Turning 33

Age is just a number. I've always felt that and I've always believed that. We are as young or as old as we feel. When I was sixteen I felt thirty-five. After long days chasing Angel around I feel like a hundred and fifty. Today though, I am thirty-three.

Yes, I am a Christmas Eve baby. I came screaming into this world at 8:02 pm December 24, 1978 and I have been screaming ever since. I've grown up and grown older with the typical issues associated with a holiday birthday. The ever typical two gifts in one was always my biggest peeve as a child. My birthday has nothing to do with the holiday that comes right after it. If your birthday is July 3 I don't hand you a sparkler and say happy birthday, do I? When you're a kid though all you want is your day filled with presents and cake and friends and more presents. My family always made an effort to separate the days and I will always be grateful for that.

Then I got older. See I'm an oddball in the sense that I actually still enjoy my birthday. I don't care about the number attached to it. I like that I have had another year, that I have experienced new things, that I'm still here. So I want the presents and the cake and the friends and more presents. I still wanted my separate day too. Today is my day and I didn't want it lost in the holiday.

Last year I was pregnant and married and turning thirty-two. I was an army wife in a new place with a new life and starting a new journey. I couldn't even begin to fathom what being thirty-two was going to be like, the adventures it would bring, the joys, the sorrows, the surprises. My husband got me a pair of beautiful diamond earrings last year and I thought they were the nicest gift ever.

A week and a half later I gave birth to my son. Maybe it was a little late but without a doubt, he has been the best gift I could have ever received.

Today I turned thirty-three. My husband got up and got my son up and changed. While I fed Angel Nick made me breakfast. For lunch/dinner he got me Chinese as has been my tradition for many many many years. My boys got me a wonderful new camera because it was all I wanted this year and I love it. And to top it all off, they got me a birthday cake. Yes, a birthday cake despite being told I was too old for one years ago.

It was the best birthday I have ever had and yet as wonderful as it was I only wanted one thing. For it to be tomorrow so I could give my little boy his first Christmas.

It isn't about me anymore. I will have more birthdays. I will grow up and grow older. I will always be grateful for the day and for the joys that come with it, but for the rest of my life my day will always come second to the days I want for my son.

Maybe it's because I have gotten older. Maybe it's because I've been a mom for almost a year now. Maybe it's because of something I can't put my finger on. All I know is thirty-three is still just a number and for every year that number goes up I'll be grateful I got to spend it with my wonderful husband and my amazing son.

Happy birthday to me!

Going bald

I think I might be going bald. I would say I was going grey but since I was born with strands of grey hair that doesn't bother me. However, I do think I'm going bald because I'm quickly beginning to pull all my hair out.

Being the mother of a toddler is without a doubt exhausting. I spend more time trying to keep my son out of trouble then I do playing with him I think. He is everywhere and touching everything right now. Power outlets, surge protectors, the computer tower, the satellite box, the book shelf, every tiny piece of anything that isn't suppose to be on the floor, my shoes, my husband's boots, any unstable piece of furniture he can find, any anything else that you could think of that could hurt, maim, or kill Angel will find and/or do. He is your every day average toddler exploring the world around him and testing the limits his Mommy has set for him. I spend more time in my day saying "no, sir," "don't touch that," "come back here," I said no," "that's not safe," "that's dangerous," and my personal favorite "Angel Joaquin!" then any other phrase in a whole week.

If I walk into the laundry room he crawls in right behind me and goes for whatever he isn't suppose to have. If I go to the bathroom there he is playing with the scale. Into the bedroom and he goes right for my husband's PT shoes that are covered in mud. No matter where I go or what I do my little boy is on my heels and determined to wreck havoc right behind me.

In fact, it has taken me well over and hour to right this blog so far because I have had to save his life so many times. :-) Normally, I would have waited to write this but that was the experiment I was going for.

Laundry, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, dusting, cleaning of any kind has to be done while he sleeps or else he tries to "help" me. Picking up toys, well he watches me pick them all up then goes and pulls them all back out. If I leave the baby gate down to the kitchen he crawls in and decides to play with Lieu's water bowl, my poor dog.

The best part of all those is the tantrum that comes when I do stop him/save him. Big sad crocodile tears and the loudest crying imaginable. I can tell him no in the sweetest voice ever but because he has begun to learn what he isn't suppose to do it's like I've screamed at him at the top of my lungs. It's really funny because ten seconds later he will laugh at me.

I'm exhausted and stressed out and going bald because I'm pulling all my hair out! It sounds horrible, doesn't it? Being a mom is without a doubt the hardest job I have ever had (including working for Lowe's). Being a mom though is the most amazing thing I have ever had the privilege of doing. I wouldn't trade a single moment of it. Angel is my miracle and though he drives me to my breaking point at times he is the reason I smile every day, the reason I laugh and sing silly songs and tickle till we cry. He makes me happy and grateful. I wouldn't trade my worst moment with him for my best moment before him.

So I'm going bald. They make wigs for women with that problem. Maybe I'll go blonde!

So thankful

So as previously stated, I'm not much for Thanksgiving. It's really only good for the day off in my opinion. So the subject of this blog is kind of ironic I think. I want to tell you what I'm thankful for.

My mornings start exactly the same every day and the end exactly the same every day and I'm more than thankful for that. It's this morning that reminds me what wonderful things I have in my life.

I wake up every morning to the sounds of my son playing in his crib. I have woken up to those same sounds for almost eleven months now and I have been grateful for every one of those mornings. I'm grateful for how patient he is while I make his breakfast and feed our dog, Lieu. I am grateful for that smile that greets me when I open his bedroom door and the way he reaches for me to pick him up out of bed. I'm grateful for the way he babbles at me while I change him and how he snuggles with me when he drinks his milk. For the way he smiles at me while I feed him and the way we dance when he is done. For the giggles I hear when I put him in the living room to play and the way he claps his hands when I turn Nick Jr. on. That's the start to my day every morning, rain or shine.

I end my days the same every day too. Curled up on the couch watching TV with a man that loves me and that I love more than anything. We watch a show or movie and hold hands or cuddle. We talk about our days and what we want to do tomorrow. I'm thankful for that time I get with him at the end of our busy days. I'm thankful for the way he smiles at me after four years together. I'm thankful that he appreciates the meals I cook for him, the house I clean, the child we have that I spend my days raising. I'm thankful for the work he does, the crap he has to put up with and that he does it so our family can be better. I'm thankful for the way he always hogs my blanket on the couch and I have to pull it out from under him because that means we will with curl up under it together after I get it. I'm thankful for the way we brush our teeth together and how he kisses me goodnight every night. I'm thankful that the last thing I hear every day is "I love you."

I'm thankful for the way my days start and for the way they end and for all the things in the middle. I'm thankful for my dog, Lieu, who has been my best friend for five and a half years now. Since the day she was born, my little white tipped tail puppy, she had been my love. I can't imagine my life without her. I'm thankful for text messages from my sister that tell me my beautiful niece has done something new and wonderful. I'm thankful for my mom who is willing to send me her gas card so we can spend Thanksgiving together. I'm thankful for my dad who calls randomly just to ask how his grandson is doing and for my step-mom who took the time to call and find out what size he is wearing for clothes for Christmas. I'm thankful for a brother-in-law who took the time to get to know me when other members of his family had decided to hate me. I'm thankful for both of my nieces and the amazing little girls they are. I'm thankful the army for giving my husband a job and for Lowe's. Without Lowe's I wouldn't have half of the amazing things in my life and I wouldn't know the love and joy I have every day.

So many more things to be thankful but those are some of the most important. I'm thankful for the blessing that is my family, for the little boy who randomly looks at me with a toothy grin, for the husband who walks by and kisses me, for my dog who just wants to love me. My blessings, big and small. I wouldn't trade a single one and I hope as I get older I am always as thankful as I am right now.

Changing seasons

I love this time of year. I love the change in the air and the way the leaves fall. I love curling up under a blanket with my husband and watching my son crawl around in his footie pajamas. I love drinking hot chocolate and sipping warm soup. I love wearing big warm sweaters and wrapping myself up in my husband's arms to stay warm. With all these things in mind I add this, I hate being cold. I love all the things that come with it though.

I love racking leaves into a big pile and jumping in. I'm looking forward to the day when Angel is old enough to enjoy doing it with me. I love pulling on my fleece jacket I stole from my husband and going on evening walks with my family in the cool air. I love turning the heat and on getting my all too squirmy little boy to snuggle into my lap.

I love the approaching holiday too. So many things to look forward to and enjoy. I myself have never been very big on Thanksgiving. For me, I associate it with eating turkey and falling asleep watching football. I don't really like turkey and I hate football. So honestly, it's a day I could skip over. I do enjoy the other cooked goodies and the fact that my husband gets the day off so I will take it. This year we will be travelling to North Carolina for the holiday. Maybe I don't really like Thanksgiving but that doesn't mean I don't want Angel exposed to it and the family that loves him.

