A lot of people think I don't filter my life (online) I do try very hard to keep things as authentic as possible -- I don't like "pretending" or "glossing" and I want to document our lives as honestly as possible. I don't see the point in staging perfected photos or excluding details that aren't 100% rosy -- they are our story, all the million and one moments that happen, good/bad/whatever. 

But there are some things I keep to myself; my usual rule of thumb is to not share anything I wouldn't feel comfortable talking about with a friend or coworker. I don't talk about "naughty" things here, and I don't like to discuss my personal beliefs (too heavily, although I am guilty of getting caught up in the heat of the moment from time to time) -- I do try to censor out things that might be embarrassing for the kids later down the road, and I don't really talk about Justin in much detail (he's not one for living a socially interactive lifestyle) -- and as a result, I don't talk about the fighting we do, which isn't often, but sure is intense when it does happen. 

And I'm really only posting this right now to remind myself later on that we did fight (duh!) -- we were ugly and mean and things were not always rosy. We pushed and pulled and threw our hands up in the air. But, obviously, we didn't give up. We kept our vows and found a way to push onward. 

Marriage is hard, y'all. 

But I married my soul mate, my best friend -- and while we know each other too well (and use that knowledge to cut to the quick in the heat of battle!) -- we love each other; stupid, ridiculous, crushing amounts. I love my husband, the father of my children, the hands I love to hold and the heart that matches mine. There will be more fighting, more harsh words, more tears. It's part of the deal: marriage, not for the faint of heart. 

My only hope is that we look back on this time in our marriage and remind ourselves of just how close we were to the edge. I hope we can remember the way it felt, the fear we both had -- and I hope we learn, together, the best way to fix our broken pieces. 

"...and I am young,  yes, but what I have learned is that love, the beauty of it, the joy of it, and yes, even the pain of it, is the most incredible gift to give and to receive as a human being. And we deserve to experience love fully, equally, without shame and without compromise.
There are too many kids out there suffering from bullying, rejection, or simply being mistreated for who they are.
Too many dropouts.
Too much abuse.
Too many homeless and
Too many suicides.
You can change that..."

Just a Friendly Reminder

Human is human.
Equal is equal.
Love is love.

The sooner we put aside all of the things we use to "define" ourselves into separate groups, the sooner we can come together as human beings and just exist in this world.

Why can't we have love for our fellow men and women, without labels or judgment or damnation?

Why can't we all have our own opinions, different as they will be, and still just get along. I don't agree you with. I don't believe as you do.

That's okay, the world still keeps spinning.

Why do we insist on spending so much time fighting each other all in the name of defending our opinions or beliefs? It's exhausting - to me, it'd be so much easier just to love one another. Or at the very least, to respect one another enough to not stand in judgment of one another.

Love is love is love.

And who could stand to deny another person of love?

Not me.

{via}

RE: THIS

Monumental

If you don't agree, then just stop reading now. If you're not on the same page as me when it comes to human rights, I don't understand you, but I'm not going to judge you. To each their own (even if I think your own is so very wrong...)

Today was...monumental. Amazing. Such a seemingly small step, but I hope it will be an enormous leap forward. I dream that 50 years from now all this debate surrounding same-sex marriage will seem as innocuous as interracial marriage. I dream that my children can grow up feeling safe in the knowledge that they can fall in love and get married and raise families without ever having to think of the sanctity of their marriage being questioned or challenged by our government. I dream of family and friends getting married --maybe even one day in sweet Virginia-- to the loves of their lives regardless of gender. I dream of acceptance, not tolerance. There is nothing to be tolerated. Full acceptance and love for our fellow human beings; being decent and kind and respectful and, above all, equal. 

In my mind, it seems like such a simple idea -- the notion that we shouldn't judge one another, that we should all be able to coexist in spite of our differences, in fact, because of our differences. My heart just wants to burst open and fill the world with love. Why can't we all just love each other? It may seem like a hippie thing to say, something childish or cowardly. I just want love. I want to witness love. Full, abundant, ceaseless, meaningful, equal love. 

A Birthday Post Turned Prop8 Rant

Yesterday was my sweet fella's 26th birthday, and I feel like celebrating my husband's birthday (and that feeling of happiness) coincided with other feelings (like guilt, rage, sadness) with all the hullabaloo surrounding Prop8. I hate to take his birthday post and turn it into a rant, so I'm only going to say this: EQUALITY. 

