I’m writing this blog today because over the past couple weeks a few of my friends have fallen victim to some big mouth mistakes. I’m calling them mistakes because I don’t believe people are trying to be offensive when they say some of the dumb shit that they say. So, I thought maybe we could all use a refresher course on how to not be an asshole.
#1. Mind your own uterus. Do not congratulate someone on their pregnancy unless you know for sure they are pregnant. Instances when you know for sure; they have announced their pregnancy or the baby is crowning. Continue reading
I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m fine with that because I drink coffee anyway. I laugh too loud. I don’t understand boundaries, and I can be rather vulgar. With all that said, I believe everyone serves their purpose in this life.
I entered into our second viable pregnancy on the cusp of a miscarriage. I had miscarried before, so I was not new to the feelings. However, this pregnancy I felt relaxed. Maybe that was because I was already 7 weeks along. Yep, I had gone through two full periods all while carrying this baby. Basically, by the time I found out I was pregnant, I was out of the “danger zone”. Or at least the danger zone as I had known it.
The news was shocking to say the least. I was at my OBGYN’s office for a birth control RX. The previous miscarry had been a lot on my husband and I. We had decided to take pre-cautions until we were sure we wanted to try for a second baby. Ironic that this was the day I saw the baby I absolutely couldn’t live without.
No symptoms, no signs of pregnancy. A different baby, a different pregnancy. It was then that I learned, sometimes when a woman miscarries, her body will begin to ovulate “twice a month”. Often your cycle will continue through the first couple months of pregnancy. Lots of surprises that day.
Fast forward a few months and I’m feeling great. I’ve been relaxed and traveling. Spending time with family out of state. I got to announce this baby in person to so many people that I loved. Something most “out of towners” don’t get to do. Thanks to a new blood panel test, we would even know the sex in a few weeks.
I had secretly been longing for another little girl. I felt like I knew her all along. We shot our “announcement photo’s” with a little pair of pink baby shoes along ours. Even a picture of my husband digging in his wallet, lol. I held off on telling distant friends and social media until exactly 15 weeks.
That’s when it happened.
When I found out our first baby was a girl, I was thrilled. After almost two years of girl life, I wasn’t ready for that to be over. I silently hoped our second little bundle was a girl as well. Nothing made me happier than finding out I was going to be a girl mom again. Sure, I’ve had scary thoughts of teenage life with these two sweeties, but nothing could damper my happiness of raising girls. WRONG! O how wrong I was!
It’s not the drama, the attitude, the whining and crying. It’s the other girls. Apparently, we now live in some alternative universe where “mean girls” start in pre-school. Now, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I was prepared to counsel my girls through middle and high school bullying. BUT pre-school, are you F’ing kidding me? This isn’t going to be the post where I rant and rave about my daughter’s experiences with “mean girls”. This is the post where I make sure my daughter doesn’t turn into one.
This is my biggest re-furb project to date and definitely the most involved. Usually with my furniture projects there is no pressure. If it works out awesome, if not, I just get rid of it. I’ve only worked on pieces that were almost out the door anyways. Here are some before pictures.
(A few notes about this set. It was sold by Ashley Furniture about 8-10 years ago, it has some solid wood and some composite. The top showed the most wear, as you can see below. The composite and laminate did not cause any problems with this project.)
Once again Christmas card season is upon us. I mean, can we call it a Christmas card? Do we have to call it a holiday card? I don’t know what to call it, but I do know I’m late. My social media feeds are already packed full of adorable family photos which will inevitably become Christmas cards. I have yet to even schedule a photo session. I’m just not into it this year. Usually my Christmas cards are my pride and joy. This year there is a good chance it might not even happen. Let me tell you why.
First of all, this year has been so cray! Every day it’s something. It’s dance class, pre-school, therapy, holiday parties, birthday parties, doctors’ appointments, grocery store, not to mention someone in this house is always sick. We are off of all official kid activities this week, and I’m trying desperately not to leave the house. The last damn thing I want to do is dress my family and drag them to a photo shoot. Also, my photo shoot joy was trampled by my husband this year.
I started this investigation for myself and after everything I found, I have to share. The fact of the matter is I don’t just want to be able to defend myself, my kids, and my home; I don’t want to ever be in the position where I have to. My goal is to get you guys protected, so you don’t have to defend.