Last week I told CJ he owed me and I was going on a girl date whether he liked it or not. He had gone out to happy hour with some guys from work and had plans to go fishing that weekend, so I told him I wanted to treat my sister to a movie. He simply laughed and said, “Have fun.”

I called my sister and told her we would be going to the local, three screen theater that night and the movie was her choice. I instantly regretted it when she told me what she was picking. The three choices were the new Thor movie, Happy Death Day, and It. As an avid Stephen King fan, she chose It. I don’t know why I thought for even a second there was a chance of her picking anything else. Here I was, hoping to watch some Chris Hemsworth, and was instead trying to mentally prepare myself to have my pants scared off.

In my attempt to get ready, I decided to watch the trailer for the movie. I hadn’t seen it before since I had no intention whatsoever to see It. I watched the first one and thought it wouldn’t be so bad. I started the second one and about halfway through I was already going, “nope, nope” and knowing I was in for a terrible evening.

As my family tends to have volume control issues that are exacerbated by the situation, I ordered our movie tickets a little loudly since I was already so nervous. My sister made a comment about it and the ticket lady told us not to worry. Since we were the only ones in that theater, we could be as loud as we wanted. This information did NOT make me feel better. In fact, it made me feel worse. We were now the only potential victims should something happen. Who wants to be the only ones in the theater for a scary movie?

After the time it took to get concessions and visit the little girls’ room, the movie was just beginning as we entered. So house lights were down, screen was black, and there was creepy music. We had no choice but to stand still until the WB logo appeared so there was even enough light to find our seats. It was not a good way to start.

Within the first five minutes of the movie, I had texted CJ to let him know my sister was already hiding in her sweater and had jumped twice. Not cool. She gave me a little bit of beef for tattling on her, but I told her since she picked the movie and was making me suffer through it, she was absolutely not allowed to act like a scaredy-cat and especially since it had just started and nothing had really happened yet.

In our efforts to tolerate the movie (and since we were alone) we talked and made fun of certain things to make them less scary. Of course, we still jumped quite a bit and my sister even squawked once. Altogether, it was a good movie though. I enjoyed it.

Since it was told in parts, my sister offered to lend me the book so I could see what happened at the end without waiting for the next movie. I told her that really wasn’t necessary. I don’t know if I would have the fortitude to sit through reading that book.

As we were walking to the car, I kind of made an ass out of myself. I moved to the side to make way for a couple walking toward us and ending up walking into a bush. I totally freaked myself out and screamed. The people in front of us turned around and looked at me like I was crazy. I apologized and informed them we had just seen a scary movie. I got made fun of the whole way home.

All-in-all, I didn’t end up as terrified as I thought and I did have a blast with my sister. Would I recommend this movie to others? Well, if you don’t have a basement, a sink, or an issue with clowns, you should be good.  🙂


Today, my heart is breaking.

For the past few weeks, ever since we received what we believed to be a wedding invitation, CJ has been in a bit of a funk. One of his brothers is getting married to his long-time, live-in girlfriend. Initially, CJ was a little miffed his brother had not asked him to be in the wedding party. (And I was miffed about the no children rule. Where am I supposed to scrounge up a babysitter for three children while in another state? Everyone I knew would be at the wedding…)

Anyway, CJ finally began feeling better after a conversation with his parents a few weeks later. Turns out it wasn’t actually a wedding invitation, it was a reception invite. They were going to be getting married earlier in the week (today, to be exact) and then the party on Saturday. He was a little sad his brother and soon to be sister-in-law were choosing not to share their nuptials, but he took solace in the fact he wasn’t be excluded from anything.

Well, this turned out not to be true. He was being excluded. And in a truly hurtful way. Last night, while talking to his parents about timing specifics to give our sitter, he discovered something awful. Today, while his brother gets married – parents, grandparents, siblings, nieces, and nephews will all be in attendance. And CJ wasn’t even invited. I understand that maybe they were thinking of the fact it would be hard for him to come in the middle of the week, blah, blah, blah…but the simple fact of the matter is they did not invite him AT ALL. To even give some semblance of pretending they wished he could be there for the event.

