Baby, Baby, Baby, Ohhhh!

Everyone loves a good Justin Bieber reference, right? Jk. I know he’s annoying, but I just(in) couldn’t help myself. I needed an awesome baby related title because well…you know…I’m pregnant…with #3. Let’s pause and let that sink in for a minute. Number three. THREE. As in Benji and I will be outnumbered when this one gets here. That’s hella scary. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re rolling your eyes and saying to yourself “Ashley, you do know what causes this, right?!”  And yes…yes, I do know what causes it. BEARDS. Specifically beards worn by hot librarian husbands. Just sayin’!

In all seriousness though, this was unplanned. Again. Not that we didn’t want baby #3. We definitely did. But having just suffered a miscarriage in September, I didn’t think my heart could handle the roller coaster of emotions that come with trying to conceive a baby. With that being the case, Benji and I talked and decided that we would wait for a year before trying again.

And then BOOM! Pregnant. I found out three days after Christmas. I wasn’t even late, but I had this headache that I ONLY get when I’m a few days pregnant. After suffering from this hellish headache for 24 hours, I knew what was wrong. There was a fetus a growin’ in my uterus (said in a really redneck tone). I took a test even though it was way too early for a positive result…but sure enough two lines showed up. I hadn’t even told Benji I was going to test. He walked into the bathroom to find me laughing hysterically, like an insane person. He asked what I was laughing at and smiled when I told him I was pregnant. “Are you happy?” he asked. I think he was afraid that I had finally gone insane. I mean…I *was* in the bathroom completely alone, laughing to myself…and admittedly that’s kind of weird, but I WAS happy. Extremely happy and totally surprised. It was the perfect way to cap off the Christmas holidays.

I spent the next few weeks being really afraid of losing the baby. I’ve had two miscarriages now, and that puts me at a higher risk to have another one in the future. So while I was over the moon excited about our new little life, my excitement was dampered by my fear. It was a constant struggle. By about week seven though, I was tired it. I made a mental choice to start celebrating this baby. Even though I might lose it at some point, I decided to love and celebrate him or her while they were with me. I made my pregnancy public at that point so that people could pray for us, and hold me accountable.


Surprisingly, it worked. Since making my pregnancy public, it has been much easier not to give into the fear. I definitely still have moments, just like any mother, but the moments are much smaller than they were. Now I’m more excited and joyful and I’m rejoicing over this new life! Whoop whoop!!

I had my first appointment on February 12th and everything looked perfect. The heart rate was 170 and measurements were exactly where they should be. We’re calling our baby Blobert for now :)


Say hi!

So far, I’ve felt pretty great. I’ve had some mild nausea, and some very strong aversions, but other than that, I cannot complain. With Harper, I was sick all day, every day, until 20 weeks. It was terrible. With Emrist, I was only really sick for about three weeks, but it was still torture. I seem to remember it going away by week 10 though. With this pregnancy, I haven’t even thrown up! I’m not sure what to think about that. Maybe my body has just built up a tolerance to being pregnant? Who knows, but I am SO grateful. Especially considering that I have two children and I work six days a week. Maybe this is just God’s grace to me <3

Harper and Emrist are both pretty stoked. Harper gets it more than Emrist does, of course, but she seems to understand a bit too. She is really into babies, and told us this weekend that she wanted a little sister. Harper goes back and forth between saying he wants a brother and then saying he wants a sister. Honestly, I think he’ll be happy either way. He just wants a baby!

We won’t know what we’re having until September, as we are going Team Green this time. That’s right. We aren’t finding out the sex until the birthday! At this point, I don’t feel too anxious to know, but I’m wondering if I might be tempted to take a peak during the anatomy scan. I guess we’ll see. It should be in about 5 weeks.

Everyone asks if I have a preference, and truth be told, I do…but it’s not for the reasons you might think. Harper and Emrist have both been wonderful, so I would no doubt be 100% thrilled to have a boy or a girl. I really and truly would! But a part of me kind of hopes for another girl only because this is our last baby, and I think Emrist needs a close sister relationship. Harper has the type of personality that would do just fine without having a brother to be BFFs with – he’s sort of a loner anyways. But sweet Em…she is so relational. She needs that sister bond and when I picture our family a few years down the road, I just see that for her. A little sister to hold hands with and to share secrets with. I guess we will find out in September :)

Okay…that’s it for now. I really can’t believe I finally blogged. It only took 13 weeks! I guess I’ll see you guys again in about 2-3 months. Peace.

The Pensieve, 2014 Edition


I can’t believe it’s already time to do this again. Sheesh. This post will be pretty short. I’m tired (aren’t we all?) and don’t feel like being overly chatty, but I do want to keep my yearly tradition going :) So, I’ll simply post my favorite memories pulled from the jar, and won’t bore you by saying anything further! If you want to see a recap of our 2012 and 2013 memory jars, you can view those here, The Pensieve, and here, The Memory Keeper.

Below is a picture of the ones I chose, and I’ve typed them out as well…you know, so you can actually read them! :)


This was the first year that Harper really understood the memory jar, so he was actually able to add a few memories himself (I’ve been waiting for this moment for forever!). A couple of these are his. Since different people are now contributing, I’ll be putting the contributor’s name after each memory, along with the date.

Okay, here we go!

