Monday, December 15, 2014

Losing My Hair

As I sit here typing, I'm thinking about how silly it is to be emotional about your hair.

But then I look in the mirror and who I see staring back at me is unrecognizable.

I'm bald.
And now I look like I have cancer. (That sounds bad to say, but we relate bald--especially women--to cancer patients.)

I feel ugly.
To me, I am ugly.

There are patches of little buzzed pieces of hair poking out of my scalp, which makes my head look even uglier. And, it looks like it's growing back darker, which makes it look even more worse than the already bad statement noted above.

It's darker and patchy.

It's growing back, but how many rounds of chemo before I get to keep it again?

Will I ever look the same?
Will it be the same texture?

Having longer hair or hair in general is related to being a woman. I can't help but feel less feminine.

When, if, I ever get back in the public eye--whether it be grocery shopping, pumping gas or eating at a restaurant--I know I will get looks from everyone. People will be staring at me like I have a giant stamp with the word "CANCER" on my forehead.

It's obvious now.
There is no hiding it.
I have cancer.

It's not something I'm ashamed of; it's just something I don't want to be identified by. I don't want to be "oh there's that girl who has cancer."

I'm still me. I know that I'm still Cass. But I'm afraid people won't see me like that, especially people I know. And honestly, it makes me nervous about seeing people I know again.

Everything about not having hair feels different. It feels different when my head rubs against my pillow. I sometimes feel these tiny little hairs poking my head. I never felt that before.

Even putting on my reading glasses to type this post, it's more difficult to put them on. They don't just slide on like they did when I had hair. It feels weird. It's not the same.

I never thought I'd have to shave my head, and if I did, I figured I'd go all Britney Spears 2007 kind of crazy and do it in a fit of rage. I guess I thought if I ever did it, I figured it'd be something exciting.

But never this.

And I never thought even through this process I'd say "shave it off."

But when it starts to fall out in clumps and you start seeing bald spots on your head, it becomes more of a want rather than just a need.

My short little haircut I got prior to shaving my head, only lasted that one day. It covered up a few bald spots on my head, but the next day after waking up my hair just kept falling out and was all over the place--on me, my clothes, my pillows, my bed. It was never ending.

And if I would have let it go like that a few more days it would have looked like Edward Scissorhands got a hold of my head. And we all know his cuts were a little strange.

Anyway, Klay and I decided that it'd be best to have Brody witness "the shaving." We hoped he'd let us give him a little buzz cut too, or that he'd want to shave my head, but he didn't want to do either of course.

Klay shaved his head first. He told me from day one of this leukemia crap that he was going to shave his head. Of course I said I didn't want him to, but he was going to do it anyway. It wouldn't be different than him getting his head shaved a boot camp years ago, so it didn't really matter that much to me.

Well, Chad, my sister's husband, actually shaved Klay's head for him.

When it was my turn, we told Brody that "Mommy was going to cut her hair short like Daddy's and Brody's."

And then Klay shaved mine.

All he seemed to ask was "where did your hair go?"

And I said "We cut it all off, so I could look like you and Daddy."

But he has acted fine with me before, during and after. He wasn't alarmed and still gave me hugs and loves.

The only thing that made me sad was the day before when I cut my hair short and he saw it, he said "mama, you're hair looks good." He liked my new haircut.

And nothing melts your heart more than your child giving you a compliment, especially on his own.

The only positive I can see out of this whole thing is that I still get to be that sweet, little boy's mommy. And I'm a mommy to a now 3 lb 15 oz little fella just a few floors above me.

There is nothing more that will keep me fighting this fight than those boys and my husband. I love all my men. And I will never stop fighting for them, whether I'm bald and ugly or not.

They might just have to deal with my ugly, bald self for a bit longer til things get better.

Sorry boys, just be glad I still have my teeth.


Friday, December 05, 2014

First Round of Chemo... CHECK

I still can't believe I'm saying that I have leukemia. It just doesn't seem real; and I was diagnosed
over 20 days ago.

I just finished my first full round of chemo on Tuesday which I suppose is somewhat exciting.

There were three different chemo treatments I was getting--two from an IV, using a port in my chest to not damage the smaller veins in my arms and hands, and then a pill that I'm supposed to take twice a day (my oral chemo).

One chemo is called Idarubicin. It would only be infused only for 30 minutes a day for three days.

I also had a continuous bag of Cytarabine that was infused for 24 hours for four days. Plus I had several other things being pumped through my body... antibiotics, prechemo meds, zofran, potassium etc. (With the Cytarbine I had do to two eye drops in each eye, four times daily because it can cause conjunctivitis.