He was heartbroken. He doesn’t even want to go anymore. I have convinced him it is the right thing to do (plus, I don’t want to cancel the babysitter I worked so hard to get), but he is still finding ways to rebel. He refuses to shave. He knows his family, especially his mother, is not overly fond of his beard. He wants it loud and proud in any wedding photos – “If I’m even in any.” He wants to drive separately from his family so he can leave at his earliest convenience and not be beholden to anyone.

truly understand how he feels. When my one and only sister got married in 2008, I was not invited. She has given me many excuses since then, but that’s really all they are. Excuses. And unfortunately, I have been bitter about it ever since. When CJ and I got married in 2010, my mother really fought with me over the inclusion of my sister in the wedding party – my retort being, “She’s lucky she was even invited.” Well, she was in the wedding party, but my best friend was my maid of honor. Since she had introduced CJ and I, she deserved that spot anyway. Sometimes the bitterness even gets turned up a few notches when my plans with my sister get blown off so she can hang out with her best friend – who was invited to her wedding.

I don’t know how to make CJ feel better. I try not to cry in front of him because I know he is upset enough. I cry for me, remembering how I felt and still feel. I cry for CJ, knowing exactly how he will feel today and the days after today. I cry for the relationship with his brother that will always be tainted by this because I know for a fact that it will be. There’s no coming back from this. The willful exclusion of a family member from a major life event is altering.

Never would I wish this feeling onto anyone. Seeing CJ suffer with it wounds me almost more than when it happened to me.

I hope he is able to move past it. I hope he is able to approach his brother  with more grace than I had with my sister. I hope he can forgive.


“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.

National Siblings Day

This past week, Facebook was filled with pictures and sappy messages in honor of National Siblings Day.I never really post on Facebook, except for pictures for my parents or in-laws, but my sister posts A LOT. I saw what she had tagged me in for NSD and thought it was really sweet at first.

Happy siblings day!!! I don’t have an up to date picture of us but u know I luv ya!!! Lol

Only a few minutes later I saw she had tagged one of her girlfriends in a post. It was also accompanied by a photo they had taken when they went out last week.

Although ur not blood related I couldn’t have asked for a better sister to grow up with and have our kids grow up together! Happy siblings day!!!

How can she possibly not understand how much this hurt my feelings. I AM her sister. We ARE blood related. Yet she openly admits on Facebook that this friend is her preference in the sister department. I obviously no longer thought my post was very sweet.

I guess I should be over it by now. I mean, this is the friend she invited to her wedding when I was not invited. At least CJ understood…


As a woman in my late 20s (I had to cop to it sometime), it is hard for me to admit that I get lonely. A lot. My husband is my best friend and I love him for it, but sometimes I crave more.

My best friend since middle school – we served as each other’s maid of honor then matron of honor – moved 13 hours away about four years ago. What was once skyping and phone calls has devolved to Facebook comments and the occasional text message. I miss her.

The handful of friends I made before MJ was born were a few years younger and still in college when we met. Once our place of work closed, they went their separate ways. Well, from me that is. They are still friends; in fact they all live together. I miss getting together on Thursday nights to watch Grey’s Anatomy and just chit-chat.

My sister lives extremely close by, but we are so completely different that although we get along, we don’t hang out. She likes to party and get a little tipsy. I much prefer a different kind of evening. I love her because she is my sister, but I wish she were my friend.

After being with CJ for nearly eight years, he has finally convinced me to give up on his sister being my friend. I didn’t even get a chance to know enough about her to see if we would get along before she expertly and completely shut me out.

CJ tries to reassure me that once MJ, Q, and the new baby are older, I will find some of what he calls “mom friends.” I see his point about running into more woman my age with more in common, yet I feel he severely overestimates my ability to make friends.

