Life

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

I have been, and continue to be, very open about my experiences with depression and anxiety.

Depression and anxiety are illnesses that I will most likely deal with for the rest of my life.

But there is one thing that I wasn’t doing that I should have done a long time ago when it came to coping with my depression and anxiety.

I wasn’t going to therapy.

I have been to therapy before, but it was always one of those things that I thought of as something that was nice to do, but not necessary. I would go to a few visits, then ghost my therapist like a bad date because other things in life took precedence.

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

I feel like self-care has become such a buzzword lately. It’s everywhere, mostly in parenting blogs, like mine – HA.

“Moms need to take care of themselves! You have to practice self-care to be a balanced human and a good parent and spouse. Blah blah blah.”

But seriously, who has time for self-care? To me, it feels like just another task that has to be completed, and if it’s between me doing the laundry and going to see a movie by myself, I’m going to do the laundry.

I know, the laundry will wait for me. It’s not moving.

No shit, my laundry hasn’t moved without my help over the last ten years.

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

To be 100% honest, I don’t know how to start this post. I have been writing about my past issues with depression lately, but today I want to talk about an episode I had with depression just about six months ago.

I am not a doctor. I am not a specialist. But I have experienced depression. And if I can help someone by sharing my story and being real and open, I am all for it.

And to be totally honest, this is not something that is easy to talk about. The only people who really knew I was suffering from depression at the time were my husband and possibly my mom.

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

Dear 24-year old me,

I know that you are having a hard time with life right now. You are battling depression and anxiety and sometimes you literally don’t know how you are going to make it through the day. Your mind is full of doubt and racing with worry to the point of having panic attacks.

So you self-medicate and drink. And drink. And drink. You still make it to your 8-5 job with a smile on your face and manage to somehow make it through each day. But you are hiding the fact that you are so hungover from last night’s bar crawl that you have to run to the bathroom to vomit a few times.

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

On my Facebook page the other day, I decided to jump on the “How Hard Has Aging Hit You Extravaganza for 30-Somethings Reliving Their Best Life Via Facebook” challenge. I had my profile picture from college next to my current profile picture. The pictures were taken approximately twelve years and one hundred forty-two bottles of self tanner apart.

I could say that having children aged me. Or having a full time job and a mortgage and responsibilities has aged me. But I know that it’s really the fact that I am actually twelve years older that has aged me. And I have cut the tanning bed out of my life.

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

For the last four years or so, I have consistently talked about how I need to get my shit together. You know, start recycling, shower on a regular basis, make sure I actually make it to the lunches I plan with friends, do a great job at work, take care of my children, do the laundry every weekend, spend quality time with my husband, find a hobby that doesn’t include alcohol, lose 20 pounds and Marie Kondo my entire home.

How many other ladies out there have felt the same way? Raise your hands, I know you have said the exact same thing.

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

Let’s just start out by saying that I am a legit child of the 80’s. Going to eat lunch or dinner at Ponderosa was BIG DEAL when I was six. I mean, that was before my city got a Sizzler, but we won’t go there.

Ponderosa was such a big deal in Owensboro, KY, that we had two of them. They were approximately five stoplights away from each other and are both closed now.

I remember going there as a child and staring at the salad bar in awe. It was enormous. Salad and chicken wings and rolls and mashed potatoes and did I mention the soft serve ice cream machine??

CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

Can you still call it a postpartum body if your baby is one?

Actually, he’s fifteen months, but I know people don’t like it when you say your child’s age in months.

It has been fifteen months since I had my eight pound, two ounce baby via c-section, and I’m still not happy with how I look.

Now, don’t bombard me with your diet plans people. Thanks. In. Advance.

So here’s the deal. I’ve always been what my mom calls “curvy”. After I had Baby Boy #1, she pretty much told me that I would never get my old body back.… CONTINUE READING

< !DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40/loose.dtd">

I never started this blog thinking of it as being faith-based. I actually tried to stray from it because I felt like it would alienate some readers. It was a parenting blog. From a parent that knew nothing about parenting. I wanted other parents to realize that they weren’t alone in this crazy, scary, yet oddly satisfying journey.

And people read it. And they liked it. And it became something that I have been really proud of.

I have received some negative feedback from people when I cussed or talked about drinking in my posts.

But hey, I was writing about real life.… CONTINUE READING