The last was the medication is the oral chemo pills called Nexavar. They were 6400 bucks, which is crazy. Luckily our insurance covered it. I had to take two pills, two times daily for seven days. They are supposed to attack my bad FLT 3 mutation in my bone marrow.

So I had a lot of IVs hooked into me through my port and even my hand, and if I needed to go to the bathroom, I have push this little cart around so my fluids could stay running continuously. Fun stuff.

It's even more fun when air gets in the line or an infusion is complete and starts beeping super loudly over and over until a nurse walks in an fixes it, which over here could take up to 20 minutes or more.

We have found the "silence" button, but it only silences it for about a minute or so.

Now imagine having a whole bunch of fluids being shoved into your system and that pump beeping every few minutes all through the night--and literally as I'm typing this, it started beeping.

So I started chemo Monday night and finished all of IV chemo by Friday and the finally finished my oral chemo Tuesday, Dec. 2.

The first immediate side effect of chemo was the disgusting taste in my mouth. Water didn't taste right. It tasted salty. Nothing tastes good. Just recently things started to taste a little better and I'm able to tolerate Gatorade and water, and a few other things.

I have gotten sick a few times, but not too bad. Now things on the other end of my body have not been so pleasant.

And that hasn't been fun--having tummy issues. But mostly I've been really tired and now running fevers here and there, which they say is normal.

I am neutropenic; that's a fancy way of saying I'm prone to getting any infections really easy. So anyone who is sick, with a runny nose or cough or anything should come up here to visit me. In fact, they are reducing my visitors that I can have daily. So if I do know you, please do not just show up. I may be feeling terrible over the next week or so still and I may not want visitors or may not be able to have them.

Now that I'm done with my first round, I just basically have to sit around and wait. The chemo kills and wipes out everything--the good cells and the bad. So once my levels start to build back up, they will do another bone marrow biopsy to determine the next step (more chemo or a bone marrow transplant).

The truth is, I noticed last night my hair is starting fall out; that is a whole-other-emotion right there.

I mean I've always shed a lot of hair, so much so that I had to keep our Swiffer in our bathroom to do a quick sweep after I dried it. And normally that always led me to an impulse decision to wack it off at some point. But I always felt the shorter my hair, the fatter I look.

And it's definitely falling out today. It's not in clumps or anything, just lots of long strands of hair are everywhere.

Let me go back to the first few days of chemo.

It was my first round.
I've never done this before.
I was scared.
I was afraid.
I hated this new depressing building I'd been forced in to.
I missed my nurses in High Risk OB.
I missed my old room over on the fourth floor.
I missed my sons.
I missed my dogs.

Every time I heard the word chemo I'd cringe.
Every time they suited in their little suits with hazardous on the front I'd get a jolt to the stomach.
Every time I saw the yellow bags with the hazardous symbols on it, I'd begin to fall in to a stupor.
Every time I heard the words "I need someone to come check chemo, please," I thought 'this is the most depressing job on the face of the planet.'
Every time I heard the word "chemo" I'd get down and depressed.
Every time I'd hear some poor old person in the next room cough or get sick, I'd be sad for them.

By day 2 and 3 of chemo, I was at an emotional low. I was just down. I didn't want to get out of bed. I started having some tummy issues. Nothing was tasting good. I was losing my appetite.

I looked around at my family and felt bad for them. Bad that they'd have to watch me go through this, bad that they would watch my body begin to deteriorate before my counts would start to go back up.

We weren't sure what the side effects would be for me. I'm younger than most folks that get this so it all depends on how my body handles it.

Most side effects are:

  • nausea
  • vomiting
  • diarrhea
  • fevers
  • mouth sores 
  • hair loss
  • GI problems
  • heart problems
  • among many, many other things
I definitely have had the first four, but mostly the third one, and it's been brutal. There has been nothing quite like it.

So this past week I haven't really felt too well. I've had a low-grade fever most of the day the past few days and so exhausted I can barely stand. I just felt completely wiped out.

I've been through so much emotionally the past two weeks. I found I have leukemia while 29 weeks pregnant. I had a bone marrow biopsy. I was induced into labor for 24 hours and called a "failed induction" because I wasn't progressing enough. Two days, later I had a premature baby with no epidural. I started chemo treatment just three days after having my precious boy. I got a really bad cold that took forever to get rid of. I started feeling the side effects of the chemo only a few days later. I became neutropenic. Now, I'm losing my hair and still having loose BM's. 

