was single and talking to a really good friend who was one of the first people I met after moving to Pennsylvania.

One night I asked him if he wanted to hang out.

So at 1 a.m., I picked him up.

And somehow…

He never left.

Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.

When I told him we needed to talk, it was actually pretty funny because he had just bought a PlayStation and thought my puppy had somehow done something to it.

Thankfully, that was not the conversation.

I was scared.

I was excited.

I was overwhelmed.

One of my biggest fears was wondering if he would want to be involved because we weren’t officially together.

But he surprised me in the best way possible.

Instead of running away, he stepped up.

He was excited, supportive, and immediately started taking care of me.

That was the beginning of our family.

Motherhood taught me something I never expected:

I am stronger than I thought I was.

I was built for this.

I will do anything for my family.

The funniest part?

I became a mom to four girls.

Four.

Girls.

Which is hilarious because I was the biggest tomboy growing up.

I was outside fishing, catching bugs, playing sports, and getting dirty.

Now I live surrounded by all things girl — and honestly, I love it.

Before kids, I pictured myself as the fun, sunshine-and-rainbows mom.

The mom with perfectly planned crafts and endless patience.

Reality?

I’m the overstimulated coffee mom who is winging it every day and wondering why nobody told me how many snacks children require.

The Person Who Helped Me Build My Dream Family

When I look back at the beginning of our story, I sometimes laugh because neither of us could have predicted where that random 1 a.m. pickup would lead.

What started as a friendship turned into the biggest adventure of our lives.

And honestly, I wouldn’t be writing this blog today if it wasn’t for him.

He didn’t just become the father of my children.

He became my partner, my teammate, and the person I get to take this crazy journey through life with.

From the very beginning, he showed me what it meant to truly show up.

When I was scared, he gave me reassurance.

When I was overwhelmed, he stood beside me.

When I questioned whether I could handle everything ahead of me, he reminded me that we were doing it together.

He stepped into fatherhood with a love and dedication that I will always admire.

Watching him become a dad has been one of the greatest gifts of my life.

He is the kind of father who plays, laughs, teaches, protects, and loves our girls with his whole heart. He is the person they run to, the person they look for, and the person who helps make our house feel like home.

He is not just someone who helps me raise our children.

He is an active part of creating their childhood.

He helps create the memories they will carry with them forever.

Building a family is not always easy. There are hard days, exhausting days, and moments where we are both standing in the middle of the chaos wondering how there are somehow more dishes after we just did dishes.

But that is the beauty of it.

We are doing it together.

We are learning together.

We are growing together.

We started with an unexpected beginning, but what came from it was something I always dreamed of — a big, loving, slightly chaotic family full of laughter and memories.

He has been my biggest supporter, my partner in the madness, and one of the biggest reasons I have been able to chase my dreams.

The chef.

The artist.

The writer.

The mom.

The woman I am becoming.

He has encouraged all of those pieces of me.

And while I may be the one sitting here writing these words, this story belongs to both of us.

Because this family we created is our greatest adventure.

The Beautiful Chaos of Four Kids

Having four kids is exactly what you would imagine.

And also somehow nothing like you imagined.

My favorite thing about having four kids is knowing they have each other.

Yes, sometimes they keep each other occupied while I desperately try to accomplish one thing on my never-ending list.

But more importantly, my house feels four times fuller.

Four times louder.

Four times more loved.

The funniest part of raising these girls is watching pieces of me and my boyfriend show up in them.

Sometimes it’s adorable.

Sometimes it’s hilarious.

Sometimes it’s a moment where we look at each other and think:

“Oh no… they definitely got that from us.”

A typical day in our house includes:

Kids arguing every five minutes.

Toys everywhere.

Endless snack requests.

Laughter.

Joy.

Complete and utter chaos.

But I’ve learned something:

Mom chaos isn’t bad chaos.

It’s the best chaos I could have ever imagined.

The messes are evidence that memories are being made.

The noise means they feel safe and happy.

The chaos means our home is being lived in.

And yes…

Sometimes the stress is my boyfriend.

(He knows I’m kidding… mostly.)

The moments that make everything worth it are endless, but the one that always gets me is seeing the love my kids have for me as their mom.

Being someone’s safe place is one of the greatest gifts in the world.

When my kids look back on their childhood, I don’t want them to remember perfection.

I want them to remember reality.

The good.

The bad.

The laughter.

The struggles.

The love.

Because a perfect childhood isn’t real.

But a childhood filled with love is.

The Little Artist Who Never Left

Before I was a mom, before I was a chef, before I was an author…

I was an artist.

I started drawing when I was around four years old.

I created my own beings — not humans, not monsters, just something completely my own.

My imagination has always been my favorite place to visit.

When digital art became possible, I started creating with Microsoft Paint on those old desktop computers.

And I thought it was amazing.

Because suddenly, the ideas in my head could come alive in a completely new way.

Creating fantasy and whimsical art still amazes me.

I can create any creature.

Any world.

Any setting.

Real or imaginary.

That is the magic of imagination.

Art gives me peace.

It gives me a sense of accomplishment.

It allows me to slow down.

My kids inspire so much of what I create. Their drawings, their ideas, and the way they see the world constantly remind me to think differently.

They help fuel my imagination.

From Drawings to Children's Books

Eventually, those drawings and ideas became stories.

My children inspired me to become a children's author because I wanted them to have books they could read, enjoy, and share with their friends.

I wanted them to feel happy.

I wanted them to feel creative.

I wanted them to believe anything was possible.

Most of my stories begin with characters I have created through my art.

Some characters have been waiting years for their stories to be told.

I have created mythical worlds, realistic worlds, outer space adventures, and everything in between.

Motherhood played the biggest role in my journey as an author.

My first published book was a collection of short stories, and each story was inspired by a memory I shared with my children.

I took little moments from our lives and turned them into stories.

Because that is what I love about books.

They preserve magic.

They preserve memories.

They allow us to hold onto moments forever.

Welcome to My Chaos

If there is one thing I hope for my family, it is that we stay wild, free, and full of love.

I hope my children grow up knowing they were loved fiercely.

I hope they remember the adventures.

The meals.

The stories.

The laughter.

The chaos.

In this season of life, I am learning who I was meant to be.

Not perfect.

Not always organized.

Definitely not always awake before my coffee gets cold.

Just me.

A mom.

A chef.

An artist.

A writer.

A storyteller.

A woman creating a life full of memories.

And that is what Coffee, Chaos & Crayons is all about.

The coffee for the long days.

The chaos for the beautiful mess.

The crayons for the imagination that never leaves us.

This is my story.

And I’m so happy you’re here for the adventure.

Welcome to my chaos. ☕✨