Last week while I was grocery shopping, I passed an old friend in the aisle. There is no way she could have missed me, but she ignored me completely. CJ and I talked it over and there are a few things we feel could have happened.

The first, and least likely in my opinion, is that she really just didn’t see me. The second, and my feeling, is that she is still not over the unfortunate events that took place between her and my brother-in-law. Their failed attempt at a relationship had nothing to do with me, but as my brother-in-law left me to do the “breaking up” as it were, my relationship with her suffered. The third, and CJ’s idea, is that even though I have tried to keep her in my life – inviting her to girls’ nights, birthday parties, etc. – it was just too hard for her to watch me get married and start a family.

I remember her mother made a comment one evening while we were hanging out; shortly before CJ and I got married. She told her daughter to enjoy the last few opportunities to hang out since we wouldn’t be friends anymore after my marriage. So a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts? But not for lack of trying on my part.

I have one best friend, besides CJ of course, who lives in Missouri. I have one sister who prefers her friends who party (and I do mean PARTY), since I don’t. So a situation like this is actually heartbreaking. I know losing a friend is always sad, but when you don’t have many to begin with…

Later in August, I have a meeting set up with a girl from high school. We haven’t really hung out since then, but we did invite each other to our weddings. Why did we set up a meeting now? She just had her first child. He’s a few weeks older than EM. I’m assuming she wants some “mommy friends” for advice, play dates, etc. I’m looking forward to this meeting because I’ve always wanted a “mommy friend” who lives relatively closer than my girlfriend in Missouri. I’ve learned to not get my hopes up though. So we’ll see. Even if it doesn’t go well, at least I know she isn’t immature enough to ignore me if she saw me at the grocery store.

“Bitch Wrist”


Last Thursday, for #tbt, my cousin posted this picture. Why am I stealing it this week? Because it lead to the creation of an amazing phrase. Thanks CJ!

When my cousin originally posted this photo, she had tagged herself (the one with the crazy hair) and my sister. I also recognized the hand as my sister and thought it hilarious my cousin could tell who it was just by the bronzed arm holding her face. I commented to that point and everyone in my family got a good laugh over how we all recognized my sister. Maybe it was because we have all know her for so long, or maybe because she is the only one of us who ever gets so tan.

Anyway, since I found this whole situation to be funny, I brought it up to CJ. Then he admitted to me that he too had known the hand belonged to my sister before realizing she had been tagged in the photo. When I questioned how he recognized her, he told me it was because my sister had “bitch wrist.”

I could not help myself. I immediately got my sister on the phone to inform her about her bitch wrist. She was laughing when she asked CJ to explain what he meant. His explanation – “Well, you know. A wrist with attitude.”

My sister and I both laughed hysterically about the fact that she apparently exudes so much attitude it can even be noticed in pictures of her wrist. She had better be keeping that “bitch wrist” in control.

This has been a difficult week for me. Last weekend, we found out that my in-laws won’t be coming to the birthday party we have planned for MJ and Q. I have been trying very hard to understand their reasoning. They want to come the following weekend so they can bring my sister-in-law’s kids as well. Goodness knows the kids only see each other when we travel there (multiple times per year versus my sister-in-law’s one visit in eight years).

Although I am trying to be understanding, they knew about this party for over one month and could have made plans to be here on the correct weekend. And why is that particular weekend so important? Not only are we celebrating MJ and Q that weekend, it is CJ’s birthday as well. He will be turning 30. How could his parents not want to be here to share that with him? He is their baby.

CJ has told me many times that this isn’t that big of a deal, but I wonder who he is trying to convince more, me or himself. My heart hurts to think that they could do this to their baby. He is the single most wonderful person I have ever met and I just don’t understand how anyone could not want to show him how important he is and celebrate the fact that he’s alive.

I love you, CJ. And at least the kids and I will be here for your birthday. We’re the best part of your family anyway. 🙂

YCN #7

When my sister and I were younger, my parents took us on some long road trips. We drove to Walt Disney World. We drove to the Grand Canyon. You get the idea. My sister and I had some epic fights over the cooler that separated us in the back seat, but we also took some awesome pictures.

One summer, my mother decided we were going to drive to Roswell, New Mexico. We had been watching “Roswell” ever since it premiered on television and thought it would be cool to check out where it was all taking place.

There were museums about UFOs and space and we even got to eat at the Crash Down Cafe which is one of the locations where the show takes place. As we were walking back to the car, we came upon a little out-of-the-way place that looked intriguing and had only a $2.00 entry fee. We went in and it was amazing. The proprietor had scenes set up were you could take photos with “aliens.”