It's been brutal these past few weeks, but I also know how thankful I am to have each day I have, even if I feel terrible. My boy is doing great. Brody is managing and spending quality time with family and Klay is focused on getting us back together as a family... with all of us healthy.

All of your love and support help me make it through each day, and I truly from the bottom of my heart am forever grateful for you prayers and your gifts.

I still have a few weeks in this place, so I'm praying I make it through without any sort of infection---that would be the best case scenario. Once my blood counts start to go back up, they will do another bone marrow biopsy and see how the chemo did---hopefully it kicked those cancer cells to the curb!

Then we will talk about our next steps.

I'm writing this story too, because I want to keep everyone informed. But I will admit it is very difficult to respond to every text, FB message, etc. 

Right now we are waiting and twiddling our thumbs, which means I'm thinking about not having the nursery even started yet, or having a crib or having our bathroom finished. LOL. Typical Cass... I'm a worry wart. 

In all truth, those things don't matter to me. Of course anyone would like them to be done, but I honestly don't care. I know those things are not important. I really, truly and deeply understand that now. I honestly don't care that it's not finished, or if my house is a mess, or the dishes don't get cleaned, and I don't care that we have only one bathroom we can use. 

I just want to be home with all my boys, changing dirty diapers and playing "pow pow" with Bro, and have a healthy family. That's all I want in this life--and it'd be nice if it could all happen before Christmas. That would truly be a day to celebrate.

Oh! And make sure to listen to the Kidd Kraddick in the Morning Show Monday between 7-8 am! They called me this week and surprised me. Oh what a blessing that was, and they totally lifted my spirits. And thank you to my friend, Wanda for nominating us. Now that woman... is an amazing, uplifting woman; a woman like no other!

Thank you all for your kind words, thoughts and prayers,

Wednesday, December 03, 2014

Baby Beckham's Birth Story

After the failed induction and a day of rest, Thursday morning came faster than I thought it would. Immediately after I got up, I started throwing up--probably from nerves, but this whole process was a whirlwind; it was just weighing on me so bad.

There was so much uncertainty.

Was he going to be OK?
Was I going to be OK?
Were we going to be able to deliver him vaginally?
Were we going to make it through all this without having a C-section?
How was I going to handle the pain?
How was he going to tolerate labor again?

There were so many unanswered questions that made me worried and fearful. It was overwhelming. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. If we were going to do this, I wanted to go for it and give it our best shot to get him out naturally.

That was my mind frame--let's get this done.

They wheeled me down about 7 a.m. or so and put another cytotec in my cervix to try to soften it one more time before starting me on pitocin.

I started contracting again, but not as much as I did the first day. They weren't bad contractions, at least not to me, just like menstrual cramps.

I started the day at a 2 and long, so my cervix hadn't completely softened yet, but I was much further now than I was two days prior, so that was good.

When my doc got me going on pitocin around noon or so, the contractions picked up and I started to dilate a little more. Things were finally progressing.

My nurse would ask how the contractions were and honestly they weren't really bothering me. They were uncomfortable and slowly getting stronger, but I kept saying "I just hope I'm a bad ass with a high pain tolerance and that's why they aren't bothering me that much."

By around 7 or so that night, my doc came down and checked my cervix again. This time I was 4 and 75% effaced, so almost fully thinned out. She knew that when I finally thinned all the way out, he would come pretty fast.

She decided to break my water. I was actually surprised with each vaginal check how much I wasn't bothered by her shoving her hand up there. I remember when she broke my water with Brody, it hurt. This time, I was like "ehh, it's not bad at all." I think it's all in your mind frame.

I knew I was doing this on my own. My anesthesiologists were planning to give me pain meds through an IV to help take some of the edge off when I wanted it.

I hadn't asked for it this whole time, because I didn't feel like I needed it. But finally they hooked me up to a PCA so I could push a button when I wanted it. But I never really pushed the button. I kept forgetting. And it wasn't helping me even when I would.

They were supposed to double my dose as I progressed and then give me some other pain med when my contractions really kicked in, but by the time this baby started coming I didn't have any of that. It was all natural.

When I started to have to really breathe through my contractions, Klay would be over there pushing that button, trying to get me meds, but I had to sit there and tell him "it's not helping." LOL. He'd say, "push the button!" He was worried, but I hadn't even gotten to the hard part yet.