#1 We were all four in bed together early in the morning. Em wasn’t feeling well, and I was running my fingers through her hair. Harper started rubbing her back, and said “I love you.” Then he looked up at me and said “I love her mom. I love her!” Ashley, 08/16/2014

#2 Harper came into the kitchen at 05:45 AM. He hugged Benji, as he always does, and then told us he had had a bad dream. He said he dreamed he was a giant, and kept trying to cross a bridge, but it would always break under his weight. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him tell us one of his dreams. Ashley, 11/19/2014

#3 We took Harp & Em to the beach for the first time. We went to Pensacola with the Huggins. The kids LOVED the beach! It was a beautiful day and the water was crystal clear. Harper kept saying “Mom, I love this!” Emrist stayed at the water’s edge for most of the time, playing in the sand. Harper kept trying to hear the ocean in the shells. He also informed me that the water tasted like corn. It was such an incredible day! Ashley, 10/26/2014

#4 Emrist took her first steps today. Daddy didn’t have to work because of the snow, so we were all home. She was pushing Harper’s tricycle and then walked to Mommy. Benji, 01/29/2014

#5 Harper’s first program. Oh my gosh! He was adorable! He was so excited and loved the spotlight! He scanned the crowd for us, and when he finally found us, his eyes did not leave us. He jumped and sang, while staring and waving at us. Emrist shouted “Hey Harper!” at one point. It was so adorable! Ashley, 12/18/2014

#6 Harper and Daddy went to the movie theater in Montgomery to see Harper’s very first movie. It was Despicable Me 2. Harper sat through the whole movie, sometimes in Daddy’s lap, sometimes in his seat. It was a fun time. Benji, 06/13/2014

#7 A firetruck visited my school. I took a picture on it. They taught me how to drive it. I went inside of it. It was so cool! Harper, 10/01/2014

#8 After a long day of flying, we had our soul friend reunion on August 8th. We spent the entire week at Jenn’s. The kids enjoyed each other’s company. We cooked, drank wine, and had good conversation. It was such a wonderful week. I was sad to see it go! Ashley, 08/08/2014 – 08/15/2014

#9 (TMI warning, but it’s just too funny not to share!). Em pooped in the potty for the first time! She came to me and told me she needed to go the bathroom. She said she wanted to use the potty, so we did. She tried really hard, but to no avail. I decided to let her walk around naked. She was playing with a toy Ferris Wheel, and looked adorable, so I decided to snap a picture. Right as the shutter snapped, I realized she wasn’t just standing there to play! I quickly scooped her up an placed her on the potter and she did it. I was so proud! But the best thing is that I got a picture of her almost pooping on the floor.  Ashley, 12/10/2014

^^^^See…I told you. TMI…but this was just three weeks ago, and I still crack up over it on a regular basis! The picture is hilarious, but unfortunately, I’m not one of those moms who can post nakey pictures of her babies on the interwebz…so unless you’re a good friend of mine, you’ll probably never get to see it. Relieved? Or sad?

#10 “It said whooooo!” Harper, in reference to an owl we heard in the woods behind our house, while it was snowing. 01/28/2014

Okay, I lied about not saying anything else. I just wanted to write and say that for me, 2014 will be most remembered as the year Montgomery finally became home to us. We’ve been here for two years, and I finally feel like we have a solid foundation beneath us. This place is home now, which is weird because I never planned on it becoming home. We’ve been blessed with lifelong friends, and a wonderful church family. We’ve made some wonderful memories, especially over the past year, and I can honestly say I wouldn’t mind staying here forever. Who knows if we actually will – that’s up to God! But I’d be happy if we did. So yeah…that’s what 2014 was about for me. Home. I can’t wait to see what 2015 holds for our family.

And lastly, here’s a picture of Harp with the jar.

He was really into it this year! I can’t wait until Emrist is too!


Little Snowflake

I’m nearly a week overdue…but it’s that time again. The time when one of my babies adds another year to their life, I spend hours reliving my favorite moments gone by through pictures and videos, and then lament about the passage of time. Sigh. It’s so bittersweet! But really y’all…how does it go by so fast? I feel like it went by even quicker with Em than it did with Harp. How have two years passed?

Somehow my girl has gone from this:


To this:


Sweet, sweet thing.

I have so many things that I could write about her, but I really want to focus on the temporary things that she is doing right now. The things that will be completely different a year from now. Kids change so quickly!

This will probably be a bit choppy, since I’m just going to write as it comes to me, so forgive me! :)

The first thing I will write about is her pouty lip. Yeah…I know. You can’t really picture her glaring and pouting away while that shiny smiley picture sits up above, but trust me…the girl gives a mean pout pout face. Any time she is told not to do something she gives us THE look. It’s hilarious, because she is trying to look all sad and cute, but she actually comes off as mean muggin’ us whenever she does it. Do y’all even know what that means? Hit up urban dictionary, if not.

Hmmm…next we’ll talk about food. She’s a dipper. Dude…she will eat ANYTHING if she can dip into something. Give her some brussel sprouts with a side of caramel, and she will clear the plate! We don’t really feed her that, but you get the point…and you’re probably gagging now, right? Me too. The only thing she is weird about is bread and meat. She loves chicken…but that’s about it on the meat front. And bread? 90% of the time, she won’t eat it. Like, if she has a PB&J, she will lick all the PB&J off and leave the bread. But then sometimes she will eat it. She’s just an unpredictable weirdo, who eats ketchup by the spoonful.

