Monday, November 11, 2013

2 a.m. thoughts

it's so far past my bedtime... and so close to my wake up time that i'm truly considering just staying up until i get the big kids on the bus... then locking bray in the room with me and making him snuggle all day tomorrow while i take a nap then do some more editing. that's part of the reason why i'm up so late... work. editing. it's a blessing and a curse. i love that i get to stay at home with my baby, but it's also a bit aggravating at times that i don't get "off" like most people do. (and heaven knows my brain doesn't go into "off" mode... what's that like, i wonder....) but my work schedule isn't exactly the conundrum i was referring to. no... so "crazy white girl" of me, but my thoughts are those of love... lust... relationships... or the lack thereof.  i feel so privileged to be allowed the opportunity to capture love between couples on their wedding day... to photograph engagement sessions and help create save the dates... i love it. i really do. i love seeing the bride get excited just before time to walk down the aisle... then fighting back the tears as she sees her groom's reaction to her beauty... it's glorious. it really is. and to be a part of that is really something special. i love seeing people in love. then i come home and start working and as i'm editing, i can't help but wonder why it is that no one has ever looked at me like that? or maybe they have and i didn't see it... maybe i was too busy looking at something else (knowing me, it was probably something sparkly... "ooh- that's pretty..." i get easily distracted) i've been acting so tough lately... like i don't care. like i'm done with love and emotion and all of that... but truthfully, it's because it's friggin' scary.
to be completely honest... that long, slow dance with bliss is utterly terrifying to me. don't get me wrong- i meant what i said when i said that i want that. i do. i really do. i want that forever kind of thing. but what if i pick a forever and it's the wrong one (i've already done that!!) and i'm not his forever or he's so emotionally scarred from the last time he thought it was forever that he won't even let me in?? or what if i meet him and it IS right and he is perfect for me and i for him, but the timing is all wrong?? in opening yourself up, you're risking complete misery. you're allowing yourself to be vulnerable to this person who you're allowing the power to destroy what's left of you. if there's love in me left to give (and i do believe that there is so much in there for the right man), i don't want someone to kill that. i don't want them to take what's left and just discard it like last week's trash.
if he could just see me for what i am... this fragile bird who sings this big song like she's the biggest, brightest bird there is, but inside is broken and scared... if he (whoever he is... dear no one) could see that and nurture that part of me and allow me to love him and care for him as well, the heavens above know that i would spare no amount of affection to show this man how i adore him. but, what if he doesn't? (oh, but what if he does!?)
and therein lies the problem. if there is one beautiful thing in this world- it is love. if there is one thing left that is holy and whole and still holds the ability to be pure and eternal- i believe with all that is in me- that thing is love. but, dear God, if there is one thing terribly horrific and utterly terrifying in it- that, too, would be love. loving something with your entirety, all the while knowing that it could vanish within a split second.

scary.

Monday, November 4, 2013

dear no one....

lately i've been forced to think about what i want. what i truly want. i say that i don't want a relationship. that i don't need a man. that "ain't nobody got time for that". and, i mean, that's all true to some extent. i am a single mother of 3 small children. (harley would give me "the look" if she knew i referred to her as a "small child"... her hormones scare me.) i run a growing business. i like independence. i like not having to answer to anyone. i feel, sometimes, like the eternal 3rd or 5th wheel. it doesn't always bother me.... except for when it does.

see. i joke a lot. i'm funny. i act like things don't get to me. but they do. sometimes things really get to me.

"sometimes, i just want somebody to hold. someone to give me their jacket when it's cold... got that young love feeling when we're old.
sometimes, i want someone to grab my hand. pick me up, pull me close, be my man... i will love you til the end"

that's Dear No One by Tori Kelly. (it's kind of my favorite song right now)

so here's the deal. i want someone to cook bacon and pancakes for. i want someone to like me. like GENUINELY like me. someone who could stay up at night just laughing at me and with me. i want someone who wants to hold me close. i want someone who looks at me and feels like he must have done something right at some point in his life to have ended up with me. i want someone to feel lucky to be with me. (even though i will know that i'm the lucky one) i want someone with a past just as screwed up as mine. i want someone who has been hurt, because they know what it feels like and i feel like damaged people are less inclined to inflict pain on others. but, at the same time....it's scary, isn't it? because if you let someone in, you run the risk of them hurting you the way that others have in the past. and who wants to get hurt?? i know that if you don't risk it, you'll never know. i do know that. but what if it doesn't work?? what if you give this person everything that you have emotionally and they say "no thanks"? what if you're not enough? that hurts.

because eventually he'll find out everything.
my middle name.
my birthday. my sign.
where i was born. where i want to grow old.
how old i was when i learned to ride a bike. who gave me that bike. who taught me to ride it. how absolutely terrified i was when we had to take off the training wheels.
he'll learn how old i was when each grandparent passed away and what it did to me.
how much i hated missing a day of school because i was afraid i would miss out on something.
he'll know that my eyes are the exact color of milk chocolate, what every scar is from, and where my birthmark is.
he'll know my favorite books, movies, candy, food, color, and song...
he'll learn that i will never part with my yellow tens no matter how old and grungy they get.
eventually he will know how hard it is for me to fall asleep at night because my brain just won't shut off and he'll see firsthand that when i wake up at 3 a.m. it's almost impossible for me to go back to sleep.
he's going to know all about the first time i had to attend a funeral for a friend; a life taken way too soon.
he'll find out my fears, my wishes, my worries, my constantly growing bucket list...
at some point he's going to see that i tend to live in my own dream world where anything is possible.
one night, he's going to wake up and i'll be sobbing as quietly as possible into my pillow to try to keep from waking him... and i won't even have to say anything. he'll know why.
he'll know all about my first heartbreak, my dream wedding, my problems with my parents and why my brother and i no longer speak.
he will have heard all about ellie and nana and know that those losses affected my life more than any i can imagine.
this poor, sweet man will know all about my strengths, weaknesses, unsurpassed laziness yet boundless energy, and my mixed emotions.
he'll know about my love for mayonnaise , my dream of being famous when i was 5 (who am i kidding... i still daydream about it...), my need to quote bridesmaids word for word all the way through...
he'll know that i'm terrified of growing old alone, but that i'm also so terribly afraid of loving someone so deeply then not being afforded the opportunity to grow old with them.
he'll know my bad habits.
my mannerisms.
all of my facial expressions... including my pout.
this man will know my laugh like it's his favorite song.
he will have learned the way i chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget when i'm nervous, and kiss.
he will know that i laugh to keep from crying and that a lot of the time, it's simply a defense mechanism to keep people from getting too close.
eventually he will learn that i have spent more hours than i will care to admit picking out wedding flowers.
tiles for the bathroom.
paint color for the bedroom walls.
bridesmaid dresses.
he will know that i leave my clothes everywhere... and it will annoy him to no end. but he will eventually just accept that as a part of me.
he will learn that it takes me 15 minutes to order at Starbucks because i can't just order something simple.
he'll know that i organize my dvds according to which ones i like the most and watch most often, and that i check my horoscope almost daily... just in case.
he will know my order for chik-fil-a, and that i need taco bell at least weekly.
this man will know that, for whatever reason, i like my sandwiches cut into triangles and that they don't seem to fill me up if they're cut into 4 squares.
he will be able to tell that i have to pee just by the look on my face, and he'll see when i'm crying- even if i'm not shedding any tears.

he will know ALL of it. top to bottom. inside out. every little thing.

so what if i LET him and it's not enough? what if he learns all of that and just decides that the idea of kayla was more appealing than the actual person.

then what?