I had about 30 minutes of pretty bad pain. And of those 30 minutes, 10-15 were extremely painful, but man, those last two contractions were brutal.

Not too long later, my doc came running in when she saw the baby's heart rate dip. Apparently that's a sign they are getting ready to come down the birth canal.

She checked me and I was a 6 almost 7 and she started gearing up.

That's when I really started hurting. I was turned on my side, legs clinched and grabbing onto the bed rails for dear life.

I started to think I couldn't do this if it was going to take much longer. But I could barely get any thought or words out because the pain was insane. If I could describe it, it felt like a watermelon on fire with razor blades forcing its way down and out of your body.

I started to feel the urge to push and I hollered "I gotta push!!!!" so they'd call the NICU to get them down to the room. He was coming and he was coming fast.

Everyone was telling me to wait and hold him in because NICU needed to be down in the room before Bex came out in case he wasn't breathing.

And when they tell you you have an urge to push, there is no urge about it. There is no stopping it. But somehow, I managed not to push. I literally think it was because I was on my side. Had I been on my back, legs spread, he would have shot out across the room--there would have been no stopping it.

I had that first contraction before the contraction where Bex made his arrival and I think I scarred Klay for life.

I hollered so loud I probably ignited fear in all of the women waiting to deliver down the hall.

All I kept hearing was "hold him in Cass, hold him in, don't push don't push!"

My doc had told me I was going to have another contraction before NICU made it down. About 30 seconds later the second one started.

I was still on my side, hollering "he's coming!"
"Hold him in, hold him in," everyone said.
"I caaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnn't!!!" I shouted.

As soon as my doctor flung my leg open, baby boy slid right out. I didn't push once.

He was crying, which meant he was breathing. NICU hadn't gotten there yet.

His cry was so soft though it took me a minute to hear.

I was breathing hard, shaking and relieved the pain was over; it stopped instantly.

My doc said "you did it. He's fine, he's breathing and crying and you have a baby!"

I was kinda in shock like, "I do?" I couldn't believe I did it.

I kept saying "I'm sorry" I couldn't hold him in.

Seconds later a flood of people burst into the room.

Beckham immediately reached out and grabbed my doctor's clamp when she was about to clamp the cord. She started to laugh. He is already a feisty little thing.

He weighed 3lbs 8 oz, 17 inches long and was born at 30 weeks gestation.

Thursday, November 20, 2014 at 9:23 p.m.

My doc noticed he had a knot in his umbilical cord. "He failed jump roping class," she said. But later on after Bex was being looked at by the NICU folks and I was being cleaned up, my doc said that the knot could have been fatal to him had we continued on with the pregnancy. The bigger he would have gotten, the more strain he would have put on his cord and he could have lost his blood flow.

"He was meant to come out," my doc said to me a few days later.

I truly believe that. He was meant to come out. Things could have been a lot worse, but on that day, everything went as well as it could have. It was a great day.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Pregnant with Cancer

I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth.

I have leukemia.

That's a hard thing to truly say and know that it's not a dream, or a lie, or a bad joke. It's true. It's real. It's hard.

On top of that, I found out about my diagnosis while 29 weeks pregnant with my second child--a little boy--named Beckham Laine.

These past 12 days have been crazy and full of ups and downs. There were days I cried for a while. Times I had huge breakdowns in tears. Many things racing through my head...

"Why me?"
"Is this real? This has to be a nightmare."
"I want to wake up."
"I feel like I knew this was coming."
"Why does it have to be both? Why can't I just have cancer and why did it have to be while I was pregnant?"
"I'm scared."
"I have to be here for my kids. I have to be here for Klay."
"I can't leave them."
"I want to go home."
"I want to go home."
"I want to go home."


It all started off while I was pregnant and showing signs of severe anemia. When my blood work came back worse at 28 weeks than when I was 24 weeks gestation, that alarmed my OBGYN, who is incredible by the way...

The day I found out (it was the day of my baby shower--Nov. 9) my blood work was worse than before with no explanation as to why (because I had been taking iron). So my OB said go see a hematologist the next day.

I did. And the hematologist seemed to think that it was the blood pressure med I was on. I had stopped taking it that weekend due to the alarming call from my doctor, but it hadn't been long enough to be able to tell what was causing this. So I was ordered to take steroids and come back in a week.

That was on Monday, Nov. 10. On Wednesday, I started having some severe pain in my lower back. It felt like back spasms and would come in waves and be very uncomfortable. I hadn't done anything all day but relax. My mom had even come over and cooked and watched Brody, so I literally napped and just watched TV.