She’s still allergic to dairy. And Benji and I are still learning how to keep that stuff away from her. I am completely serious about that statement, unfortunately. We don’t have it all figured out just yet. Dairy is in everything and it’s hard to avoid sometimes! Before having her, anytime I heard that someone had a dairy allergy, I always envisioned them just having to avoid milk and cheese. I didn’t realize that meant no goldfish, or Annie’s cheddar bunnies. No Pirate’s booty. No cake. No ice cream. Etc. And yes…I realize that those are all junk food items, but that seems to be the only time we run into this problem of stupidity on our part. “Oh, you’d like to share your goldfish with her? Sure…that’s okay!” WAIT!

I am just so dumb about this stuff. This is the first time I’ve ever dealt with someone who has food allergies. Even her birthday THIS YEAR…I ordered a regular cake. I didn’t even think about it! Then when she had a flare up, I realized…DUH…cakes are made with milk. Geez. Thank God it’s not a life threatening allergy because I am an idiot y’all. When we’re at home and in our own environment, it’s pretty easy to avoid it, but when we’re out and about or doing something different or having a special snack…that’s when it gets tricky. Hopefully this will be one of those things that does change over time! I’d hate for her to deal with this for the rest of her life.

And continuing with allergies, she is still majorly allergic to cats and dogs…and we think other animals too? She loves animals so we take her and Harp to the zoo a good bit. Any time we go though, she has a reaction…just from being around the animals. About a month ago, we took her to Pet Smart just so she could look at the animals. She had a reaction from that as well. I don’t know why she is so sensitive to animals. Her allergist said her immune system is just in overdrive. Hopefully it’ll settle down over the years.

What else? Hmm…homegirl is hilarious. She is super silly, but also very shy. This means that usually we (and a few close friends/family) are the only ones that get to see her be crazy! She’s too busy clinging to me whenever we’re around strangers, to be a goofball for everyone else. It’s a special kind of feeling…knowing that she reserves her craziness for us.

Let’s see. She is Pops’ baby. She tells us that all the time! “No…I’m not your baby…I’m Pops’ baby!” Pops is my stepdad. She loves love loves him! She loves Gran too, but I think even Gran will agree that Pops holds the keys to her heart. It’s kind of adorable.

She is also The Boss Baby. That’s what Harper calls her because she runs the freaking show around here. Harper doesn’t even put up a fight most of the time. I love their relationship. I’ve labeled them as frienemies. They fight and they cuddle…not at the same time, of course! But they do love each other fiercely! While I don’t like to see them fight, I’m not really bothered by it either. I guess it’s because I’m the oldest of four and I can remember some pretty hardcore fights between me and my siblings. We’re all BFFs now and are very protective of one another…so I guess you could say we turned out alright! I think Harp and Em are going to be the best of friends one day.  I hope so anyways.

Other than that, development wise she is 32 inches (12th percentile) and 28 lbs (69th percentile). I do believe she is going to be short like my mother…and I love it!

“Though she be but little, she is fierce.”


That she is. And I love every bit of her!

The Wiener Book

Moms. Do you ever have days where you just have no idea what you’re doing? I have them often. Well…every day, really, because seriously…I don’t know what I am doing. Help me, Jesus!

I am indecisive about everything. The smallest of decisions can give me problems, so when it comes to decisions that affect my children….well, you can imagine. It might take DAYS before I decide on how I should handle something. Every possible scenario and consequence will pop into my head. My brain is like one of those choose your own adventure books.  Like…is giving my son a chick-fil-a french fry today somehow going to lead him down the path of becoming a serial killer tomorrow? You know…those types of things. Or maybe you don’t know because you’re not a freak like me. Whatevs.

But I am like this EVERY. DAY. So imagine my level of confusion (on how to handle things) when my son handed me The Wiener Book. Yeah…you read that right. THE WIENER BOOK. What in the world, right? My thoughts exactly.

Read on.

Harper told me this morning that he wanted to make a book. I handed him a folded blank notecard and told him to have at it. He came back and handed me his creation. He had it folded closed, and was calling it My Name Book. I opened it to find the letter H written inside. I smiled and told him what a great job he had done. He immediately asked for it back saying that he wanted to draw a picture of himself inside. I handed it back and he ran off. A few minutes later he returned and excitedly told me that he had drawn his wiener. I opened it up to find a self portrait that indeed included his “wiener” and I was speechless. IS THIS REAL LIFE?

He also informed me that it was no longer called My Name Book, but instead was now called The Wiener Book.


I sat frozen, not really sure of what to do. On the one hand, I was really impressed that he had put it in the right location. That’s what she said? Sorry, I had to. But seriously, y’all…he just started really drawing about a month ago and has already made so much progress. I think it’s awesome!

On the other hand, though, what if he starts drawing pictures of his junk at school? Or worse…AT CHURCH? Holy Moses, that would be embarrassing.

Though I was frozen in my indecisiveness, my insides were BURNING with laughter. Phew. I held it in, and put on a shaky smile. I kept quiet, aside from a quick thank you, and acted like his wiener picture was the most normal drawing I had ever received. I just didn’t want to decide what to do right then and there. Instead, I texted Benji to see if maybe he knew where our family stood on wiener drawings. He thought it was funny.

So now I feel like I need to decide on what kind of mother I want to be.

Here are my options:

A). The Hippie Mom: The human body is a work of art and should be valued and appreciated as such, even by the littlest of souls. Wieners are no laughing matter. They are beautiful. Any time one is drawn, it will be proudly displayed upon our family fridge, full of organic non-GMO food.