This whole entry sounds so depressing…I promise to no longer go on a Friends binge while hormonal.

YCN #6

My most memorable concert experience is not because of the concert itself. My favorite moment happened before I even entered the venue doors.

My sister and I went to a Cobra Starship concert when I was junior in college. My boyfriend had gotten us discount tickets as the band was playing where he worked at the time. We were so excited because it was our first concert. We saved for weeks so we could buy as much merchandise as we could.

We left early to avoid the traffic, but we had an easy ride in. We expected a long wait in line to be screened before we could enter the venue, but the queue moved swiftly. Right before the doors, there were security guards checking bags. As I had driven that night, I had a small purse with me. I held it open as I approached security, but continued my conversation with my sister as I knew there would be no issues.

I halted in talking to my sister when I realized the guard was not letting me pass. He was shining a flashlight into my purse on something in particular. From my angle, I could not tell what he was looking at and my mind raced to think of what I could possibly have in my bag that would cause security to keep me from entering the concert.

The guard called his female co-worker over to my sister and me. He motioned into my bag with his flashlight. The female guard shrugged; she did not know what he was looking at either. He reached his hand into my purse and pointed to the object. She rolled her eyes and said to him, “You’re an idiot. That’s a tampon.”

I am still not sure who was more mortified by this: him or me. I do know that I have yet to ever see another human being display the same amazing shade of red upon their face.

I honestly barely remember the concert – I know we had fun, the music was great, I bought a hoodie that is still my favorite one – but I will never forget the look on that poor man’s face over thinking a tampon was some unknown, possibly dangerous object. Embarrassing, somewhat. Memorable, definitely.

I was watching an old episode of Charmed and I could not help but get a little depressed while watching. Obviously, as the girls are sisters, there is a fair bit of fighting yet there are these moments between them that I cannot help but to be jealous of. There are instances of true friendship between them where they whisper secrets and hold hands. They know they can rely on one another and share confidences.

I am really jealous. I will admit it. When Piper and Phoebe held hands while running off and giggling, I cried because it is something I have never had and something I fear I never will.

When I got married, I went from having one sister, to having two. Both my sister and sister-in-law have a way of making me feel lacking. I live ten minutes away from my own sister and yet only see her when my parents visit from out of state and only talk to her when my mother forces the issue as she does not usually take my call.

I want the sister relationship I see or the one I read about in books. I want to be able to confide things that I may feel comfortable telling CJ yet know he could do without such feminine knowledge.

All I know is I will do my damnedest to be sure my children have a better relationship. *Here’s to hoping*

The Purple Paint Incident

My mother has been after me to share the story of what she refers to as the “Purple Paint Incident” ever since it happened a few weeks ago.

My extremely pregnant sister and her two girls were over to pick something up and I was rushing around to get ready to leave for work. MJ and my sister’s youngest were playing in the foyer where I had foolishly left my work stuff where they could reach it.

Normally, this would not have been too terrible as the most they could have gotten into was work bag, but on this particular day, I had an almost full gallon of purple paint with my things as I was planning on doing a project with the kids at work.

I was in my bedroom, my sister was in the living room, so there were no adults around to thwart them. There was a big boom and I ran out to see the hardwood floor, in the house I have owned for less than a year, covered in purple paint. I (quite rightly) begin making incoherent noises. To this day, I am still not quite sure who was the culprit. MJ had purple splashes down his belly, but my sister’s daughter had purple hands and feet.

They both began crying, afraid of being yelled at, and my sister’s four year old begin chanting: “I didn’t do it, Aunt Amber. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.”

My sister grabbed some paper towels and began wiping up the mess while I took care of the open can of paint. The four year old was still chanting when I came in the house so I had to reassure her that I knew she was not responsible for the mess.

My sister told me that she had done the best she could and went to corral the children into MJ’s playroom. I panicked. The floor was still purple and I was not OK with that. I got some warm water and we both went back to work on the spot.