Eventually the pain became a constant dull ache (which was a lot less painful) and I was able to get some sleep.

The next day I decided to call my OB and tell her what was going on. They wanted me to come in and make sure everything was OK. After a sonogram and monitoring everything appeared to be fine. But they wanted me to stay overnight.

I just thought it was to be precautionary, but after my doctor came up to talk to me about the possibilities of what this could be, it became unreal.

My blood work had shown some immature cell blasts, which is most likely cancer at least I think that's what they said, and so I had to do a bone marrow biopsy the next day.

There were three possibilities:

1) It could be the blood pressure med I was on
2) It could be toxemia or the HELP syndrome, though I wasn't showing any signs of that
3) It could be leukemia

Not exactly something you want to hear.

I think I knew deep down, it was going to be the latter. But through the night I kept telling Klay that it had to be the BP med. It just didn't make sense and honestly it didn't make sense to any of my doctors either. They seemed baffled.

Monday, just three days earlier, there was no signs of leukemia and Thursday there were these immature cell blasts? It just seemed so sudden.

But no one was worried about the back pain. It wasn't premature labor and it was never brought up again.

Then Friday, they came in and said, "It's AML. Acute Myeloid Leukemia."

A wave of questions about the future and our options were being tossed our way.

Now, what to do with baby?

My team of doctors researched, discussed and talked about options.

Was Chemo with baby a safe, viable option?

I'm a rare case. It's more common to get breast cancer and be pregnant, but leukemia was whole-other-ballgame.

Then came the longest weekend from hell.

Decisions were changing constantly and we were still waiting on bone marrow results. Nothing was going to happen til Monday, Nov. 17.

Monday, the doctors decided they would wait because my blood levels were still pretty stable, but not five minutes later, they changed their minds and opted for an induction to get Beckham out, so I could get treatment ASAP.

Then the decision arose about if an epidural was an option.

Pretty much only one person was comfortable putting it in. But before that became an option, I was told no epidural. And I was OK with that. I had an epidural with Brody, so I was very PRO-epidural gal. But once it was being talked about being a possibility, I instantly got nervous and my gut was telling me to reject that idea.

The chances that something could go wrong and a red blood cell could be sent up my spine and into my brain spreading this cancer, was slim according to people, but it seemed to me to be too much of a selfish risk to take. Yes, it'd be nice to have one, but I didn't feel right about it. I needed to do this on my own. I've already got so much at stake here.

Monday around 5 p.m., I was wheeled down to Labor and Delivery in tears. This just all seemed to be unreal. As much as I wanted my little guy here and this part of this journey over with, I had just finished a NICU tour the day prior and that was tough. Seeing these tiny babies with all of these machines hooked up for whatever circumstance led them to be born before their little bodies were ready was sad and unfair. And that was going to be my little guy in there next. I know that babies are born premature all the time, but seeing it in person and not just in photos seemed to really make me realize every moment Beckham was in my tummy was precious and crucial time for him to grow and have an easier first few months of life.

Luckily on Thursday and Friday, when we found out I had cancer, I was given my doses of steroids to help the baby's lungs progress faster while he was still in the womb.

Anyway, back to Nov. 17.... they started cytotec and placed those in my cervix to soften it and get the process started. With the first one, I started contracting. By the early morning, they started pitocin. That's when the fun starts. I was having stronger contractions, but I didn't feel like it was too bad. This continued for the next several hours and by Tuesday at around 5 pm or so, I was only dilated to a 2 and long. If you don't know what that means, look it up. But basically the softer your cervix is the better and quicker you dilate.

So my doc decided to stop the induction, send me back upstairs to get some rest. Then we could start again on Thursday.

I had labored for over 24 hours. It wasn't extremely painful... felt mostly like bad menstrual cramps. But my contractions continued over the next day or so even though I was off pitocin. They just weren't happening regular.

Wednesday I took the day off and relaxed. When I got back to my room, I instantly relaxed.

Don't get me wrong, I was disappointed he didn't come that first day, but my body was worn out. I was exhausted had minimal sleep and hadn't eaten in over 24 hours. I needed a break. And it was the right option.

More to come soon...

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Sick Sick Sick

Lately my days have been spent sprinting to the bathroom, throwing myself to the toilet, trying to hold something down. That's about the only exercise I've been getting lately.

Unfortunately, it seems my extremely bad nausea has resurfaced once again and keeping stuff down is nearly impossible.

I'm so grossed out by the many different ways stuff comes out of my body, it's repulsive.