B). The Conservative Mom. No wiener pictures allowed. Ever. No ifs, ands, or butts (none of those either!) about it.

C). The Hipervative Mom. A mixture of A & B. The kids are allowed to draw any and all artsy fartsy pictures so long as we are at home. When in public, no wieners or butts allowed. But where do I draw the line? Can they draw boogers? Farts? Etc. I need to go ahead and write the laws on this because these scenarios WILL COME UP.

So…these are the mom choices that are before me. I’ve got my #2 pencil sharpened and ready to go, but I have no idea what I’ll pick. Stayed tuned for my decision. I’ll let you know in about a week. Not really, but it’s fun to hope.

Four Years

IMG_6971Harp will be four tomorrow. FOUR! What? That just seems so old to me. Sigh. Each birthday that comes and goes absolutely blows my mind. I imagine it will always be like that though.

Admittedly, I am a little sad that my baby is growing up, but at the same time, I am SO excited about age four. We are leaving the “terrible” threes behind, y’all! As each day passes, Harp is acting less and less like a wild animal, and more like a civilized human being. LOL…I’m somewhat exaggerating how he has acted over the past year – three really wasn’t so bad for him – but he definitely had his days ;-) Even though three was mild for us, I’ve still noticed a drastic difference in how he handles himself here lately – he is a lot calmer these days!

Since little ones change so often, I figured I’d write a little bit about who he is and what he likes in this current season of life. So here goes nothing:

Although he has changed in many ways, one thing has remained the same – he still loves things that spin. This obsession started when he was right at a year old, and has stayed with him.  He loves motors, propellors, box fans, air conditioning units, gears, windmills, etc. ANYTHING that spins.

He loves music. His favorite songs right now are All About That Bass, Shake It Off, Oceans, Problem, Thrift Shop (the clean version lol) and oddly enough, the Anfield Rap by the Liverpool FC, thanks to his daddy. He seems to gravitate towards songs with a sick beat. He’s a lot like his mama in that way.

He is a cautious individual when it comes to the physical world. He is a rule follower and doesn’t usually test the boundaries that are given to him. His memory is KILLER sharp. If he gets hurt doing something, he will generally stay away from whatever it was that hurt him for like…forever. And it only takes one time! He is not someone to stand back up, dust himself off, and then forget about it. For example, when he was a year old, he got hurt after going down a slide. This caused him to have a fear of slides, which he only just now overcame this year. I’m serious, y’all. He holds onto and remembers everything. This can be a good and bad thing.

He loves people. One of my favorite things to do is to just sit back and watch him at the park. He will walk up to random people and excitedly say “Hi, I’m Harper!” and then just start up a conversation with them. I really admire his bravery in this area. I often pray that this part of him doesn’t change as he ages. It’s just so amazing to watch him greet new people without a single ounce of fear in his body. As someone who struggles with anxiety, it inspires me to do the same.

His interest in drawing recently peaked about a month or so ago. I’m not sure if it’s because of preschool, or what, but he has just taken off in this area. Up until recently, he didn’t really care to draw all that much, but now he wants to often. And he draws with purpose versus the scribbling he would do a few months ago. He enjoys drawing letters, numbers, logos, flowers, fans, people, etc. He recently told me that when he grows up, he wants to be able to draw as good as his daddy. Holy moly heart melt. <3

Now. Take his love of drawing, and multiply it by about 75, and you’ll have his love of building things. Boxes, cups, legos, blocks, books, etc. Whatever is available, really. He enjoys using anything around him to build towers and structures that his sister destroys within 3.7 seconds of seeing. The cycle is pretty cute to watch. That girl always has her eye out for his creations.

And then there’s food. Harp loves to eat. We sometimes refer to him as a garbage disposal – should I be writing that here where he might someday read it? LOL. He eats and eats and eats, and yet his waist never grows. It’s so unfair!

Food has always been a pretty easy area for us, and I’ve never considered Harp a picky eater. Once he tries something, he almost always likes it. It’s the getting him to actually try new things part that is hard. Like I said above, he is very cautious, and unfortunately that flows over into his eating habits sometimes.

Luckily, we introduced him to several fruits and veggies before he reached the point of not wanting to try new things, so we have a pretty solid foundation of good foods to pull from for his meals. We try to add one new item to his plate a day, and it’s a 50/50 chance on whether or not he will actually stick it in his mouth. I just keep offering and introducing new things in hopes that he will get over his fear.

The foods that he already knows and loves though? He could eat those all day without stopping. Seriously! His favorite meal is scrambled eggs, a piece of toast, with a side of raw spinach. We call it the Harper special round these parts.

One of the weirdest things about his tastes is that he doesn’t like chocolate. I’d really like to know where this trait came from and how can I inherit it? lol.

So that pretty much sums him up at the moment. He is such a sweet, joyful, loving little boy. I often think that he must mirror Benji as a child because he is just so sweet. I know he didn’t get that from me. I was a terror child :-P

I sure do enjoy being this little boy’s mama <3

I’m Praying To Have A Disease

Earlier this year, I started to suspect something might be wrong with my thyroid. It all started around March. I had recently stopped using birth control because it was giving me a lot of problems. Benji and I weren’t quite ready to add Martin Baby #3 to the family yet, so I started tracking my basal body temperature in order to prevent pregnancy. On several occasions, I had a temperature in the 96 degree range. One morning it was even close to 95 degrees. On most mornings though, it was right around 97.0-97.1 degrees. After a few days of seeing what I thought to be incredibly low temperatures, I decided to Google it (as I do EVERYTHING) to see if it was normal. It wasn’t. It was an indication of hypothyroidism. No shocker there. I have a huge family history of thyroid dysfunction. 

