and so it begins...

Lately it seems that when things are put on my plate, I just do them.  Not that I was ever opposed to getting "things" done, it's just I would be lying if I didn't admit here that I like the acknowledgment of having accomplished it, and well.  It appears I exude this self confidence, a confidence that is very loud, so loud that, "she'll be okay", is my opponents mantra.  I have an incredible ability to camouflage well.  I have an incredible ability to never say no, and these two combinations my friends, are a horrific combination.  Do you know anyone like this?  Well...you do now.  We are surrounded by predators.  Predators of the emotional appetite.  Their hunger comes in many forms.  And these predators ability to hide their underlying intent is almost as incredible an ability as mine is to facilitate their arrival at the dinner table.  I don't own any self defense weapons, nor do I pretend to know what any of the sort would be.  Marcus has a gun, so technically, when the "what's mine is yours and yours is mine" sings in acapella in the background, I guess I could say it's mine also, but whatevs.  He took me a while back, a real while back to shoot, at a range.  And knowing my personality, I thought I would be a badass, a real BAD ASS.  A few instructions on the hand gun, and I was off.  I was a hot mess, never opened my eyes, at least not where the aiming, shooting and pulling the trigger was concerned, but other than that, my eyes were lit open.  Translation: I sucked.  Couldn't shoot the target, much less the paper it was attached too...when it was 3 feet in front of me. I guess you could say that in literal forms of aim, point and shoot are concerned, I am not your typical success story, but listen closely folks, my success comes in other forms, and my ownership in hitting that target is unmeasurable.  So unmeasurable, that tracks in the objective form don't exist, and you will live out, fatigued in your attempt to solve what is my ability to camo up.   You see, you are not the only one with an appetite.  I have one too, we all do, and you should be awful thankful that it's my emotional appetite that is of the stronger will, because if we were speaking in regards to the appetite south of my breasts, you'd be toast. 

We're moved in.

We're moved in, somewhat.

We're moved in, somewhat, enough to have people over.

Since we have a pool, it's time to learn to use it, the right way.  This place is year round, with indoor swimming, LOVE.

We closed, duh, and this is the second time we've used them, and they are fabu.

De-cristen the pool time, and Labor Day was calling.  Did I also mention that it was our move in weekend, we are relentless.

This little fool started his second year of pre-school, and his first year at this place. Courtesy of this woman and her wonderful recommendation.

The best thing about my friend's are their love for my little family, especially when all things Adan are concerned.  Paige just loves Adan, and I'd be lying if I said he didn't love her back.

and then sometimes we...

I hadn't realized how long it was since visiting my little place here, until someone pointed out this weekend that they haven't read lately because I hadn't posted it on Facebook, then I realized that the reason I hadn't posted on Facebook was because I hadn't even posted on my dear blog.  I have been so far removed from this place that not visiting it has caused me to forget where I had left off.  Luckily for me, and for you, there's a record and it appears the reason that I have been MIA is because I have been MIA, literally.  We have moved from Arlington, found amazing tenants, and...We. Are. Landlords.  Have found a home, and were supposed to move in on the 15th, but had to move it back to the 30th, tick tok tick tok...that's me waiting, and quite honestly the sound resonating in my brain these days.  A long time ago, I remember learning somewhere that when you pray for patience, God doesn't just gift it, you have to earn it only after you experience what it really means, and until you do, you will live in it...the process.  My entire life has been the process, and somehow I feel like this move is my test, the big final exam.  I think I'm doing magnificent.  And I think this is the appropriate segway for story time.  Don't you?  We originally wanted 75243, New Lakehighlands with the RISD swag, but couldn't find a house we both agreed on, so we moved a bit south, 75238, and again, we couldn't agree on a house, we did not want to "remake" anything.  We redid the house in Arlington, and I use the word "we" here in place of Marcus, because you all know I'm good for nothing, and he is good for everything.  Anything that was aesthetically ugly, was out, we couldn't look past the "dated" look and completely "nexted" everything.  Marcus has always wanted 75218, behind Easton, and well, I would search and couldn't find the sqft'age we wanted.  So in a moment of urgency, somehow I was able to inform our realtor that we saw a few online and would be willing to go in person to see them.  We did our usual drivebys the day before and got turned around, and as we were uturning we saw it.  OUR HOUSE. We both were in awe, wondering why it didn't come up as an option for us, got out, pulled the info sheet, for certain it was not showing because it was over our budget...and low and behold, it was not.  Turns out it was a for sale by owner, and that is why we never saw it.  Went the very next day, the first of 7 viewings, and were sold the second we walked in.  And now, we await the closing.  So happy.  So lucky.  So blessed.  So thankful. 