Then comes the fun of Christmas. Our first family Christmas with our son. I couldn't be more excited. I can't wait to decorate and play Christmas carols and read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to Angel. I want to make cookies for him and do fun artwork. I want to take him to see Santa Claus and do milk and cookies on Christmas Eve. I know that for the most part he won't care about any of this. He won't quite be a year old yet. For me though, it's going to be the best Christmas ever.

I love spring and summer and swimming and be in the sun and going to the park and being warm. I love fall and winter though and the adventures that come with them.

So curl up with the ones you love. Your spouse, your children, your fur children, whoever you would like. Curl up with the ones you love and be thankful for the change in seasons that gives you a reason to curl.

Bits and pieces

So it was recently pointed out to me by my fabulous cousin, Lindsey, that I'm a lot more creative then I realized.

I know there are a millions little bits and pieces that make up me but I suppose sometimes I forget about some of them. I'm a writer by heart. I have been since I was thirteen years old. I can remember the exact moment I decided that was who I wanted to be. I'm also a photographer (though not nearly as good as my baby sister who does it professionally). I can still picture the first photograph I ever took that made me think that was something I really enjoyed. After ten years working with children I am a master at creative kid art. I have the pine cone ornament I hang on my Christmas tree every year that I made in high school with my first class. Crayons, paint, glitter, string, glue, macaroni. You name it and I can create something with it. Or at the very least help a really cute kid create a really cool picture.

There is something that I forget about on a regular basis though. Something I've been doing since I was five years old. My grandmother, my dad's mother, taught me how to crochet. When she passed away years ago she left me rolls and rolls of unused yarn so that I could continue to do what she had taught me. So here I am at almost thirty-three and I have continued to create with the skill she passed on to me. My son came home from the hospital wrapped in a blanket I made him. My niece spends her weekends playing with the purple blanket I made her before she was born. I'm in the process of making my previously mentioned cousin, Lindsey, a blanket for the little girl she is expecting. (Speaking of Lindsey, you should follow her blog. She's kind of awesome. http://morethanamommydiary.blogspot.com/) I love crocheting. I love creating something that someone can wrap themselves in. I love creating something that you can wrap someone you love in. I'm good at it too and I like getting compliments on my talent and I like that people appreciate the things I make.

So when my awesome cousin suggested I should sell the things I create I thought why not. I love doing it and you know what they say. Do what you love. So between being a wife, a mom, a writer, a photographer, and everything else I'm not making blankets. Find me on Facebook if you're interested. Wrapped In Love http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wrapped-In-Love/305100199517230.

Anyone the point in this post is to say thank you to Lindsey and to point out that there are a million bits and pieces to who we are. Don't forget about the ones you might not use every day because sometimes those are the pieces that make you the most interesting person in the world.

Happy Halloween and Blessed Be

Growing up I was like most kids. I loved Halloween for the candy and the costumes. It was always so much fun trying to figure out who I wanted to be and how much sugar I could get my hands on. As I got older it lost some of it's appeal but I still enjoyed it. I was never the teenager that went to costume parties so I lost myself in my younger sister's enjoyment of the holiday.

When I found my religion I found a new love for today. Samhain, the Wiccan new year. Its a day of new beginnings for me. I still loved the costumes and candy but I also found I loved new aspects of myself in that day because of my religion.

Today though was a new beginning of a different kind. Today I got to take my beautiful blessing and the world's cutest dinosaur, my son Angel, trick or treating with my husband. Today I celebrated the day with my family. I got that joy back I had as a kid. And even though Angel had no earthly idea what was going on and can't eat any of the candy he got I know today was important for my family.

Five years ago I never imagined I would have this experience in my memories. To walk about around army post housing with my husband carrying our almost ten-month-old is a dream come true for me. Watching my little boy stare at all the strange beings walking around was so funny. Seeing my husband take so much pride in how cute our son looked was so touching. Knowing they are my family is my miracle.

Though recently I have lost touch with my religion, today reminded me why I have faith in my beliefs. I am going to make an effort to find my way back to my beliefs and to show gratitude for those that control our fates. They gave me this beautiful blessing that was tonight after all.

Happy Halloween. Happy Samhain. Blessed Be!

One step at a time

So here we are four years after the accident that changed my life. The doctor says there is no medical reason for the pain I have been experiencing and since the pain has past I'm going to chalk it up to a passing injury. Maybe I pulled something or hurt it in a way I didn't realize. Regardless, I'm feeling better now and that's the most important thing.

I did learn a few things. One is that the smaller bone on the outside of my leg never healed. Funny, the surgeon told me it would heal without them having to do anything. I'm not worried though because it's not a weight-bearing bone. I also learned that my ankle has begun to show signs of ware. Kind of like when your tires start to lose their tread. I guess my ankle is losing some of it's tread. I knew something like that was a possibility. You don't do the kind of damage I did and not have long term consequences.

The good news is I am starting physical therapy next week. I need my mobility and my strength back because with every passing day Angel gets closer and closer to walking. In no time I'm going to be chasing my little boy around like crazy and I won't miss out on that because of a stupid injury.

I'm excited about this. I'm excited about being able to walk without pain, to run around the park, to be normal again. Or maybe not completely normal but very close. I'm excited to be a mom who has fun with her little boy.

Things are looking up for me. I may have my bad days just like anyone else but things are definitely looking up. I just have to take it one step at a time.

Don't blink

Wow, I can't believe it has been a month since my last blog. My apologizes to anyone following and may have missed my ramblings.

So much has happened in the last month I'm not sure where to begin.

My wonderful husband and I celebrated two years of marriage on October 1st. My mom came down for the weekend with my adorable niece and stayed with our son so we could have a weekend together. We booked a room at the Riverstreet Inn in Savannah, GA and had a romantic getaway. Just the two of us in a historic city, staying in a beautiful room, spending some much needed time together. It was wonderful. I still can't believe it has been two years already. Seems like just yesterday we were standing in the depressing room in front of a complete stranger committing to words neither one of us remember even hearing. We took the plunge in the simplest form because he was leaving in two weeks for basic training. Some day there may be a grand affair to celebrate the life we have built together, but on that day two years ago all we needed was each other. That's still true today. My husband always says it is me and him against the world. Well now it is me, him and Angel against the world but the feeling is still the same. It's been a crazy two years with a lot of ups and downs and some life changing changes. We've hung in there and made it through. I couldn't ask for a better man to spend my life with. Especially since I never thought I would spend it with anyone at all. My husband is my hero in every sense of the word. Two years down and this is only the beginning.

My beautiful little boy has acquired three words and he is only nine months old. Momma (of course), Dada (though that's not what we call my husband), and Papa (which is suppose to be Papi but we are working on that). We are working on Lieu (our dog and she is also Angel's best friend), more, and night-night. He is also starting to sign the world milk which makes me very happy.

Angel has also mastered crawling and is now crab walking and pulling up. He will even walk while holding on to my hands. While I am the proudest mom ever at all of these new accomplishments I am just a little sad at how fast it has all happened. Wasn't it just yesterday that I was sleeping on the couch with my little Snuggle Bear curled up on top of me? He just came home and already he is running for the door it feels like. Being a mom takes everything you have and takes it fast, but oh, the outcome is so worth it.

My husband found out his reenlistment option opens up in January. That means in that in less then six months we could be PCSing (moving for civilians) to another post. My husband desperately wants to go to Hawaii. His oldest brother was stationed there and is still there with his wife and daughter. Vinnie is the only one Nick is still close with in his family and it would mean a lot for them to be able to reconnect on a more basic face to face level. Not to mention I would love to meet my niece Kairi and have them meet Angel. At the same time the thought of leaving all of my family and going so far away is hard. I know this comes with being an army wife but that doesn't mean it is easy. We will see what happens in January.

Last week I had a CT scan done on my leg. The pain had actually stopped for about a week but oddly enough came back after the scan. I have a doctor's appointment on the 24th to discuss the results and see what is going on. Maybe I can actually get some help this time around.

Halloween is a week away and my little boy will spend his first Halloween as a dinosaur. I'm trying to teach him to say "roar" but I don't know if that going to happen in time. Then right around the corner is Thanksgiving which we will be going back to North Carolina for. Following very close behind is my husband's 24th birthday, my 33rd birthday, Angel's first Christmas, New Year's, and then my baby will be a year old on January 2nd.

Its flying by, time. I blinked two years of marriage went by. I glanced and my newborn is crawling across the room. I'm taking a deep breath and holding on tight to the ride I'm on. It's better then any amusement park in the world.