My interests really peaked when I read about two symptoms linked to hypothyroidism: inability to dilate during labor and low to no breast milk supply. Check and check. 

After reading that, and a few other things, I was absolutely convinced that I was suffering from hypothyroidism and possibly had been for years. I had SO many of the symptoms. I quickly set up an appointment to discuss it with my midwife. I just knew my life was about to change for the better. I devoured everything I could on thyroid disorders in preparation for that appointment. When I finally went in, I had a full page typed up of symptoms that I had that lined up with hypothyroidism. My midwife examined me and said my thyroid *was* enlarged, and she also did blood work. Since I actually had a thyroid goiter, I was hopeful that this meant I was right and that the problem would show up in my labs, and would therefore get fixed. Wrong! So so so wrong.

My labs came back completely normal. Sigh. I can’t even begin to tell you how deflated I felt after that phone call. I knew something was wrong with my thyroid…but what? If everything was supposedly okay, why was my thyroid enlarged? My midwife told me that it was probably just “my normal”. I got the feeling from her that I might be making a mountain out of a mole hill, so I dropped it. Except…not really. I didn’t mention it to her anymore, but I did Google the crap out of thyroid disorders that can go undetected on your labs. To my surprise, there were several. I was most suspicious of Hashimoto’s disease. The internet was full of folks talking about how hard it was to have their Hashimoto’s diagnosed and how hard they had to fight for it. Blah. I mean…who wants to fight with doctors? Not me. So I basically gave up. I just didn’t feel up to it. I put my suspicions away. I changed my diet, and tried to “heal myself naturally” in the meantime.

I lived a few months like that, and some of my symptoms *did* get better. But…I still felt off for the most part. 

Then I got pregnant (Yes…on purpose).

And then I miscarried. Sigh.

I know, I know…this is awkward. I can’t believe I’m even writing about it here because I’m still kind of in the thick of it. It just happened last Monday. But it happened, and it’s part of this story…so…yeah. I miscarried, and once again I could not stop thinking about my thyroid. To make matters worse, I was having some swelling, pain, and pressure in my neck. Any time I turned my head, I could feel extra…neck? What in the world. I don’t even know how to describe it. I didn’t think it was visibly noticeable..I just felt like something was off. Thinking I was being a psychotic hypochondriac, I took a picture of my neck and compared it to one I had from June. My plan was to prove myself crazy, so that I could DROP IT. But I wasn’t crazy: 


I weigh MORE in the picture on the left than I do on the right. But…check the neck on the right. 

So I called my midwife to tell her about the miscarriage and to talk about my thyroid concerns. She sounded totally annoyed that I called. I mean…it *was* a holiday, but still. Really? She was very dismissive of my thyroid concerns: “Your labs are probably still normal” and “that pain and pressure in your neck is probably not because of your thyroid.” Etc. There was no sympathy in her voice, only a tone that was suggestive of wanting to get the eff off the phone with me. I was completely shocked. Although she had seemed to think I was overreacting about the thyroid stuff back in April…I never got the sense that she didn’t care or wouldn’t do anything to help me. This time was completely different though. I knew I couldn’t trust her to help me, so I decided to switch practices. Exactly what you want to do when you’re having a miscarriage. Ugh.  

So I had an appointment with a brand spankin’ new OB on Thursday and she was freaking incredible. I cried during my appointment. CRIED, y’all. She didn’t make me feel like a crazy head for thinking something was wrong. Instead, she ordered a thyroid ultrasound and more blood work to make sure everything was okay. I didn’t even have to ask her to do it! 

The ultrasound was on Friday. Being the awesomely nosy person that I am, I got a copy of the report before my OB even had a chance to see it. 

Big ole’ fatty fat mistake.

I mean…I had prepared myself for what I saw, but when it was actually there…staring me in the face…well, I freaked the freak out. No…for real…I cried off and on for almost a solid 24 hours. 

Basically, my thyroid is full of nodules. Most of them are 1-2 cm in size, but there is one that is over 4 cm and requires a biopsy to make sure it isn’t cancerous. Ugh. Why, why, why did I look?! So now, because of my impatience, I am stuck with this scary news, and have no other option other than to just wait until my OB calls me!  

I’m praying my butt off that she calls tomorrow. But more than that, now that I’ve calmed down, and returned to being a semi rational individual, I am praying that I was right all along and just have Hashimoto’s disease. Yes…I am PRAYING to have a disease. I’d rather have that over cancer :-) 

So…will you join me in this? Thyroid cancer wouldn’t be the end of the world. It’s one of the easier ones to cure, in fact…but still. I just really don’t want cancer in my body. AT ALL. All I can think about is how I would manage to care for my littles while going through surgery and treatment, etc. It’d just be so much easier if all of this was Hashimoto’s and I could just take meds. Will you pray with me? :-)

Recycled Air

Recycled Air. The whole time we were flying home, I had this song stuck in my head. Specifically the lines: 

Knuckles clenched to white as the landing gear detracts for flight
My head’s a balloon inflating with the altitude

I felt like it was my theme song for the day. I am terrified of flying. My knuckles were definitely clenched to white. I was breathing in a steady stream of recycled air. All. Day. Long. But it would have been a bit more accurate if there had been a line or two about toddler tantrums, or being covered in toddler vomit on top of everything else. I guess Ben Gibbard wasn’t really writing about flying with toddlers though, was he? 