At the time, we were really excited. We took lots of silly pictures and thought that they were great when we got them back. Now that I am an adult, I look back on these photos and I am really embarrassed. I cannot believe I at any point thought what I was doing was cool. In one picture in particular, I look a little drunk and I really wish that I had been, because at least that would explain why I allowed my picture to be taken in such a way. Thanks, Mom and Dad. You had to realize we were not cool.

These awkward photos will forever be proof that I was a “weirdo” and there is no denying it. At least my sister was equally guilty.

YCN #2

Here is my second article for the YCN. It was supposed to be on when you (the author) decided it was the right time to start a family and if you thought it was advice to share with others.

My husband and I were engaged for three years before we got married. Why did we wait? We wanted to finish school. We were married for two years before we bought a home. Why did we wait? We wanted to be established in our careers.

As we neared thirty, we began to consider starting a family. There were always reasons to wait: someone changed their job, someone’s car broke down, etc. How much time did we want with just us?

I was talking at family function with one of my aunts and she informed me that there is never a perfect time to start a family. There will never be enough money. There will never be enough time. You will never be at the right point in your relationship.

My husband and I sat down and really considered this. She was right, no doubt about it. We decided to go ahead and do it. We only tried for two months before we found out we were pregnant and it was an amazing feeling. Nine months later, our beautiful little boy was born.

Times are hard, things get rough, and I never have enough hands, but I would not trade my little guy for anything. In fact, every time I look into his big, blue eyes, I cannot wait to make him a big brother.

I briefly considered if we make enough money. Do I have enough time to devote to two children instead of just one? My husband and I get along, for the most part. But wait. Here come the words from my favorite aunt:

“There is never a perfect time. If you want children, have them when you want them, not when you think you can afford them. You can always find a way to make it work.”

I am so glad we decided to listen to her and I freely give that advice to others. If you are seeking the perfect time to have your first, you will never find it and time you could be rearing your child will slip away. If you want a child, while you want them, now, is the perfect time.

Today Was Difficult…

I no longer have a place at the kids’ table; my son now occupies that space. I am a mother, homeowner, have my BS, but am still not qualified to sit at the adult table. Why is it then, that while I am only qualified to be in this awkward limbo, I am forced to suffer a strange and uncomfortable sharing of information?

I do not need intimate details of aunt and uncle infidelity and divorce. I do not wish to hear unemployment histories and financial difficulties. I am not “old enough” to join them, yet they seek me out. I know it is not for my wisdom – I have not lived as long as they have or seen as much. I know it is only for my sympathy. Unfortunately, there are many times when I do not wish to give it.

I know more things about certain people than I think I should know. How can I be expected to be a good member of the younger generation when I have these secrets I need to keep? If I cannot be at the adult table, then please, LEAVE ME OUT. Let me stay in limbo; playing with the kids and keeping my rose colored glasses as far as pasts and presents of the adults are concerned.

I am so tired of not telling one person this, another person that, etc. More nights than not, I cry. Most of those nights, it is not for myself or my own problems, but something I have been told and cannot discuss to get off my chest. I cannot fix everything, yet I feel this overwhelming compulsion to do so and it is debilitating to feel this way and know that there is nothing I can do.

No more secrets. No more confessions. I am done.

Party Time!

It has been beyond crazy lately trying to get a house we have been living in for less than three months ready enough to entertain a large number of family members. Why do I need to have them over? My baby is turning one!

It is hard to believe that my baby boy is already one. He walks, he talks; where did the time go?

My family is great, but sometimes they can be a little judgemental. My mother will comment on how the kitchen is not painted yet. My grandma, who has a keen eye for dust, will let me know if I missed a spot. One of my aunts makes the cakes for everyone’s birthday parties, but I told her I wanted to do this one myself and I am sure she will let me know if it is not up to standards.

I know MJ will have lots of fun tomorrow, but I sure will not. Who ever really has fun hosting the party; making sure drinks are full, there are enough snacks out…

Somehow I managed to pull together the time to write a little more for the Yahoo Contributor Network so if anyone is interested in reading one of the two articles, here they are: “Words of Wisdom” and “My Son Creates his own Photo Ops.”