Keeping my head up

So remember how I brushed over that reference to pain in my leg yesterday. Well today I'm going to elaborate.

There are three titanium plates and thirteen screws in my right leg from that accident four years ago. Every day of my life I feel that hardware and I have become use to it. It's a part of me. Like my hair or my fingernails or the scar running down my leg where is was broken in the first place. It's an ugly scare too. I hate it. It is the first thing I see about myself when I see pictures of me in shorts and skirts. That hideous twelve inch scar running down the front of my right leg and the two inches that it runs to the left at the bottom. That scar is part of me though and has been for four years. Just like those plates and screws.

Now I feel pain every day. I've mentioned that before, but the pain I deal with on a daily basis is always in my ankle and I have learned to deal with it and push through it. Some things will never change or go away and you learn to make the best of it.

However in the last two weeks a new pain has appeared. A burning, sharp, often times unbearable pain and not in my ankle. This pain radiates at the top of the twelve inch scar where the surgeons cut my leg and put the plates and screws. There are moments where is it so bad that I burst in to tears and can not speak and the moments are becoming more and more frequent. My biggest fear is that this pain will strike me at a moment when my son is in my arms.

So I bit the bullet and called the doctor. For those of you that know me, you know I absolutely hate going to the doctor. In fact, the only time I ever enjoyed going was when I was pregnant because it meant learning my little boy was growing and healthy. I called though and got an appointment for this morning. Well two hours before said appointment I got a call cancelling. Why? Because the doctor it was with is no longer with them. (Anyone in the military or married to the military will learn this is far too normal a circumstance.) So I have another appointment on Monday morning.

My fear is this: more surgery. I've already had two dealing with this when it all happened followed by three months of bed rest and six months total of not walking on the leg at all. I can not go through that again. Not just because I don't want to but because I have a husband to take care of and a son to raise.

I'm hoping this is nothing and that it can be dealt with quickly and easily so keep your fingers crossed for me. I'm going to need all the luck I can get come Monday morning.

Time flies...

When you're having fun, but usually it flies by even faster when you're busy. Boy have I been busy. Between a sick baby, an injured husband, and a sick dog its a wonderful I haven't aged twenty years. Or maybe I have. :-)

It seems like every time I turn around something else is going on. First my sweet little boy started day care and that lead to him getting a cold that lead to an ear infection. That was followed by my sweet dog, Lieu getting her own ear infections and heart worms that cost over $300 in vet bills. To top it all off, my husband got hit in the face with a fire extinguisher followed by an infection from a spider bite that ended with a pulled muscle in his back. So if it could go wrong in the last month it has.

So besides what I am hoping is a minor issue with the broken leg from four years ago things are quieting down. The holidays are approaching quickly. And I know the next few months will fly by as well.

My two-year anniversary is in less two weeks. I can believe it. I've been married for two years and it's been a crazy two years. Basic training, AIT, a pregnancy, moving away from home to a new place, giving birth to a beautiful little boy and watching him grow, and falling more and more in love with the most amazing man.

In a month is Halloween, my favorite holiday. Angel's first Halloween. I can't wait to decorate and buy his first costume and take him treat or treating. Not so he can get lots of candy, but so I can show him off to the world.

In just over two months my husband will be twenty-four followed shortly by my own thirty-third birthday. Growing up and getting older. Not too mention it will be the first birthday for each of us as parents. A whole new spin on celebrating your own life.

Then comes Christmas. Angel's first Christmas. I can't wait to teach him the magic of Santa Claus and sugar cookies and decorating the tree and singing the songs. Not the presents, though we will enjoy spoiling him, but the other joys that come with the holiday.

Then the big day! Angel's first birthday! A celebration of a life that began with a rough few days and has become the most amazing little boy a mom can ask for. In less the four months I will celebrate my greatest miracle and begin the journey of his second year and all the amazing things he will teach me then.

It's going to be a crazy few months ahead but I promise to try and keep up with the blog more. And thanks to my two favorite bloggers who also posted today. You kicked my butt in to gear and I appreciate that. Oh and congratulations! To Lindsey for your amazing blessing and to John for your own blessing.

Off to enjoy my life and see if I can get it to slow down just a bit...

Superhero!

Yup, that's me. I'm just your average every day superhero. How so you ask? I'm a woman, a wife, a mom!

There are days when I don't do as much as I should. Sometimes the exhaustion gets to me and I can't do much more then be Angel's mom. I yawn more then I blink and the most housework I do is running the dishwasher. In fact, there are days when I nap when Angel naps because I am so tired.

There are days when I do EVERYTHING though. I am Angel's mom, his friend, his cook, his biggest fan. While I am doing these things I am also cleaning the house, cooking twice a day for myself and Nick, taking care of the dog, doing laundry (and there is a lot when you have a little person), spending time with my husband, working on my writing, writing my blog, and I have recently taken on the project of making baby blankets to possibly sell. In between all of these I have to breathe.

Am I any different from any other woman, wife, or mom out there. Nope! We are all superheros because we can do it all and still manage to keep our sanity. Yet few people realize all we do. In fact, sometimes we don't realize all we do.

Recently, I was talking to my husband and we came to realize I really do a lot. No more or less then anyone else yet we never realized how much. I'm a superhero, yes, but I'm only a superhero to my family. Just like you're a superhero to your family. Just like my husband is a superhero to me.

We all take on the world in our own ways. We are faster then a speeding bullet, stronger then the strongest, and able to manage our lives in the best of ways. Some days the kryptonite gets to us. Some days we are just Clark Kents. But even on our weakest days we are still superheroes.

Now I am off to take over the world! Or save it... I'll let you know the outcome.

One step at a time

So part of the journey to being a better me and a better wife and mother is being healthy. I've recently decided to put forth the real effort to not just purse my dream of writing but to be in the best shape possible for me.

That began with changing my eating habits. When you have an infant easy is always better. Fast, quick, and the least amount of clean up possible please. In the beginning you are so sleep deprived that cooking is dangerous because you may very well fall asleep in the middle of it. Then your tiny baby because this little person that you want to play with so much the thought of cooking and leaving him alone while you do it breaks your heart. So there is a lot of fast food in your life. Now I know this isn't true for everyone but in my case it was. My husband's idea of cooking is hot dogs... and that's it. It was so much easier to go through the drive thru or sit in a restaurant and let someone else cook it and bring it to you.

So this household has given up fast food and eating out for the most part. You can't cut yourself off completely because then you crave it so much that when you break you binge. We don't want that. So we are limiting our eating out to once a week and even then to make the healthiest choices possible. Not always easy in restaurants but I will do what I can.

My cooking is changing too. Healthier choices at home as much as out. More fish and chicken and less hamburgers and steak. Not to0 mention giving up the nightly routine of Reese cups. Cooking breakfast instead of something that comes out of the microwave and carrots over snack size bag of chips.

On top of the food there is the exercise. I'm a mom. Finding the time to exercise when my only free time comes during a nap is not so easy. Especially when you add in the laundry, dishes, sweeping, mopping, etc. that have to be done during these precious few hours of napping. When I can I take walks with Angel but some days it just doesn't work into the routine. So recently I've decided to just move more. I crank up the CD player and dance around the house. I can do it in one trip but purposely make myself take two. I dance with Angel. I dance with my husband. I just move.

Then there comes the most important part. My support system. My wonderful husband who does everything he can to encourage me to be better. He supports me and cheers me on. On the good days he is proud of me and on the bad days he reassures me I will have better days. He keeps me going and makes sure I don't give up.

All of this adds up to the ten pounds I have lost in the last week and a half. A pound a day is my goal and some days I exceed my goal.

I am going to be that mom who can run around with her little boy at the park. I am going to be that wife on my husband's arm that other men are jealous of. I am going to be a woman I am proud to see look back at me in the mirror.

Well maybe I've already done that last one, but it can't hurt to make her a little prouder. One step at a time.

Voices in my head

Growing up I always had voices in my head. So very man stories that I wanted to write about. People and places and scenes that played out and there was never enough time to write them all down. I spun so many stories that my stories bled into each other. Sequels, trilogies, series. So many different stories and characters spilling out of my head and yet sometimes the same ones would pop up over and over again.

It was my passion, what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I would write and have best sellers and sell millions and people would get lost in the worlds I created just like I got lost in them.

There aren't so many voices anymore. They faded over time, with age though I'm not that old. Now the voice in my head is mine and I find there is only one story that I want to tell. There are a million stories out there about Army wives. There is even a television show. There aren't my story though and I am more than just an Army wife. So I am writing my story. About being me, about being a wife, about being an Army wife, about being a mom, about being a daughter and a sister and a dreamer.

If I close my eyes I can still hear a couple of those voices. I can still play out the scenes and tell the stories in my head. Fiction is great, but there's nothing like reality and I have had one hell of a journey so far. Maybe not that many people would care, but I know I do. So maybe it isn't a best seller. Maybe it won't see millions. But it is still my passion.

