Why I WILL be watching 50 Shades...

Following the recent success of the 50 Shades of Grey book series, there's no doubt that the impending release of the film adaptation of the first book in the series has caused quite the uproar- especially in the Christian community.

Disclaimer: Before I go any further, let me go ahead and state that I AM a Christian. I was raised Episcopalian, and I love my Lord and Savior. I believe in God AND I believe in science, and I feel like that makes me a minority at times. I've been called a hypocrite, and to be completely honest, it doesn't bother me all that much. I respect other people's opinions and beliefs (well. for the most part) even when they differ from my own. However, I am aware that many of my beliefs and views aren't necessarily popular ones (I mean, a Christian Southern Democrat who likes her wine, reads "mommy porn", and loves Neil deGrasse Tyson... I'm used to being referred to as a walking contradiction). But I believe what I believe and if there's one thing I've found since starting this blog and turning my many facebook status updates into blog-worthy posts--- it's that I'm not always alone in feeling the way that I do. ((What?! Other women are just as crazy as ME?? Say it ain't so....))

So. ALL of that being said- I don't see what the big deal is. I hear (ahem. *read*) what you all are saying. And I respect your decision to not see the film, just as I respected your decision to not read the book. I mean, I don't know if it was so much me respecting your decision as it was me really not caring what you did or didn't do because it in no way affected my life. But regardless, this book in no way negatively impacted my relationship and, I would be willing to venture out so much to say that it did wonders for MANY relationships.

Let me argue this point for a moment. The biggest complaint that I've read is that this is considered "mommy porn" and that it is unladylike for a woman to be sexualizing a man in such a manner and that it is disrespectful to our husbands and boyfriends. The most common counter argument I've found is "well, men have been doing it for years". Well, I don't care about that. Men also scratch themselves in public and smell each other's gas and I don't care to do any of that. So that argument is invalid to me. However, what I WILL argue is this- yes, I read the book. I've read similar books. I've watched Magic Mike. In fact, I was an extra in the sequel to Magic Mike with one of my best friends. I was mere FEET from Channing Tatum and Joe Manganiello. And do you know that I have never ONCE fantasized about these men? Honestly, I have not. Yes, they are beautiful. Christian Grey in the book was sexy. His character was designed to be so. But, again, not once did I fantasize about him. What I DID do was think about the man that I do have. Granted, I didn't imagine him dancing shirtless to Pony, grinding on a stage. But, I absolutely used what was given to me by the films and books and projected them into my own relationship. "But that's not realistic." Well, duh. It's a book. It's a movie. Do you think Nick Sparks is realistic? It's a fantasy. (I would even be willing to go so far as to argue that the Notebook has given women more unrealistic expectations about love and romance than E.L. James on any given day) I do not feel that it is disrespectful to my boyfriend for me to enjoy either of these for entertainment. No more than I consider it disrespectful when he appreciates a woman's appearance. It doesn't bother him. It doesn't bother me. He's not concerned that I'm going to leave him because he isn't Grey-esque. (I will not fault that man of mine for failing to know the importance of Charlie Tango)

I also feel like the majority of the women who are anti-50 Shades haven't read the book. They formed an opinion based on what they've heard. We do that with people oftentimes, don't we? We hear something and immediately form an opinion based on the bits and pieces that came from someone else, rather than looking at the bigger picture. If you read the book, you'll find that while, yes, there are some very sexually explicit passages, there's also a genuine love story at the heart of it. It's the story of an innocent girl who falls in love with a broken man and teaches him how to love. They open one another up to things neither of them had previously experienced. It's a beautiful story. It's also a very sexy story. But calling this book "mommy porn" would be no different than calling it a "love story". It is both of those things, I suppose. But it can't be defined as just one or the other.

I'm not trying to convince you to go see it. To quote the great Rhett Butler- Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Watch it or don't. Read it or don't. But the rest of us who are all about some Ana and Christian would appreciate you not treating us as second class citizens (or as though we will burst into flames should we walk back into church on Sunday morning) when we buy our tickets in advance.