Be it marriage equality, race equality, sex equality - whatever. This country is supposed to be the land of the free, home of the brave, equal and united. Instead, we are torn and spend our days bickering at each other from our "high horses" about issues that shouldn't even be relevant in 2013. 

I am so lucky that I was in a position to fall in love and choose to get married without worrying whether or not my marriage would be legally recognized by my home state (or nation for that matter). It just so happens that I am a heterosexual woman, so I've never had to deal first-hand with the issues that the LGBT community face, BUT I could have just as easily been born a homosexual woman. And I'm sensitive enough (and decent enough) to know that I have no right in the world to deny another human being basic rights. 

I understand same-sex marriages goes against what most Christian people believe, but what I don't understand is how or why Christian people think they have the right to push their beliefs on other people. I don't like eating onions, but I'm not going to tell everyone else they have no right to eat onions just because I don't. The logic of those that use religion to fight against same-sex marriages is completely lost on me; I don't understand and honestly, it breaks my heart to think that these are the people standing firmly in the way of my family and friend's potential happiness. Good, loving, accepting, forgiving, non-judgmental Christian people. 

Okay, so this did turn into a rant (sorry, husband!) - my point to all of this was I love my husband and I'm happy to celebrate another year of life with him as my husband and I want everyone (man or woman) to be able to say the same thing someday about their own husband. 

Happy 26th Birthday, babe!

{bloglove}

I've said it before on here, but it bears repeating again: I love the power of connection the world wide web has provided us with.

I love that I am able to relate to so many people in so many cities, states and countries around the world. I've found such a humbling peace to see mirrors of myself in other women (and men) out there. I have this undeniable sense that I'm not alone, that the things I'm going through are unique to me, yes, but not unique to the problems so many of us face. I am reminded daily that I'm one of billions, and yet I couldn't feel more at peace with the knowledge.

So many people out there have blogs or are starting blogs these days; it's such a popular thing to do, I think some people look at is as a "passing fad" and brush it off as useless or a waste of time. To me, blogging feels incredibly natural. Sometimes I find myself running out of material - when that happens, I turn to my heart and my head. What am I feeling today? What am I thinking about? It can be very deep and emotional things or pure fluff. And that's the beauty of it.

I'm grateful for my blog. It keeps me sane and helps to remind me of all the little moments I forget about from time to time. We're constantly told as children to write our own stories, be the master of our own destinies. What better way to document our journey than with a blog? It offers an open platform to reach the masses, the opportunity to connect with corners of the world never reachable before, and it allows us to self-reflect and grow.

Blogs may seem like pure egotistical nonsense, but they are so much more than that. They are windows to the world. They give a voice to every face in the crowd. They are instant memory-keepers and online diaries. Who could ever put down such a powerful thing?

Be proud of your blog. Be proud of what you say and how you share yourself. Don't let the masses bring you down. Instead, reach out to them and open your hearts to the millions of stories being shared online every day. Don't get in a rut of only visiting the same blogs over and over again; get out there and explore this massive online universe.

And don't be afraid to tell your story. No one will ever know the thoughts in your head, the emotions you feel if you don't share them. Love your blog, protect and support yourself, and keep your chin up. We're all in this together, as evidenced by all the millions of blogs out there. I, for one, applaud all of you for being so bold. I hope to share with you in your journey for years to come.

You can rest assured, I'll be right here at home, sharing mine.

{I pledge allegiance to this blog...}

oh snap!

{Stolen from a good buddy on Facebook, too funny and hopefully eye-opening not to share! LOVE IS LOVE, people!}

On her radio show, Dr Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 {Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination}, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:


"Dear Dr. Laura: Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination .... End of debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 {Both thy bondmen, and thy bondmaids, which thou shalt have, shall be of the heathen that are round about you; of them shall ye buy bondmen and bondmaids.} states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7 {And if a man sell his daughter to be a maidservant, she shall not go out as the menservants do.} In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of Menstrual uncleanliness - Lev15: 19-24. {“‘When a woman has her regular flow of blood, the impurity of her monthly period will last seven days, and anyone who touches her will be unclean till evening. Anything she lies on during her period will be unclean, and anything she sits on will be unclean.Whoever touches her bed must wash his clothes and bathe with water, and he will be unclean till evening.Whoever touches anything she sits on must wash his clothes and bathe with water, and he will be unclean till evening. Whether it is the bed or anything she was sitting on, when anyone touches it, he will be unclean till evening. If a man lies with her and her monthly flow touches him, he will be unclean for seven days; any bed he lies on will be unclean."} The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. {But his inwards and his legs shall he wash in water: and the priest shall burn all on the altar, to be a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the LORD.} The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 {Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you an holy day, a sabbath of rest to the LORD: whosoever doeth work therein shall be put to death.} clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination, Lev. 11:10 {And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you:}, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 {Or crookbackt, or a dwarf, or that hath a blemish in his eye, or be scurvy, or scabbed, or hath his stones broken;} states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. {Ye shall not round the corners of your heads, neither shalt thou mar the corners of thy beard.} How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 {The rabbit, though it chews the cud, does not have a split hoof; it is unclean for you. And the pig, though it has a split hoof completely divided, does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you. You must not eat their meat or touch their carcasses; they are unclean for you.} that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 {Ye shall keep my statutes. Thou shalt not let thy cattle gender with a diverse kind: thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed: neither shall a garment mingled of linen and woollen come upon thee.} by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. {Now the son of an Israelite mother and an Egyptian father went out among the Israelites, and a fight broke out in the camp between him and an Israelite. The son of the Israelite woman blasphemed the Name with a curse; so they brought him to Moses. (His mother’s name was Shelomith, the daughter of Dibri the Danite.) They put him in custody until the will of the LORD should be made clear to them.Then the LORD said to Moses: “Take the blasphemer outside the camp. All those who heard him are to lay their hands on his head, and the entire assembly is to stone him. Say to the Israelites: ‘If anyone curses his God, he will be held responsible; anyone who blasphemes the name of the LORD must be put to death. The entire assembly must stone him. Whether an alien or native-born, when he blasphemes the Name, he must be put to death.} Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14) {And if a man take a wife and her mother, it is wickedness: they shall be burnt with fire, both he and they; that there be no wickedness among you.}

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging."

Your adoring fan, James M Kauffman, Ed.D. Professor Emeritus, Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education University of Virginia.

{PS I think this is hilarious and true and a very informative way to tackle this highly sensitive subject. People try to interpret the bible as "black and white" when dealing with homosexuality, but it seems many other parts are left open for more modern interpretations. I think it's time those people using the bible as a pegleg to stand on in regards to this issue took another look. Find a different reason to be opposed to homosexuality if you wish, but don't bother using the good book as your crutch anymore with me. I won't hear it - not that I ever really heard it before.}

{PPS I used the King James interpretation when I could...because my Jesus talks with an Olde English accent and flies the colors of his true lady MM from his walking stick, just like any good knight would Word!}

{PPPS I'm doubly proud the man who wrote this letter is from VA!}

don't let the blogging blues get you down

There have been many times over the past few years where I feel myself losing steam with this whole blogging scenario. I start having all these unimportant and irrational thoughts.

"No one reads my blog - why bother keeping it?"
"Do people really care about this sort of thing?"
"I'm so boring."
"I'm not as good as other, bigger, better bloggers."

It's an endless, mind-chattering cycle of useless self-conversations. Who cares if no one reads my blog? Who cares if I'm not very funny or entertaining? Who cares if I have a small following - or no following at all? Why am I basing my happiness and success rate on the interaction I have with others? Shouldn't this blog be about me and what I want and how I feel?

And the answer is, DUH! YES!

There have been so many times I've gone back through my archives just to read up on the daily life stuff that happened two years ago. There's a 101 little moments I forget about in the day-to-day shuffle of life; this blog helps me remember. It makes me smile. It documents all these magical moments in my life, with my husband, with my children, with my friends - moments I never want to forget. And I don't have to, all thanks to this little blog of mine.

I can assure the feeling I get inside, all warm and fuzzy and wonderful, is 100x better than any feeling I get when a post receives a bunch of hits or comments. Don't get me wrong, I love my readers and those who feel inclined enough to comment on my posts (I honestly try to respond to every single comment, promise!) -- thank you, to those who come here and read and feel a connection to me. I feel very connected to all of you. But I can't rely on you to make me want this blog, to make me appreciate this space. I have to do that all on my own, with or without readers.