Besides, sometimes the most important voice in your head is your own.

Voices from the past

Wow, it hit me today that its been 14 years since I graduated high school. I only realized this today because I heard a voice over the phone that I haven't heard since then. Its been 14 years since I was a kid. I say that only because that voice jokingly threatened to jump off a bridge from depression because she just realized we are old.

I don't feel old. I don't think I look old. Nope, I'm not old and I know that because of that voice.

I haven't laughed so much in ages. It's funny how people change and grow and yet there are others that no matter how much we change we can still laugh with. Maybe because we were friends 14 years ago. Or maybe because of the paths we have chosen we have things in our lives that make us friends now. Maybe it's because we both wear glasses. Maybe it's because she's tall and I'm short. Maybe it's because we are both mothers at 32. Maybe it's because we know what dorks we use to be in high school. Maybe it's because we both still dorks now.

I can't believe it's been almost a decade and a half since I walked across that stage. Though I may go back to my high school every year for a fund raiser I have no real contact with anyone I knew back then. Yes, there is Facebook and I am thankful for that because it lead to the phone call today. I don't talk much to my former classmates even on Facebook though. Maybe because our lives now don't really give us much to talk about that the other would really care about. Or maybe it's because we don't take the time to try and find that connection again. I think it's really because people do grow up and they do change.

I am not the quiet, shy girl I was in high school. My husband can attest to that. At least the not being quiet part. I am stronger now. I am more open now. I am more me now. And despite the 14 years between high school and today I was not nervous to talk to my old friend. In fact, from the moment I heard her voice I felt like we were sitting in class again talking about surviving the S.E.E.P. At the same time though, I felt like I had made a new friend, someone who understands me now and likes me. That I am very grateful for.

So thank you, Athena, for making me laugh for over an hour. For making me feel like a normal mom and wife. For rejoices in our chubby babies and our crazy deliveries. For reminding me I do have friends out there in the world that knew me way back when and can like me now. For making me realize that I am kind of normal after all.

It's been 14 years since high school. I am looking forward to future and the people in it.

Smile

I know it has been awhile since my last post. Part of that was I was on vacation with my wonderful little family. Part of it was being busy with my sweet little boy. Part of it was just being lazy. At least I am being honest, right?

Today though I wanted to share something I experienced the other day. I was out running errands on Tuesday with my husband and son. Just another day of things to do. Nothing major, just things that needed to be done.

I found myself in an office talking to a receptionist at one point. I was finishing up and getting ready to leave when she said something to me that just made my day.

"Have you ever heard the saying 'Your smile is contagious'? Well yours is. Your smile makes me want to smile. I just wanted to let you know that."

I don't go out of my way to be nice to strangers. I don't go out of my way to be mean to strangers. I smile when I am happy and I had been spending the say with my family so I was happy. I guess that shows in my smile. That's not the first time someone has commented on my smile either and I know it won't be the last. That's not meant to be conceited. I just know that when I smile I light up because I'm happy.

My husband loves my smile. I have members of my family who tell me I have a nice smile. There is something about having a complete stranger saying though that warms your heart.

I want the world to smile when I smile. When I'm happy I want the world to be happy too. So here is today's lesson ladies and gentleman. Smile and the world will smile with you. Smile at the strangers on the street and they will smile back. And when you see a stranger smiling at you smile back. Spread the love. Make the world a better place for yourself and for your loved ones.

I know I'm going to keep smiling so that they people around me smile and my son learns to smile too.

Simply disgusted

As a mother my heart is broken by what I have witnessed today. Casey Anthony was found not guilty of murdering her two-year-old daughter Caylee 2008. I believe it was a sad display of justice.

The world around me has erupted in disbelief and anger over this verdict. It seems to me that only the 12 jurors, the Anthony defense team and a handful of other people believe this woman to be innocent. I keep hearing the prosecution didn't do their job in proving their case but I disagree.

The woman's little girl was missing for over a month before she even mentioned it to anyone. She lied about having last seen her with a babysitter that didn't even exist. She admits the little girl drown in the pool but then she wrapped her in trash bags and duct tape and threw her in the woods like trash? Then to go about your life partying and going out while her child was still "missing?" How can anyone not believe she, at the very least, had something to do with the death of her daughter?

I am heartbroken and disgusted by this whole case. As a human being, a woman, and a mother this sickens me. This beautiful innocent little girl who wanted nothing more then to be loved had her life ended heartlessly by someone who was suppose be the one to love her. She did not ask to be born and had her mother decided she did not want that joy or responsibility then there were options open to her. She had grandparents that adored her that surely would have taken her in. If that weren't an option then there is always outside adoption. There is never a reason in the world to hurt your child.

I feel let down by the American justice system. Or maybe I feel let down by the human race. That a mother could do this to her child. That men and women could let her get away with it. That should someone decide to take this matter into their own hands and find justice for Caylee then they will end up in jail instead of the true monster.

I have no faith in mankind anymore. We have given up on each other and ourselves. I pray for Caylee. May she know the love and peace now that she missed out on in her far too short life.

Push through it

I took my son for a walk the other day. Doesn't seem like much, right? Mommies take their babies on walks all the time. This isn't the first time I took him on a walk either. The difference is this time hurt.

I know I've mentioned my broke leg/ankle before but let me add a little more. I pulverized the bone in my leg that sent fractures down into my ankle and did permanent damage to the surrounding nerves and muscles. This means for the rest of my life I will limp and for the rest of my life every step I take will be painful. Most days the pain is nothing. I've become so use to it that its almost like it doesn't hurt anymore. It does though. Every step, every time I stand up, even sometimes when I sit if I brace my foot in the wrong way. That's my life though and four years ago I had to learn to deal with the consequences of my accident.

I have a beautiful little boy now that I adore with all my heart. I can not wait for the days I can chase him around the house and play soccer with him outside. I will be that mom too because I have learned there are some things more important then pain.

Like going on a walk with your son. Some days there is more pain then others and the thought of walking from the bedroom to the living room is painful. Then you add in the swelling and you could just shoot me and put me out of my misery. Then I hear my son talking and I know he's hungry. Or he needs a diaper change. Or he just wants a hug from him Mommy. So I push through the pain because he is more important then my pain. Just like I know if I needed to, if he needed me to, I could walk ten miles barefoot, stand for twelve hours on hot coals, work for four years at a job I couldn't stand. There are more important things then pain.

So today's lesson is this. Push through it. Find that something that is more important to you. Your child, your siblings, your job, your friends, your dreams. Whatever you need it to be you find it. Then you push through your pain because there are things more important in life then your pain. Don't wallow in it, don't be defined by it. I won't be.

When I die I will not be remember as the woman with the limp who always hurt. I will be remembered as a mom who loved her son, a wife who was proud of her husband, a woman who went after her dreams. Every day I push through it because every day I know if I push through it I get stronger. If I get stronger then I am stronger for the people I love. I could sit all day and wallow in my pain. Or I could push through it and embrace my very blessed life.

What's your choice?

More then DNA

Its amazing how life works. The choices that we make compared to the choices we thought we would make. The roads we go down when we once thought the roads were permanently blocked off. What's that saying? Life is what happens when you are busy planning. Man, isn't that the truth!

It's Father's Day. This time last year I was a month and a half pregnant and had no idea what lay ahead of me. I had no idea what kind of father my husband was going to be. We both wondered as he hadn't had the best example in the world. I had faith though. We are not always the people our parents are after all.

Today we have a son who is almost six months old and I can say one thing with absolutely certainty. My husband is a good father. Or a good Papi as we call him in our house. He isn't the best but no one is. He tries to be though. He changes diapers and makes bottles. He has even begun to feed our Angel his cereal and let me tell you that is not always an easy task.

He has his moments when Angel's temper tantrums get the best of him, but so have I. And unfortunately, he doesn't have the privilege of staying home every day to learn all of Angel's little tricks that make him happy. He tries though and he listens when I try to tell him what to do.

My husband talks to our son and he makes him laugh. When he walks into a room Angel lights up and in that I see the love they share. There are moments when only Papi can make it better. As the Mommy that stays home all day and knows all the tricks that stings. As the wife and Mommy who wants her guys happy and to love each other that makes my heart swell.

Nick is not the best father and he has not had the best examples to become one. He is young and he is learning and he is doing the very best he can. He may not be the best father but for Angel he is the very best Papi and that is all that matters. It takes more the DNA to make a father. It takes time and devotion and love. My husband has given all those to our son. What more could a mom ask for.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. You have been given a miracle. Enjoy it!