Laters, baby. ;)

To The Next Girl Who Dates The Man That I Love

To the next girl who dates the man that I love,

This may seem strange that I would even do this, but if I’m completely honest- it’s because I love him. He’s an incredible man, this man that we love, and I want all of the happiness in the world for him. There are things that I’ve learned in our time together- some things that I did right and some that I did terribly wrong. But, regardless, through much trial and error- I figured a lot out about this walking enigma of a man.

 

First and foremost, he’s not as confident as he appears. I’ve always said that no one loves The Sir as much as The Sir loves The Sir. That’s not entirely true. He talks a big game. By the way he acts, you would think that he thinks he’s the greatest gift to the world. He doesn’t really feel that way. Trust me. He’s intelligent and he knows that. He’s confident in his abilities at work, and knows what an asset he is there. As for the rest of his life, he’s as insecure as anyone. Compliment him. Don’t assume that because he says “I know” when you tell him that he’s sexy that he really does know. Most of the time he doesn’t really feel that way. Assure him that he is beyond attractive in your eyes. Find things that make him uniquely him and tell him how much you love those things. I’ll help you out a little. If you haven’t noticed yet, he smiles with his eyes. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Pay attention to that. That’s when you’ll know he’s truly happy. His hair two weeks out from a hair cut… It’s just enough to be ruggedly handsome. Run your hands through it. Not too much, because he gets annoyed with too much affection (we’ll get to that later), but do it and tell him how amazing his hair is. He’ll say “I know”. Don’t tell him he’s an ass. Don’t tell him he’s cocky. That’s something I would do. That’s something I shouldn’t have done. Laugh it off. Maybe say “Well, good. You SHOULD know”, and leave it at that.

 

Make sure he drinks water. It makes a huge difference. Maybe by the time you come around, he will have slowed down on his drinking, but whether he has or not- his water is important. But if he IS drinking- make sure you keep a cup of water nearby. If you’re out, always keep a water. He won’t order a water at a bar. You have to order it for yourself. Trust me, he will drink it. You may have to remind him that it’s there or hand it to him from time to time, but he will drink it.

 

He’ll take vitamins if you remind him. You may actually have to remind him, but it’s worth it. You want to keep him around as long as possible right? Remind him to take his vitamins.

 

He still cares deeply for every girl he’s ever loved. Do not let that hurt you. This is one thing I did right. Accept that he will always love those women and that it’s okay for him to always love them. It means that he has a huge heart. And he really, really does. Sometimes he will play songs that make him think of them. Sometimes he’ll do it when you’re not around and he’ll just kind of drown in the emotion of it all. That’s okay. Sometimes he’ll do it with you sitting right next to him. At this point, you have the option to get offended by it and consider him inconsiderate for doing so, or you can see it for what it is- he feels comfortable enough with you to let you in to see all facets of his beautiful soul. When this happens, just reach over and touch him. 3-5 seconds is long enough. He doesn’t require much. But stroke his arm or the back of his neck or put your hand on his thigh and squeeze for a second or two. Just let him know that you’re there. Please don’t get upset with him. This is just a part of him. Let him be free to be himself.

 

Another part of him- he can be extremely inappropriate at times (if you haven’t figured this out by now). When he gets out of line- tell him. But don’t be a bitch. That only makes it worse. Change the subject. Hand him the water (because that’s a sure sign that he needs it). Do something to make him laugh. 9 times out of 10 it works.

 

Dance with him. Let him twirl you around the dance floor and act like a complete idiot. He doesn’t know any actual dances. Do not let that stop you from having the time of your life with him.

 

You do not need to spend hours or a ton of money on a fancy meal for him. While he absolutely loves a good meal, he appreciates the thought and the meal itself more than the effort. I once spent about $30 and literally an hour and a half on this fancy, from scratch potato dish with ridiculously hard-to-find cheeses to accompany our evening meal. He ate them and appreciated it, but went back for seconds of the chicken that cost somewhere around $10. He pretty much ate all of the chicken, now that I think about it. He doesn’t need elaborate. You can pick up take out and have it waiting on him when he gets home. I think what he appreciates the most is that he didn’t have to worry about dinner for himself, and someone else is going to be cleaning up the mess afterward. And DO clean up the mess afterward. He won’t do it. He may say he will, but I know him. It will take you 5 minutes and it’s so worth it. He probably won’t even notice that you do it. But try not to let that hurt your feelings. Do it anyway.