My advice to you: don't let the hoopla and hustle of the ever-changing blog world get you down. Write down your little moments, no matter how boring or mundane they seem at the time. I promise you, some things you will forget. And as long as you put them out there, you'll always have a virtual reminder of a time "way back when". You'll never regret those moments; and if you do regret them, you'll always have a way of reminding yourself not to get to that place again.

Thank you blog, for being my little recorded slice of life.

push presents, baby

I am not the kind of woman that demands or expects the whole idea of a "push present", although I think it is a sweet sentiment in an odd little way. I don't feel like I need to get lavish gifts (or any gifts, for that matter) for having this sweet baby. She is the gift, the best thing about this entire journey - I can't imagine trying to eclipse her with some monetary thing.

Still, if her dear old Dad (or anyone else who loves me) wanted to splurge on some push presents, I wouldn't totally object. The spoiled, selfish side of me has no trouble saying "heck yes I deserve something!", though honestly I think it's probably more along the lines of a medal than a pair of cute shoes. But I digress. Here are some items I wouldn't scoff at if they turned up somewhere post-pushing.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

 1 - I love Toms, and I really want my own pair. I found a pair of similar-looking Old Navy crochet shoes at a second hand store last summer, and I've worn them out! Momma needs a new pair...

2 - I love hand-stamped jewelry (specifically Lisa Leonard designs), but I'd be happy with any cute piece showcasing my sweet babes.

3 - Rhealen is totally screwing up my summer lake plans, but I still intend to find some time to park my behind on a boat on the lake (maybe even swim?!?!). I definitely need a new swimsuit - I've been wearing the same one now for close to five years. Wow, I feel embarassed to even admit that.

4 - I'm still pining over this Proenza Schouler wallet, same as I have been for over a year now. It's just so damned pretty!

If you love me, you can send me any (or all) of the goodies above. I promise to love you back - and maybe even name the next baby after you!

(Just kidding, honey, I know we're not having any more babies! Or are we?)

eek! so cute!

Organic Teething Wood Toy from Little Alouette

I just bought Nugget this adorable teether & I couldn't be more excited about it - I love Amy's work (almost as much as I love her blog) and I've loved this particular little piece for what feels like two years!

Now, after spending way too much time staring at it on her etsy page, I am finally the proud owner of one. I'll be frantically checking the mail 'til this little sweetheart arrives. I'm already thinking about maybe buying another one so I'll have a pair of "birdie teethers"! They're so stinking cute, who could blame me?

I let myself feel this way, and I shouldn't

Sometimes I'm a very ugly person.

And I don't mean bad-breath, messy-hair, zit-face kind of ugly. I mean, ugly from the inside. My beauty is not even skin deep sometimes.

I read things, hear things - bad things that people are going through or thinking about or dealing with. And I feel a twinge of happiness for their struggles. I think to myself, "serves them right". If they've offended me or upset me or I know some dirty secret they try to keep to themselves - I let myself feel better when they begin to feel worse.

And that's ugly. Rotten, horrible, disgusting. I am not that kind of person - or at least that's what I tell myself 99% of the time. But apparently, sometimes I am that person. Sometimes I am the mean girl, the bitch. Sometimes I let myself become a nasty, rude, self-indulgent, high and mighty person.

I've got to keep better tabs on myself. I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I plan to never feel this way again - I'm sure I will. We all do, we all have at some point in our lives. But it's my personal goal to go above and beyond myself when I get low like this. I want to "x" out these bad thoughts and feelings with 100 better, happier feelings. I want to start dwelling on the positive in my life and in other people's lives.

I don't want to be that kind of person that is there for my friends when they're going through awful, bad, down on their luck times, and then disappears when they're back to normal. I want to be there all the time, celebrating the good without feelings of jealousy or self-pity. I want to be there during crisis, supporting them and lending a helping hand without judgment. I don't want to build myself up by tearing someone else down.

It feels so juvenile to be having this conversation with myself. But I'm only human. And before I go back to being my seventh-grade self, I want to stop right now. I want to be a better person. And I will, so help me god.

boots

They're not combat boots. There's not anything extra special about these boots. They are merely the boots of the man I love, the man who goes to work every day for our family to provide for us. He's strong. He's dependable. Just like his boots. The wear of his work shows on his body. Just like his boots. He's strong up front and soft in the middle. Just like his boots. I love these boots. I love everything they stand for and everything they mean for our family. I'm proud of these boots, and I'm extra proud of the man who wears them...