Terrified

Snakes, flying, spiders, the dark, the monster under the bed. People are scared of all kinds of things. Rational and irrational. When you are scared you are scared and there is nothing wrong with that. Fear makes us human. It tells us we are alive and that we are not perfect.

Right now my son is scared of loud, unexpected noises like most five-month-olds. My husband is scared of roaches but don't tell him I told you that. When my sister was little she was sure the monster under the refrigerator was going to get her. Till I was about ten I was scared of snakes.

Today I am terrified of something real. Its not tangible and you can't hear it or taste it, but it is as scary to me as the snakes twenty years ago. Want to know what it is?

This. This blog, these words, my life that you are reading about. Telling you my story, expressing my thoughts and emotions to the world is the scariest thing to me. Knowing you are out there in the world judging me and the way I write makes me cringe.

Yet I have faced that fear. I have taken a chance and opened myself up to the world. Maybe you hate what I write. Maybe it makes you angry sometimes or you think I'm lousy at it. There is a part of me that wants to cry at the thought that someone won't like what I write because this is me. This is so personal to me it's like being naked to the world. I think I'd rather be naked.

I am taking this chance though. I am exposing my greatest love about myself to you. I would like you to embrace it. I want you to enjoy it and to praise me. I want you to think I am the greatest writer ever and everything I write is amazing.

I would be happy though if you just like it and if you don't then you can just keep that to yourself.

I am terrified of every word I write being read. That is my greatest dream for myself though. I guess to achieve one I have to face the other.

Love me, but if you don't... Well I guess it's like being afraid of the dark. I can always go back to writing just for me like you can always turn the light on in the dark. Of course, you could love me and that would be my nightlight in the dark.

Bumps in the road

Life is filled with bumps in the road. If it was all smooth sailing then it really wouldn't be much of a life. Kind of boring, in fact, and you would probably just end up sleeping through most of it.

However, the bumps aren't exactly fun to survive sometimes either. There is that heart in your stomach feeling and that jarring when you hit the ground before you start moving forward again. Definitely not fun. Especially the part where you are hitting the ground and you just want to give up.

I know that feeling far too well. And I hate it. Sometimes I just want to lay down and give up. Screw it! It isn't worth it! I'm tired! I'm done! I don't want to anymore! You name it and I have felt it. Wouldn't that be so much easier after all? When it gets hard just walk away. Find something else. Sometimes it is find someone else.

Then again maybe that wouldn't be easier. Isn't it those bumps that make us stronger, that makes our relationships better? I mean if you can survive the hard stuff doesn't that make the good stuff so much better?

I have had a lot of bumps in the road lately. Bumps about myself, bumps in my marriage, bumps about being a mom, bumps about my family in general, even bumps about following my dreams. I have had moments where I doubt I should have done any of it and maybe I am meant to fail at everything I try. That's the best or should I say worst part about the bumps. They always make you doubt yourself and the choices you've made.

All I can say is push through it. Hold on tight and keep going. If you need to cry go ahead and shed the tears. If you need to scream, take a deep breath and let it loose. If you need to walk away from it all for a while then do that too. Just make sure you don't forget the smooth sailing that got you to that bump or the smooth sailing that always comes afterwards.

It is going to get hard. You are going to want to give up. I know I do sometimes. Just hang in there. The bumps always smooth out eventually.

And sometimes they don't. Sometimes you're on a path that's nothing but bumps. Sometimes you've got to change course and that's okay too. You're the only one that knows. Just remember the bumps make you stronger and whether you change course or not you'll always smile again.

Better by me

I am far from the most unselfish person in the world. I have begun to think about myself less and less though as I became a wife and mother. There just always seems to be something more important to me then me. A house that needs to be cleaned, Angel's laundry needs to be folded, Nick's class A's need to be ironed, the dogs need a bath. When all that is done I'll sit down. When I'm finished I'll eat something. When I think about it I'll get a haircut. It's not that they maybe more important but just feel more important to me in that moment.

I don't mind though. I like helping my husband. I want my son to be happy and have everything he wants and needs. I need to spend more time with my dogs so they know I still love them even though we have another person in our family. I enjoy having a clean house that I can walk barefoot in and my baby can play on the floor. Nick's haircuts are more important then mine because they are work related. Angel is growing so fast he needs clothes more then I do. My dogs, Lieu and Charlie, are outside in the heat and dirt so they need to be brushed and bathed to feel comfortable. These things matter more to me then sitting down to rest or read my books or watch my shoes without having to hit pause 16 times and I'm okay with that.

I need to do better by me though so I can do better by the people in my life. I'm running myself ragged, my hair is frizzy from needing a haircut, I haven't bought new clothes that didn't have to do with being pregnant in over a year. I'm a mess because I'm trying so hard to keep everything else from becoming a mess.

If I'm too tired then I can't play with my son. If I have crazy hair and ragged clothes then I can't be beautiful for my husband. If I'm too busy scrubbing the walls I can't love on my dogs. Not too mention if I am too tired, ragged and busy then I can't enjoy being me.

So I am going to start being better by me. I'm going to sit down once in a while. I'm going to get a haircut... soon. Maybe I'll get my nails done this week. As for the new clothes, well I've lost 8 pounds this week so maybe I'll put shopping off for a bit till I see where that goes.

I am going to start taking better care of myself for me and for my family. Get more sleep, eat better, exercise more, and take some time for myself. If I don't put me first once in a while then there could come a day when I'm not around to put anyone else first. I'm not going to let that happen.

Missing the old days, looking forward to all the new

I'm exhausted. I think I say that at least once a week if not once a day. It has become my motto. I have a five-month-old, a husband who likes to stay up late, two dogs that have noisy dreams and pace a lot, a house to clean, and it tends to be 90 plus degrees outside all the time now. I have every reason in the world to be exhausted.

Ten years ago this would have been nothing for me. I would have stayed up all night and gone to work and still stayed up till a decent hour the following night. I had an interesting life and I wanted to experience as much of it as possible. I had just recently broken free of my shell and I suppose I was trying to fit the twenty years I had missed in as little time as possible.

Then four years ago I was in a car accident that had a huge impact on my life. I didn't nearly die, but it is a miracle that I didn't. In fact, all I got was a shattered leg/ankle and a totalled car. It wasn't so simple though. I broke the bone in my leg just above my ankle sending fractures done into my ankle. I damaged nerves and muscles that to this day do not work like they once did. This whole ordeal caused two surgeries, three titanium plates, thirteen screws, physical therapy, a month of bed rest and six months in a wheelchair. Now I still walk with a limp and I have a scar that extends from my ankle up my leg about six inches. It isn't pretty.

Healing from something like that is exhausting and it seems that ever since then I haven't gotten enough sleep. Then you add in a few more years, a job I absolutely loathed and despised, a pregnancy followed by a beautiful baby and you see. I never did catch up on my sleep.

Even as I am typing this I have yawned numerous times. I considered laying back down when my son, Angel, took his nap but there are things to do. I have to sleep the walls when my dogs sleep then give my dogs a bath. I need to wash my sheets and Angel's. I'm sure there are other things I haven't realized yet and when I think I've got it all done I have to make dinner at right about the time Angel will decide he is hungry.

I miss the days of staying up all night and never really feeling tired. Or getting one good night's sleep and feeling like I could do it all over again for a week.

I wouldn't trade these days for anything though. I may be yawning but right after I yawn I am laughing at my son who has recently discovered his toes and how much fun they are. I could use a nap but instead I would rather have my clean house. I could rest on the couch but my dogs deserve to be as clean as I am and they need some TLC.

Yes, I miss the energy I use to have, but I am looking forward to all the days I will enjoy between my yawns because they are going to be so much more important to me then any amount of sleep.

Notice me

I hate being taken for granted or ignored. It has driven me crazy my whole life. Not only is it basic common courtesy to acknowledge someone and what they have done, but if they are doing something for you the acknowledging it is the least you can do.

When I was younger and did the dishes I wanted the thank you that never came. Don't get me wrong. I know my mother provided a home and clothes and food and I am thankful for that. When I cleaned the house as a kid though I never heard a thank you. It was expected and so didn't deserve gratitude. At least that's what I thought way back then which is why I stopped doing dishes until I was about thirty. I wanted to be appreciated for that little bit of help.

As an adult that has not changed. I do a lot and I think there are people in my life who don't realize all I do. Yes, I get thank you's but sometimes it would be nice for someone to offer help.

Just like no matter the words I am speaking it would be nice to be acknowledged. Whether you like what I am saying or not. You don't have to like it and you don't have to hang around and listen to it. If you are though then tell me you hear me. I hate repeating myself.

I haven't slept in for the last five months. Though I wouldn't trade a single day as a mommy I have begun to tease my son that when he is a big boy I'm going to teach him to make his own cereal and watch cartoons. It isn't quite 9 a.m yet and I have already fed my son, cooked my own breakfast, done dishes, vacuumed the living room, gone through my emails, cleaned his toys, and put him back down for a nap. My husband has yet to get out of the bed.