Sigh. Flying with toddlers. That was an experience. Pretty much the opposite of everything I thought it would be. I had expected my daughter to be calm and collected during the flight. I had expected my son to freak the freak out because he is afraid of heights. Out of the two of them, I expected Harper to cry. I expected the strangers surrounding us to be mean and impatient when he did cry. 

None of these things happened, however. Emrist cried screamed the entire duration of our first flight. And I do mean screamed. She also flailed and kicked the guy’s seat in front of her while I was trying to restrain her. Harper *was* terrified, but he didn’t panic or cry like I thought he would. He only asked to hold my hand during take off and landing. And the strangers. Well I experienced nothing but kindness and grace from the people on the plane. Honestly, I had boarded the plane prepared to give the bird to anyone who so much as looked our way, but Mr. Middle Finger stayed down. Instead, I was tempted to hug people I had never met before. It was horrible and beautiful all in one sitting. People tried to help me comfort my kids. They offered both of them food. They tried to make them laugh. One lady even gave Emrist her iPhone to play with! I never once felt like someone was annoyed with us. I was humbled by the experience to say the least. 

That was the flight there.

The trip home, which I thought would be easier for some reason, was so so so SO much worse. From Houston to Atlanta, I succeeded in keeping Emrist happy. She threatened to cry a few times, but I always managed to settle her back down. It was a lot of work and I was on edge the whole time. Harper asked to hold my hand for the entire two hour flight. Juggling her while holding his hand was pretty interesting. Upon landing in Atlanta, I was emotionally spent. It’s difficult to meet the emotional needs of your children when you have your own anxiety and fear of flying to deal with. I would have much preferred to have been knocked out for that flight, but that wasn’t possible with two littles in my care. So I was just…spent. I was already on the verge of tears, and I was NOT WANTING TO GET ON THAT SECOND PLANE. But I did. I forced myself to board and settled down with my kids and just prayed that God would get me through it. 

Everyone had boarded, but the cabin door was still open. A passenger nearby commented a couple of times on how cute Emrist was. I turned to talk to her and joked that I still hoped she thought so in a minute. It was like I was a prophet. Almost as soon as I said it, I felt warm liquid running down my arm. I turned toward Emrist, who was sitting in my lap facing me, and saw that she was puking. And it just kept coming, and coming, and coming – projectile style. We both looked at each other, me with a WTF expression and her with a do something expression. But what do you do when your daughter is recreating a scene from the exorcist on a plane? My brain finally caught up with what was happening and I began to rub her back in an attempt to comfort her. I also began to catch her puke. This is something no one tells you about motherhood. You will actually involuntarily hold your hands out to catch your child’s puke. It’s the weirdest thing ever. So yeah…that happened, and everyone was staring…just as unsure of what to do as I was. At one point, I said “I think we need to get off.” The lady who had said Emrist was cute offered to go get help. She got the flight attendant and she said we could deboard. Even though we were covered in vomit, the passengers around us all offered to help. The pilot stopped to check on Em because he was worried. Again…just absolute kindness from strangers. It was amazing. 

So we got off, and then I fell apart. No seriously. For about 30 minutes, I wandered around the Atlanta airport (which by the way is the largest airport in the entire WORLD! Crazy, right?) puke-covered and crying. Yes…crying. Because I just didn’t know what to do. I had packed extra clothes for the children, but none for me, and it was going to take Benji three hours to get to us. And I know I should be ashamed that I took this picture, but I knew I would want to remember it after the craziness passed…so for your viewing pleasure…this is what I looked like: 

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Yeah, I know. Gross. GROSS. You probably want to puke yourself right now, don’t you? I just needed you to know.

So imagine seeing this person wandering around with two children…crying. I mean…I was getting some wide-eyed stares. I finally found a little store with some twelve dollar shirts and got changed. After that, my mood improved and I stopped having a pity party for myself. I realized that I could either laugh it off and enjoy my time with my children, or I could wallow around in it and feel sorry for myself. I chose option A and took them to a piano bar while we waited for Benji. We had fun. We laughed. And I’m sure we probably smelled great too ;)

Emrist threw up three more times that night, and was sick all day Saturday. It turns out that she had some sort of stomach bug. I thought that we had all escaped it, but Harper hasn’t been feeling well today and is also running a fever. Hoping that maybe it’s just a fluke.

Anyways, I just had to write about this experience before my memory was blocked out. It was CRAZY! And though I was blessed by the kindness of strangers and some good did come from it, I don’t think I’ll ever get on a plane with toddlers again. At least not if I can help it! 

Here are some more pictures from our trip! 1795544_10152580464201772_4980065698630417565_n

This was taken right before we entered the airport. 
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Making sure she met the carry on requirements :)

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Just before all hell broke loose. Look how scared Harper looks. Sweet baby. 2014-08-08 05.58.45


Looking at our plane. 

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We were able to sit with friends for our second flight <3

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Em fell asleep right when we landed. She was exhausted!

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Successful transfer to the stroller

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At the piano bar…eating, which was a mistake, in case you were wondering. Haha.


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I found this note at the Atlanta airport LOL

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And this is how Em spent all of Saturday. Poor baby was SO SO sick :( 


She finally perked up after some ibuprofen though. She has been mostly better since then, thank the Lord! :) 

The Date.