 

Another thing about his eating- he’s not a big fan of desserts either. Go ahead, spend hours on a home made apple pie. I did. I ate it all myself. I can’t think that he even tried it. He does like banana pudding though. But he prefers the one with the Pepperidge Farm Chessman cookies rather than the Nilla Wafers recipe. It’s more rich, and far more expensive to make, but this is one of the exceptions to the rule of not spending a lot of money on his food. But don’t make it often. Again- he won’t eat it. But maybe if you go to his mom’s for dinner or a family function, make that. (also along the line of desserts- if you can bake at all- the neighbor at the lake house loves a 17 layer chocolate cake. Yellow cake, but home made buttercream chocolate frosting. Have Ben take one to him. They’re very, very kind people and that kind of gesture means a lot)

Thank you cards. That will be on you. He won’t do them. It isn’t because he isn’t thankful. His intentions are always the best, but he simply will not take the time. Do them for him. Maybe have him sign them, but just make sure they get out the door. He will appreciate that you care enough about his friends and family to ensure that they are appropriately thanked for the things they’ve done for him.

 

His friends. They may not like you at first. Don’t let it get you down. They’re good people. All of them, actually. Some of them may be a little wild… a little rough around the edges… but they are ALL good people. And what they all have in common more than anything- they, too, love this man. Especially his best friend. Hopefully he won’t hate you the way he does me, but if he does- please understand that it’s only because he wants the absolute best for his best friend. This doesn’t mean that you aren’t the best for him. It just means that he’s protective of him and there’s a possibility that no one will ever be “good enough”. But maybe he will love you. Regardless, he and his wife are two of the funniest, kindest, most gracious people you will ever meet. Be kind to them whether they like you or not. They love him. They are family.

 

He likes liquid fabric softener. I don’t even know that he knows he likes it, but he does. And when you wash the sheets, add in some of the fragrance enhancer, as well. It makes a huge difference. He may not notice that part, but if you use the lavender, it helps him sleep better. He tosses and turns less in his sleep and snores less, as well. I never told him I did this, but once I noticed the difference it made, I always used it on the sheets.

 

Pay attention to things that he wants or needs, but won’t purchase for himself. If you ever ask him what he wants for his birthday or Christmas, he will tell you “Nothing”. That’s not true. Oh. One thing- he prefers the women’s razors. The super expensive ones that already have the soap bar on them. The Gillette Venus ones. Make sure you keep those on hand for him. He won’t purchase them, but he loves them. He breaks a lot of beard trimmers, as well. I had planned to purchase an extra one to keep on hand for when the next one breaks. That may be something you want to go ahead and do. I did some research and Norelco is the brand you’ll want to get. And he loves hoodies. You can never go wrong with a super comfy hoodie “just because”.

 

Sundays are hair cut days. He hates getting his hair cut. More than getting his hair cut, he hates waiting at the salon to get his hair cut, but won’t call ahead for an appointment. Your best bet will be to call and schedule an appointment for a Sunday afternoon around 3:30/4. Go to a late lunch where he can have a couple of drinks. Then he won’t care as much that you’re taking him to get his hair cut. And then he won’t have to wait. Trust me, waiting with him is not fun. You do not want to wait. **make the appointment**

 

Game Day Saturdays. This is a big one. Do not expect communication. Period. He will text you. Just expect that he will not. Your life (and your relationship) will be better for it.

 

Do some research and find little hole in the wall bars with good music. That’s his element. He loves places like that.

 

Do not expect a lot of affection. He shows love in different ways than you’re probably used to. Usually it’s something cute like a silly nickname. If he calls you a silly nickname, that’s the equivalent of him kissing you. Take it as such. He won’t kiss a lot. He just doesn’t. And he doesn’t really do PDA. Don’t even try it. I mean, you can kiss him on the cheek, or even lean in for a kiss if the moment is right- but don’t push it. It will push him away.

 

Love him with everything that you have. Don’t worry about what the books say. Don’t play games. Just love that man. Defend him, when necessary. ALWAYS remember that you are a team. It is the two of you against whatever problems arise- never against each other. He needs your love and support. Even if you don’t agree with him- support him. He needs that. Encourage him. Compliment him. And just love the hell out of him. Do more than I did. Don’t do anything to give him any reason to let you go. Don’t let him go. Fight for him, but don’t fight with him. Fighting with him is never worth it. Remember- never against each other.