Hopefully after tomorrow afternoon, I will still be sane enough to post a few pictures of the birthday boy and of the main rooms of the house that have finally been finished. I am so proud of what CJ and I have been able to do on our own. CJ even built me my dining room table! I think it is beyond gorgeous and I never knew he was so handy. 🙂

Bed early tonight beccause I have a dragon cake to finish in the morning. Rawr! 😀


I realized that I talked about MJ a lot in my last post. As other parents know, it is hard not to talk about your little one. MJ was born in March of this year. He is my first baby and a beautiful little boy.

My pregnancy was an easy one until I got toward the end of it. My job at the time was a high stress one besides being one that mostly kept me on my feet. As the first person to greet people who come into a hospital, you have to be ready for all types of emergency situations and also be prepared to deal with the family/friends that come with them. I was taken out of work about four weeks before my delivery for my gestational hypertension and put on bed rest.

Since my numbers would not regulate, my doctor decided that I needed to be induced. Needless to say, I was petrified about being induced because all my girlfriends decided it would be a good idea to tell me horror stories about it. MJ, being the good little boy he is, had other plans. An hour before I was supposed to go in for my induction, my water broke.

I spent my time, for as long as I was able, walking the hallway of the small OB department. My husband, CJ, walked laps with me and rubbed my back during all my contractions. He stayed with me the entire time.

I will forever appreciate the nurses who cared for me during my labor. A few months after my son’s birth, the OB department was closed and the nurses had to find new employment. The women were 100% supportive of my decision to not have an epideral and were very helpful in providing alternative ways to have a healthy labor. I know that the risk of complications from an epidural are very small, but I know women who ended up with spinal headaches and such from them. The nurses were there for constant encouragement. I hope they were able to find other situations where they could be happy.

At 10:58am, MJ was born and our lives forever changed.

just a few weeks old

just a few weeks old

He is a handsome, smart little man who just turned nine months old. He furniture walks like a pro and can run away from his daddy pretty quickly when threatened with having to put on his pants 🙂

His two-toothed grin can make anyone smile and he makes me proud to be his mama. I cannot wait to make him a big brother.

This morning I went to my first wrestling tournament. Still not sure how I felt about it.

My cousin has been after me for weeks to come check him out -it is his first year on varsity- and I felt like it was just something I should do for him. First and foremost, high school bleachers + an already sore back = not the greatest day I could have had, but he was so happy to see CJ and me there that I was more than willing to tough it out.

The reason my cousin was so determined for me to go is because he wants my son to wrestle when he is older. I keep saying that MJ is only nine months old and we have plenty of time to figure things like that out, but my cousin -smarty pants that he is- knew my excuses were just delay tactics because of how I felt about the sport.

I grew up in a house where weight was always an issue. I ABSOLUTELY refuse to raise my children in the same environment. The idea of letting my son participate in a sport where he would be weighed on a daily basis is a big deal for me. That alone I was not sure if I could be okay with.

After watching a few matches, I found that I could partially get into the action when it was not someone I knew (which was most of them as I do not make a habit of frequenting high school events) but when it was my cousins turn, every body slam, every rough move made me squirm in discomfort. How could I possibly remain a calm and sane person if I were watching another boy do that to my MJ?

My husband used to wrestle and takes no issue with the sport. He said he would never allow any of our boys (if we have another one) to cut more than five pounds to “make weight.” I can be okay with that. As to watching my boy potentially take a beating? Well, we will have to wait and see. Maybe MJ will never really get into wrestling.

I have a feeling that no matter how I may try to encourage another winter sport, wrestling may be what I am stuck with. My cousin already attempts to teach MJ moves -getting the baby to pin his teddy bear. He is confident that he can turn MJ into a state champ by the time he is a freshman in high school. As that is quite a long way away, I say go for it. MJ adores him and I love watching them spend time together. As to whether or not I will be spending a lot of time in sweaty wrestling rooms, only time can tell. WP_20121229_001

Pinstripes and Plaid

Pinstripes and plaid DO NOT go together. Hence, why I made my fiance change his clothes one night before we could go out. My grandparents fought on his behalf, saying that he looked just fine the way he was and how it was not fair of me to ask him to change just because I did not like something about his outfit. To this day I still maintain that my grandmother could not see the pinstripes from across the room, otherwise she would have been on my side.

Papa still likes to joke when we are out on whether or not his clothes match. He even called me at my bridal shower to tell me that he was afraid to let Grandma leave the house because he did not think she matched.

“Will she pass?” he had asked me on the phone. Well she did, but he sure did not when he came to pick her up. He had on black pants and black shoes, but was wearing white socks. He says he is too old to worry about the color of his socks.

This started me thinking though. Who decided that you should not wear stripes and plaid at the same time? (Besides the obvious that they just do not look good together.)