“that mom”

I love that I can be having a perfectly normal day, and out of nowhere I look at Avery, and my heart literally feels like it’s going burst out of my chest.  No one warned me about these moments.  That’s what’s amazing about them.  They happen completely out of the blue.  She can be sleeping in her crib, and I go in to check on her, and she just looks so damn peaceful that BOOM. Heart explosion.  It’s all just so much more than I expected.  Yes, I knew I would be crazy in love with my daughter but I didn’t think I would turn into one of “those moms”.  There’s a chance this post might offend some mothers who are “those moms” but try to remember that I am waving the white flag and totally surrendering to the fact that I am “that mom” right along with you.

I always HATED the phrase, “You don’t understand until you’re a mother”.  I always rolled my eyes and thought, “I obviously DO understand that a mother loves her child”.  I HATED that Facebook moms felt the need to post photos every single day of their kid, and update us all on how potty training is going.  I always thought, “NO ONE CARES,”  but at the same time I was posting photos from my weekend spent at a bar somewhere, making silly faces and not caring about a thing.  Now I realize those moms probably saw my photos and thought, “NO ONE CARES!” It’s so funny, in hindsight.  Living in a social media crazed world, we just post about what we love and where we are and what we are doing.  I always told myself I wouldn’t be “that mom” that shared my daughter’s first EVERYTHING, but fuck it I know I will.  I didn’t understand before, because I wasn’t a mother.  When your entire world revolves around the tiny human that you made, what do you expect?  Granted, I do share other things, but I have struggled with feeling like I’m annoying people with my posts about my own daughter.  I actually just discovered about a month ago that someone I was friends with in high school recently deleted me from Facebook.  I don’t know why I let this bother me for as long as it did.  He isn’t anywhere close to where I am in life.  He is traveling, working on his career, partying and being a single 20 something guy.  I’m being a mom still figuring out how to balance my daughter, my career, and my social life.  We pretty much have nothing in common anymore, but it still hurt my feelings.  That’s when I realized I’m “that mom”.  I wanted to message him and say, “Why did you delete me?  Don’t you realize you are missing photos of my cute baby?!  SHE’S THE CUTEST BABY IN THE WORLD ARE YOU CRAZY AND ALSO I AM NOT A REGULAR MOM IM A COOL MOM OKAY?!”  I’m insane.  I know.  Instead of sending him that and making myself look batshit crazy, I decided it’s best if people who don’t want to see this part of my life delete me.  Yall know I’m not about negativity.  No, I don’t give a shit about his slice of pizza he’s eating at 3 am after leaving the club but I wasn’t going to delete him for it.  So after he did me this favor of deleting me I decided to not give a shit if people actually want to see what I post.  I don’t enjoy that every time I open Facebook someone is sharing an overweight guy dancing in a tiny pair of panties, but there it is!  People have a weird sense of humor I swear.  Anyway, I will continue to post photos of the one thing I love more than anyone or anything because she is cute as hell.  I will probably be “that mom” right up til I’m “that grandma” with my phone in your face showing you 50 pictures that are basically all alike.  Get over it.




Some of you reading this may know me, but a lot of you will not.  I know you’re used to reading the uncensored writing of Bay, but today you’re getting me.  When I approached Bailey with my idea to switch blogs for this post, she said and I quote, “BUUUUT can I say f*@#?”  My first inclination was to worry… What will the people who read my blog think?  Then I remembered that for at least the last three blogs I’ve published, someone has gotten mad at me, and I didn’t say any of those four letter words.  The only intention of anything I’ve written, was to share what I’m going through and hopefully help someone else.  After every single one of those blogs that I wrote, someone has texted, called, or messaged me to say how much it spoke to them.  I have to believe it matters.  As a matter of fact as I was working on this blog I had pretty much decided this would be the last one that I would be writing.  I went out to the mailbox that day to check my mail and found this little note inside.


Anywho…  So back to the dilemma of the “F” word and my so-called Christian blog.  I say so-called because a lot of people like to point fingers, and say you’re not a Christian because you do this, or that wrong.  I always thought a Christian is someone who recognizes that they are not perfect and that they need a savior.  Instead of saying God I don’t need to change, I don’t need your help, they hit their knees and beg him to change their heart.  Unless you’re kneeling beside me(any of you are welcome to) and can physically hear what’s going on inside of my soul between God and this hot mess that is me, please stop throwing those stones my way.  I have to admit that I say things I’d rather not on most days.  Do I think it’s ok to cuss like a sailor?  Probably not…  some days though I have a real hard time not jumping on board a pirate ship and sailing away into the land of profanity.