Maybe this will be long. Or maybe it will be short. I’m not really sure what it will look like considering I’ve never done it before. But be warned. I’m going to write with no purpose or plan…because I just need to do that today.

I’m going to write about my sister, Megan. Well…technically she was my stepsister, but I really hate calling her that. “Stepsister” makes me think of the mean stepsisters from Cinderella and she was nothing like that. Perhaps just calling her my best friend would be more accurate? That’s really what she was…we just happened to also be related by marriage. 

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned her in a post or two before, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually written a post solely about her here. To be completely honest, when it comes to talking about her, I kind of avoid it like the plague. It brings up all sorts of feelings, good and bad, and I still feel raw from losing her. I’m not a “feelings” kind of gal…I mean, duh, I am. I have feelings. I just don’t enjoy talking about them. Whenever I do talk about them, I feel naked with a bunch of onlookers or something. I just don’t love it, mmkay? When it comes to grief, well that’s an especially private matter for me and I usually just keep it to myself.

So why am I opening up now? Well, one reason is because today is the date. If you’ve ever lost someone, you know what “the date” is. It’s the one day a year you wish you could wipe off the calendar. The date that reminds you that you still aren’t over it. The date that you dread for weeks in advance because you will be reliving what happened on that day. Today is the date for me…and this one is extra hard because it marks 14 years since Megan’s passing. She was 14 when she died, so she has officially been gone as long as she was here, and that’s a hard concept for me to swallow.

So there’s that. And then there’s the fact that I was thinking about her yesterday and I couldn’t remember what her voice sounded like and that really upset me. I started panicking over what else I may have forgotten since she’s been gone, and I started recalling some wonderful memories with her. I decided it would be good to document them before my faulty brain decides to trash them. So that’s what I’m going to do today. I’m just going to write memories.

Here goes:

*She loved, loved, LOVED Taco Bell. Whenever we would go, she would get the Nacho Bell Grande, and it would take her half a century to eat it.  She wasn’t done until every last drop had been cleaned off her plate (she would take her finger and drag it across, then lick the cheese off her finger lol). I’m so serious when I say it would take her 45 minutes to eat it!

*Driving. Yeah, I know she was underage, but she loved to drive. She actually scared the crap out of me one time by taking me for an unsuspected spin on the interstate. Yes, folks….14 years olds driving on the interstate lol. I still can’t believe it myself.

*When we would go to our favorite Mexican restaurant, she would always order cheese dip. She would get so mad at me for first dipping my chip into the salsa, and then into the cheese. She HATED having them mixed.

*She was boy CRAZY! Anytime we went to the beach, we would have to take disposable cameras so that she could walk by and snap pictures of any guy she thought was cute.

*When we’d go to sleep at night, we would give each other timed back rubs until we fell asleep. I would do a minute and then she would do a minute. Occasionally we would draw pictures on each other’s backs instead of a plain back rub.

*We would tell people we were twins because our birthdays were one day apart and we had the same middle name.

*While at school one day, I received a threatening note from a girl in my grade that wanted to beat me up. I was pretty much resigned to getting my butt kicked. I told Megan about it and she came to my school’s football game that Friday and stood by my side/defended me when the girl approached me. I didn’t have a problem after that lol.

*She sometimes called me Nicky.

*She loved to sleep and was NOT fun to wake up.

*We snuck out of the house together in the middle of the night once. We walked to the park, hung out with some of our friends, and then crawled back in through the window before dawn. (All of you reading this who have teens…is this scaring the crap out of you yet?).

*One time we visited my great aunt,  and we rolled down the hill in her front yard until we both had holes in our jeans.

*Y2K. We celebrated by mooning our entire family. Happy New Years, y’all!

*She was brave. She really wasn’t afraid of anything. She was always game for anything exciting. She loved knee boarding, riding roller coasters, skating and just going fast. She was always trying to get me to ride roller coasters with her, and I was too afraid. She said I would love it. I finally did it when I was 18, and she was right. I loved it!

*We rarely fought, but when we did…it was intense. One time we got into a fight over a basketball (lol). I walked away with a cut to my gums and she left with a bright red, perfect handprint on her skin. We were also fond of pulling each other’s hair.



Okay. I’m going to stop here because Benji needs the laptop, but I plan on making this page a running log of memories of her. I just want to remember everything!

If you knew her, and have anything you’d like to add, feel free to comment! This can be a page for you as well :)





A love letter to summer

Something in me has shifted. I think I’m a fan of summer. When did that happen? I’ve always been more of an autumn kind of girl. My heart just matches the season of fall. It always has. I love the cooler temps, and the patchwork of oranges, reds, and yellows you see while driving down the road in October. I especially love hiking trails covered up and almost hidden by a layer of crunchy leaves. These are my favorite things nature has to offer.

I’ve never been a fan of the hot humid days of an Alabama summer. And I hate the beach, with the hot HOT sun bearing down on you while you sit in the sand. And good lord…the sand. That stuff is just gross! Yes. I’d much rather be tucked away somewhere on a cold foggy mountain, than to be on a hot beach. Any. Day.

My heart does not match summer. I am always happy to see it go. Always. And yet…here I am in early August, a time when I normally rejoice because September is right around the corner, and my heart is breaking because, for our family, summer is over.