 

Keep in mind, this man holds a place in my heart that no one else could ever fill. I just wasn’t the right girl for him. I still want his happiness above all else. Maybe you won’t make the same mistakes that I did. Don’t hurt him. Just love him. Always love him.

 

The Ex

fake it til you make it

she just woke up one morning and decided she didn't want to feel that way anymore....

well, that all sounds easy enough, right? i mean, how do you just *change* how you feel? i don't think this is about changing how you feel about how you feel about someone or something, but more so about how you let those feelings affect your life.

the sir and i ended our relationship on the 8th of september. for another handful of weeks we were off and on, back and forth. while the relationship, for the most part, had been phenomenal- the breakup was a difficult one. the weeks following the breakup were worse. the constant checking of my phone to see if he had called or text. having to actually delete his number so that i wouldn't call or text him. we would each say hurtful things. hateful things. things that we knew would really hit the other hard. then we would each act as though we didn't care, only to apologize hours later with an "i love you". it wasn't healthy. but we did love one another. we still do. i know that i can speak for myself only, but i will always love that man for all of the good that is within him. and there really is so much good. i used to tell people "i just wish that everyone could have someone look at them the way i look at 'the sir'", and i meant that. everyone deserves that. including myself. i deserve that, as well. sometimes he would look at me and i knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was the man i was going to spend the rest of my life with. that nothing in this world could change my love for him. and i was right about parts of that. we definitely have that "for better or worse" thing down. because we showed each other our "worse". both of us did. and while i loved him through it, sometimes love isn't enough. i am well-versed in love not being enough to sustain a relationship.

we wanted different things, ultimately. that's what i tell people. and it really is true. that's the biggest issue. our "fundamental flaw" as he puts it. he has two vices- women and a bottle. i was an emotional rollercoaster (and trust me, the lows go as low as the highs go high) and i kept things from him and would lie to him to cover up the things i was keeping from him. and we would both try to "fix" ourselves and "fix" one another, but at the end of the day- as much as we loved each other- we really just wanted different things out of life.

so i've cried probably buckets of tears. and its not just the relationship ending. there has been so much going on in my life that i will some day sit down and write about because it's a part of my still evolving testimony. but for now, (because i'm asked daily how the sir is doing or if we're still together) this is what you're getting.

we tried. both of us did. and maybe we didn't try as hard as we could have. we're both stubborn people. extraordinarily stubborn. and prideful. neither of us wants to be the one to back down. ever. and that's difficult when both people in a relationship are that way. we brought that out in one another. but i say ALL of that to say this--- i woke up and decided that i no longer wanted to feel that way. so i didn't.

i made the conscious decision to be happy. i decided to surround myself with other imperfect people who know how ugly THEY are and know how ugly I am and that want to grow with me. people who encourage my walk with Christ. people who will pray for me, but also pray WITH me. people who talk about their faith with me and allow me the freedom to talk about my faith with them.

and while it's difficult to just not feel a certain way... it's not even so much that you don't feel it... you just have to "fake it til you make it", right?

Dear Audrey, June, and Rita...

"Audrey, I won't live another year without you", are the words he uttered from his mouth. The man was so desperate for your love when it came down to losing you that he honestly could not fathom that he could survive 365 more days without you by his side. Yet, when he had your love all to himself, the booze and the pills and the warmth of other women lured him away every time.

Audrey, how do you love a man like that?

 

 

 

When he crawled deep in to Nickajack Cave and had no intention of ever coming out... When Johnny would pass out before shows, after shows... and fall down in a drunken stupor during shows... When you watched him kill himself slowly for years and put up with the outbursts and insanity... Tell me, June- what made you decide that you could love that man through it all?

June, how do you save a man like that?

 

 

 

 

He finally put that bottle down just as you had asked him to for years. Of course, by the time he did that, you had no idea who sober Kris was. You were living with a stranger and it was confusing because- it's what you wanted, right? You wanted his eyes more clear... you received exactly what you had wished and hoped for. But it wasn't at all what you had hoped for. You knew things would never be the same even though you loved him with your whole heart.

