First off I want to apologize for not posting in a long while. Life. As the boys get bigger I find that I’m more and more busy. I usually write once everyone is asleep and the house is quiet, but I’ve found that I crash myself, sometimes before they fall asleep. And if I’m not crashing I’m getting time with my hubs. 

Anywho something has been on my mind and I know once I write it down I’ll be able to put it out. 

A person whom I thought was close to us ended up mad at us over the stupidest thing, which is fine, people are allowed to have their feelings. I just don’t have to agree with them, or apologize for it. They tried to make a jab at me.  So they said that my husband that he had changed since he met me. Like it was a bad thing. At first it kinda took me aback. You know the more I’ve thought about it, and talked with hubs about it, and prayed about it; they were absolutely right. He has changed since meeting me. I’ve changed since meeting him. And I’m glad that we have. He was 19 and I was 20 when we met. We’ve been together for 12 years, married for 8, and parents for 5. I would hope that we have changed; that we’ve evolved since then. That’s human nature. Could you imagine if we still acted like we were in our early 20’s now? 

The statement about him changing since he’s met me, makes me proud.  If they think his change was for the worse, It shows just how little they knew/know him. I won’t tell his story, I’ll leave that to him, but when I met him, he was headed down a bad path. One that could have ended very badly. And that was a deal breaker for me. (Watch requiem for a dream to know the path) Now look at him. I’m so proud of the man he’s become. Working hard for our family. Loving his boys, being the best father for them. 

Loving me.

 Fighting the world for a future our boys deserve. 

The boy I met many years ago would have never done half the things the man today can do.  That man isn’t anyone’s puppet, is strong, very intelligent, funny as hell, but most of all loving. I cringe at what kind of change they expected him to be. 

Notice I say loving many times. 


The person I met 12 years ago was afraid to have kids because he didn’t think he could love them. The man today wakes and sleeps loving our sons. If that doesn’t show you the type of “change” he has went through then I don’t know what will. That change is why I’m so very much if no even more in love with him. 

Change is a beautiful thing. Everything changes. If you don’t THAT’S when you have problems. With that I leave you this: 


Shooter drill

I don’t know if it’s the sign of the times, or the fact that my hubs was out of town, or the simple fact I suffer from anxiety. But while the boys and I were having dinner in the mall, all I could think about was:

 “damn if a shooter came we are screwed!”

I had originally chose that spot to sit because it was close to where you empty your trays, but once I sat down I realized that was a horrible choice. 

1. We were sitting by the door. There wouldn’t be any time to duck and hide. 

2. If we could get down quick enough we where stuck behind a half wall. 

3. I know this may sound harsh but we were sitting right behind the security guard. 

4. There was only one way out. 

After these thoughts I started having more anxiety. Watching every one coming and going.  I realize this isn’t how one should live their life, and I don’t plan on it, but it did open my eyes. Just like we have a plan in case there is a fire/tornado, I should have a plan just in case some idiot decides to shoot up the mall. It sucks but it’s a reality. 

A few of my homeschool friends have code words for their kids. And if they say a word the kids know to drop to the ground, and be quiet. To listen to their parents no arguments, so they can hopefully get out safely. I think I need to start doing this. And practice it while we are out, just like we would practice a fire drill. 

I would like to think this could never happen where we live. But I’m sure that’s what many of the latest victims thought also. I can’t guarantee this will save our lives either. I don’t know what a shooter is thinking, but it just might. 

What are your thoughts? 

The cloud

I had forgot what it felt like. This; this,  was a little different. The heaviness, the darkness. In the past it was more of a sadness I couldn’t shake. Motivation to do anything was gone. 

I can’t describe this feeling. I didn’t want to exist anymore. I didn’t want to be. What was going on? Let me see if this is a rational thought…

“Honey, do you ever just not want to do life anymore?”

“There are times where I don’t want to do parts of my life. Like work. I would rather be here with you, but life as a whole. I still want to live.” 

Well crap ok I guess that wasn’t a rational thought. I really am in a funk. How did I get here? The tiny part of my brain that is rowing through the fog yells “IT’S MOST LIKELY YOUR HORMONES. FIGHT THROUGH IT!”  The fog clouds over and I can no longer hear it. 

“What’s the matter honey?” My hubs asks. 

“I’m in a bad funk right now. I can’t seem to shake it.” 

“Did something happen today? Did you remember your medicine?”

“Took meds and it was a good day. But right now I feel myself plummeting.”  

“Is there anything I can do for you? Tell me.” 

“I don’t know. I can’t feel. My emotions are gone.” 