From her vantage in the playroom, the four year old felt it was her duty to point out any spots she thought we were missing. My sister had to quit before the spot was completely up as the baby was making her uncomfortable and then she went to entertain the still crying children.

Somehow, the two year old ended up with some sort of whistle and would not stop blowing it. As she was part of the reason the floor was purple and her sister was not helping, still shouting out instructions, I became even more frustrated than I was. I told the two year old that if she would not stop blowing the whistle, I would shove it up her nose. In hindsight, this may have been a harsh threat to make to a two year old, but remember, my hardwood floor was PURPLE!

Needless to say, I no longer like the color purple. I was able to get all but one small spot off the floor, so there is now a piece of furniture there to cover it up 🙂


Today is a day of frustration. My sister watches MJ for a few hours on Fridays, between when I leave for work and CJ comes home. I always drop MJ off at 2:00pm. ALWAYS. Today, at quarter to two, my sister called me and said to not drop MJ off at her house – she was out getting her nails done. Are you kidding me? She relies so heavily on my babysitting money to drive her daughter back and forth to preschool that she hounds me about it every week (even though I give it to her the same day every time), yet she has money to blow on a manicure. WTF.

She wanted me to drop MJ off at Walmart, where she was getting her nails done, but I did not want to. He has been sick for the past few days and was finally getting better. I did not want him in and out of cars, running around, etc. Plus, she has two girls of her own to handle while her nails got done.

I really did not have a choice because I do not have someone else to watch MJ. As I was driving to Walmart, my sister tried to call me. My speaker does not work, so I did not answer. She immediately tried to call again so I pulled over to take the call. There had been a change of plans. As her nails got done sooner than she thought and her girls were hungry, they were going to go to Pizza Hut.

I was livid. I did not want him in a public place around other people when he was sick. I did not want her feeding him – we are a paleo family, whether she agrees with that lifestyle or not. She promised she wouldn’t and they would go straight home. I did not believe her.

CJ and MJ always come to visit me on Friday nights on my dinner break. MJ looked terrible when they got here and CJ looked like he was ready to kill my sister. MJ had gone from looking and sounding almost 100% better to being so sick it was heartbreaking just to listen to him breathe. There was no way my sister had taken him straight home.

CJ tries his best not to take his frustrations out on me as he knows she is my sister, but I agree sometimes. I will always love her, but her nonchalance when it comes to the care of MJ really bothers me. I do not have anyone else to watch him while I work and I only work part-time so he can spend most of his days with me. Both CJ and I wish we could figure out a way where I could stay home and he could always stay with me. Plus, my sister is pregnant with baby number three, due in August, and there is no way I am going to let her watch MJ after that.

Most work-from-home jobs do not seem legitimite and they scare me away from even trying to investigate them further. I would love to watch a few children in my home as I used to work at a daycare for three years, but all my ads and fliers do not seem to be doing any good. Hopefully something good comes our way soon.

Sorry about my complaining.

Wish There Were More Time in the Day

Perfect Scoundrels is the first book I have begun reading since MJ was born that I have been waiting a long time for. Most of these types of books, I would always finish within a day or two. However, now that is something I cannot do. It is taking me far longer to read this book than I wanted, as I have to sneak in a chapter or two here and there; most of the time before bed.

Even now, I am just wanting to read my book to find out what happens, but I am making myself work on my writing for just a little bit while I have some extra time. I understand now when I would reccomend a book for my sister and she would tell me she just did not have the time to read it. There really is not the time I used to have especially when there are more important things that I want to take care of after MJ goes to bed but before I do.

So far, my writing is going…shall we just say decent? I have some pretty detailed character bios. I have decided that since I cannot devote as much time as I would like to it, I should take notes at every opportunity so I do not lose any plot, info, etc. I am getting pretty excited about it.

Back to writing I go! Or maybe to my book 🙂