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Dear Broken Hearted,

You're hurting. I get that. You've known him for so long... it seemed so right... how could it be over? Or maybe you just met her... even though it seemed like the two of you had been together forever... and now she's gone. How did that happen?? How did you get to this point where this person that, for a moment, had become your everything is now suddenly nothing? Maybe it was a big fall out... something happened. A lie. A fight. An infidelity. Or maybe it was little things that were adding up all along that you didn't see until you looked up and realized that they were done. They were already gone even though they were right in front of you. Or maybe it was neither of those. Maybe it was just a simple case of incompatibility. It doesn't matter. I mean, obviously, it matters. If it didn't matter you wouldn't be hurting. And you are. You feel like someone kicked you in the stomach. Like you want to throw up.
I'm not here to tell you that it's going to be okay (even though it will). I'm not going to fill you with tales of my own heartbreaks (they are too numerous to count). I'm not going to tell you that there are plenty of fish in the sea and that this one will someday just be a memory...  I mean, all of that is true; yes. But, I also know firsthand (and all too recently) that love doesn't care. It doesn't care that there are other men. It doesn't care that you should be over it because she obviously doesn't deserve someone who will give her everything that you would have. Love does not understand that someday you will wake up and just be okay. Because, honestly, you don't want to be okay. You just want him. You just want her. Despite *knowing* what is best for you... I think Collin Raye said it best when he said "It ain't the mind that calls the shots 'round here..." It's not. The heart wants what the heart wants. And right now your heart wants what's not necessarily good for it. It's a vicious cycle, really. Once you start thinking you're okay, something happens... they come back or reach out, or something reminds you of them... and you fall back into first this unrelenting hope. It just won't let go. You can't not think that maybe this time it will be different... and then, when it's not different at all, the pain. God, the pain. No, I'm not going to tell you to be strong. You don't have to be. I'm here to tell you that not only is what you're feeling a completely valid emotion... it's NECESSARY. You need to feel what you're feeling now and experience it in it's entirety in order to be okay. "Hide your crazy and start acting like a Lady?" No thanks. Let your crazy out if you have to. Do whatever it is that you have to do to feel better. You need to hurt like this. You need to feel it in every fiber of your being. You need to sob until your chest hurts and your eyes burn. You need to just experience it all. Because once you're over it, you'll know that you're truly over it. You will know that there are no left over emotions waiting to sneak up on you. You will be happy to move on.... or to be single. But the most important thing is- you'll be happy. And when someone shows you a picture on Facebook of him with his new girl, you can actually be happy for him. You can think about the happy memories without dwelling on them; without hurting. When someone tells you that she's with someone new, you can genuinely think to yourself "I hope he treats her right" without wishing that you could still be that someone.
And, let me tell you from experience, that makes it so worth just succumbing to the pain.

Monday, September 30, 2013

i have a tendency to ramble.....

it's almost midnight and i've just sat down to eat dinner. i almost didn't even bother, considering that i'm deliriously tired,but decided that (having only eaten 2 1/2 chicken fingers and 3 french fries today) it would probably be a good idea to heat something up. so i popped some left over chinese into the microwave. i'm so tired. and the baby is still awake. i can't think that he has EVER in his entire life been up this late. but, he had vaccinations today and has had a really rough day ever since (that's been  hours ago now...) so that means that this mama has had a rough day, as well.
my life is not easy. it is wonderful, but it is not easy. i laugh a lot. i've been told that i laugh too much and that "everything is not funny" (amazing how long something you say to a woman can stay in her mind), and i suppose everything is not funny. i know it's not. my life is not funny. again, it is wonderful. and i love my children and i love so much about my life. but i'm tired. and i'm lonely. i'm far from alone, but i'm so lonely. braydon sleeps in the bed with me, not because he is dependent, but because i am. he's not much of a cuddler, but i try my best to make him.
my mornings start around the same time most other moms' mornings start. my alarm goes off at 6:30. that's the first alarm that tells me i'm about to have to wake up. then the 6:40 alarm goes off and i know i have to get up. i fuss with children about getting out the door on time while also trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake the baby. this is a difficult task, in itself. once the "big kids" are out the door, i start my coffee and begin laundry. with 4 people in this house, there's ALWAYS laundry. i can't even begin to give you a general rundown of an average day in this house because it is NEVER the same. but it ends the same way most every night. after dinner, harley will lay down in one room, carter in another, braydon & i in my bed. disney jr is on the tv until braydon falls asleep. then big bang theory. i don't even want to turn the tv off, because then i'm left alone with my thoughts. so much in my life that i want to change. so much that i want to get better at. i suck at housekeeping. i do. i really, really do. and i've never denied that. i wish i were better at it. i wish i were more organized. i want to be. i take comfort in knowing that i'm not the only person who is like that- that i have friends whose houses look just like mine. but at the same time, that's not helpful for me. because i hate that i am THIS bad at it. if i could pick one thing to change about myself- that would be it. because, really, i think i'm pretty awesome for the most part, other than that. i need to get another job. something with a guaranteed income so that i know how much money i'll be bringing in each week. but then i think about things like wondering how i would get done the things that i get done during the day. the client meetings, the emails, the doctor appointments. we have a minimum of 1 dr appt each week during the day that either i have to attend, or take one of the children to. and if it's not a dr appt it's an appointment of another kind. i don't have a husband or close family around to help out with that kind of thing anymore. and i understand that women have done this before me. so i don't want pity or anything like that. i'm just trying to navigate it all and i don't really know what i'm doing. i'm learning. and i'm trying. i just feel a lot of the time like i'm failing. i want so badly to be able to do this without asking for help. without a man. i don't want to NEED a man. but, honestly, i do want one. i know. i'm a serial monogamist. i'm always dating or talking to or married to someone. have been for 20 years. ever since josh. but, i just love being in a relationship. i love having someone to care for. someone to love. someone to love me back. (probably one of the reasons why i love being a mama so much) i love having someone to watch crappy tv with at night. someone to get me interested in things that i never in a bazillion years thought i would be interested in. WHO watches poker on tv? i do. i mean, i never did. but i caught myself doing it a week or so ago and he's not even here anymore. he rubbed off on me, i suppose. i watched a little baseball over the weekend. by myself. no one was making me. and i was into it. what the heck? but i like that. i like having someone to open me up to other worlds. i like having someone to kiss me. i like that a lot. i mean, of course i don't want to have to force something that isn't there. and i don't want someone who doesn't actually want to be with me. and of course, the ones who want me, i don't want (isn't that the way it goes?).... but it's not all relationship stuff. yes, i'm lonely. but there's just so much on my brain that doesn't shut off so i'm not going to sleep until 2-3 every morning. then waking up at 6:30. and even that sleep isn't uninterrupted. then my days are what they are. and i have to be home no matter what i'm doing so that i can be here at 2:50 when the big kids get off the bus. it just never stops. and i don't even know what the point of this post is. i just couldn't sleep. mainly, tonight, because i have a fussy toddler next to me. but i guess tonight i just thought i would write (ahem. type) everything that i was thinking.
i think that getting back to going to church regularly will help me with the clearing of my mind and hopefully give me a little more peace. my friend, krista, and i are searching for a new church home. part of the reason i don't go every sunday like i want to is that it takes a lot to get myself and 3 kids dressed and ready and get to my home church about 20 miles away. i would be more likely to go regularly if it were closer. we want a church home that will have services on wednesdays, as well. that's important to us both. so we will start somewhere this wednesday. i'm looking forward to that. i always feel better about my life when i'm active in the church. maybe i should pray that God will help me keep my house clean. :/

just because

just because my heart no longer breaks when i hear your name, it doesn't mean it doesn't bend a little. 
just because i don't cry any more, it doesn't mean that i don't still get sad. 
just because i no longer hope for a future with you, it doesn't mean that i don't think about what it could have been like.
just because i've moved on, it doesn't mean that you don't still cross my mind.
just because i blocked your number, it doesn't mean that i don't still check my phone to see if you've text. 
just because there's someone new and i deny that he looks anything like you, it doesn't mean that i don't see it myself when other people bring it up. 

just because i love you still, it doesn't mean that i'm still in love with you and it doesn't mean that i'm not okay.
just because i do care, it doesn't mean that i want what we had- or what i mistakenly thought we had. 
just because i wanted you to be "it" and for a moment thought that you might be, it doesn't mean that you were. "it" is still out there for me. "he" is out there. 
just because i'm writing this, it doesn't mean that i think you're going to care about what it says. 

just because my heart no longer breaks when i hear your name, it doesn't mean it doesn't bend a little. 