It seems that the gap in time between my last appearance here has been an indication of many things.  I had a reader/friend tell me once how vague I sometimes am when I write, and that it appears I have many secrets, and how she wanted so badly to know what it was I was referring to.  I never realized that I did that.  I guess the filter, the only filter I have, is the finger prints on my digits.  The lack of filter in my mouth, of which I've mentioned before, appears to be the gate keeper to information.  I guess it's a good thing that this here blog doesn't have the audible option.  Good for me anyway.

I am still struggling with my weight.  My sister Lori has officially returned to the size she was in high school.  A size 6.  She really is a 4, but she's being modest, she always has been when her body was concerned.  Look, not to boast, but I have always been the pretty one, she was always the skinny one and Sally was always the smart one.  My daddy would say, "no, all my girls are pretty", and quite frankly, I'm not unintentionally boasting, I'm actually doing it on purpose, somebody needs to brag about me.  Sally, still smart.  Lori, well, she is in fact skinny, again.  And me, underneath the 50lbs that so badly want to come off, is one pretty ass woman.  I think I have officially become that woman people talk about, you know the one, "Man, if she was skinny, she'd be so pretty, she has such a pretty face".  I have just finished the 50 Shades series, pretty good book, for many reasons, but mostly because I fancied the way I felt when reading it.  No, I didn't need a chux pad and no, I wasn't reaching for the nearest towel, but I noticed that the reader has a soft place in her heart for the underdog.  I quickly realized how much I related to Anastasia, and how she views Christian...well, that's the way I continue to view Marcus.  Just the other day, as we were getting ready to go out, I wanted so badly for him to grab a vneck tee, because the way his necklace chain plays peek a boo with the collar drives me crazy, how the neck that supports his beautiful face not only controls the direction in which he looks, but is in so much control over the direction in which my libido goes.  How he never really dries himself when he gets out of the shower, and lets the air naturally erase the wetness from his body...lucky wind.  I still find myself staring at him like I did when I first laid eyes on him.  I was talking with my parents just yesterday about how sleeping arrangements the older you get can change.  I asked my parents if they still have sex, and they both said, almost in synchrony, "ssssssiiiiii, es mas, orita nos vamos a banar para aserlo" (translate that, and I promise you a laugh).  You see, they don't sleep in the same bed anymore, or room for that matter.  That's the secret they say.  My dad has been a snorer forever, and whenever we children left, my momma finally had two rooms to choose from, that would be far enough from him that she could actually sleep.  And they haven't slept together since.  They are bed shopping and I told them to buy a king so they could sleep together again, and they both said again, almost in synchrony, "nnnnnnnnooooooooooo".  Told us, that we will be there too, in separate beds.  I welcome advice always, don't have to necessarily take it to heart, but age has brought many life experiences, and they have had that, but the idea of not sleeping with my husband at night makes me sad, and I hope that is one piece of advice I never follow.



Golfing with daddy...I know that you know that I know, how much they enjoy this

One of the best things about being back in the Big D, making memories like this for Adan that I had with my folks

Richie and Alison moved in together, which can only mean one thing...HOUSEWARMING PARTY!!!

A reunion that was way past due

Friday Funight with these crazy nurses...God love em, cause you know I do

in due time...

I had started typing last night and had gotten awful deep regarding what was on my mind the past few weeks and what has ultimately kept me from getting on here, and sleep got the best of me, and it became a draft.  I opened it this evening, only to find that where I had left off was the corner of depressing and get it off my chest 'ville.  That wasn't a good place last night, and it sure as hell isn't a good place this evening.  Honestly hasn't been a good place the last few weeks.  The long and short of it is, that my heart is jacking up again, and 28 years later, I find myself looking reality, true life griping reality in the face.  Marcus and I have decided to put a halt on baby making until we know for sure what this means.  I have seen my doctor, and have survived a pediatric MRI table, courtesy of Valium, thanks Dr. Forbess, an echo and now a pending stress test, and a follow up appointment that will soon feel the tank of what is my endless questions that is my future.  I never thought I would be here.  I am not here, am I?  Am I really in this place?  I now get why denial is visited often, and I am comfortable here.  I like the rivers ability to carry me and my ability to let it.  The fact is, I am not okay.  I find myself crying at work in my patient's room.  I find myself nearly getting in a wreck as I drive to work, because my mind gets the "what ifs" better of me.  I love my husband and son so much.  The idea that I can't be my 100% available self to them is not fair. 