I never read that magazine anyway

As one-half of an "overweight" couple, I would hate to think there are really people out there in the world who get grossed out when we kiss in public.

But Marie Claire seems to have a writer who is exactly that kind of person.

I can't believe they even thought to hit publish on this story; this ridiculous, mean, hurtful, wayward story. And I really hate to think of some young girl (or guy) struggling with body issues and what they would feel if/when they came across an article like this.

We are all beautiful, in our own special way. It is always important to be healthy, I absolutely agree - but loving ourselves for who we are and who we will never be is part of the healthy, loving process.

Shame on you, Marie Claire.

one more voice for LB

This is my blog, my corner of the world to share my stories - but today isn't about me. Today is about LB and the #dofunstuff project. Today is about something bigger than myself.

And so I won't waste my words - I'll simply say do something for someone else today, and do something now. Go to Pacing the Panic Room for more information. And *congratulations* to Ryan for making this dream a beautiful reality, I know LB is and forever will be very proud of you.

college grad (almost)

Tomorrow (Friday) I go back to college. And I'm equal parts excited, equal parts bummed.

I have classes almost every Friday from 4pm-9pm and Saturday 9am-4pm starting from tomorrow until December 2011. In a way that's really awesome, because it's fast track and I'll have my degree done in just a little over a year. On the other hand, it totally sucks because that ruins my weekend almost completely, and I won't get to spend much quality time with my little family. The good and the bad. The up and the down.

But I'm doing this for my family and for my daughter and for myself and for all the right reasons. My head and my heart are in the right place, so the only thing I can do is make the best of the time I'm given and put my nose to the grindstone. Come January 2012, I never want to look at the inside of another college until Sidney goes away for school.

So, yeah, back to college I go. Hi-ho. Hi-ho.

#dofunstuff

Hopefully by now you've heard of Ryan Marshall's blog Pacing the Panic Room - and if you haven't, then you need to go there now and read. It's amazing. He's amazing (you may remember the letter I wrote to him awhile back) and he's doing amazing things now. For his family and for the world.

I've been using my voice on Twitter the best I can to help him promote this amazing project, trying to help catch the attention of The Ellen Show, so that he can use her show as a platform to help raise awareness for SMS and to showcase the ridiculously awesome charity album he's put together. I've even tried reaching out to bigger bloggers, better bloggers with greater audiences - every day I hope to get through to the people who follow me on Twitter (I'm up to almost 400 followers now, and for once, I feel like I have a little sway in helping the earth move in the direction I choose).

And I'm not the only one. There are dozens, hundreds, (I hope) thousands of us out there supporting Ryan and his family and this album and research for SMS. It's something I've never dealt with firsthand, something I've never seen or even heard about in my personal, day-to-day life. But that's part of the beauty of this online community, this network of bloggers and Twitter friends. We can lift each other up, support one another and put our voices together as one, in perfect unison, to speak the same words together - to fuel the fire of the one we're supporting.

Ryan is an amazing blogger. I think he's an amazing guy. I hope to meet him, face to face, someday (maybe at Sparklecorn?) and I want to know that when I do meet him, I can proudly say I took part in his crusade. I was a part of this opportunity, this wonderful tweet-bomb to help raise awareness for this cause he cares so dearly about (and is making me care about, too).

What can you do to help? What will you do to help?

Follow Ryan on Twitter (@ThePanicRoom) and follow me on Twitter  (@mommaruthsays) and use the hastag #dofunstuff to any tweets you may send out

musings of a wannabe SAHM

Somedays SidMo does really good at letting me go. I drop her off to the baby-sitter and she's smiling and happy and just a perfect little angel. Somedays she crys and whines and pouts when I go.

And then some mornings, like this morning, she clings to me, crying and begging me not to go. It's hard on mornings like today, when all I want to do is stay home with her and play. I want to be a SAHM so bad sometimes it aches. And I know Justin wishes he could provide that for all of us, but at this point in our lives, it's just not possible. Too many bills, too much going on - we're young and dumb and we're working towards our future.

