Goodbye OCD! (for now....)

As I sit here feeding my 3 month old little princess, I look around at house that looks like a hurricane came through.  I'm realizing something that I have learned in the past 3 months. Despite my OCD's... Life must go on.


I like things to have a place & unless they're being used, I prefer for these things to be in their place. My first lesson of motherhood is sometimes you just have to, as Elsa would say, let it go. I have to say, in the best possible way, that shit is hard! It truly defies an instinct!

Sometimes I bring a load of laundry from my room (upstairs) to be done (in the basement). This may as well be 3 and a half miles away! I have a basket of laundry sitting next to me as I type.

There is also the nightmare that is my guest bedroom. It's where I store things that I never seem to get around to. I have about 37 ongoing "projects" in there. Also, spiderwebs. It is where things go to die... You get it.

The day is a success if I get the dish washer unloaded and re loaded! What the hell did women do before these wonderful life changing machines?!

I often feel an inner struggle of wanting to be laying next to my actively growing bug while watching her every move vs living in a home that doesn't look like it's been through a natural disaster.

Although only 3 months of her life have passed, THREE MONTHS of her life have passed! That. went. fast! As cliche as it is, and as often as I have heard it, the dishes will still be there. The laundry basket is not going anywhere. And my 3,000 ongoing projects can wait.

The quickly passing moments with my active little babe will not always be there. On a day with no napping, it is hard to imagine, but I'm sure a day will come where I wish I could go back in time and have that napless day with my fussy baby back. So for now dirty dishes and amazing moments it is!

Mommy Hooves

I think it is safe to say, things change a little (or a lot) with your body after having a baby. I assumed this would be the case longggg before ever getting pregnant, but it comes all the way down to my feet! :(  MY FEET! I don't know if it's the extra weight I carried or the inability to reach my feet  throughout pregnancy, but one day I suddenly noticed my feet were NASTAAAY. (Not just nasty.)

I casually mention my dried up prune feet to my sister one day, who is also a new mom. "I have been hydrating, putting lotion on my feet and then socks... But my feet... are starting... to look. like. Mom's." (Sorry mom.) She acts pretty nonchalant and asks to see... I unleash the beasts and she agrees. That is when she tells me, she does not, in fact, have the same problem. I ask her to whip out her prim and proper perfect pedi, since she is a bougie b! Turns out someone was feeling a little over confident with her dry little hooves.  As she pauses for reaction, I burst into laughter.

Being I enjoy natural products, making things, and filling my extra seconds with unnecessary bull... I looked up a few different sugar scrubs on pintererest  (holy grail) and pulled together ingredients that I already had!

MOMMY FEET- SUGAAAH SCRUB
3/4 cup Sugar
1/4 cup Coconut oil
1 tbsp Honey
1 tsp Vanilla extract
15 drops Lavender oil

Directions
Warm coconut oil & honey. Pour in sugar, stir. Pour in vanilla & lavender, stir. Store in an air tight container!

If you're like my sister you'll need me to tell you how to actually apply and use the scrub... But I'm sure you all can figure it out! ;) Enjoy!

New Mama Drama

Since having a baby life has certainly changed. Usually when people tell me my hair looks nice it is because we are working with a little extra grease. "Thank you. Must be that new hair mask." When really I happen to be going on day 3 since its been shampooed. Or when I receive a text, if I answer, it's about 3 days later. Just keeping it suspenseful, obviously. So mysterious.  Usually when I tell a story I forget my point 30 seconds in resulting in a 45 minute tale of nothing as I try to find my way back.  Ask my husband, he is the lucky one who is on the receiving end of my forgetful tangents. On days that I try to wear jeans, the legging gods typically call me home. I'm becoming more and more comfortable folding laundry with a 12 pound babe on my chest (when I remember to actually start the dryer after filling it, that is), or cooking dinner while giving Ringling Brothers Circus a run for their money.

I've  always been a cryer, and by cryer I mean I sob while watching a glade candle commercial type of cryer. Since my little bug was born things have gotten extreme. Embarrassingly extreme. Holy hormones. This could be a topic in itself, so let's just leave it at that.

I have moments of loving my jiggly belly because its growth brought me the most amazing gift ever and I also have moments of sobbing (obviously) to my husband & sister because my hips are too wide to put my old jeans on. I truly truly think that motherhood also comes with a little something called split personality disorder! My prescription being some good ol' java. When I miss a dose, steer clear.