He proceeds to stop my sons from climbing on me. He seemed to know I needed space. I have a good hubs. I continue to argue with myself. It’s like having and angel and devil on my shoulders. I wonder if the person who came up with that was depressed? Right now the devil is winning. The fog is so thick that I almost tell my husband to take me to the hospital. I don’t want to do life. I want it to end. But that little rower is fighting. “YOU HAVE TO FIGHT. YOUR KIDS, YOUR HUSBAND NEED YOU!” I wanna die, but I don’t wanna die. I think I need someone to make me not die. I’m fighting. Fighting. I tell my husband I’m in a bad funk again. And let my friend know. Good; people who know me have been told… That’s a good step in the right direction. What else… Ok do what you like. Dance. I love to dance. I’m not ready to dance so I turn on music. Music is good. Music feels right. My baby comes into the room and dances to the music. This makes me happy. The fog is lifting. Both boys are here. I’m dancing. Ok. I’m getting better. My husband comes and checks on me. Tells me how much he loves me. I tell him I’m in a funk, but it’s lifting. Lack of sleep, stress, trying and failing to keep things afloat, and these horrible dreams I’m having when I do sleep are not helping me. My wonderful husband reassures me that we made promises to be in this together. That’s exactly what we WILL do. He tells me how much he loves me some more. And kisses me. 

Whoo. I’m out of that cloud. It’s not gone. But I’m not in the middle of it. I’m going to hopefully make it to my friends house tomorrow. If the darn gas people get here at a decent time.

That’s was exhausting. I go outside to see the comets. I saw a few. My baby comes out and I have the privilege of rocking him. Under the beautiful night sky. I hum “twinkle twinkle little star”. It’s like he knows I needed this extra love. He squeezes me tight.  Telling me don’t go, live, I need you. And with that I feel better. The fog is still hovering, but not covering. Hopefully with some sleep it will leave, but not forgetten. I won this round. And I will continue to win. I have to. I want to. I will. 

Big sister 

I was going to just post this on Facebook but I felt it needed more space. 

My sister. My big sister. She has been a staple of my life since the beginning. The one true constant. My memories of her go far back to when I was two. She’s my first memory. 

When you think of the oldest, the first; she fits the description perfectly. 

She’s ambitious, determined, strong, a perfectionist, independent, and hard working. She’s also very loving and kind. Just don’t tell her that. 

She’s a fixer. When I see Olivia Pope, I think of my sister. (Just without all the sex, and killing people) when my dad died and my mom was not mentally able to take care of us. My sister took care of us. Miles away. She was a freshman in college. And instead of going out drinking which I’m sure she did, since she was the one who got me drunk for the first time. She was ordering pizza for us, from college, because we had no dinner. She was helping me fill out fasfa while filling out her own. She was helping me get scholarships, and helping me advance my education because she wanted better for us. 

Not only was she helping her family, but she was, and is paving the way for other minorities. I can’t even begin to list all the things she has accomplished in her line of work as a woman of color. 

We both are trying to make this world an equal opportunity for our kids and others. She through her career, me through family. Both working to prove We, woman of color, are not what you see on TV. We aren’t neck rolling, gum smacking baby mamas, taking advantage of the system. We are hard working, educated, women who want just as much, if not more, as our counterpart. 

As of late, my sister has found, that not every person wants to be better. People are fine living the stigma. They are fine with status quo. And it’s breaking her heart. 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s heart breaking to me also. I want more for my boys, I want more for me. I’ve just came to the conclusion that there’s got to be someone out there doing the things that the go getters aren’t going to do. 

Being that she’s the fixer, this is unexceptable to her. 

“I know it just disappointed me so much.  It hurt my heart to read it.  I just don’t understand.” Big sister  

I wish I could give her the answers. But I don’t have them. All I can do is keep on fighting. Fighting for more, fighting to show her that there are people who are striving for the same goal. 

I love you big sis. Thank you for giving me the knowledge to know I’m worth more.


Just clicks

We are on our third year of homeschooling, and believe it or not I still question myself about putting him in public school. I know sounds crazy. I know this is what is right for our family, but I’m a mommy. And the last thing I ever want to do is harm my son’s education. I’m not a teacher, with state regulations to follow. So how do I know I’m doing it right?

Well it’s gonna seem stupid, but it’s such a big deal to me.

Today I was walking into the living room after changing lil’s explosive diaper. Big was playing on the DS, jumped off the couch SO excited and ran to me.

“Mommy mommy I can read!!!”
“You can?! Well that’s cool.” Half ignoring him with other things on my mind.
“That says press start to play!” I look at the screen, and by god that’s what it said.
“Wow you did read it! Very good sweetie!”
“I’m gonna go tell dad.” And he runs off.

Now you may say big whoop, but it is to us. No one ever told him the words on the screen. He was playing angry birds. So there wasn’t really anything to read. So he read the words, and understood what that meant.
That is exciting to me. It’s like reading finally clicked and made sense.

The best part, was that he liked it and wanted to do it again. So at bath time, he read a book to lil…. Twice.

I’m so proud. Proud that he likes reading now, but I’m more proud that I’m the one who taught him.

So exciting. Just another way I’m being reminded that I’m doing something right.


The prize

Last year I participated in a labyrinth walk at church. It was a rough year. Our electric got turned off, and we had to seek help from our lovely church to provide a thanksgiving dinner for us. This made me question the decision about staying home. Maybe I should at least get a part time job. We wouldn’t have to worry about money.
But when I finished this walk; God had spoke to me. He told me to stop… This is the exact path I’m supposed to be on. He never said it would be easy but it’s what he/she wants me to do.