Maybe it’s because my babies love summer so much. Or maybe it’s the fact that Benji is going back to school tomorrow. I don’t know. But in spite of all the things I hate about summer, today I am truly sad to see it go. I’ve been in a funk over it all weekend. I’ve been trying to soak up every last minute of it. Trying to hang on. Slow time. Anything. I just don’t want it to go. Sigh. But it must. We’ve finally arrived at the end. So to say goodbye to this wonderful season, here’s a cheesy little love letter to summer (pictures included, duh).

Summer, you were good to us. Thank you for the bounty of bugs you brought to us. Watching my little boy chase one creepy crawly after another, with a huge smile on his face, and hair flapping in the wind…well, it lit me up. Thank you for the heat, which always made me see my childrens’ father in them: their tiny frames drenched in sweat, with deep rosy red cheeks. Thank you for the sun-kissed skin you gave to all of us. Thank you for the humidity, which made me daughter’s little curly curls really come to life. Thank you for frogs, and for picnics in the backyard. Thank you for visits with friends, old and new alike. Thank you for evenings spent barefoot in the backyard, watching the kids delight in each other and our trampoline. Thank you for the rainstorms that always seemed to creep up at the perfect time: nap time! Thank you for all of these “little” things. Yes. But most importantly thank you for the gift of time. The gift of being able to wake up each morning, with nothing on our plates, and a whole day ahead of us. The gift of just being together. It really was wonderful.

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The Allergy Monster

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It has been about three weeks since our visit with the allergy doctor.  To my surprise, Snowflake did great, and even seemed to have fun during her appointment! I expected her to cry since the appointment would involve being scratched by complete strangers (doesn’t that sound like fun?!). She didn’t shed a single tear though. I was very impressed by her. Our suspicions were confirmed – she is indeed allergic to cats and dogs. Sad face.

After talking it over with the allergist, we decided not to test her for food allergies. He said the scratch test for foods at this age is really unreliable and that we would probably know if she was allergic to certain foods, as food allergies try to kill you ;-) He said she may have some intolerances (like dairy), but nothing dangerous. Phew. That made me feel better. He also said the mosquito bite reactions were nothing to worry about. He said since she was having localized reactions, and no facial swelling, we were safe. No risk of anaphylaxis here! Hallelujah!

He prescribed her some medications, and then we were on our way home. The daily regimen was to include 1/2 teaspoon of Zyrtec twice a day and some steroid cream. He also prescribed another medication for whenever she is bitten by a mosquito. I bought everything except the mosquito medicine because it was hella expensive. That’ll just have to wait a month or two. For now we’re bathing her in California Baby bug spray anytime we go outside. It smells awful – she smells like a lemon dipped in citronella with it on – but it works!

We decided to only use the steroid cream on an “as needed” basis. After reading through the potential side effects, I just do not feel comfortable using it every day. We decided to only apply it whenever she is having a severe reaction (aka: bleeding rashes). We put coconut, lavendar, and melrose oils on her to manage the in-between-reactions stage. Desitin also seems to help, which is kind of weird. We started the daily doses of Zyrtec a couple of days after her appointment.

Fast forward to earlier this week. Em had been a diva-monster-girl for what seemed like forever. For a little over two weeks, day in and day out, it was nothing but crying, whining, and tantrums from her. I get that a certain level of those things are normal for this age, but seriously…if we were at home and she wasn’t being read to or taught something, she was PISSED and letting everyone know about it.  She was even being a little booger butt when we were outside of the home (this is not the usual for her). Grocery store trips had become a nightmare. We went out to eat once during this period and she threw down the entire time.

Exhibit A (she acted like this the entire time we were there)

Exhibit B (happy while being read to, but fussing if you stopped…this was ALL day)

She was not herself. And it wasn’t just because of the grumpies either. She was also showing hardly any physical affection at all. This little darling is extremely affectionate and loves to randomly hug, kiss, lay her head on you, etc. She wasn’t doing any of that! She also seemed to be tired all the time.

At first, I thought maybe we were just entering the terrible twos early. I kept that mindset for about two weeks, until one morning earlier this week, when I was giving her a dose of Zyrtec. She was fussing. AGAIN. I was exhausted, and feeling defeated. I didn’t want to go through another day with her being like that. It was demanding, and tiring, and I really just missed my cuddle bug. I gave her the dose, all the while wondering what had happened to my sweet girl. Almost immediately after I gave her the medicine, I realized what had happened to her.  The freaking Zyrtec. Her behavior changed exactly when the daily doses started. It was so clear. I still can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!

That was the last dose we gave her, and I am happy to report that the Allergy Monster has officially left the building. No more Ms. Grumpy Pants. THANK GOD. Sweet Em returned to us about 24 hours after the last dose. Crazy, right? I am so relieved that we realized what the problem was and that it had a solution. I’m not sure why the Zyrtec was affecting her in that way. We think maybe it was just making her tired or something? Who knows, but no more Zyrtec for us!

Now we are just trying to find a new home for Emmy, our cat. Em’s allergies are so bad, that she doesn’t even have to touch Emmy to react to her. Just the pet dander around our home is causing her to break out in rashes. I had hoped that finding Emmy a new home would be easy, but so far it hasn’t been. She is 13 years old, and I guess people just aren’t all that interested in older cats. I’ve had two people contact me about her, but one sketched out on me and the other had five dogs and a doggy door. Emmy would run for the hills in that scenario, and since she is declawed, getting outside could endanger her life. So that was a no. Sigh. I’m just posting about her online every day for now. Hopefully someone will take her in soon – until then, Em will have to be an itchy miserable mess because of her reactions :(

But the good news is that at least she’s smiling again!

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