Being a mom has honestly made me a little weird.  I pray during the day that my sweet babe will sleep soundly and then I just watch her sleep on the monitor or creep into her room to watch her chest rise and fall. (Super creep.) When I'm away from her I think about the strangest things. (I.E. I wonder if amy "prescription" is making her poop hurt.... (I have actually had that thought.)) I also say some really odd shit.  "What did her poop look like?"  "Watch her hold her head up! She is so strong!"  "They should make a bottle nipple molded after the mom's nipple. I wonder if that's a thing?"  "Tummy time is so fun!"  (All actual statements!)

With all of the craziness that comes with being a new mama it is still something that I can't get over. The past 11 weeks have flown by.  I don't mind waking up in the middle of the night to fill my babe's tummy.  I don't mind jumping through hoops to make sure my little nugget is comfortable.  I don't mind holding my pee for actual hours when the situation deems necessary. I honestly don't even mind being a little bit tired 86.5% of the day (the other 13.5% are the times that I'm trying to go to sleep or stay asleep & am magically wide awake).  All of these little (but big) moments are so quickly passing and my time with my bug is truly the best time of all. (Such a mom thing to say... But seriously!) 

(An obvious baby photo post...)

.kindness.

This past Thursday I decided to take a late night trip to Walmart for some unnecessary baking gadgets. Fifty dollars later my husband and I walk out of Walmart and begin to head home. At the red light exiting the parking lot, a homeless man approaches our car. Naturally, I locked my door. Or at least that is what came naturally to me.  After locking my door, I hear the Caucasian, five foot five inch (ish) man with a bruised eye and a patch say, "I'm not going to hurt you..." I honestly felt horrible. Although, I do need to do what I need to do to feel safe and secure, I hated that I made this man feel as if I was scared to talk to him. A split second passes, I rolled down my window and responded to his request for a dollar by saying, "I'm sorry, I don't have cash." He said, "thank you and God bless you."

The light then turned green and we drove away. Still, I felt really badly. I had a pit in my stomach and felt a sense of responsibility to make sure this man and his three friends ate on that hot Thursday night. Nearing home, I convinced Larry to turn the car around and we drive back to the homeless hot spot. We pulled up and I asked the men if they would accept food if we went to McDonalds and got them some burgers. Jacob, the self proclaimed leader of the homeless said, "we aren't in the position to turn anything down, ma'am." I told them to stay there and we would be back.

I walk in McDonalds, a total fish out of water as I haven't ordered anything from there in years. I ordered 4 burgers, 2 large fries, 20 nuggets, and the employee threw in some apple pies for free knowing where they were going. I also had a tray of 4 extra large waters.

 I walk out of the "restaurant" with a big bag of food in one arm, and a large tray in the other. On our drive back to the Walmart parking lot I was upset about forgetting napkins, and Lar assured me they wouldn't mind. I also informed Larry that I wanted to get out of the car because I didn't want them to feel that I was scared of them. We get back to Jacob, Felix, "Old man river," and "Snow." I get out of the car and give them the food and tell them to enjoy their night.

Larry and I get home, go on about our night, and go to bed. The next day I wake up and get ready for my day. My friend Stephen came to pick me up and as we went to leave I realized I had no idea where my wallet was. We looked everywhere imaginable and unimaginable for about an hour. We even fished the trash out of the dumpster and checked the garbage I threw out earlier in the day.

.... NOTHING. After a while of searching, the hunt was looking bleak. Finally I say to Stephen, "the McDonald's bag. I think I set it down in the effing McDonald's bag! I am such an idiot! " I wanted to cry.  I tell Larry what is going on as he franticly (from my perspective, calmly from his perspective) tells me to check my accounts and he will check his (because after a long lecture on how I couldn't help every homeless person I see, my wonderful, good hearted husband paid for their food and I had one of his cards in my wallet as well!) Nothing had been withdrawn from any accounts.   

Stephen and I drive back to the homeless hang out. Only one of the men were there, Felix, and he did not speak English well. I decided to leave a note with him to give to his buddy Jacob. Unlikely option, but better than no option. After writing the note and passing along to Felix, Stephen suggested that we just go into Walmart. I knew that I had my wallet after leaving there, but decided to give it a shot.

We head to customer service in Walmart and ask about my teal wallet. The first girl responded by saying, "is dat lyke, grain (green)?" The next lady says, "I think I did see some 'customers' come bring a wallet in." I decided not to get my hopes up, thinking that there was no possible way that it would be mine. 30 seconds (that seemed like a year) later a worker comes out holding my wallet. I began to cry and informed the worker that she was about to get a big ol' bear hug as I simultaneously wrapped my awkward arms around her.