It's another consequence of having our babe a little too early on in life; she doesn't get the same luxuries other kids do sometimes having older, more stable parents.

But that doesn't mean we love her any less. In fact, I like to think it means we love her more. We're both out there working hard, doing our best to give her everything she deserves. And what we can't provide in material things, we make up for with hugs and kisses and late night play sessions. The three of us piled in bed together, laughing and loving each other - this little family we've made and created and continue to be.

Just the three of us. We can make it if we try.

the school of drive

So last night I had driving school (yada yada  a ticket back in March - I was only going 84 in a 65, oops!)...

And needless to say there couldn't have been a more perfectly horribly wonderful driving school ever. The mix of the class was great: you had the little old man who had to be at least 75 and was caught doing 80 in a 50, but really he could care less about it all. There were two girls sitting directly behind me, even though I moved once and they followed, who were trying out out-impress the other one with their reckless driving stories. The 17-year-old blonde was, like, totally amazed that the 18-year-old brunette had, like, been in driving school, like, three times before, and like, she was just so crazy! Ohmigod! I wish I were being stereotypical here, but trust me, I'm not. There was the four-months pregnant smoker who was pissed at the world and almost got into an altercation with the ex-marine who obviously was from the North, if you know what I mean, and they both dropped more "F" bombs than Samuel L. Jackson during Pulp Fiction. There was the Nascar-loving, Nascar-driving man sitting beside me who treated driving school like it was church - every five seconds he was "uh-uh" and "yessir" and "you got that right". I fully expected him to stand up in the middle of it all and confess his unholy driving sins to the room. Testify! There were the two 16-year-old boys who'd been caught doing something very illegal but would never admit to much - they mostly kept to their greasy hair, acne face, basketball short wearing selfs. Never before had I been in a room with so much diversity, and I've been places people!

Our teacher was a lovely Southern gentlemen who had the most enrapturing drawl about him I'd ever heard before. He looked like Colonel Sanders on a diet, but he was just peachy y'all. Mint juleps and Savannah, GA and Gone With The Wind sweet tea hay-chewing "yes m'am" kind of Southern! I love it! I mean, I'm a proud Southern gal, but this man was Southern.

The class was four hours long and pretty much as awful as driving school can be - some lame AAA videos and boring lectures and a few interesting exercises. I figured we'd all have to confess our sins, but thank god we didn't because Bonnie the School Bus Driver would've spent three hours talking about the time these kids got together and made a human-shield so that this harlot that rode her bus could escape with her boyfriend and SHE got in trouble, can you believe it?!?! True story.

The best part of the entire night came when Mr. Colonel Sanders look-a-like showed us a video, one I was able to find on YouTube thankfully (although the minions on YT say it's fake, but I don't care - fake is funny). We watched the video and then the little old man I mentioned earlier piped up (after not saying a word all night) and said, "DAMN!" The best part of the entire night, ladies and gentlemen.

 

"DAMN!" is right. I think I love driving school now. I take that back, I love all the people out there like me who wind up in driving school.  

sleight of hand

I'm so bummed about my lackluster blogging lately, but honestly folks, I haven't the time. Or the energy. Or the words.

I'm just kind of busy living "in the moment" and the moments are flying by so fast it's hard to keep up.

I'm in love with this picture..can't explain it, I can only stare at it in amazement

I know it'll slow down soon. And when it does, I'll be back full force with lots of stories and pictures and links and tales and love. I have an amazing story about a letter my grand-mother gave me last week; my brain is literally begging me to put it out there for you to read.

But it'll have to wait. The blog can wait. I hope you guys can, too.

a new blog has begun

I'm doing a little side project blog, just to have - just to play with and be fun with and share gruesome stories with the rest of you birthing ladies.

My Birth Horror Story - first post up by me, of course!

If you'd like to share your funny, your gross, your silly, or even your sweet story of child-birth with me, or to tell me a tale of a birthing freak out you witnessed, please email me at hearmybirthstory@gmail.com - THANKS!

And spread the word, if you will please - Moms need to unite! Let's share our tales of disgust and woe, the parts of birth that we leave out when we talk about birthing our children. I want to get some of your stories up, so email me - let's talk about the guts and the gore.

Because like the tagline says, we couldn't make this sh*t up!