 

You have to tell me, Rita- how do you let go of a man like that?

 

 



 

If I could sit these three down, I know they'd understand. They could tell me what to do. I'm no Audrey or June or Rita. I'm not as strong. Not nearly as sturdy. But maybe if I had spoken to Audrey, she could have told me what not to do. If I could have lunch with June, she could have helped me to be more firm and pointed me down the path of what I should do. And to sit down with Rita and have her tell me where to go from here- how to rebuild with dignity and still love that man, but maintain the ability to just walk away- I think that's what I could use more than anything.

"Like a bird on a wire

Like a drunk midnight choir

I have tried in my way to be free."

 



Praising Him in the storm/ I will wait

If you know me well, you know that I used to attend church camp during the summer. Honeycreek QUICKLY became my favorite place on Earth, and it's still a place that I hold very close to my heart. It's where I first really came to know God. I had been in church my entire life, but that 15th summer of my life was a big one. However, this post in particular will not be about my love for "the creek".... just about how certain things just stick with us and we pull from them when we need to.

I'm in a bad place in my life right now. A really, really dark, negative place. I'm the happy girl. The funny girl. I'm not allowed to be depressed. I'm not supposed to have the thoughts that I've had lately. I think the persona that I've created for myself (quite possibly as a defense mechanism to keep people from getting too close) makes being "down" even more difficult because people just don't expect that out of me. I'm expected to always be "on". To always have a joke. And sometimes (this past week, for example) I just don't have a lot of jokes.

A good friend whom I consider a "life twin" (we've been through so, so many similar things so she just "gets me") sent me the song "Praise You in This Storm" this morning. It was funny, because it's one of my go-to songs when things are going wrong; when the storm comes rolling in.

 

 

But throughout the day, as in so many other times in my life, another song kept coming to mind. And the only other people that I know of who even know this song are other kids who went to Honey Creek. The lyrics cause me to hit my knees every time. The kind of song that I just can't help but be affected by. The kind that puts me in tears and makes me look deep inside myself.  They're such simple lyrics, but the message is essentially the same- praising Him in the storm, waiting on the Lord. So I sing it over and over... and maybe this blog post is just for me. There's something so therapeutic for me about the rhythm of the keyboard clicking beneath my fingers. Almost like a song... the keyboard is my instrument. This is my song. (I'm not a great song writer. I ramble.) But maybe no one else needs this like I do right now. And, even if no one else reads this post, I had to write it.

 

So. The lyrics. The song.

 





As the years of my life pass me by, pass me by

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord.

 

When the day turns to night and I pray to see the light

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord.

 

Through the calm, through the fears. Through the laughter and the tears

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord.

 

Feeling sure or laced with doubt, Going with or without

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord

 

For as long as I am living

Just as sure as time goes on

On and on

I'm holdin' on....

 

I'm holdin' on.....

I know. It's simple. I told you it was. But there's something about that song that just hits me deep.

I know that I'll get through this. I know that it's one of those things where I'm gonna come out of this thing with some seriously bruised knees from hitting them so hard in prayer. But, I WILL come out of this. I don't know how. And at this particular moment, I don't see a silver lining, I don't see a light at the end of the tunnel... but I have faith that it's there. And as Christians, isn't that the foundation of everything we believe in? Faith? Well- when faith is the only thing you have left, it sure helps to lean on it. Maybe that's God's plan all along. To give me no choice but to lean on Him.

He's a smart man, that God.

Engagement Chicken

I have been on both sides of the engagement fence. I've been in a relationship with a man for more than 4 years who swore that he would spend the rest of his life with me, but would never marry me. (he did, eventually... and we were divorced before our second wedding anniversary) I've also been dating someone for a month when he popped the question (ring and all) and I said "yes" because I felt like I had to (oh, the pressure!).... within another month, that relationship was also over. I've gone on dates with guys who have ZERO interest in marriage, and I've also dated men who seem to obsess over it more than women. One guy (affectionately referred to in my favorite circle of friends as "Stalker Barry") actually wrote me an 8 page letter telling me how his "biological clock is ticking". We were around 23 at the time. We had gone on just a handful of dates. I ran.