People mock stay at home mothers because we don't get paychecks. Do you realize how much more difficult your day would be if we weren't?

When I hold open a door for you say thank you. When I leave my son alone with you for only the second time don't mock me because I am trying to make sure you know everything you need to. Just tell me thank you for trusting you with him. When you come home to a clean house, a hot meal, and get to sleep in once a day every weekend tell me you appreciate that because I never get to. When you bumped me in the grocery store and I'm the one to apology even though you hit me don't just walk away without a word. When we are sitting in traffic and it's 100* outside and I let you pull out in front of me raise a hand in thanks because now you'll get to get home just a little quicker to your family.

I am a human being. I deserve to be noticed and appreciated. By my family, my friends, strangers.

I spent twenty years trying to be invisible and make the world happy. Well now I'm making me happy and now you're going to notice me. I am a human being. I'll treat you like one and you'll treat me like one and maybe the world will be a better place for us all.

Getting older

Twenty years ago I was only twelve years old. My little sister was only two. My husband, though we hadn't get met, was only three. I had just recently figured out I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. I had not intentions of marrying or having kids and was unsure if I would go to college.

Oh how things have changed.

I'm thirty-two now. My little sister has become a beautiful woman at twenty-two. My husband, though I tease him about being only twelve, is now twenty-three. I have had a couple of careers, none of which included writing. I am approaching my second anniversary and have the word's cutest baby.

Somewhere along the way I grew up and I grew older. You never think you're going to get older. Sure you spend your youth counting down the days till sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one. Everything after that just seems old when you're waiting to grow up.

I don't feel old though. I feel like I'm finally getting started. Maybe I've spent the last thirty years to figure out what I wanted. Sure I weigh more, sure I have more wrinkles. Of course, I need more then four hours of sleep to function and I don't throw back beers like water anymore. Maybe all of that was killing time till I was ready to really get started with my life.

I still have some questions about where it's going. I am still wondering if I will ever see my name in print. I am still deciding if I have something more to offer the world other then being a wife and mother.

I had a decade of raising other people's children. I spent almost five years serving others and loathing every second. I have had two careers and I have just begun another much more important one.

I have less patience for the stupid people in the world. I am kinder to the less fortunate. I plan ahead now where I use to just wing it.

When I look at myself in the mirror I wonder at the woman who looks back. Does she recognize me? Is she happy with who she sees? Is this who she wanted to see when she grew up? Sometimes I look at her and I try to find the girl she use to be. Is that little girl happy with who she became?

I am getting older and while the days are passing I am noticing a couple of things. I am not the woman I thought I would be but I like this version better. I was going through the motions till it was time for my life to begin. The last thirty years have been practice and lessons learned that I can tell my son about.

I'm getting older and enjoying every moment of it.

Priorities

I know it's been a while since my last post. I wish I had time every day to impart on you all the wisdom I have learned in being me. Sadly though, there are other things going on in my life.

I have a beautiful, perfect baby boy who takes up... well 98% of my time. I wouldn't have it any other way either. He is the little love of my life, my Angel. Being his mommy I think is what I was born to do even when I didn't think I would ever be anyone's mommy.

The other 2% and even some of Angel's 98% goes towards my wonderful husband. When I'm not busy trying to soothe and love the wonders that make up my five-month-old I am trying spend as much time with my husband who makes me laugh and feel beautiful and loved more then I ever thought I could.

You see I am a stay at home mom and housewife. I spend my days cleaning and cooking and taking care of the home my husband and I have created for our son. I juggled bottles and diapers with laundry and dishes. My first priority it to my family and the home we have created and there are days when that takes up every spare moment of my time.

At this particular moment in my day I am running the dishwasher, finishing the grocery list, getting ready to do a load of laundry and fold a load, give our two dogs fresh water to survive the ninety plus degree weather, and maybe even squeeze in a couple of deep breaths. These are my days. Maybe they aren't that exciting to some people. Maybe there are women out there who think I am settling and could do more with my life. Maybe I could. Maybe some day I will.

Right now I like doing laundry and vacuuming and washing dishes. Right now I want to spend my days laughing at my son's big smiles and enjoying his new life and amazing milestones. Right now I want to spend my nights sharing the dinner I cooked with my husband, talking about his day, and curled up watching t.v. on the couch.

Those are my priorities.

Open up and be prepared

So one of the first things you have to learn about being honest with who you are is that it opens you up to pain. When you are who everyone else wants you to be it hurts but you get so caught up playing the part the pain gets shelved in that attempt to please. When you're honest with who you are though you get a different kind of pain.

Being me, it's not the easiest job in the world. The choices I make don't always sit well with others and that causes reactions that cause me pain. Sometimes the things I do make others angry for their own reasons and not because of malice on my part. Before I would do whatever it took to fix that. Can't have anyone else angry. Can't hurt anyone else's feelings. Sure it hurt me but I wasn't important. Have to make everyone else happy and satisfied and make sure they get what they want.

Today though I'm telling you this. Be you. Be proud of you and be proud of your choices. Stand up for yourself and be strong. It's going to hurt. People are going to say things and set out to cause you pain because, well, let's face it. People are selfish sometimes. What they want, what they feel, what they think. You don't always agree with other people though and that will hurt. You may doubt yourself. You may feel a little lost. You may want to give in and just make them happy and say to hell with what you want.

Don't give in. Open yourself up to who you are and embrace that person. Be prepared though to accept the pain because it will come. There is an upside to the pain though. It will make you stronger. You will see that crack in your heart, not as a weakness, but as a strength because you have survived someone's judgement and you will see that who you are is worth it.

I have my own cracks. I've wavered in the pain and thought of giving up. I even considered it recently. Making everyone else happy is so much easier for me. I remember that girl though, that shell I use to be that just pleased the world and not herself. She was empty and sad and far from alive. I could be her again if I wanted to. I don't though. So bring on the pain. You won't break me. I won't cry over you anymore.

I'm open and prepared. Are you?

There are no magic words

Do you remember being a kid and being told the magic words were Please and Thank You? I remember hearing that in school and on my kid shows all the time. Please and Thank you. I think people forgot that lesson. I also think people have decided I'm sorry and I love you fix everything.

What happen to being kind and respectful to people? Friends, family, total strangers? I walk toward a door nowadays carrying my baby in his carseat and the guy walking out will let it slam in my face. I smile at a stranger walking through the store and they look at me like I'm crazy. What happened to basic common courtesy and real effort?

Who decided we didn't have to bother anymore? Who was the one that told everyone they didn't have to be polite to a stranger? Who told people that when they screw up and hurt someone "I'm sorry" or "I love you" makes it all better, like it never happened? I would like to meet this guy so I can punch him in the nose.

I want to raise my son better. I want to raise him to hold open a door for anyone, man or woman if they are coming towards him. I want my son to smile if someone smiles at him, to say please and thank you. Most of all though, I want him to grow up knowing how to give love and respect and to know that when you make mistakes you have to work to fix them sometimes.

I wish someone had taught the whole wide world magic words. Or maybe the truth is I got lied to and their are no magic words. Being polite is just waiting to talk behind someone's back. Respect is an Aretha Franklin song and when you screw up people should just get over it by morning because trust is highly overrated.

Maybe their are no magic words but I'm going to teach my son there are because I want him to be better then me and better then all those people out there who didn't get to learn about the magic.

Some days are more ordinary then others

So today I felt I needed to impart this little bit of wisdom to the world... or at least the five or six people that might read this. Some days are more ordinary then others. Today I thought I should write something but felt like there wasn't really anything extraordinary for me to say. Then it occurred to me that was what my extraordinary subject is.

Not every day is going to feel like it is something amazing. In fact, most days will blend and bleed and fade into each other. As a mother that breaks my heart. I wonder how many amazing things I miss as those days bleed together. As a woman in my thirties the cracks in my heart have mended and faded in themselves with all the days that have come and gone and I don't recall much. As a human being, well I know that's simply human nature. When you think about all the days we live of course some will fade.

There are so many extraordinary days in our lives. There are memories I will forever hold dear no matter how much time goes by. The day my sister was born. The day I graduated high school. The day I moved to Florida. The day I met my husband. The day I got married and the day I found out I was pregnant. The day my son was born and the day I brought him home. So many extraordinary days.

Yet so many ordinary days. I can't tell you what I was doing on any given Sunday when I was eight or the two hundred and seventy-fifth day of my nineteenth year. I can't tell you what I was doing on August 9th of 2007. I can't even tell you what I was doing last Thursday.