I walked back over to the original employee that said she thought she had seen it and told her the wallet was returned to it's rightful owner. She then informed me that some 'unusual customers' brought it in earlier.  The employee alluded to the fact that the men were homeless.  My guess is that the 'unusual customer' was Jacob.

Every single item was exactly where it belonged in my wallet. It would have been so easy for these men to charge my credit or debit card, but they didn't. They had literally nothing to lose but their morals. In spite of the current situation they are in, they did the right thing. Aside from being ecstatic about getting my wallet back, I was inspired by Jacob & friends and their act of kindness.

Since last Friday I keep checking to see if he is in his hang out so I can thank him, no such luck just yet. I'm sure I'll see him someday soon so I can properly thank him!

 "A kind gesture can 

reach a wound 

that only 

compassion 

can heal."

.love.your.journey.

A couple of weeks ago someone asked me how my husband and I have stayed happy over the past eleven years.

There are the obvious answers, such as communication, which is undoubtedly one of the ingredients to a long lasting relationship. I suppose there is not any one thing that keeps us coming coming back for more after all of this time, but there is one main thing, in my opinion, that sustains our love.

Love your journey.

You've heard it before.  You'll hear it again. It's nothing too original, but it is undeniable.

I think it is so easy with constant accessibility to social media for couples (and individuals) to begin to feel that they are missing out. People are constantly on Instagram or Facebook. They are used to seeing they're friend's trip to Jamaica, or the new Beamer that their cousin just got, or a college friend getting engaged and having a beautiful diamond on her finger.  Let's face it, we are a generation of over sharers (myself VERY included).

The problem I do see with this is, it seems to me that we are always looking through the perfect little lens of what others are willing to share of their lives. Guess what, people most likely aren't going to Instagram a video of them having a financial argument with their spouse and NO ONE'S life is perfect.

Another thought is, when you see a photo of your old gal pal's sparkling, new, engagement ring... just be happy for her. This is a happy time in her life.  This does not necessarily mean every aspect of her life is sparkling, even if it is, just be happy for her journey while still appreciating your own.

A further observation is, to our generation, things=happiness. I sincerely believe that things and stuff is not what makes a relationship beautiful.  We often look from the outside, inward on someone's life and perceive the things that they've acquired as their level of happiness.  It's silly really.   


Okay, social media rant OVER... (hopefully).

Back to loving your journey (maybe).

In my relationship, some of the moments that I hold dearest to my heart are our moments nothingness.  I cherish our moments of gathering up all of our change (pennies included) to split a Dominoes pizza and cinnasticks.  I sincerely adore the times that we have stayed in a hotel that serves breakfast because otherwise we weren't going to have enough money to eat on our way back from a trip. 

Throughout our years together we have gradually worked together to make our lives a little more comfortable.  We are always working toward one goal, and then another, and another.  As a couple, my husband and I are not glamourous.  We don't have a lot of 'stuff' to our names.  What we do have is a journey full of moments.  

The days that I am at school from 9am to 9pm and I come home to a meal on the stove and a husband who waited for me to eat dinner together, I truly appreciate the journey.  I am so grateful to have had a long, hard day to help me see the beauty in those hours I have with him before we go to sleep.

I guess my advice is, it is not as easy to love the hard times, but it is absolutely beneficial.  Love it all. Look for things in your day and in your journey to love.  Be aware. Be grateful. Do your best to be thoughtful of your partner.  Love reaching goals, but also find joy in striving toward those goals together. 

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR JOURNEY. 

'the journey is the destination'
-Dan Eldon

Photos above after moving to Nashville over 5 years ago. When we had no money to go out... these are the things we did. 

        

.new year. new goals.

December 31st seems to get everyone thinking, myself included.  The holidays are just about to wind down.  I have had a solid month of eating poorly and drinking more than normal.  I have had no solid routine for a good 2 weeks. I also had a fourteen hour drive with just myself and my dog to get to think about what a new year means. 

