Author's posts
Mar 06
Andy’s Fight
She wasn’t there the day my oldest daughter was born. In fact, I didn’t know she existed. And when I held that sweet baby in my arms, I prayed for the future. I can’t remember my prayer, because I didn’t know Jesus then, but I know that I didn’t pray for her.
I met her at a McDonald’s one cold day after work, four years later. She was so nice, and she was different than I had pictured her. She was calm, and her words were deliberate. She was an open book to a nervous mom, and I left that meeting with a peace I hadn’t had in a long time. I liked her from that first day, but I had no idea the role she would play in my life.
Over the next few years, I would realize how impossibly different we were. She is calm and rational, organized and deliberate, quiet but fierce. In fact, we may have only one thing in common – an incredible love for that blonde haired, blue eyed girl. While mine may be biological, I cannot recall a single time where I doubted that the love she felt for that child was less than the love I felt.
My shortfalls, be but many, stop where she begins. She fills in all the spots where I fall short; her strengths are my weaknesses. And at some point, God gave me the ability to see what a powerful and beautiful team that we are to the daughter we now share. How much He must love me that He gave me someone to share that with. How gracious He is to not only forgive me, but to bless both me and this child with a strong woman to love her as I do.
So, while I didn’t see her that day in the hospital, God knew that she would be there soon. I’m glad His plans don’t depend on my agreement or my willingness. As much as I love her now, I’m not sure the scared 23-year-old me that had just had my first child would have wanted to hear that one day I would share her with another woman. And now I cannot imagine doing it any other way. The word ‘stepmother’ is so insufficient for what she is to my daughter…our daughter.
Tomorrow, she will undergo a major surgery to fight breast cancer, and we have zero doubts that it is no match for the ferocious fighter we know she is. So, while we know that she will be absolutely fine, tomorrow begins a new step on a long and difficult road. For that, I ask for your prayers. Her sister has set up a GoFundMe account for their medical bills, and if you feel lead to do so, please know that it is more appreciated than you know. In the meantime, we pray Exodus 14:14, because God is good and faithful.
Feb 28
1,000 Days
Anyone that is friends with me on Facebook undoubtedly saw the outpouring of celebration yesterday by my friends, who congratulated me and showered me with gifts and love in celebration of my 1000 days of sobriety.
For those of you that don’t know my story, or weren’t aware of that portion of my story, I wanted to give a narrative that maybe answers some questions you have. So what does that mean? What did life look like 1005 days ago? Do you go to meetings? Do you get a chip?
The answer is no, because I have never gone to meetings. I do have a group of friends that I lean on when I know that the circumstances in front of me start looking like they used to when I did what I always did – find my way back to self-destruction, through which ever path I could get to faster. Sobriety didn’t begin with rehab and meetings, and pre-sobriety did not look like the picture many people have in their head when they think of sobriety or recovery.
So what did pre-sobriety look like? It looked kind of normal. I wasn’t hiding vodka bottles in the closet. I wasn’t out every weekend partying. In fact, I wasn’t even a frequent drinker, but when I was, I was a heavy drinker. I had zero concept of social drinking; I was 0 or 100, with no in between. And actually, I didn’t drink for periods of time, and abstaining was not a struggle for me. When I did drink, I more than made up for all the nights I did not. I do not get funnier or quieter after alcohol; I got louder, and I got more aggressive and out of control when I drank. And with less inhibitions, I made horrific choices. I don’t love the taste of alcohol, but I craved the escape it brought me.
On June 2, 2013, I got violently drunk in a hotel room on a business trip I went on with Jason, and things became so badly out of control that it’s really only by some sort of miracle (or maybe just him not wanting his colleagues to know) that I didn’t end up in jail. I woke up on June 3 sick and mortified, and devastatingly remorseful at the things I had said and done to my husband. And I decided that morning that I was tired of apologizing for hurting the people I loved. I was tired of being out of control, and that day marks the day that I committed to stop adding fuel to the fire.
Addicts of various kinds that are in stages of recovery (as well as family of recovering addicts) will tell you that there is a big difference between not using and being sober. Prior to that day in June, I had many days that I did not find whatever substance I could get my hands on to escape, but I did not have sobriety.
Sobriety looks different for most people. For me, it looks like suffering through the six kidney infections I had this year without any pain relief, because I had to decline the prescriptions. It looks like not drinking at all, because abstaining completely is better for me than trying to manage it. Once, I was on a trip for work, and I smelled the scotch someone was drinking. And despite the fact that I have never liked scotch, the way my mouth watered scared me, and I realized at that moment that “drinking casually” was likely never going to be an option for me.
I have zero judgments about people who drink. My husband has a beer once in a while. My friends have wine when we go places. They have something I don’t – the ability to self-regulate.
It’s been a long time, much longer than 1,000 days, since I was clearly out of control. My family can attest to the time they had to come and get me from college and bring me home because of my months-long bender. My husband can attest to the time I lost my job because of all the pain meds I was on. Or the business trip that I was so out of it during that my coworkers were actually scared for my health. Or the seizure I had because of a medication interaction. Or the time I invited my parents to dinner and nodded off the whole time in the restaurant. Those days were much longer ago than 1,000 days.