Monday, August 19, 2013

you may say i'm a dreamer....

i live with my head in the clouds. i've been told that for as long as i can remember. and i don't deny it. but, heck- if it weren't for dreams, we would have nothing to aim for, right? i mean, if you shoot beyond the stars and you fall a little short, you've probably still accomplished something pretty spectacular.
one would probably think that, being divorced twice before i turned 30, i would have written off marriage and being in love and all of that. aaaaaaand, i pretty much had. i swear, i had *just* gotten out of my mouth that i didn't want to date. i just wanted to do the single mom thing and not have a boyfriend or anything like that probably until the kids were grown. and, boy, did i mean it. but, in the back of my mind, there was this one guy. the dream, if you will.

my pinterest board is full of my dreams. crafty things that i could make if i had the sewing machine that i will someday have. things i plan to paint, or build, or cook. organizational tips... that's *really* dreaming big for me. ;) and, of course, like most women on this "electronic hoarding site", i have boards for my dream home and wedding... (aptly named "in da hizzouse" and {how appropriate} "...a girl can dream, right?")

in kayla's fantasy land, my home looks something like this:


without that strange twiggy thing in the front. and smaller. i'm thinking ranch instead of split level. and more stone... and wood instead of vinyl. and i don't see rocking chairs on that porch. mine would have to have rocking chairs. and you can't see the back, but in *my* dream, the back has a big deck. with a fire pit. 

inside is a big fire place. there's a fire place in the master bedroom/bathroom, as well. it's one of those 2 way fire places that's in the wall between the two rooms. and, also in the master bedroom (near the fire place) is a big comfy chair that i can curl up in and read. 

i'll revamp my bedroom furniture and turn my current dresser into this

{it's actually next on my project list}

and, i dream about my wedding. i pin a LOT. but, when i dream about my home... and i dream about my wedding, i dream more about the *feelings* involved in all of that. i dream about decorating my home for Christmas... baking snickerdoodles the night before, like we do every year... with the kids running around in their Christmas pj's all excited about Santa... the smell of cinnamon wafting through the house. i dream about Sunday afternoons, cooking a big family dinner while my husband plays golf, and we all sit at the table together and eat and talk about the highs and lows of our week. i dream about having someone to come home to me, walking through the door and kissing me "hello" before retiring to his recliner for the remainder of the evening while i finish dinner and bathe the kids. i dream of someone who will catch lizards with carter, throw a ball with braydon, threaten harley's boy friends... not a daddy for them- harley and carter have a daddy. but some one who will be there in their lives, showing them what a love and a marriage and a family is supposed to be. 

i dream about all of the pretty, cutesy stuff that goes into a wedding, but more than anything- i dream about the feeling of getting ready the morning of with my closest friends, knowing that in a few short hours, there will be waiting at the end of the aisle for me a man who wants to spend the rest of his life loving me. a man who, despite all the reasons he should run, will be waiting at the end of that aisle... smiling... nervous... happy. and i'll cry and i'll laugh and it will be the beginning of everything because i will know that that's it. that the man in front of me is the man that will love me eternally. {that's a long time}

my dream involves a lot of love. my dream is having someone to take care of. someone to cook for. someone whose laundry i'll wash, and whose shirts i'll have to drop off at the cleaner's because i can't iron. someone who will make sure that my tires stay rotated and oil stays changed. someone who will spend his days off of work doing things that he enjoys doing because he works so hard when he's at work, that he's earned "his time". someone who doesn't complain when i meet a girlfriend for lunch and mani/pedis because he respects all that i do. someone who will support me in my business and offer opinions and ideas and genuinely care about what it is that i do. someone who will appreciate that i want to cook dinner at home most nights, but will also want to take me out from time to time. someone who will understand that, no matter how long we've been together, i don't ever want to stop "dating" him. my dream involves, eventually, another baby. (i'm not crazy, i swear. i just love this mommy thing) and my "dream man" will be excited when we start trying. and will want to be there for important doctors appointments and will fall asleep in the recliner with the baby on his chest. he'll jokingly try to take all the credit for how perfect our child turned out (because obviously, the child will be perfect) ;) 

so if i didn't have that "dream wedding" or that "dream home"... as long as the rest of it fell into place, i would STILL feel like i was living the dream. and, to be completely honest, thinking that it may not happen- that maybe my chance for that dream has passed, kinda bums me out. but, you know me... i'm a dreamer. can't seem to make myself give up. 


Sunday, June 16, 2013

How to NOT suck at being a single mom {as told by the one who probably sucks at it the most}

This morning I received not one, but TWO Happy Father's Day text messages from two very special mommies. They are both *such* good and kind people, that it really means so much to have my parenting efforts recognized.
I also was in the process of my semi annual house cleaning, and cooking Sunday dinner for the short people. So, yeah, I was kind of feeling like Superwoman. I started thinking about everything that I've learned in these almost 11 years of being a mother, and the short amount of time that I've had to be both. {let me preface this by saying that I am in no way downplaying the role that the baby daddy plays in our children's lives. he loves them dearly and would love to see their faces every day, however, he has a job to do and that job currently has him travelling the country living his dream}
If you're reading this blog, you're probably well aware that I am the QUEEN of unsolicited advice. I have no problem telling you how you should treat your husband, or the things you should expect out of a relationship even knowing that I kind of SUCK at the whole wife/girlfriend thing. (and bowling. I'm no good at that, either) That being said, I will *now* tell you how to NOT suck at being a single mom. Feel free to roll your eyes and say that I obviously know NOTHING about that which I speak of. Maybe I know nothing other than the fact that I have been beaten down with experience. And gotten back up. And been beaten down again. All before noon. Daily.

1. Let your kids sleep in as late as they want. This prevents you from having to feed them breakfast, thus saving you money on the grocery bill. If they wake up at 10, promptly inform them that it is "almost lunch time" and you're "about to start working on it"... this *should* help. Until around 4 when they're asking for lunch and you remind them of the sandwich they had at 11 and they let you know that the sandwich was breakfast and that they would like to eat lunch before dinner... this is when you throw candy at them. That usually keeps them quiet for a little while.

2. Have older children help you out around the house... and by "help you out" I mean, tell them to take the younger ones and go away. This is the most help you could ask for. Because they're only gonna do a half ass job at whatever you ask them to do anyway, so you may as well just do it yourself. Go ahead and judge. "The kids have to learn somehow.." Yes. They do. But then my house is STILL in shambles... after the kids cleaned. No, thank you. I mean, it's not gonna be CLEAN when I do it, but close enough for me.

3. Never underestimate the power of humiliation. I don't care what anyone says, it works. I just made my oldest son play fetch with a stick outside this morning because he kept bringing them in the house. I was tired of it. After several long minutes in the south GA heat running after a stick that I just kept throwing in the yard, pretty sure he learned. We came inside, grabbed some ice water and hugged it out. Well-- I patted him on the back. He was sweaty from chasing that stick. And he's an 8 year old boy, so he smelled bad. Regardless, he was most concerned that one of his friends was going to see him "playing fetch". I don't think he'll do it again.