When I look at my husband I can count an endless amount of wonderful days with him but I know there are even more that have faded in the comfort of our relationship. When I look at my son I marvel at this amazing human being I brought into the world and yet I know there are days with him I have already forgotten in the four short months of his life. I will remember the first time he smiled though. The day he laughed and the first time he held his head up. I will remember how his tiny hand wrapped around my finger the first time and the first time he scooted across the floor.

I have known days that will rival no others. Beautiful days that make me smile and laugh and feel loved to my very core. I have known every days though.

Every day I wake up and every day I go to sleep and some days nothing amazing happens. Or maybe I should say that in five years I won't remember anything amazing happening when in truth the simple fact I had all those days is amazing.

Some days are more ordinary then others but that's what makes them so extraordinary. I'll take all the ordinary days I can get.

In the looking glass

I rarely ever look in the mirror. I don't avoid it, I just don't bother with it. I don't wear make-up often and my hair is naturally curly so doesn't require much effort so I don't usually see the point. I'm not a very vain person or judgemental about myself.

In fact, I am very happy with the way I look.

Bet you never hear those words. In a society that is constantly telling people they aren't pretty enough or skinny enough or tall enough. That their hair isn't straight enough or curly enough, short enough, or long enough. That your nails aren't painted the right color or your clothes aren't in style or your teeth aren't straight enough. There is always something wrong with the way you look in the eyes of someone else. Sadly though, we often find fault ourselves in the way we look. I remember thinking I hated my curly hair and the red. Oh, for years I hated being a red-head! And short! I'm only 5'1" and have had issues with high shelves my whole life. And of course, I am overweight but then you already knew that.

I could give you a list of things wrong with the way I look. They would be someone else's opinion though. I don't look in the mirror very often but when I do I like the woman who looks back at me. I love my curly red hair and enjoy the view from down here. I have dark brown eyes that nearly disappear when I smile and a smile that beams when I see my husband and son. As for being overweight, yes I am but here is the catch. I am perfectly healthy and so all that weight is just curves that I embrace. And I know my husband enjoys them too.

I think I'm beautiful and honestly my opinion is the only one that matters. I am happy with the woman I am and I am even learning to love the parts of me that I wasn't born with. Parts like the scar running down the front of my right leg into my ankle. I am made up of many different things. Some I came with and some I have acquire over time. I could hate them if I wanted to but what good would that do? I can not change the color of my eyes. I can only put forth so much effort to straighten my curls. High heels could only give me mere inches. I could lose weight but the curves with it.

There is a woman in the looking glass and every once in a while I stop and look at her. She is getting older and it shows in the tiny wrinkles beginning to form near her eyes. She has changed in the last few years from a carefree young woman to a wife and mother. She sometimes doesn't bother to fix her hair, but merely runs a brush through it. She has changed and for the best. Gone is the girl who hide from the mirror because she was unhappy with the image that stared back.

Today I spare little more then a glance because I know the woman staring back is beautiful, but could care less. She's too busy living her life to stare into the looking glass.

I'm right. You're wrong. Any questions?

When my husband and I began dating in 2007 he got me a t-shirt. It was the very first thing he ever bought me and it had to do with a joke between us. It read "I'm right. You're wrong. Any questions?" I still have that shirt to this day and we still share that joke because I am always right... about everything. At least I like to think so.

Sometimes in life there is no right or wrong. Sometimes something is said or done and the following events get so out of control as to have nothing to do with what was said or done originally. People get angry and in turn others get angry on their behalf. Things get said and done in the confusion that sometimes no apology can make up for. Sometimes things get said and done that though may require an apology you can not offer one.

I am not always right though don't tell my husband. In this instance though I can not say I was wrong or right. Perhaps I could have used different words but what I said was not untrue. Simply rougher maybe then I had intended. From those original words though came hurt feelings and from those hurt feelings came defenders and somewhere in the middle came conclusions that were in themselves untrue. Sometimes we do things in anger that are wrong but if the anger is felt for the right reason is it still wrong?

The answer is yes.

Before I go any further know this: This is my blog. This is where I write my thoughts and my feelings and my experiences. I am sharing these things with the world because I choose to and am fully aware that anyone can read them and from them anyone can draw their own conclusions. You don't have to like what I say. You don't have to agree with what I say. Most importantly though, you don't have to read what I say. My intention is never to hurt anyone else but this is my blog.

Now to anyone choosing to read this you should know I am sorry for what happened. Though I can not take responsibility for what others have said and done I can take responsibility for myself. I said some things I should not have after jumping to a false conclusion. They were said in anger but also not directed toward one specific person. I am sorry for the anger, the disrespect, and the hurt.

I stand by my Mother's Day post because it was written to express to the world how happy and grateful I am to be a mother and nothing else. As for the one that followed, it will remain up because it was written with an honest feeling but under a false impression. Sometimes it's okay to let the world see your mistakes.

I'm not always right. I'm not always wrong. I have lots of questions.

Better than you, better than me

So normally I would move on to a new subject to blog about. However, my Mother's Day blog has caused so many problems that I am continuing a previous subject as well as adding some new thoughts.

My whole life I have kept my mouth shut about a lot of things. Normally, when there is conflict I try not to get involved or may even try to smooth it over. Remember, I use to be a shell and hide from everything and part of that was not getting into family issues. My one exception has always been my sister. You mess with her and you see a side of me few people do. Luckily, she can handle her own and I rarely have to get involved. When I came out of the shell I was better at standing up for myself but tended to just cut you out if you caused me problems. I wasn't avoiding the problem so much as getting rid of the cause. Then I got married and I found out that when you treat the person I love the most like crap it really pisses me off. I tried to be nice but it didn't take too long before I was telling certain people in his life that they were less the nothing, sad, pathetic excuses for human beings. Especially if they tried to bring my son into it. You've heard hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Well never mess with a woman's child if you want to live.

So here I am today. I am happy, healthy, in love, raising a beautiful baby, and I've made peace with my past and moved on to develop better relationships with my family. I think this makes me a good person. I don't come from a lot of money and I don't make a lot of money. I didn't go to college or serve in the military or make a career out of helping others.

I also never set out to cause anyone problems, getting into someone else's business, or hurt anyone. So this is my conclusion: I'm a good person and you people are jerks. And that's putting it nicely.

There are people I have the misfortune to be related to that have decided to create problems within my family because they think they are better then me. I don't know how they came to this conclusion. Maybe because they are older then me, because of who my father is, because they make more money or whatever reason. Here is what you need to know though.

You are not better then me. In fact, as of right now you are less then me because you set out to cause problems. You set out to hurt me, to hurt my mother, and to hurt the relationship I have built with my mother. Be proud of yourself for the pain you've caused. Then maybe take a look at your life and figure out why you are so miserable that you need to set out to hurt others.

Fact vs fiction, my opinion vs yours

So it was brought to my attention that I may have been disrespectful somehow on my Mother's Day post. That was not my attention nor do I think it's true, but that's my opinion. You are entitled to yours.

I feel I should clarify my previous statement though about mothers in my life. I never said any of them were bad, simply not very good. There is a difference. I could list the things in my life I felt were not done to the best of others abilities but what's the point? I know my mother and the other mothers in my family that saw me a few days a year did what they did to make me the woman I am today.

Bad mothers are a class of their own. Neglect and abuse are just general terms for the many things a bad mother is capable of. Mind never left me stranded alone or burned me with cigarettes.

However I don't remember mothers in my life doing some of the things that you hear "good" mothers doing. I don't remember being read to as a child. I don't remember lots of hugs or kisses or being told how pretty I was or how smart. That doesn't mean my mother was bad. Just not very good. I was her first child to give her some credit and she was very young when she had me. Not to mention, I was unplanned.

There are things in my past, my childhood that some are not privileged to know. My mother and I have been through things, some very ugly things that have shaped my opinion of the way I was raised and what a mother could/should be. You may think you know how I grew up but there are things I've never shared with anyone and you can be sure my mother hasn't shared them either. I am not saying I was the best child or she the worst mother. I am saying our relationship was not what it could have been when I was younger.

My mother, without malice or judgement and with all the respect due, was not a very good mother... in the beginning. Now though, as I have become an adult our relationship has changed. She is the best mom I could have in my life right now. We have respect for either other and care for each other in a completely new way. Best of all though, she adores my son, her grandson and it is in that relationship that I see what could have been with us and what will be.

I can't go back and change the way I grew up. Nor do I want to. And I will not take back my words in any previous blog. There was no disrespect, implied or otherwise. I am sorry for those that thought there was but until you know every detail of my life and my relationship with my mother you don't have all the facts. You only get pictures and not the entire story.

I HAVE a great mom and she is a great grandmother to my beautiful baby boy. Those are my facts and my opinion. You are completely entitled to your fiction and your opinion though.

A first for everything

Do you know the saying "there is a first time for everything?" Normally you hear it when experiencing something unusual. Now ask yourself what the definition of unusual is.