In the midst of all this new information, my husband walked into our home about a month ago and was mad.  MAD.  Mad because we live in Arlington, and he decided we were done living here.  We spend crazy money on gas, about as much as the average American spends on a mortgage, and we are so over it.  It's been almost 4 years of the commute and we are done.  We will not sell our house, we will keep it, rent it out, and just buy a new one.  We have an amazing realtor, and she is on board, patient, kind and loving, and we are lucky to have her.  Here we come Lake Highlands.

I am addicted to food.  Nothing new I know, but I mean, really addicted.  Not the kind of addicted that a skinny bitch standing at the veggie tray spouts out as she sips her skinny girl margarita either.  I mean, really addicted.  I think about food like an addict who is salivating at the idea of his or her next hit, I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling wondering, imaging, dreaming about what I can put in my mouth.  I never get full.  I can't say that I have ever been full.  I can eat and eat and eat and eat, and then eat some more.  After I eat, I walk by the table, and have what I like to call "the rhetoric" in my head, and it goes a little like this..."don't look at it, keep walking, you just ate, your such a fat ass..."  It's disgusting.  I am disgusting.  I have poisoned my body into thinking that food is THE satisfaction.  The ONLY satisfaction.  I can't believe that I have trashed my body like I have.  I pray to God for help, but do I really want the help?  I remember hearing an overweight woman, a gorgeous woman mind you, I mean so pretty.  She talked about her marriage, and how she wasn't this size when she got married, and how she put on weight over the years, and now feels like she can't lose weight because inside she fears what would happen if she did.  She voiced the reservations she had about her marriage, and how if she was thin, again, she would be afraid of what kind of wife she would then become.  Could she still be that faithful, loving wife?  Would she still dote on her husband and keep him on the pedestal that he lives on?  And quite honestly, I completely related to her as she spoke.  Or was I, am I, just looking for a reason to be the way I am?  I want to feel confident again.  And unfortunately, the kind of confident I want again, is the kind of confident that I got as I got dressed, any kind of dressed.  Now I find myself living in stretchy shit.  Can I get a grip please?  You know, people talk about self control like it's a wash.  Like self control isn't the key to success, but life change is.  Well, I quite honestly think that life change doesn't even begin to work, unless you take control of that self control.  And the demon inside me always wins, I just wish that I had a Manzo daddy to buy me the lap band.  Bastard.

Mother's Day...came and went, and in case your wondering who this glorious woman is...she is my momma.  I love her so much it hurts me.  I remember telling her how I hope that I don't live to see her die (in other words, I always wanted to die first because I couldn't bear the thought of losing her), and now we talk about how it's her love for me that I now get why I'm okay with her going first, because she used to rebut my ignorant comment with "no, you're my baby, I couldn't bear it", and now that I have Adan...I agree!

Well, the quadpod, as Paige likes to call it, was together again, after a few years of separation, and it was all because sweet Madison had a birthday.  She taught us oldies a few things, and one very important one...I am old, and can't hang like I used to.

These little boys could very well be the future of our country, and we celebrated Memorial day with a few of their parents/grandparents who have either already served, or are currently serving...we love you because you loved your country enough to serve then, and continue to do so now.

CICU's Friday Funight kicked off it's event with a dinner at The Vick and then a dranky dance at JBlacks.  It's safe to say it was a good turn out, quality versus quantity outnumbered here folks.

We went to the Zoo, can you tell?

Adan.  He is fantastic.  He will help me conquer my addiction and help me be the mommy he so deserves.

well, somebody had to say it...