I'm not very big into New Year's Resolutions because I feel like they generally focus on the negative.  So without saying, "I'm too fat, I want to drop a pant size," I'd like to resolve to do some positive things that will overall make me a better me! :)

I'd like to continue to be silly with my husband, and laugh everyday.
I'd like to volunteer once a month as a reminder to myself of all that I have.
I'd like to treat my body the way it deserves to be treated.  I need to keep in mind that I only have one.  It's important to fuel it in the right way, and get enough sleep.  I need to go to the doctor, which I seem to always forget. 
I'd like to be kind to everyone I encounter.  I need to keep in mind that I don't know what is going on in their day, and maybe in a small way I can make a difference. 
I'd like to turn off the tv and open more books.
I'd like to write a letter once a month to someone that I don't get to keep in touch with as much as I'd like to. NOT an email, a letter. 
I'd like to write more songs, bake more cakes, and let more of my creative self out this year. 
I'd like to continue to do well in school and soak up as much knowledge as I possibly can throughout my program.
Lastly, but not absolutely not least, I REALLY want to blog more.  I think it'll be awesome to look back on my thoughts as I grow and learn. 

HAPPY TWENTY-FOUTEEN EVERYONE! 
Let's have a fabulous year! 

.Trust.Your.Gut.

When I first moved away from home to Nashville I was 20 years old. I can not even come close to explaining in words how much I have learned in the past 5 and a half years.... So for now I won't even try. I will, however, try to explain one of my favorite lessons up to this point. TRUST YOUR GUT (all the time)!

For me, moving to Nashville was the hardest and best decision I have ever made. Telling my family that I was dropping out of school was certainly no easy task. Looking back, I honestly don't know what gave me the guts to do it.

So, I get to Nashville, I get a job at the front desk of a pediatric dentist office, which I had experience doing, and I quickly realize that I hate it! They gave every child drugs to calm them down and I saw about 15 children puke in the lobby within my first week there. When one of the other receptionists looked at me and said, "you'll get used to it..." is when I decided to give two weeks notice. I didn't want to get used to that. So, my first job in Nashville, fail. I felt like a total loser. Nine million questions in my head trying to figure out if this is where I'm supposed to be.  Not only did I have to tell my boyfriend, who was beyond understanding but, I hated calling my family and telling them that I quit my first real job, that I actually needed to survive.

A week or so later, I was in downtown Nashville, sitting on the a curb playing my guitar (yes, this is 100% true.. :) when a random lady walks up to me and says, "do you need a job?" What the hell? YES... YES I DO. She gives me the info I need and tells me I can start in two days. This is when I started working in a downtown gift shop. Once again, I hated it. People were rude. I had to work until midnight on some nights, and then walk to my car alone in downtown Nashville. I had to pay to park. I would cry to my mom everyday and ask her what I was doing. She would tell me to be the best gift shop cashier the world had ever seen... which is so cute in retrospect, but not at the time! I made it at this job for about 3 weeks. Once again, I felt that I had failed. Something in me told me, this not where I was meant to be. If I hadn't trusted that, I could be lead cashier at a gift shop right now. Damn!

Onto the next, nannying. I love kids and I loveddddd the little girl that I was able to see grow up for about a year, but it was just a lot. I was with her for more than 60 hours a week, and we had two, one hour outings per week. It was hard because as much as I loved seeing her learn new things everyday, I was there for over 10 hours a day and had no way of meeting anyone my own age. (I did get really good at the ABC's though.) After about a year of nannying, I realized, yet again, I needed to make a change. I moved to Nashville originally for music, and had done nothing. I also had not made 1 new friend. On the day that I gave the mom a month notice for her to find someone else, I took the little girl to gym class. When we were in her class a lady named Sheila, who is now my good friend, made an announcement saying, "we are looking for some people who think they might be good at teaching classes. If you know anyone who might be interested, let us know." Well, if that's not a sign I don't know what is. I didn't feel right doing it right then, so I called the gym when I wasn't on the clock nannying. Ultimately I ended up working there until Larry and I decided on our little traveling gig, and now I currently work there while I'm in school.

Throughout mine and Larry's travels I have worked at a couple if coffee shops and discovered my love for baking. During our travels I decided that I'd like to take this baking thing more seriously and go to school. Which is where I am currently at in this story.

My main point is, you know when you're happy, you know when you're not. At least for me, if I am doing something day in and day out that I don't feel any connection with, it is going to reflect in all aspects of my life. I won't be as good if a wife, or friend, or sister, or daughter.  When I am not happy with something in my life I have a constant unsettling feeling in my stomach. It is the worst.

I guess this is one of my favorite lessons because it will make so much of a difference in your outcome. Sometimes change is not easy, but it is definitely necessary. So, to wrap this up in a pretty little package. TRUST YOUR GUT! If you trust what is inside of you, I am fairly confident you will ultimately end up where you need to be. :)