Last month my baby boy got really sick. Was put in the ICU. And we’re there for ten days. I was able to be by his side for all ten days.





Now hubs was able to be there, but he did have to go into work 2 days and bring work to the hospital another day. I remember telling him that I was glad I didn’t work. Missing 10 days would have gotten me replaced. And there was NO way I would have not been there. I didn’t like leaving the hour a day to come home and shower.

Next My sweet 10 month old took his first steps yesterday (dec 8th 2014). The first was while I was on the phone working out details with my sister. I thought it was just a fluke. One step from one couch to another.
The next was no fluke. He stood up and took four steps to his brother. Four steps!!! Lil even saw it happen.


I was reminded once again this is the right path. My poor hubs is in Boston on a business trip. If he wasn’t there he would have been home to see. I finally got baby boy to do it again so I could video it, but it’s not the same as the first. I would have been absolutely devastated if I would have missed it. If someone else would have gotten to see that first.
Now it’s not always flowers and candy. It’s hard hard work, and teething, and 4 year olds who don’t listen make it even harder. There is no sick days or paid vacations. But the reward of seeing these firsts, and being able to be there when they need me without worrying….
It’s worth more than anything.


I’m laying on a hard pull out couch and you on a plastic rolling recliner. You are holding my hand. You look over and say I love you.
My hair’s a mess, I haven’t showered in two days, yet for some reason you still say I’m sexy.
This is not how I imagined we would be spending our 6th wedding anniversary. Our boy got really sick, I was scared, and you were there. My unwavering rock. Your work needed you, big things were happening, yet family came first and you were here. I can’t believe you were here. I’m so thankful you were here. You held me together when I was ready to crumble so that I could be strong for our boy.

When we said our vows we said for better for worse for richer for poor. Although we never been rich in money I know we are rich in love. From day one we always said “As long as we have each other we can get through anything.” And once again that was true.
We are strong when we are better, but the worse has brought us closer. Closer than we have been in a while. This worse has made me look at you in new eyes. Eyes that make me love you more than I thought impossible.
So as you stroke my messy, in need of a freshening hair, I just want to say

Happy Anniversary my sweet! I love you!


When I grow up

Lil: mom what do you want to be when you grow up?
Me: A mommy
Lil: No mom for real, what do you want to be.
Me: ….

When I was younger if you asked me that question I would have said a Veterinarian. Then when I got into college to become a Veterinarian, and realized the likelihood of that happening (too much chemistry) I decided to be a teacher. I graduated from college, and was gonna be a teacher then realized ehh I don’t like the rules and regulations; I decided to become a ABA Therapist. I loved that job. And sometimes miss it.

But then I had lil

And I finally finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up…

I wanted to be a mommy. I wanted to stay home and take care of my kids. I wanted to be there when they left in the morning, and came home after school. (Mind you this was before the homeschool decision)

So when he said that I don’t know why it stung. Because it did. Maybe because my hubs goes to work and he’s still a daddy, or because the neighbor goes to work and she’s still a mommy is the reason he was wondering?

I get that, but this IS what I want to be. I guess I feel bad, and deflected because he doesn’t see me as he sees others? I’m not as good as everyone in his eyes.

I know this is the path I’m supposed to be on, but what do I tell my children, so that they think it’s great also?

I’m still pondering this.

All I know is that when I grow up, and look back on this, I want to be the best darn mommy I could have possibly been. Always been there when they needed me. Gave them what I didn’t have in a mom. To have been firm, and compassionate, but most of, to have been loving. For them to be proud to have me as a mommy.

So I guess if that’s not a job to have when you grow up, I don’t know what to do.

As I’m showing hubs video of our hum drum day (I thought it was a lazy day)

Hubs: I love you…
Me: I love you too…. What was that for?
Hubs: because you’re a good mom.. You’re fun.. Our boys are lucky
Me: (*blush*)
He totally made my week


Speaker of the day

Do you ever get sick of being around people?

I’m having one of those moments.  The introvert in me is screaming right now.  I’m becoming more and more involved in things, and now my introverted self just wants to stay home.
I dont mind being out and about amongst others, because I don’t have to speak to them.  I can just keep my head down and fade into the background. I’m not on anyone’s time, but my own.
With these things I’m involved in,  I have to be present.  I have to participate.

I have to speak……..

You don’t understand how hard it is for me to speak.

It is the ultimate battle in my head. I’ve always been shy. Since I can remember, I’ve always been shy. It is now that I’m older,  I have the courage to speak to others….

In front of others.

It’s pretty exhausting, this internal fight. 

Right now I am feeling pretty overwhelmed about it. I’m starting to want to hermit. Just be here with my family. Where there is no pressure.

Then I look at my friends who are out doing things,

with others, each other

And I get a little jealous,  but know darn well I would rather be home.

I have always told my hubs that we were wild extroverts when we were young, so that we could meet each other and be introverts together. 

So we weren’t alone.

I truly believe that was part of the Lord’s plan for us.

I don’t know.  All I know is this is going to keep me up tonight, if the teething baby doesn’t.

I’ll figure it out I hope.