So now I'm dating a guy. A pretty awesome guy. People call it a long-distance relationship, but I swear I spend more time at his house than my own, and we see each other usually Friday night through Monday morning, so we get our fill of each other, no doubt. It's only hard usually Thursday night. Because by the time I've been away from him for a few days, I start to miss him. I miss my buddy. But that "missing him" is healthy. It's why we work. Because we have the opportunity to miss each other. Marriage is something that, right now, scares the daylights out of me. Not because I don't love this man. I absolutely do. I, honestly, have never been so happy in a relationship. We test each other and challenge each other and make each other grow. We bring out the best in one another and I think that's what it's all about. It has taken THIS long for us to ease the toddler into our relationship (he's the one I'm most concerned about getting attached to someone. The older two have a daddy that they see and that loves them very much. Bray has Mama. That's it.), but now that the almost 30 year old and the almost 4 year old have spent time with each other, they're getting closer than I imagined. They have a genuine bond and love each other. So, yeah... that makes me think "family" and wonder if there's some sort of permanence here.... but I know that if it's supposed to happen, it will. When we're both ready. It could be 3 months from now (it will not be 3 months from now), it could be 3 years from now. But, we're both happy. And there is no immediate need for either of us to rush into anything.

And then I get on Pinterest. His mother and I are planning this big 30th birthday extravaganza for him and I want it to be amazing. And I see this pin (don't act like you women don't know what I'm talking about) for Engagement Chicken. The story goes, you make this "succulent, juicy chicken" (albeit bland, according to reviews) for your significant other and within weeks, you will have a ring on your finger. Some call it "magic". (Magic... VooDoo... whatever) One obviously desperate woman stated that she had been dating her man for 2 weeks when she made this chicken "just to see what would happen" and that night he said "I love you" for the first time, 6 weeks later he asked her to move in with him, and within 6 months they were engaged. They were to celebrate their first wedding anniversary the week after she posted her comment. Well, congratu-frickin-lations. You two weirdos should be very happy together. I know, that sounds a lot like judgement... and that's because it is. Look- I already acknowledged that I accepted a proposal from a guy who popped the question 4 weeks into dating. But I didn't marry the guy. (that doesn't make it okay... it's just what I tell myself to make ME feel like less of a bad person... if I felt like a bad person at all. which I don't. Because we had no business getting married. Period. I just don't like pressure.) But I can assure you, I don't need a voodoo chicken to get a guy to want to marry me!!! (remember- Stalker Barry?!)

Some argue that the reason that this Engagement Chicken (and the subsequent Hook-Him Apple Pie) works is because it shows your man that you care. You're taking the time to make the man a chicken. Just like Mama would have done. Let me tell you what I do to show the Sir that I care. I clean his apartment. I do his laundry. I pick up his dry cleaning. I make him laugh. I don't get bent out of shape over stupid little things (most of the time). I treat him the way that he deserves to be treated every single day. Not when I decide that I deserve (or just plain want) a ring. I don't cook dinner for him and expect ANYTHING from it other than a satisfied, full man. IF the Sir and I tie the knot (3 months or 3 years from now) PUH-LEEEEEZE rest assured that it's because I am awesome and I picked an equally awesome man, and not due to the consumption of a lemon-stuffed marry me chicken.

Besides, if I really wanted to make that man of mine happy, I'd throw a Stauffer's lasagna in the oven. Dat baby loves him a frozen lasagna. ;)




P.S. If you're intrigued, you can find the Engagement Chicken recipe here:
http://www.glamour.com/magazine/2006/07/engagement-chicken
and the Hook Him Apple Pie here:
http://www.glamour.com/magazine/2006/07/hook-him-apple-pie
(if the pie didn't have such a horrible name, I might have made it.... I do love an apple pie. Way to ruin it, wedding-hungry bias)

And if you make either of them, I still wanna know if it worked for you. If it took 17 weeks for him to propose- it wasn't the chicken. Geniuses.

guilt.

for Lent I wanted to give up guilt. it's something that i think we all deal with on a daily basis. guilt for not being a good enough friend. guilt for my children being from a broken home. guilt for maybe not handling certain things the way i should have in the past. but i'm trying to let go. i'm trying to just accept that things are what they are and even if things are my fault (and a lot of them are) just moving forward and not harboring on the coulda/shoulda/wouldas.

but there's one thing that i just can't let go of. and it's something that i've never told anyone. it's something that not even my best friends in this world knows and it breaks me down on a regular basis. i guess i just feel like i have to write about it. i don't want to TALK about it, because if i do i'll just cry. hell, i've been bawling for hours now over it and can barely see to type. but i don't let a lot of people see me like this. i just don't. regardless, here it goes.

