Category: Stuff I Was Too Lazy To Organize

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.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

May 16

Scared

brave

I heard this quote listening to Jen Hatmaker‘s Willow Creek podcast from Mother’s Day, and I immediately thought of how scared I am as a parent. I think I’ve gotten better, I really do, but I have a long way to go.

This was never more apparent to me than

this past summer when my friend Jessica invited Jason and I out on the boat. I watched as her daughter, a year younger than Grumpy Toddler, was fearless with the water. FEARLESS, y’all, in the best way possible. She was FUN fearless. Jumped in, swam, played in the waves. In contrast, Charlotte clung to us in our laps, and I realized that she was the result of a mom who tried desperately to remove anything that could possibly cause her harm or sadness or discomfort. I had bubbled her right into boring.

When I think back to my life, and the moments that grew me, they really were just not all that fun. They were times I would have skipped if given the chance – if God had given me the foresight into the future. The babies I lost, the marriage that failed, the friendships that I walked away from, those horrible decisions I made. Like it or not, though, the bad grows us. And as I scrambled to block impending discomfort from my kids, I robbed them of their ability to be strong, determined women. Strong mothers. Dependable employees. I took away some of the experiences that would have forced them to learn to problem solve. In short, I decided to get their education FOR them so they wouldn’t have to – as if somehow that was a good thing.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

May 08

Fifth Grade Graduation

Lord, y’all, this is going to be a doozy for me. The Oldest One brought home a formal invitation for her 5th grade graduation. In very fancy writing, it says:

With great happiness, we,
the Fifth Grade Class of (I ain’t dumb enough to list her school y’all),
invite you to join us on
Graduation Day
Friday, the twenty-second of May,
two thousand and fifteen
at nine o’clock in the morning. 

Appropriate attire is encouraged.*

*For those of you that aren’t in the South, that means leave your wife beaters and camo at home.

Let’s talk about these snowflakes, ok? I love my child. She is brilliant (typical straight A’s) and I am proud of her for pulling her C up after I asked her if she liked fifth grade so much she wanted to do it all over again. I think she is sweet as pie and the cats pajamas and all those things. I love being her mother.

But folks, graduating fifth grade is REQUIRED BY LAW. Why are we acting as though passing a grade is something worthy of pomp and circumstance? It is not. I appreciate you brushing your teeth every day, but I am not holding a ceremony over that either. If she does not go on from fifth grade, they will jail me. School is compulsory. SO IS MY WORK, AND I’M NOT USING VACATION TIME FOR THIS.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

May 04

Grumpy Prince Gets a Playmate – And More

I can only assume that Princess Kate has been reading my blog, so thank you so much for honoring my own Grumpy Toddler (real name Charlotte Elizabeth) with the Royal Baby. Prince George, I urge you to read up on Infant Sibling Disease from The Honest Toddler. He is wise.

I was on the #GreatKateWait for like…forever now, hoping to hear any name other than Charlotte, to no avail. I hope that Princess Charlotte Elizabeth Diana proves to you naysayers that hated the name Charlotte when I used it a whopping four years ago and thought it was old and outdated know that it is CLEARLY royalty-worthy and that I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG.

I also know, based on the text messages I’ve gotten, that a million of you zoomed over to see what I had to say about Princess Beautiful stealing my precious baby name – only to find nothing.

Womp Womp Womp

So, now, for the serious part. This is raw and difficult to write.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Aug 23

The 540s

In my Eucharisteo book,

546). Lazy Saturdays
547). Sounds of raindrops
548). Impromptu photo sessions
549). The way she looks at her
550). The sound of their laughs

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551). That smile

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552). Shadow puppets

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553). Pretending to be scared

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554). The way you can see that serious face through her hair

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555). Crazy, humid curls

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 556). The way The Oldest One’s whole body seems to smile.

 

Living the dream? Most certainly. Can it even get better?

Apr 15

One Year – Part 1

(Written April 3, 2014)

In the late hours of April 4, 2013, the fate of the next 12 months had been sealed.

That evening kicked off the beginning of the end for me of that season in my life, and over the next 9 days, I would unravel in a complete transformation of my life, which included quitting the job that I had once loved dearly. I didn’t know then that I would come out on the other side, remarkably and permanently changed. It would take almost a year to fully realize how much pain I had been carrying around during that time. After reflecting over the last year, I’ve seen the stages I went through at different times.

There was the Adrenaline Stage – where I was forced into a fight or flight mode and ran on auto-pilot, protecting myself and my family. Then the Disbelief Stage – where I sat and wondered what on Earth I did with my life. I never, not a single time, not for a split second, regretted quitting my job. But I’d worked since I was 12, and people, I am HIGH maintenance. I had no idea how we were going to be ok on one income. I knew we would be fine; I knew we would eat…I just didn’t know how we were going to handle it mentally. I also had no idea what I was going to do – if I was going to immediately look for work, or take time off.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!