Getting a taste of something so good and having the opportunity to relish in the flavor, remember the marination and reflect on the taste is a pretty awesome gift.  I have had a feeling of inadequacy lately regarding my abilities as a woman.  To be perfectly honest, the quo of what we are supposed to be and who we are fullfilled in becoming aren't synonymous in my thinking personally.  I can remember being a little girl and thinking about what it would be like to be older, but not really knowing what it meant.  I knew that when you grow up, you become responsible and so forth, but I just never thought that I was really capable of "feeling" it.  I have been exposed to this audible surrounding.  That surrounding at times echos loudly the opinions of who that woman should be.  Recently personal experiences have purchased a stake in my heart that twists and enters at just the right angle.  The love that I know I have in my life however, tends to plug up its ability to bleed, and for that I am grateful.  I am so lucky to be in the place that I am, married to a wonderful man and we have this amazing boy.  But I am faced with the question...of it being enough?  Is it enough to be married and to mother Adan?  The truth is, I always wanted to be married, I always wanted a boyfriend, I have always wanted love in the way that I have it now, but the mother part has been a struggle to adjust to.  For the past 3 years, motherhood has been a reality that is just now sincerely sinking in.  And the saity of motherhood tastes so good, that I'm often taken back to when I was pregnant, desiring it again.  Many of you don't know this, but my pregnancy wasn't a lullaby, I was nauseous all day every day, and vomited consistently for about 16 weeks straight, all day, NO LIE.  It was truly unbearable, but like most things worth waiting for, this wasn't any different and completely worth it.  I didn't really realize how invested women are in their futures when it comes to family planning, until I became one of them.  I often wonder if nature versus nurture not only applies, in my opinion of course, to sexual orientation or also to the many plagued life choices that women specifically are faced with.  When dropping Adan off at school, other mothers of kiddies his age are either pregnant or new mothers again, and my reflection in them is so inadequate that I'm left feeling dissatisfied.  That dissatisfaction is unrecognizable in it's origin though.  I know that there is a plan for my family, and even though I am not with child now, is my son enough?  If he was it for me, I think I would be okay, more than okay.  That feeling of doubt inside, the one I hold on to, I'm not quite sure it is birthed organically, and I'm not convinced that it solely belongs to me, but purchased at the buffet table of "what little girls should be when they grow up".  The taste in my mouth is yearning for second helpings, but I'm waiting for the ability to leave the table knowing that what I have may just have to be it.  I don't know about you, but these days I count my blessings because I know that they are all gifts and recognize that as easily as they are received, they may just as quickly vanish.  Three years ago on May 14th, my life changed forever, and celebrating his life is a reminder of just how purposed my life really is...just as it is.

Food...of which there was plenty

Sesame Street was the theme, did you guess?

I think I'm getting better every year...

Adan's guests...then ending the party with a birthday bonfire

We had so much fun, and I've mentioned before how lucky I feel to be with Adan every single day, and how lucky sometimes I'm not because I feel totally unavailable emotionally to him because I'm tired all the time, well...I made a promise to myself, that I would always make his birthdays special and do all the work, so he would know that momma made all the things he loves on his special day.  Again, my obvious helper is always Pinterest, duh, but specifically the idea was birthed here, and then this place was my staple for the pastries...the cupcakes and blow out candle cake. 

this small piece of information is always left out...

I'm pretty overdue, again, and didn't realize how much until I logged on and realized that it had been in the beginning of April since I had posted last.  I remember posting a while back that this blogging thing didn't need an official rule regarding what to post and when to post, however, my tune is changing, and I think it is time to dedicate a certain time to write, because if not then I will be so backed up it will cause me pains.  The kind of pains I'm experiencing now, physical pains, in my belly.  I have been trying to make poo poo for a week or so now, and although success is truly in the eye of the beholder, a form of the constipation has surfaced, but I feel a true turd brewing, and the anticipation is killing me.  I chugged a shot of prune juice this morning in hopes...of...but again, total let down.  Oh well, I musn't rush these things, I incessantly ask God to help me with patience, and maybe this is the climax of our private class time.