4. Let them lie. Let the story get *really* good. Watch them spin that tale as far as they'll let it go. The entertainment level is boundless. And to watch them thinking they're getting away with it will fill you with a hope that they could someday have their own sitcom on Disney--- obviously, this child is a natural. Nod your head, let them think you fully believe them, let them walk confidently back to their room. Count to thirty. Then go bust 'em. It's beautiful. Just trust me.

5.Let them sleep with you as long as they want to. I could be wrong, but I've never known a high school senior who still sleeps in the bed with Mama and Daddy. Granted, sometimes you have to move them once they fall asleep, but the days of cuddles are going to be gone before you know it. Again- trust me. By the time you realize it, it's too late and the moment has passed. You'll never look back with the feeling that you spent too much time loving on your babies.

6. Cry. Gahhhh, just let it out!! You'll need it. I tried to hold it in. My kids are with me all the time. Even when the oldest two were at school, I still had the baby. Your kids don't need to see you break down. That's no bueno. They're still babies. They don't need to know that you're stressed or at your wit's end (until you make them go play fetch in the back yard--- a sure sign that Mama has SNAPPED!). But I was given the sage wisdom from one of the best single mother's that I know to just lock myself in the bathroom and let it all out. Unfortunately for me, my middle child figured out how to unlock the bathroom door and found me unravelled on the cold floor and asked "is it because you pooped and we're out of toilet paper? because I know where some is..." *smh*

7. Introduce them to GOOD music. Whatever you think is "good", let them jam out. Because whatever they listen to now is what your grandchildren will listen to, and what you will eventually have to listen to coming from their little mouths. My daughter does a great rendition of Harper Valley PTA. My grandchildren will be singing Travis Tritt and Blackhawk to me at some point. I look forward to that.

8. Dance. We do that A LOT around here. My kids love to see me let go and just be silly. Aaaaaaand I burn some calories. Win/Win.

9. Feel free to SUCK. That's how you DON'T suck--- accept that you're gonna screw up from time to time. We ALL do. The best parents (single, married, remarried, gay, lesbian, WHATEVER) suck. Day in and day out. Some times MULTIPLE times a day. I've messed up this parenting thing I think 5 times today already. It happens. Don't feel like cooking? Don't. Ramen Noodles are awesome. And the kids love them. Lunchables are great, as well. Or, heck, cereal. They'll thank you. Really.

10. Love. That's really the most important. Just love them. With everything you have, love those babies. As long as you do that, you can't mess up too bad.




Tuesday, June 4, 2013

my baby

It's not even 6 a.m. yet and I've been up for more than 2 1/2 hours. Can't sleep. My baby has surgery tomorrow and his pre-op appointment is in just 4 hours. I'm already a nervous wreck.

He's my baby. Yes, I am aware that I have a son younger than Carter, but Carter was my baby longer than anyone else. He was my first son. The first person to show me the bond between a mother and her baby boy. The kid drives me BANANAS. But, he's mine. And I love him more than life. I wish with all of my heart that it could be me on that operating table. It's just a simple, routine tonsillectomy and he NEEDS it done. But I know he's going to hurt after, and that breaks my heart.

For the moment, he's excited. He knows he'll get lots of jello and ice cream and popsicles after. He also knows that he got to choose what we're eating for dinner tonight (fried chicken fingers and potato salad) and that Mr. Chad will be here. That makes him happy. He's a special little boy and I love him with my entire heart. I'm just ready for this to be over with so he can get "all better" already.


Wednesday, April 10, 2013

... today's thoughts...

"I write because I never know how I feel until I've read the words I've written." Or something like that. I don't remember the exact quote and quite frankly I'm too lazy to look it up (despite the fact that I found the quote last night on Pinterest and I currently have a Pinterest tab open in my browser). I like that. That's absolutely how it happens for me the majority of the time. See, I'm a planner- but I'm not. I like to have a plan. To know what's going to happen and when. I don't like for things to feel out of my control. Like, if someone says "I'm gonna swing by later"... well, WHEN later? Because to some people "later" might mean in 10-15 minutes (to me, that would be "a few"), but to others it would mean HOURS later, which would give me time to do more stuff. Or to come up with an excuse for why I can't have company. ("My mom won't let me have anyone over" no longer works. I'm the mom. The reality is- my apartment is a mess. That's it. Oh, and I would have to get dressed. And I'm probably still in my pajamas.) Or vacations. I like to know exactly where we're going in enough time to not have to stress last minute about details. Or with my business. When it comes to planning sessions, I like to know ahead of time exactly what my "vision" is for a certain session.
But, my writing is for me. For me, alone. If someone gets something out of it, I'm ecstatic. I love knowing that someone has read my blog (even if it's only one person) and can relate to something or is entertained by something. But, essentially, it's for me. And for my children and future grand-children. So they will know who I was as a person. But, I can't plan my writing. I over-analyze my words and take apart and rearrange posts until they are merely a shadow of what they once were. So, half the time when I write, I don't even know what I plan to write about. I just sit down at my computer and let my fingers go. There's something so therapeutic for me... the continuous click, click, clicking coming from the keyboard. The way my fingers know exactly what order to move in. Almost like a dance. That probably doesn't even make sense to many of you. But I think some other bloggers out there will get it. I don't have to worry too much about what I say, or for how long I say it. No one is paying me to write. It's not for a grade (however, I approached the majority of my college English writing assignments in the same way- waiting until the morning that a 5 page paper was due to even begin working on it, and making a perfect grade)...
Facebook asks me every day "What's on your mind?" but there just isn't enough space to write everything that's on my mind. Not usually, at least. Especially not lately. I mean, I *could* post a super-duper blog-post length status update, but no one would read it. And only a couple of people would "like" it. And I need that validation. That 15 people + "liking" my status lets me know that I'm cool. (JayKay, I know I'm cool)

But there is something that's on my mind right now. Like right this very minute. And, although I don't like to offend people, we all know that Kayla is pretty good at speaking her mind. I'm okay if we disagree on most issues. Gay marriage. Politics. Religion. To each his own. But this is something that is quite personal to me for several reasons and I'm not gonna sit back and shut up any more. If you are offended by my opinion on this, please feel free to not read my blog, defriend me on facebook, block me... whatever you feel necessary.  Because it's a big friggin deal to me.

Boys don't hit girls.

Period.

I really shouldn't even have to say more than that. But (betcha didn't see this coming) I will.
I was raised in a home where I was taught that boys shouldn't hit girls. My brother wasn't allowed to hit me (even though he did). My daddy didn't even spank me very often, come to think of it. Most of that kind of punishment was left to Mama. (As a Mama, I get it. I would rather spank my children that have my husband do it anyway... if I had one)

I'm not going to get into details over my last marriage, because (to be completely honest) at some point I would like to completely erase that part of my life from my memory. I'm usually all about "relish the past because it made you who you are"... but really, it made me scared. It made me not trust men. I no longer believe that any man is as amazing as they start out having you believe because at one point, THAT man was my "dream". I wasn't perfect. Oh, I was FAR from perfect. But I'm not here to "pull the wool over anyone's eyes". Those of you who know me know that I openly acknowledge my faults and flaws. But- WITH THAT BEING SAID- I don't believe that there is EVER a case where a man should hit a woman. Put his hands around her throat. Throw her down. Push her head into a wall. Point a gun or a knife at her so as to threaten her. I don't care what she does. NOW. *That being said as well*** I'm also well aware that  "bitches be cray". I got it. I know. I don't think that a man should just sit there and take it while a woman is wailing on him and being crazy and stabbing him or whatever. Hold her. Restrain her. You're probably stronger than her anyway. Get away from the situation. But it's just not right. PERIOD. She cheated on you? (Or you think she did?) Leave her. You don't need that anyway. But you don't touch her. She went crazy and called every girl in your phone and called you out on something? There are obviously some serious trust issues and you probably shouldn't be together anyway. She got in your face and said "Hit me. I dare you!" Don't. Just don't. (It's obviously a trap anyway) Boys don't hit girls. Men don't hit women.