However, as for the amount of time since I made the conscious decision to be a better mom, wife, friend, and family member? That has been 1,000 days. It has been 1,000 days since I decided to stop being my own worst enemy. Most of those days have come easily, but some have not. It meant learning new coping mechanisms for when I am stressed. Or bored. Or happy.
Sobriety is difficult at times, but it is not complicated. It only requires saying no. Sometimes that “no” comes easier than others…but it always comes.
So that is the story of what prompted the decision I made one thousand days ago. If you have questions, feel free to contact me. I am happy to answer them.
Feb 01
Charlotte is 5
I love this sweet baby. From the moment she was born, she took the internet by storm. Her sweet, yet skeptical spirit has made her a force to be reckoned with. Today, she is 5 years old. Somewhere, in all my wondering if these kids were ever going to start growing up quickly, they started doing just that. I’ve included some of my very favorite pictures of her; ones that capture her spirit and her love. Charlotte is a one and only; frustratingly stubborn, impossibly empathetic, and charming and witty. It may take a while for her to warm up to you, but once she has you, her love is fierce and unwavering.
I cannot even tell you how grateful we are that she grew into that nose.
Dec 30
The Baby
So this year was more emotional for me during Christmastime after I heard Andy Stanley say on a podcast that one of the reasons we know Jesus was real is because no man would create a story about God coming to Earth in the flesh as a baby. I’d heard that a few times, but it sunk in with significance this year, and I let myself feel the weight of it.
A baby. A helpless, vulnerable baby. Born in a manger, no less. Born as the least of these, to the least of these.
That story truly is no man’s creation. We know that by the movies we watch and the visual we get when we think of a King. More Goliath sized than David, for sure. Our Savior, the one we create, isn’t born to scared yet faithful parents, but instead comes in a fury. He appears to us from a storm, and he comes with a vengeance with no mercy. He is strong and powerful. He isn’t born in the dirt.
And more than that, the Savior that mankind creates surely doesn’t ride a donkey and hang out with lepers. He doesn’t stoop down in the dirt with an adulterer and draw in the sand. He doesn’t wash feet. He doesn’t bypass faithful leaders to go to the sick and the poor.
You see, we know that the Savior we got wasn’t the Savior we would have chosen if with no other proof than the way we act ourselves. We want recognition for the good deeds we do. We want to know that the better we are, the more we know, the more favor we will have from God. We need to know that if we follow the rules of the Old Testament, we are safe. We want a Savior who will smite those who sin against us. Jesus gives us none of that.
Jesus himself was the antithesis of the Savior we would have created. We would have created a king with clear and easy rules. Pray for those who persecute you? No thanks. Love without keeping score of wrongs, no matter the circumstances? I’ll pass. God in the flesh, if created by man, would not have died on a cross meant for thieves and common criminals. Man would not have created a servant Savior that instructed them to follow Him – especially if following Him meant doing things that man would fail daily trying to do.
He was the exact opposite of what mankind would have created, yet precisely what we needed. Jesus is no fairy tale, because fairy tales aren’t made from characters such as He.
The weight of this understanding transformed Christmas for me. I hope you had a beautiful, wonderful Christmas that was full of the magic and wonder that this season truly signifies.
Dec 29
Welcome
So I take the last part of the year off, and when I put in my vacation request, I think about all the things I’ll do in that time. I’ll sleep late. I’ll have long lunches with my friends and relaxing coffee dates. I’ll watch Fixer Upper marathons and snuggle up on the couch and drink cappuccino. I’ll lay under a heavy blanket and read until my eyes cross. That sounds lovely, doesn’t it?
Inevitably the only thing I get to do is clean and organize and purge. There is no relaxing. There is only sun up to sun down doing stuff. I have done so much crap that every muscle in my body hurts. I sat down only to write this post. And y’all, I have a super emotional post inside me that’s been wanting to get out for a while now, and I just don’t have it in me to bang it out onto this keyboard.
Instead, you get this unemotional front door. I’ve blogged about this door before, here. It looks nice in that after picture, but this is essentially what it’s looked like since then.
Y’all that door is so sad, isn’t it? When we went to Knoxville for Thanksgiving, we stopped at At Home (y’all, praise the Lord that that store is so far away or we would be so broke all the time). I was looking for a B, and they only had it in this teal design. I remembered that our door is like Tiffany Blue I would consider it to be, so I grabbed it.
Also, when I was perusing Etsy for a decal for Grumpy Toddler’s room, I found a decal for the front door and I totally fell in love with it. I ordered it from VinylEdgeDesign (I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, no one gives a crap about me referring anything, so I don’t get paid or kickbacks or discounts for it. I include where I bought stuff if it’s a great quality and is hassle free so you can experience that as well). I ordered it in Metallic Copper. I finally put it on yesterday, and viola.
Y’all, I do not want to even talk about how that “storm door” is STILL ON THIS HOUSE and the new beautiful one is STILL OUT IN THE SHED WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO LOVE ME ENOUGH TO PUT IT ON THE HOUSE. Or how badly our house needs to be power washed. My gosh. So much work to be done here. Here’s a close-up of the decal so you can tell how pretty it is. I am really impressed with how it came out:
Anyway, can y’all just throw me a bone? I know I haven’t posted forever but I am trying I swear.
The Lackadaisical Mom