I have had a pretty busy month, relatively, I mean some peoples busy is another persons lazy, and let's face it, we all know how lazy I am, so basically I have been pretty mediocre this month.  With that said, after Easter, Marcus and I decided that mediocre regarding our finances isn't the way to live, any longer...emphasis on the any longer.  We both make way too much money to be living the way we do.  Our savings account should be 30 Gs deep, and let's just say that IT AIN'T.  Marcus handles our money, and he is spreadsheet happy, and has had our budget in check forever, but as most, we don't really follow it, and are swipe happy.  We decided to do "cash envelopes", in theory of course, because who has envelopes anymore?  I mean everything is electronic these days, sheesh.  Except for when we actually followed through on the plan, sweet Marcus put a clip around the remaining grocery money and looked at me all defeated, kinda like those puppies when they head nod stare at you.  Well, he looked at me and said, "sorry, I couldn't find any envelopes", lol, I was dying inside, he is too much.  Not so much because he was sweet enough to think we actually needed the envelopes to be OFFICIAL, or because he was looking forward to labeling each one "groceries", "gas", "extras", but because just as a dog owner would scratch those ears and caudal their pet in observation of the head nod, I too followed suit, except my pet was Marcus and it was more of a tush pinch, slap on the butt kinda thing, just sayn.  Truth it and behold it, right?  Testimony time.  No?  Just me?   Too bad, your gonna hear it anyways.  Marcus is handy, beyond handy, I'm not gonna bore you again with how so, but needless to say, he had someone give him a lawn mower a while back because it was broken, it was aesthetically new looking just not working.  He fixed it, like he does everything, and has been trying to sell it, about as aggressively as putting a sign on it and pushing it on the lawn...no, seriously.  And it hasn't.  About the only discipline that we have regarding money is our tythe.  It is the first check we write always, right off the bat, right off the top.  However again, discipline with the remaining is a joke, A BIG FAT UGLY OVERWEIGHT JOKE.  On that note, why do I always reference the fat?  Anyways, immediately after Easter, we planned on starting the cash envelopes, but didn't.  Two weeks later, we actually did, and we are just shy of completing the last few days of those two weeks.  Like most normal people, I hope, when you budget expenses you allow for "extras" like getting a flat, and having to buy a new tire, or a large ER copay, etc...  And we did, but went over, and had to shuffle our grocery money to make it, and we have enough left over and would have been fine, but the good Lord sometimes just needs to show up, and He did.  I got home from my moms this evening, and as I pulled up I saw that dang lawn mower sitting on the lawn.  I go in, take a shower and walk outside looking for my boys, and see them walking up, and I tell Marcus, "you know, if you really wanted to sell that, you should really think about putting it on Craigs List", and he agreed of course, because I'm always right.  Just kidding.  We come in, BBQ up some steaks and he walks in to get more of them from thawing out, taking extra long.  He walks out and says, "man, God is so good", and I'm all like, "duh".  He was taking so long because someone bought the lawn mower, and he was so happy.  As was I, because we were just discussing how we were cutting it close with the cash, and how we really didn't want to have to move anything into checking that we had already put into savings.  On that note, does anyone else pay themselves first?  The bigger lesson for me wasn't the fact that God provided in the clinch, or that when you give to God first (i.e.. tythe), He will always bless you, or that I had just spoken the Craigs List statement, and He was all "shoot, you don't need Craigs List, I am Craig"...it was more of the fact that even though we are always responsible with tything, we are not always responsible with the remaining money He gives us, and these two weeks we were, almost as if to say "hey, I gotcha, good job".  Take it as you want, read it and shrug it off, but I believe in the non cosmic, non coincidental, always purposeful, holy and ever present supplier that is my God.

My husband, working it

Overdue seems to be the theme these days, and this tree had it coming

Safety first, at least that's what Dora says

I was dying...simply dying

Paige is the best...can't get better friends than her

Three days later, and intense instruction following...viola

One mans face paint...

...is another girls birthday...

...and this boys chance to eat cake

DAI's first annual 3v3 bball

So Proud

pull it off...

So many of the most overused phrases around have been formulating road blocks in my mind.  Those cliches that make the eye roll, the ones that make you gag a bit when you hear them have been buying up all kinds of stock in my brain.  My confidence is quite the curve ball.  It often depends on what mood I'm in, and who I am surrounded with.  Definitely not something that I care to admit, but a little to late to state any different.  To give somebody or some situation that much control over my questionable happiness is a trait I believe worthy of screaming about, the kind of scream that leaves not only your mouth, but wishfully your soul all the same.  I have been trying for sometime to be happy all by myself.  One way or another we are going to face the nemesis we like to call the alter, that ego we frequent when we don't want to reveal who we just might really be.  Do you ever live there, in those moments of turning emotionally into somebody else because it is easier to expel yourself and blame the raw organic existence on your alter ego?  I believe we visit this movement because it is more appealing to have a cattiness with self, than to actually face the present life experience.  Sometimes simplicity and generosity run purposefully close.  Happiness should grow on the back of intention, resolving our own improper use of guilt.  I'm not quite convinced this is a good thing.  I'm quite ambivalent actually, but resolve myself to the possibility of admitting there might be a cluster of unaware safety nets, in the wrong place, vengefully awaiting to absolve me from my own boobie trap of ridicule.  But sometimes deciding to face the choice you made is only the result of not having anything else to think about.