AND THIS IS *REALLY* BAD... when people KNOW that a man has physically abused a woman and they come out and say "It's okay man, we all make mistakes. You're so strong for admitting it" No. It's NOT okay. You're still a douchebag who hit a woman. You are a wuss. I know a man who claims to be a bad ass. Thinks that people are scared of him. Thinks he holds some sort of power in this town. Yet the only people that I've seen be intimidated by him are women and children. Those are the only people I've ever seen him step up to. I have NEVER seen this man come toe to toe with another grown man. He's told MANY many stories. But nothing I've ever actually witnessed.

I can not IMAGINE a man ever putting his hands on my daughter. I can't imagine one of my boys putting his hands on a woman.

I don't get it. Do these men not have mothers?? Would they not care if their mothers were hit by a MAN?? (hm. Now that I think about it, two of the "men" I'm currently thinking about do have Mommy Issues... ) What about their daughters?? Their sisters??

I'm gonna step off my soapbox now. But, I'm gonna end by saying that if you or someone you know has been a victim of domestic violence, there ARE resources to help you. If you are in the Valdosta, GA area, you can go to valdostahaven.org or call the Haven at (229)242-1544

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Dear Mr. Robert Downey Jr.,


Or can I call you Bobby? Because I probably wouldn't. I actually intend to have that put in our wedding vows someday.

"Do you, Kayla Shealey Eldridge Brooks Shealey (because that's just funnier than Kayla Shealey), take this man, Robert Downey Jr., to be your lawful husband; To have and to hold, forsaking all others, and always calling him by him complete and full name- Robert Downey Jr.?"

I do. I will.

Forever and ever and ever and ever. And ever.

See... I have this weakness for... what?? What'd you think I was going to say? The bad boy? The troubled one?? That's not entirely true. I have a thing for the witty ones. And the borderline mysterious ones. And the sexy ones. The *trouble* with this, is that when you combine all of those things, you often end up with the bad boys...

And, I know, I'm trying to steer clear of that. Trying. HOWEVER. If you happen to see Mr. Robert Downey Jr... will you please let him know that there's just something about him doing the best almost-duckface ever :


that just turns me to mush. It just gets to me. I don't know why it does. But, really- I don't think it even needs an explanation. Especially when he also crinkles his nose up like this:


He's just so stinkin' adorable. And when he says things like:

I just wanna say "That's right, baby..."

Anyway. I can't say much more on this subject. I just started thinking about Iron Man 3...  then, obviously, 2 and 1... then every other movie I've ever seen him in and I just wanna give him eskimo kisses. I just do.

But, for now, I'll just settle with looking up images of this personification of physical perfection on pinterest...

Signed,
The Future Kayla Downey Jr




Thursday, March 7, 2013

I'm in shape (round is a shape)

Okay, I jest. I am not round. Anyone who has seen me knows this. However, on that same note- anyone who has seen me in shorts (or a bathing suit, or heaven forbid- naked!!) knows that I'm not "in shape" either. "Big boned" women run on one side of my family. "Rail thin" women comprise the other side. I didn't reach 100 pounds until my second trimester of pregnancy with Harley, but gained a WHOPPING 60 pounds by the time my daughter was born. After having been made fun of the majority of my life for being "skinny" (surely, I was anorexic or bullimic... why didn't someone feed that child?! ..believe me, this child could eat you out of house and home) I was so afraid of becoming "too thin" again that once my weight started to creep down below 120, I grabbed a milkshake and consumed extra calories (however unhealthy they were) wherever I could. I don't think that people realize the toll that takes on a person's self esteem. I feel it is so similar to people being put down for being larger, when they are honestly healthy. We are all different. My mother, my sister, and myself could all eat the exact same thing and have the exact same exercise regiment and we would all three have different results- despite being from the same bloodline.

And now, I sit at a crossroads where I am not getting any younger (oh, come on! as if that's even a thing! NONE of us are getting younger. Benjamin Button does not exist... that's so absurd. I don't even know why we say that.)... I will be 30 in August. I have three children, so my body has gone through the hormonal and structural changes that happen most of the time with childbirth. I have "child-birthin' hips"... The majority of my fat is stored in my mid-section (hello, muffin top!!) ... My thighs are... well, "fuller"... The three youngsters that I affectionately call my "short people" literally sucked the life out of my once perky breasts for the entire first year of their lives... (I didn't even realize how great my body was until it just wasn't anymore... but do any of us EVER appreciate our nineteen year old bodies before we are 29??). I look at certain clothes that I *want* to be able to wear before I'm too old to be able to wear them. I mean, I don't want to be "that mom" who, at 45, is still attempting to share clothes with her teenage daughter (granted, one perk to having my daughter at the age that I did is that when she's 17- I'll be 36... still relatively young). At the same time, I am fully aware of my body type and you will not catch this girl in clothes that shouldn't be made in my size. Well, I say that, but I am aware that there are plenty of "toned" size 6/8/10/12 (and I'm not DARE going to tell you which one of those that I am). I just do not happen to be one of them. I have thought about working out. Hell, I have daydreamed about it. And I could blame it on the children. I just don't have the time. But, that's not the case. I'm just lazy. Honestly. If I have spare time, I spend it in front of the computer. (Don't act surprised. You've seen my Facebook.) I know WHAT to do. I used to be a personal trainer. I used to be at the gym twice a day. I used to be in shape. The gym was my addiction. And I felt great! You would think that, knowing that, I would easily step right back into it. But, no. Because I don't want it bad enough. I'm content with my flowy tops and maxi dresses. I like salads. But, they're drenched in Ranch dressing (full fat, please), extra cheese, boiled eggs, bacon... Mmmmm... Heck, just a few minutes ago I wanted a snack. I have healthier options here. But I had a Mt Dew and a Snickers. Not because it was EASIER than an apple. But, because that's what I wanted to eat. And looking good in a bikini this year just isn't worth it to me to have to give up my snickers and Mt Dew... or the chocolate chip cookies and whole milk that I had the other night. Or the "kids chilli" that I'm going to have tonight (it's amazing, really, a sweet chilli over mac & cheese... mmmmm). THAT BEING SAID... this is a personal choice for me. When I get asked out on a date that involves swimming or fishing and I have to wear minimal clothing- I am well aware than I'm going to wish that I had swapped out a few of these blog sessions for the gym. I know this. And I will have to deal with that. And I will. Then. I probably still won't care that much. I'll probably drink more water in the days before and probably not eat as much junk for a few days. I'm fortunate enough that I'll probably drop enough in those few days to make me look "not so bad". Now, I'm sure you think that this is me saying "Hey, it's okay for us all to be fat asses. Just eat what you want to eat and be happy about however you look as a result". Negative. I have friends who LIVE for the gym. One of my closest and dearest friends has endless Instagram photos on her wall of her at the gym or running, or of her running shoes (really, Alyssa?? Your shoes??) or her abs... which are sick. Like, it's ridiculous how ripped this girl is. And people criticize her for that. Heck, I tell her all the time "eat a cheeseburger". But I can do that. Because I used to be her roommate. And she farted on me in her sleep. A lot. (and was in so much pain because of her gas that she MADE me sleep with her because she was convinced she was having a heart attack. just a little Alyssa history for you). But some people get really mean. If she shows off her body, she gets comments about being "too skinny" and being obsessed with the way she looks. Let me go ahead and tell you all right now--- IF I ever get in shape.... If hell freezes over and the day comes when I decide that I would rather hit the treadmill than eat half a pound of raw cookie dough in front of the computer--- you may as well go ahead and unfriend me. I WILL be "that girl" who posts about the awesome workout she just had... I will post "after" pictures of my ponytail that has halfway fallen down, due to me sweating my ass off... because I still think that's sexy. I think it's sexy when she does it. I think it's sexy when other girls do it. It's just plain sexy when someone is so passionate about something that they are willing to work for it. Just like I feel sexy when I fry chicken that's been soaking in buttermilk for 24 hours. I feel accomplished. (I might not smell great, but damn if I don't feel sexy). Should that day ever come (and, don't hold your breath because I can almost assure you that it will not) when I pose for some sexy boudoir photos (and believe me, I would)... go ahead and delete me because I will post one on my facebook. Nothing that would show more than what a bathing suit would. But, you WOULD see what I worked so hard to achieve. Don't want to see it? Well, there are people that don't want to look at pictures of your kid's first poop in the toilet or the dinner you just prepared either. But we post what is important to us. (and I've probably posted poop and food... possibly on the same day, even) If Alyssa or ANYONE else wants to post a picture in gym shorts and a sports bra and you, personally, prefer the more curvy figure- keep your mouth shut. Seriously. You don't have to like it. It's a GOOD thing that we like different things. If everyone liked Heidi Klum, Adele would be screwed. Figuratively, of course. Instead, it's literally because someone knocked her up. Because he obviously liked her. Whether it was because of her figure or in spite of her figure, doesn't matter. We are attracted to different types. Personally- I like looking at Channing Tatum. I'd rather lay down with the guy that played the cop on Bridesmaids... or Paul Rudd... I like a little more "soft"... (I repeat, I still like to look at Channing Tatum, and I probably wouldn't turn him down... *probably*...)