There is a first time for everything and today is my first Mother's Day. This to me is unusual because I never planned to be a mother. Not that I didn't want to because I've always wanted to be a mom. I just never thought it was in the cards for me. I often doubted I would even be a good mom.

There is no judgement or condemnation in these next words. Simply fact. I have never had very good role models for mothering. It is what it is. But with this fact came the doubt that I could do something I never really seen done well by others. So I planned on not having children. I thought that was for the best and since I was also a pretty firm believer I would never marry I didn't doubt this outcome.

Today though I woke up to the smiling brown eyes of my four-month-old son, Angel. He wakes up every morning laughing and that in turn makes me smile. He has his father's mouth and my cheeks. His father's eyes and my hair. He is a perfect combination of his parents and without a doubt the most beautiful baby in the world. Maybe I am biased but I don't think so.

He is my dream come true. I am thankful for every single moment he is in my life and I wouldn't trade one of them for anything in the world. He is my miracle and not just because I never thought I would be his mom, but because I almost lost the chance to be.

I had a perfect healthy pregnancy. Not one single problem along the way. I even did well with the weight gain. I was great. Then I went into labor four weeks early. I didn't worry though. He was a strong, healthy baby and 36 weeks was far enough along that he would be just fine. Labor went well for the first half. Then is stopped. With a little help things started to move along again. Then the hard part started. Every mommy who has ever given birth the old fashioned way knows what I mean. The pushing!

Pushing is hard but it is a piece of cake compared to hearing the doctor say your precious baby has the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and they need to cut it NOW! A moment later my son was out and he was in the world. I expected the screams you hear in movies and yet all I got was silence. Then a small cry. Then another. Yet I still had not seen my miracle. And I wouldn't see him for more then a moment and a kiss before they took him away.

Without drawing out a more painful memory I will tell you that my sweet boy had complications. He was white and not just because his mom is Irish. He was a sheet and his tiny body was having trouble pumping blood and regulating itself. Within what felt like mere minutes my baby was taken to a hospital an hour away and would not be in my arms until the next day.

There were a lot of tears and a lot of fear. There was hope though. My baby was strong and he was mine. Four days later I brought my miracle baby home where he belonged. The fear was pointless. He was perfectly healthy and he is always going to be.

So is there a first for everything? Yes because this is the first time I have ever been a mom. This is the first time I have ever known so much fear, so much pain and yet so much joy and love and hope. My Angel is my everything. Being his mom is the greatest gift I could have ever imagine and yet never imagined it could be this wonderful. Every moment is special. He makes me laugh and my heart swells with pride with every new thing he does. I can't wait to wake up to his smile and I love kissing him goodnight. I love the way he laughs when I change his diaper and how serious he gets when he is playing with his toys. He is a miracle to me in so many ways and I never thought my heart could swell with so much love for someone so small.

This is my first Mother's Day and I have never been more grateful for a first in all my life.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there. All our babies are real miracles.

Whether you like it or not

The first thing you have to know about being who you are really meant to be is that sometimes other people aren't going to like you. That's life. Not everyone has to like everyone else and sometimes the people that do like you don't have to like you all the time. You should learn to deal with this early on. It makes things easier.

I figured it out about twelve years ago. I turned it into an art form about ten years ago when I moved to Florida. I broke out of this shell I had been living in all of my life and found a wild child inside. I colored my hair blue or green or purple. I went out drinking till all hours of the night. I made "friends" with people I would prefer my child never know I once knew. Looking back on it though I know it was a phase in my quest to find myself and yet at the same time that phase lead me to find a big part of myself.

You know what happens when you walk around with blue streaks in your red hair? People stare... a lot! And they judge and they whisper and in the long run a lot of them don't like you. When that happens you have to make a choice. Do you go back to who is more acceptable so they approve or do you learn to accept that not everyone is going to like you 100% of the time. Me? I learned to thrive when people stared at me. Yup, I am different and proud of it. Would you like to take a picture so you never forget me?

I don't dye my hair blue or green or purple anymore. Sometimes I miss that about myself, that wild child. Most of the time though, I know that child grew up into a strong woman. I've learned something though along the way.

You don't have to like me. If you don't like me that's your loss. If you like me but don't like me sometimes, well I can live with that. Sometimes I say things you don't like. Sometimes I do things you don't like. Sometimes life sucks. Pick yourself up by your shoelaces and move on. Sometimes you don't like me and sometimes I don't like you.

That's life... whether you like it or not.

A different dream then the one you dreamt

Do you remember when you were a kid and you wanted to be (insert career)? Then three weeks later you wanted to be something else. I remember wanting to be a ballerina and a fashion designer before I was seven. The me now laughs at both dreams because neither could be farther from reality. I have neither the grace or figure for dancing and neither the style or the care for fashion. Its just further proof how we change as we grow.

When I was a teenager I had one dream though that I have continued to hold on to into adulthood. Some people in my life know what it is and others do not. Do I tell you so that those who don't know finally know my secret? Is it really still a secret after all these years? Probably not so why not share with the world, right?

I want to write. And not just for the sheer joy of creating a story, though I do love that part. I want to be published and have people read my words, come into the worlds I've created. I want someone to read something I have written and have it touch them in a way I have been touched by all the books I have read. With this dream comes the fear of judgement though and so I have hesitated in pursuing this dream.

Not just hesitated though because though I have held on to this dream I have discovered other dreams that have halted it's progress. These dreams though I never dreamt for myself.


Twenty years ago I was twelve and wanted to get married and have kids like most girls. Unlike most girls though I didn't believe I would marry and have kids. Family issues and whatnot, for whatever reason I did not see myself as a wife and mother. Sure it broke my heart a little but when you tell yourself something at a young enough age you start to believe it before it can cause too much pain.

Ten years ago I still believe that was not my path.


Five years ago I still believe that was the way my life would work.


Four years ago I met a boy and yet still believed I was not that happy homemaker type.


Three years ago I was engaged, a year and a half ago I got married, and four months ago I gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy.


Three days ago I started to write thinking maybe it was time to pursue the dream I had shelved so long ago.


So this is the dream I never dreamt and yet this is my dream come true. I can't imagine being happier. I can't imagine being anywhere else. I can't imagine being anyone else. I didn't see my life taking this path and yet every morning I wake up beside the most wonderful man and every night I lay in his crib the most beautiful boy.

So maybe if life isn't the way you thought it would be you should take a look at a different set of dreams... Then maybe write about them.

Sometimes the truth hurts

Sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes it hurts you and sometimes it hurts me. And sometimes it hurts everyone involved and sadly there is nothing we can do to change that. When you are learning to be who you are really meant to be there is a lot of pain involved. I have hurt people and disappointed them and maybe burned a bridge or two in my past. Honestly, though I have been hurt, disappointed and had people burn my bridges as well and I hold grudges. I know I shouldn't. I know it isn't healthy. I know others have forgiven me my mistakes while I still hold on to the ones they made againt me. I know it is wrong and yet I think it somehow makes me stronger to rememeber how others have wronged me. I also thinks it makes me bitter and I hope not to pass that along to my family.

Twenty years ago I was perfect. Or at least I did everything I could to be what others thought was perfect. The perfect student, daughter, friend, sister, insert title. I did what everyone wanted me to do and was absolutely terrified of anyone who did what they wanted to do.

Ten years ago I was who I wanted to be (at least I thought so), but was disappointing everyone in my life. I was searching for my place in the world and making as many mistakes as possible along the way.

And now I know this is who I am meant to be. No one is disappointed. No one is getting hurt. My mistakes are the good ones. And best of all, this me is one I never thought I was meant to be.

So sometimes the truth hurts, but in the long run the pain makes us stronger and it makes us realize that the truth is a whole lot easier to handle then the lies when you know who you really are.

Starting over

I think everyone starts over more then once. We are never who we think we want to be and never who we intended to be on the first try. We lose someone important to us and we think it is a wake up call to find out who we really want to be. We lose a job and realize that maybe this was suppose to happen so we could follow our dreams. We graduate college and find out it is time to make something of all that time spent learning. Whatever the reason, we start over a great many times in our single lifetime. We create new lives, different lives and some of them are the ones we are meant to live. Sometimes others are just trial runs till we get to start over.

And then sometimes there are those rare occasions when we have started over without even realizing it and have become the people we were always meant to be without knowing it was who we wanted to be. I've started over more times then I can count and even once was almost certain I was becoming exactly who I had always wanted to be and was meant to be. I've also had a few failed attempts at being who I thought I should have been just because it was who others wanted me to be. Hence the failed part of the attempt.

So here I am... being me... again... and again. This time I think I am getting it right. And the best part of getting it right this time is even if I'm not I have never been happier. But I will tell you about that next time.