I was so afraid the other morning.  I was afraid that I would commit to the above in the wrong way.  I prayed that as I sat at church Easter morning, the guilt that I had would be appropriately lifted, by my intent to be happy for He had risen.  That when I bowed my head in prayer to my Heavenly Father, it would be out of my hearts simple wish to be close to His ever growing, over flowing generous existence. Remember my epiphany at church at the end of last year?  Well, I found an even better way to share it.  Remember my specific request for a teacher as a pastor?  Well, I found an even better way to share what I mean when I say that teaching a congregation is an enormous responsibility and should be done by vividly explaining the scripture.  You will have to spare a little bit of time to understand fully, but it was at the end of this sermon when I felt the Holy Spirit tell me "nothing has changed".  And it hasn't, nothing has changed, we are still a people patiently waiting, the only thing that is different is the amount of time that has passed.

It was around minute 31:53 where I "oh'd" audibly, and was like, "nothing has changed, we are still waiting for His return" http://vimeo.com/33911318

Our church had planned two very large egg hunts, however the weather did not allow, and the sweet wet church ladies had to go and pick up all the eggs they had hidden because it started to rain as the service was ending...I quickly snatched a bag and handed the eggs out to our family, and Adan went to each of us for an egg treat...oh yea, and with all the extra time, he gave us the grand tour of his school...he was so happy to be the leader we followed

He seems to accommodate me often, and I just snap as often has he allows

After we shoved our faces with food, we shoved some eggs over heads

...and then we shoved eggs in our baskets





 



i haven't a clue, so we'll just say...

Frustration that comes with stress is telling of how well a person can take on the ability to actually walk tall, stand strong and live well.  Did that make sense?  Every time "something" happens to me, I have this conversation with myself regarding my right to grief or if I am worthy of solice for that moment.  Taking everything you are taught as a kid, and applying it as an adult will actually work, if we can relinquish our supposed maturity.  We aren't really grown unless we can revert back to the basics of what living really is.  Remember when waking up in the morning and walking to the kitchen table for breakfast was easy?  When getting dressed was not a hassle but something that you looked forward to because you were given the opportunity to actually pick it out?  Nothing has changed.  The only evolving that has taken place in this world is the growth of our egos and the emancipation of our sincerity, that was once very alive, however now hibernating in the emptiness of our once innocence.  I don't know what is worse.  Actually I do, and you do too.  We can't keep guiding the light of self indulgence and basking in the shade of ignorance.  There is nothing bliss about it.  There is something magnificent in my sons eyes when he surrenders to disciple and recognizes that what he has done was wrong.  When he realizes that feeling inside is guilt and acknowledes that emotion as the opportunity for remorse and yearns for reconciliation.  Why do we lose that?  I want to live in those moments.  I want to know that when I look somebody in the eyes and give them a piece of who I really am, my reimbursement will come not because I expect it, but because they too have a desire to share.  That innate gesture we have to be "kid like" is our own psyche requesting an honorable mention.  Let's embrace regression, for it's where I believe we desire to be, and where conquering our best living resides.

No clever segway here, just a few time stoppers into our best living a few weeks ago.  Below is what we've been up to and a type of regression that we always welcome when Adan's involved.

I was d'verginized of this tradition

Waiting patiently and tolerating my "clicks"

Can't say enough

I wonder if, no, probably not 

About 3 months late, but we'll take a Christmas present from Aunt Paige anytime

My sister and brother in law are sick over their kids, and will do just about anything for them, not to mention host some of the funnest parties...lucky for them and lucky for us because we get to go!!!

Maka got Lazer'd away

Adan surrendered nothing but laughs and giggles

Noah got Bowl'ly with it (give 'em a break, it was an action shot)

My new job has given me so much, more than I can really be grateful for, and one of the most amazing gifts has been new friends.  And the good kind too.

Lisa = the frequent use of the "f" bomb
Jennifer = you may know her as Ludacris or JLew

Rachel = kin folk
Brooke = "it's Brookie Bitch"

I'm officially a grown up, at least that is what my mom says.  She couldn't believe that she was actually meeting me at our church to see my sons first school/PE program.  She was in hysterical laughter over it, and between you and I, me too.

He's an entire head taller than his classmates

See what I mean...I am so proud

When we went to Houston a few weeks ago, I was begging Paige to tag along, because it had been years since the four of us had been together, well...last night, we sort of got the chance...

We bluetooth'd Ally from Paige's car last night, no...it is not funny to you, but it sure was to us

Today my Savior was crucified. 

Today was the day that He died for my sins. 

Today I will honor Him as I remember the love that He has for me still.