But it's hard for us to just love each other and accept each other and be happy for each other when we see ads like this:



They tell us that, instead of us all just being women living the lives that WE want to live, we are separate. And, based on what other people "comment" on these pictures, we determine our self-worth. What gives anyone the right to call the middle group of women "Normal"? Based on what? The women that live where you live? Because I can assure you that if you travel to different parts of the world, that is not always "the norm"... In Egypt, I'm sure that there is not an abundance of blonde women. However, I don't believe that they have ads with redheads on top... Brunettes in the middle, and blondes on bottom, calling the brunettes the "normal" ones. (although, brunettes OBVIOUSLY are more "normal" ... hehehe) I don't know. Maybe it's different. But, some men are going to prefer the supermodel type. Some women prefer to look like that... they eat right, lots of cardio and yoga and whatever it takes to get that long, lean body. Other women prefer to weight train and sculpt their bodies like the beautiful women on bottom. Others eat pizza and raw cookie dough and end up in the middle. Heck, some women work out and eat healthy and look like the women in the middle. And that's okay. It's ALL okay. So, how about- we congratulate each other on the choices that we make for ourselves instead of constantly putting ourselves against eachother? Everything is not a competition. You've been married to the same man for twenty years? Amazing!! Congratulations! You're 40 and never been married? Good for you! That's awesome!! Not quite 30 and on your second divorce?? GO ME!! You stay at home with your children?? You are unbelievable! You work outside the home?? Wow! Impressive. You spend 2+ hours a day at the gym? I admire your dedication! You ate 3 cupcakes while watching the Little Mermaid last night? That must've been awesome.

Let's put away the negativity because it helps NO ONE and start building each other up.

Especially because after the cookie dough I ate while typing this... I need it. ;)

Monday, February 25, 2013

Act Like a Lady, Think Like a... WHAT???

If you're reading this, you probably stumbled across my blog via Facebook. Which means that we're probably "friends". At least acquaintances. Which means that you are probably well aware that Divorce Numero Dos is well under way. It was filed on Valentine's Day and will be final the middle of next month. "The Ex" and I will have no communication whatsoever. I will assume my maiden name once again (one step ahead of ya, kid... I changed it on Facebook months ago). As far as I know, we will never see one another again. Which is fine by me. It stinks for the baby, but I suppose that part is my fault. And, in reality, he will be better for it.

So, here I am at a crossroads once again. (Bone bone bone bone bone bone bone bone... now tell me whatcha gonna do when there ain't nowhere to turn?.... Sorry, I can't say, hear, or type "crossroads" without thinking about Bone Thugs N Harmony. Don't hate.) I digress. The crossroads. On my own. A single mother of 3. Less than six months left in my 20's. Growing a business. Raising short people. No baby daddies around to get the kids every other weekend to give me a break. (oh, it get's tiring) I'm learning. Every single day I'm learning something new about myself or my children or the kind of life that I want. Things that I didn't take the time to do after my first divorce. Sure, I purchased the books. "He's Just Not That Into You", "It's Called a Breakup Because It's Broken", "How to Break an Addiction to a Person", and numerous other self-help titles. And they were helpful. I may not have applied the knowledge at the time, but I stuck it all back in a dusty corner of my mind and pulled little snippets out when someone came to me for relationship advice. {Yes, it's okay to laugh. I am well aware of how absurd it sounds for someone to come to *yours truly* for relationship advice} But, I was so wrapped up in Kayla. I went through what I refer to as my "temporary insanity period" where I went out all the time, drank, partied... I did what people refer to as "doing me". Well, there's a big problem with that. I had two small children. I may have only been 22, but I had a one year old and a three and a half year old when Reuben and I separated. I don't recall a whole heck of a lot about that next year unless it involves my roommate or the girls I worked with. My kids were cute. I had pictures of them to show off and make sure that everyone knew that I had the most precious kids on the planet. But, if someone had asked me what their favorite foods were, I couldn't have told you. If someone wanted to know what they were "in to", I wouldn't have had a clue. I don't think their daddy would have known either. Their grandmother did. His mom. She knew everything. So did Nana. They picked the kids up from day care. They fed them. Put them to bed. THEY were raising our kids. We were being kids. Of course, we snapped out of it and stepped up. But that's time that we will never get back. I tell you all of that to tell you this- that is why my children come second to no one. I know first hand how fast they grow up and that I don't want to miss a thing. My children are now ten, seven, and two. I eat, sleep, and breathe them. They drive me crazy. I can't pee alone. Which also means that I don't get to date. Even if I'm in a relationship with someone, I don't get to go to dinner. Or to the movies. And while I was explaining this predicament to someone very close to me, the comment was made that I needed to find someone who would, rather than say "Let me take you to dinner", say "Let's find something that we can do with the kids". That kind of shocked me. I don't want men coming in and out of my children's lives. I don't want someone to offer to take my children and I to a family movie or out to pizza, just to disappear a week or three weeks or a few months down the line. That's just one more person for my kids to grow attached to that will no longer be in their lives. This person just laughed and said "You need to watch Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man."


I had seen the book before. I even picked it up once and skimmed through a good bit of it, reading the parts that I thought most applied to me. But, to be completely honest, I thought everything I was reading just sounded outdated, despite it being a newer book. The stuff in there just sounded like it would never work. This guy, Steve Harvey, was supposed to be giving us insight into the mind of a man and how to "turn the game around" and make them treat us with the respect we've been craving. Like I said, it didn't sound like it would work. None of the guys I had met or been on dates with would have made it through all of these "challenges", of sorts. Mr. Harvey was going to leave me single for the rest of my days, waiting for a man to live up to these expectations. But, once this particular person suggested the movie to me, I thought "Why not?"