So… Who am I to tell her how to write?  I’ve read everything she’s written, and loved every word.(even the curse words)  She writes just like I do, from a heart that’s been cracked open, ripped to shreds, sewn back together and then shattered into a million tiny pieces all over again.  As I sit here typing out these words for you, I can’t help but think about the similar paths our lives have taken.  We actually shared the same last name for a few years.  In the past year if she hadn’t been able to tell me that everything I was feeling was perfectly normal and promise me that it would get better with time, honestly I don’t know if I’d still be here to write for y’all.

If I sat down and made a list of all the bad things that I’ve faced in my life, you know what would happen? I DO! I would end up depressed, and feeling broken all over again.  Some of the things on my list are public knowledge, but others I’ve never had the want or need to share with anyone.  We could always dwell on the hurt and pain of the past, and I’ve been stuck in that place for quite some time.  Just when I feel like I’m gaining ground, I’m sucked back into what feels like quicksand made out of self pity and doubt. I swear my mind literally plays tricks on me.  If Bay were helping me write this I think she would say, “Do your best to let that crap go!(she wouldn’t say crap)  Suck it up buttercup!  Life keeps on movin’ even when you choose to stand still.”


If we’re being honest, I’ve been standing still or occasionally moving at turtle speed.  It was a pretty rough last few days.  I had no idea what to do.  I’d been begging God to change my heart, heal the anxiety, send some encouragement or anything.  I am sometimes a little impatient, a shocker, I know.  I reached out to a few people and it didn’t go the way I hoped.  I found myself begging God for just a little hope.  I stood in the bathroom at work this morning and watched a single tear roll slowly down my cheek.  I said, “Well God, are you gonna catch that one?”

Psalm 56:8- “You keep track of all my wanderings.  You have collected my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded them in your book.”

For a while now, I haven’t felt like myself.  So much so that I don’t know how to get back to the person I was proud to be.  Today I found encouragement just when I thought there was no hope.  A friend sent me words that she uses to stop fear from taking hold.  She said, “Don’t let fear rob you of a blessing.”







It starts with a little fear and before I know it I’ve let my mind carry me off into a full blown freak out.  I heard someone say tonight, “If you allow it to take hold, fear of what if, will poison your relationships.”  I’m hoping that I didn’t realize this little fact too late.  I’m hoping that I can drop all the baggage and just trust again.  It may not always look like it on the outside, but I am trying.  The next time I write it will be a happy blog.  No more of this feeling sorry for myself.  I’m making the decision today that whether I have little or I have a lot, I will be content.  I will force myself look up and smile, instead of hanging my head and trying to pass through life unseen.


I’ve spent way too much time fearing what could happen… Today I’m going to start counting my blessings instead of my sorrows!

  1. I still have faith.  Although it may be damaged and small at the moment, it’s still there.
  2. I have an amazing man who loves me.  He never tells me I can’t do something.  He pushes me to be better for me, and for the life we want to have together.
  3. One of the greatest things that has happened in my life, is that now there are these two little ones who don’t hesitate to say, “I love you” to me.  I never expected to be dating anyone EVER again, and sure didn’t anticipate the chance to be a role model for them.(not really sure what to call myself, hence “role model”)
  4. I have a career!!! Me! At 33 years of age, I feel like I’m just getting started in life.  I didn’t just get a job.  I work in an office that I fit perfectly in.
  5. We have traveled more in the last 6 months, than in my whole life combined.  I’m pretty sure I have what some call wanderlust.
  6. I’m officially a staff member for one of my favorite charities.  I love helping people!  I love that I get to do that, and I no longer have to feel guilty for it.
  7. I went from seeing my family on holidays to being able to say, “Hey let’s go see my mom, sister, etc.” No questions asked we make the hour drive as soon as possible.
  8. While there are a lot of people, who just don’t “get me”, there are a few who really do.  They know when to call, how to encourage, and they try to be there.  Just be there.DSC_0031.jpg
  9. I know it may not seem like a blessing to some of you that I have the ability to write.  Honestly, it’s one of the only ways I can work through things sometimes.  I swear I’m not normal.  The thoughts in my head come together like the pages of a book.  They are worded like a very well written novel.  The only way to let them go, is to put them down on a page.
  10.  Music.  Almost any kind of music, makes my heart happy.

These are just a few.  It’s 11 P.M. and I was supposed to be asleep by now.  I’ve been trying so hard to finish this post for days now.  I’m going to end it by challenging each of you to share this blog, along with a list like the one above.  Sometimes life is hard.  Sometimes life is really hard.  Scratch that.  Sometimes life is terrifying, sad, lonely, and well… HARD.  I, for one know it would benefit me to spend more time remembering the good things in my life.  How about you?

To read HER words on MY blog, visit fatgirlinlittlecoatblog