Nana had COPD. her lungs were hardened and it was difficult for her to breathe. i knew that. i had known for a long time. i didn't know exactly how bad it was, but i knew that she used a breathing machine at night. she just wasn't one to tell a whole lot about her problems. i think she told me and my aunt jackie faye more than she told anyone, and even i didn't know just how bad things were. i think part of it, too, was me not wanting to know. we had an agreement that she would live to be 103... then when i became afraid that i would still not be ready to go by the time she turned 103, i decided that she had to live until i was 103. if i didn't know how bad it was, i couldn't acknowledge that losing her was such a real possibility. honestly, i swear, i always thought we would go together.that's what i wanted. i have never needed a person in this world the way that i need her, and i could not imagine that there would ever come a day that she would cease to exist and i would be left here.

but she was fine. christmas came and she was fine. we did the usual riding around looking at christmas lights together and driving down jerry jones to see the peanuts gang in front of that house with snoopy on the roof.... she was fine. then braydon got sick. typical december in south georgia stuff. the weather changed so much that his little immune system was no match for it. he was coughing terribly. i took him to his pediatrician and was giving him medicine, but i had also just moved into my apartment a couple of weeks before. i still had so much unpacking to do and i was now living across the street from Nana (walking distance!!) so she came over every single morning to get him in his stroller and take him to her house for the day so I could get things done. but he was sick. i knew he was sick. and i knew that Nana wasn't well. i knew about the COPD. i knew. and i was selfish because i just wanted to get the house unpacked. i let her take him knowing that he could make her sick. i didn't think about it like that at the time, but i had to know it in the back of my mind. there's no way i didn't. but, in typical selfish kayla fashion, i did what was best for me. i thought about myself. within days Nana was sick. January 1st she couldn't come over for black eye peas and ham and collards. i cooked and took them to her. but she wasn't feeling up to coming over. the next day was her birthday. i told her i would bake her a cake as soon as she felt up to eating it. the day after that, she was in the hospital. she was going to be fine. she was only 73. 73 and a day. i made the decision to let them intubate her, because that was supposed to let her lungs rest so her body could heal. so she could come home. i told them to go ahead and do it and i would be on my way back up to the hospital. i had been getting ready for church because she told me the night before to go ahead and go without her. i told her we would all be praying for her. i should have told them to wait. i should have told them that they could do it after i got there. but they said that she had a really rough night the night before and i just wanted to let her rest. i thought i was doing the right thing. they put her to sleep and put the tube in and she never woke back up. she knew i was there because her heart rate would go up every time she heard my voice. once, when i told her i was leaving, she started moving and her heart rate shot up dramatically. i stayed. i cried and i told her that if she had to go, it was okay. i told her that i would be okay. i lied. i made her sick. i let my baby go over there, knowing he was sick and knowing that it could potentially make her sick. i didn't know it was going to do all of that. i didn't think for a second that it would kill her. all my life, she took care of me. i was her favorite person in this world. i know that. i was the reason for almost every thing that she did for close to 30 years. she loved me like no one on this earth ever has or ever will again. and i let her get sick. i let them put her to sleep without telling her goodbye. but i didn't know she wasn't going to wake back up. i thought it would just be a few days and she would be coming home. the last thing i said to her before i left for the night, the saturday night before they intubated her was "you know that i love you more than anything else in this world, right?" and she said "i know". i know that she knew that. but i was always so selfish. and if i hadn't been, she would still be here.

and today is just one of those days that i absolutely hate myself because i'm scared and i feel alone and i just need her, and she's not here and it's my fault. but even me needing her like this is selfish. i just can't make this guilt go away.

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.

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?

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.

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. 

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. 

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.

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.

... 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

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

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. ;)