Thankfully, the film adaptation was on Starz On Demand this month, so I snuggled into bed, put the two year old to sleep, grabbed a slice of Italian Marscapone Torta (which is amazing, by the way... so rich and decadent... *perfect* for fatty, sappy lovey movie night alone), and ordered the movie. I have to admit, I loved it. But, I really am a sucker for love stories anyway. {Hey, what do you expect? I am an estrogen-fueled woman in my late, late 20's} And it made sense. So, I made a decision that night that things are going to change. I have to set standards and if a man wants to be a part of my life (as well as the life of my children), he's going to have to live up to those standards. And, believe me, it has crossed my mind a few times to wonder what man in his right mind is going to want to date someone with three children... But, ya know... if that guy doesn't come around for another 20 years, I'm okay with that. Two of the most amazing women I know raised their children without a husband or boyfriend, while running businesses. So, if they can do it- so can I. But, as for the things that any future contenders will have to respect {much of which I picked up from this movie, some of which are just personal to me}

1. Excessive drunkenness will not be tolerated. I put this one first because it is a very big deal to me. I've considered this to be a "deal breaker" and so many times keep letting it slide. No longer. I really don't have a problem with drinking. I like to have a few glasses of wine, as well. And I am quite partial to vodka and cranberry. However, if you're going to drink, know your limits. We are no longer 21 and testing how far we can go. If you drink, by now you should know how much you can drink without getting out of hand. Stick to those limits. If you don't drink at all, that's cool, as well. Just saying that I will no longer tolerate a man getting drunk and out of control being a part of my life. I have three children. I have no desire to "babysit" a grown man.

2. If he wants to talk to me, he will find a way. Once you've made the initial contact (whether you ran into each other somewhere, or through a random facebook message or text message), if a man wants to talk to you badly enough- he will. If you've been texting for a few days and suddenly he disappears, it's easy to think "I'll just text him and remind him that I'm here..." or if you've been messaging on Facebook and you were the last to send a message, you could think "oh, maybe he forgot.. I should message him again." Yeah, lets not be that girl. Obviously, he made an impression and he's on your mind enough for you to want to maintain contact. Which also means that it's looking like he's not feeling the same. Excuses are just that- excuses. When a man is busy with work, school, family, whatever, he will STILL find the chance to talk to you if he's genuinely interested. If days go by and you haven't heard anything... well, "he's just not that into you". And it can be a sucky realization, but it's true. I'm the same way. If a person is *that* important to me, I make the time for them. {side note: sometimes it's because I feel like I've done something wrong and as a way of avoiding confrontation, I cut off contact. Lame, I know. But, that's kind of how I roll. I'm working on that.} So, if a guy doesn't maintain contact- we move on.

3. The five date rule. "What guy is going to wait FIVE DATES to get laid??" Well, the right guy. And, with me, he's gonna hafta wait a lot longer than that. I am not the "booty call" girl. I will not be. As far as that goes, right now, I am not looking for a physical relationship of any sort. I'm not looking for a guy to hang out with then make out. I'm just not. And if I'm talking to a guy and things start getting sexual before I feel like they should, I think I'll just cut it off right there. Because, quite frankly, if a guy that I'm not in a relationship with starts talking sexually to me, I start to think that that is what he wants- a sexual relationship. Which means that we aren't on the same page. Steve Harvey explained it like this- Ford Motor Company (as with MANY other businesses) have a 90 day probationary period where the employee has to prove their loyalty and commitment to the company before receiving any benefits. Why do we think we have to give in and let a man receive the "benefits" of being in a committed relationship with us without actually having to be in a relationship?? To keep them around, right? We think that if we're awesome in bed it will make him realize just *how* awesome we really are and then he will want to commit to the whole package. Right?  Wrong. I mean, it might work. Maybe. But, probably not. More than likely what will happen is you will sleep with him, the sex will be amazing, and things will be great for a while. Then when it ends, you're left wondering what was wrong with you... why he was able to just walk away from the awesomeness that is *you*... and you feel used. So, whether you want to wait Five Dates.... Or 90 days, or whatever--- have some standards. Don't give up the cookie!! (Hey, it's what they called it in the movie. Don't laugh. Okay, laugh. I did.) Make him work for it. Don't let a guy text you asking all about your family, your career, your life, then request that you start talking dirty to him. I mean, if you want to be a booty call- by all means. Do it. But, not a whole lot of us out here want to be that. If you want something more meaningful, GET the "more meaningful" first. Because rarely have I ever heard a man say "The sex was so amazing- I have to marry her." When I hear a HAPPILY married man talk about his wife, he talks about everything that makes HER the woman that she is--- that's why he married her. I'm not setting a particular number of dates. (although, five dates really isn't a whole lot, when you think about it) But, I will not be sleeping with a man that I am not in love with. I will not lie next to a man that I'm not in a committed relationship with.

4. REQUIRE him to be a gentleman. Do you know why men don't open doors anymore? Because we beat them to it. We've hopped out of the car and are walking into the restaurant before they've had the chance to get around to our side of the car. Wait. If he starts to walk off- wait. He'll get the hint. He may be caught off guard at first, but chances are- he will open the door. And when you smile and say "Thank You", he will want to open the next door. And the next. Do not complain that a man doesn't do things that you don't let him know you expect.

5. Don't waste each other's time. I have three kids. That is not going to change. That's something that a man needs to know up front. I have been asked before "When do you think I should let him know that I have a baby? I don't want to scare him off by telling him right away."... Well, little girl, what's your plan if you tell him after you've completely fallen for him and a woman with children is a deal breaker for him? Are you going to just stop having a child. No. You will not. So, may as well get it out there. The movie brought up a good point... what if you date a guy for six months and decide that he's a keeper. You think "Now is the time to introduce him to the kids... I've seen him with his nieces and nephews and his friend's kids. He loves children and they love him. This is obviously going somewhere... So, let's do it."... and they clash. Not just typical awkward introduction "Mama's got a new boyfriend" stuff... but seriously clash? Or he realizes that he's just not feeling the whole "family vibe"?? You've both just wasted six months. Being a mom is a huge part of who I am. I am a bit of a different person when I'm not in "mommy mode"... but a man will need to see both sides and love both sides. Now, how to approach this with the kids?? That I don't know yet. I'll figure that out when I get there, I suppose. As of right now, there is no "man". I'll probably write a blog about it when I cross that bridge. ;)

6. I, personally, want a man who goes to church. Not just a man who says that he will go with me. But a man who already does. Because I don't want him to have to change his life to be with me. I want us to already have the same values. I've learned through trial and much error that when people try to change for other people, they just don't change.

I think that's about it. I mean, I'm sure there are some others, but really- this is quite a short list. ESPECIALLY in comparison to the list of more than 250 things that I wanted in a man that I made in middle school. Of course, I do have a thing for facial hair (something I just discovered over the past year.... I'm sure the hairy men of the world thank Duck Dynasty for that one daily), and would love a man who fishes... especially if he prefers salt water to fresh water.... and someone who can grill a steak like nobody's business... But, I mean, ya can't be too picky, right? ;)

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

my soul mate

I know that, if you're reading this blog, you probably weren't in attendance at my Nana's memorial service last Sunday (January 27th, also my baby sister's birthday)... so you're probably a bit perplexed at the title of this particular blog post, most of you knowing full well that I am currently going through my SECOND divorce and that, for the past seven or so years, I haven't been the biggest believer in soul mates. However, that was only as a soul mate would apply to a person of the opposite sex that I wanted to grow old with and die with and would give my life for and read to every day from their personal journal should they develop Alzheimer's and not remember a thing... you know, the stuff Nicholas Sparks writes about. I didn't believe in all of that. In fact, just a few short months ago as Nana and I were riding around in the car probably going to walk around the mall or get some groceries... something we typically did at least once a week... I told her that, emotionally, I didn't NEED a man. That the only person in this world, other than my three children, that I felt like I NEEDED was her. That, when her time came, I just wanted to climb in the bed with her and fall asleep and when she took her last breath, so would I take mine. Because I couldn't imagine that I could wake up a single day without her being on this Earth with me. Three weeks later and every day is still a struggle. Going through her clothes, I just laid on top of them and breathed in her scent and cried like I had honestly never cried in my life. I pleaded with God to just let me be with her. Now- let's stop right there- before anyone thinks that I was (or am) suicidal... it wasn't like that. I'm a firm believer that if you kill yourself, you've just lost all rights to Heaven anyway. So taking my own life would not get me back in the arms of my best friend. Regardless, I didn't want to breathe any more if she couldn't. I didn't want my heart to beat if hers wasn't. Even as I type this, I just feel this incomprehensible NEED for her. I can't describe it at all.

When Nana was in the hospital, one night I was crying to my sister about it and she made the comment that Nana was my soul mate. And she was right. And I see her in every thing I do. I look to the left of my computer screen and I see a picture of my three children and myself from Easter. A picture that she took on the courthouse lawn in front of our church. Easter Sunday.... this is the first time that I've realized that I won't have her on Easter. A first for me. I won't have her to call to talk about how neither of us want to spend money on a special Easter dress... but how we look good in anything. ;) I sure do love that woman. Just one more thing, before I get to the pictures, that I'm going to miss about her: Starting when I was really young (probably 7 or so) after ballet or church, Nana would drive through Dairy Queen, get us each a dipped cone and we would just ride around town... making sure to go through all of the more wealthy neighborhoods and pick out houses. Then we would pick out something about each house that was the reason we weren't going to buy it. :) For example, that big house by the dam... Nana and I would "ooh" and "ahh" over it... then she would make a comment like "but look at that yard. There's just no need for that much yard" or "But it would be just about impossible for us to get out of this driveway when traffic is heavy" and I would counter with "Yeah, and I'll bet the bedrooms are so big- I would NEVER be able to get my room clean. We should probably just stay where we are." And it's funny that it seemed like just something fun to do at the time, but what it taught me is that there's always something to complain about. Even the people in those big, fancy houses have stuff to complain about. We had everything we needed in that double wide on Cedar Hill Drive.

Okay... on to the photos. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you- My Nana. My best friend. My soul mate.

Geraldine Shealey Scott
01-02-1940 -  01-11-2013


This is my favorite picture of Nana. Probably EVER.
It looks so "Gone with the Wind" to me. I even had it
blown up to an 11x14 and matted and framed to have
at her memorial service. It will be hanging in my home...
as soon as I can find a hammer. :/


I picked on Nana all the time for being such a nerd.
But, look at her!! Such a nerd!! :))

Nana and little baby Kayla. :) Probably getting me ready for church,
if I had to guess. 


My Nana was the ultimate "Lady". So classy. So elegant, always.
No doubt that is how she will be remembered- a classy woman of God.

Nana and Harley aka Joyce the Cat. :)
This was a phase Harley went through at 2 where I had to
draw a cat nose and whiskers on her every morning and
she told people her name was Joyce the Cat. :)


Nana and my Granddaddy. This has also always been one
of my favorite pictures. 


Nana used to make Nikki and I matching or coordinating outfits all the time.
This was for a family reunion. I'm assuming around July 4th...


Nana on the right, pregnant with my Daddy. Granddaddy in the middle.
And Nana has told me a million times who the chick on the left is and I still
don't remember. I'm going to name her Elouise. There. Aunt Lady Eloise. 


Such a Lady. A Nerdy Lady. <3


Nana, My brother Eric, and me. I love Nana's stirrup pants, Eric's
"bangs only" haircut, and my sweet purple umbros :)


Nana and Granddaddy as teenagers :) Young Love


Nana said this was probably her first and last time in a boat.
She despised the water. :) Here she is with Daddy and Aunt LaTressa.


With newborn Daddy :)

Car model?? lol

April 2009


Nana & Eric


This is how I will always remember her. 


Eric, Ally, Nana, Papa, Jamie, Nikki, Reuben, Me & Baby Harley


Aunt LaTressa, Nana, Granny Granny (Nana's Mama), and Nikki.
Nikki is the only one in this Four Generations photo that is still here. :(


Our Church Yearbook photo

Uncle Hollis, Nana, and Uncle Horace.
Two of Nana's three brothers. They've all passed now, as well.


Ally, Nana, sweet Mandi, Eric, Me, and Jamie.
Mandi was Eric's girlfriend at the time. She was killed in a car accident a few years ago.


Nana and the twins again.


Daddy walking Nana to the altar when she married Papa.


Granddaddy, Nana, and Daddy. I can see some of Granddaddy and Daddy
in Braydon. Especially that facial expression Granddaddy is making there. 


Nana and two of her sisters, Aunt Velma and Aunt Portia


How funny is this one?? And I guess that's where I get it from. 


Nana with two of her best friends. Carol Blow and Sue Henderson. 


Well, she just looks a little snotty here. ;)


WHO is that tiny after having a baby??? Just my Nana.
This is with my Aunt LaTressa. 


At a church Luau


Nana and Papa


with her first (and favorite) Grandbaby- ME. :)


Prom 1958 I want that dress. Bad. 


Before church one morning. I had to be 16 here.
I can only remember that because my boyfriend at the time
and his best friend came to town from Jesup for the weekend and
came to church with us that morning and we took several pictures. 


Nana and Granny Granny


with my granddaddy. 


Nana, Harley, Carter, and Anslie. :)
Harley was the only one "camera ready". Typical. :)


More nerdiness. :)


With my Matron of Honor (Nana) and Maid of Honor (Erin)
at my first wedding. Aaaand- I still had braces. *smh*


Nana at her first wedding. This is the only picture that exists from that day.
I love it. I think I'll have this one blown up, as well. 


Giving Carter a hair cut. :)


Oh yes. Fashion of the 90s. Gotta love the long, floral skirts... :)


A family reunion in the 70s. Nana is the one in the middle laughing.
Daddy is the one on bottom with the killer 'fro.


More of me & my Nana <3


WHY did it take two people to put my shoes on??
Surely I wasn't that difficult. Nana and Aunt Velma. <3

Granddaddy showing me the new baby. Not sure I liked Nana
holding Nikki. Not sure I even liked Nikki. ;) lol


Nana, Uncle Lamar, and Granny Granny. I'm sure they're all
up in Heaven having a grand old time. 


Aunt Jackie Faye (Nana's sister), Granny Granny, and Nana
at Nana & Papa's wedding. 


Nana loves me. <3


Nana and Granddaddy in the middle. 


Nana and Papa. And me over Nana's shoulder. And Mrs. Sheila over Papa's. lol


With Carter after another haircut. :)


What I would give to kiss that face again. 
I swear, looking at this picture, I could smell her and feel how soft her
skin was against my lips. I kissed her probably way too much.
But I'm so glad I did. 


Nana with Anslie. How beautiful are my niece's eyes??


With Carter before his first church service


Just a couple of weeks before she passed away.
We were leaving to go look at Christmas lights.


With her Mama.


At my first wedding. 


At Eric's first wedding. 


Taking Nikki and I to church. 


Easter Sunday 2007. I only know that because I was
VERY pregnant with Carter. I think he was born the next week. 


loving baby Anslie. 


so sassy. ;)


look how chubby I was?? But I still love this picture. <3


Nana- top center


All of the Rowell siblings:
Clockwise: Geraldine, Lamar, Hollis, Horace, Jackie Faye


Nana and all of her grandbabies:
Clockwise: Jamie, Eric, Allyson, Nana, Kayla, Nikki


My last picture with my best friend.
I miss you so much, Nana.
Every minute of every day.