I don't want to eat because nothing sounds good.

I don't want to eat because I'm scared I'll puke.

I don't want to eat because I have heartburn before I ever even take a bite of my food.

I don't want to eat because if it's not nausea, it's my stomach acting up.

I hate the idea of eating now.

Since eating seems like such a challenging task, cooking and going the grocery store is torture.

I don't want to pick out what to make for dinner because nothing sounds good. I don't want to look at a bunch of food that will most likely make me sick. And I'm damn sure tired of paying for food and puking that money down the toilet.

I honestly feel sorry for my husband. He has a wife who doesn't want to eat, cook or do anything that requires work because I feel like shit all the time. I literally feel like this everyday.

Ugh. Why am I only 23 weeks?

Everyday I wake up wishing it was December and I was far enough along, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And this constant feeling like complete dog shit everyday doesn't make me a very productive person.

I'm trying to gather the strength to potty train Brody, but I fail to follow through at every turn.

I'm trying to clean out closets, the office, and get rid of a bunch of crap to make room for baby #2, but my energy is lacking.

If I feel good enough, I will accomplish something that day. The other day, I cleaned out my hall closet which took a few hours and I organized all of our medicine. I was proud of myself. It's just whatever I think I can tackle.

I also cleaned up and went through most of Brody's toys, getting rid of some he doesn't play with and cleaning his room. I still need to go through his closet and clothes though.

I have so many things on my list of To Do's, but no energy to finish them.

Beyond that, I'm trying to get ideas for the baby's room and figure out a name. We have a few we like, but none we've landed on just yet.

I just wish I was rich and had someone come and professional organize, decorate and clean up my house. LOL. I'm sure we all wish that or wish we had some minions.

Pretty much this post is again, about me feeling like poo. 

I think I may go lay down for a bit.

Someone wake me when it's December,

Thursday, September 25, 2014

50 Shades of Cray Cray

Note: I was inspired to write this blog post after reading Helene In Between's "Irrationally Angry" post. You should check it out. She's awesome.

Ok. So. I'm stressed and agitated about 90% of the time.

I'm angry and upset at everything.

Yes. I do know that I am pregnant and hormonal.

As I type this, while sitting on my couch, my two year old son is pushing and gently kicking his feet against my hip causing me to become annoyed and frustrated as my computer screen shakes with every push of his foot.

The smallest things can set me off into an angry fit. Whether it be my impatient toddler repeating what he wants like a broken record about 28394839 times before I respond--honestly you have to admire his tenacity because he is dedicated to get what he wants--or my husband's dislike of my craving for packaged apple pies, my frustration seems constant and never-ending.

So here are some things that really tick me off...

+ Yes, I'm still getting sick. I've went 9 days without getting sick... and it's the longest I've went throughout this entire pregnancy without having to hug the toilet. Unfortunately, I'm nauseated all the time still--at least for the most part. The only positive is that I'm not getting sick every day, though when my puke-o-meter decides to reset, I could get sick as many as 4-5 time a day. FML.

+ The Terrible Twos. WHY the EFF to the two's have to be so damn terrible? For the past month, my child has whined and cried--it feels like but I'm probably exaggerating--constantly. And some parents say the three's are worse. Lord help me. I need more patience.

+ Pedicures. I need one. I want one. I don't want to pay for one. Irrational... I know.

+ I'm only 22 weeks pregnant right now. Um, hello lower back pain already! And, my hips and pelvis hurt already. This kid sits so low I swear he could swat Klay away if he tried to--ahem--enter. Yeah is that TMI? Oh deal with it. At least you don't have a little person who is pressing his head against your bladder, making you hurl, and hate the idea of eating or cooking all at the same time. I already feel huge and uncomfortable, I'm just ready to be delivering this baby come January.

+ People who make me have to repeat what I say more than once. Just listen the first time. Or the second. But when I have to say it a third, I'm annoyed.

+ Heartburn. As it if it's not enough that I have a child inside of me making me get up to pee every 5 minutes, I also have heartburn 24/7. Never had heartburn? Just wait til you get knocked up. Matter of fact, when you buy your pregnancy test, you might as well grab a bottle of Tums.

+ My iphone. I'm over it. It messes up constantly. It's slow. Switching to android and I'm so ready for it, I can barely stand it.

+ Apple Pies. While all I crave seems to be the little packaged apple pies, I have to have a certain brand. Some of the other brands suck and the pies taste like poo, and for some reason the brand I want is not in any damn stores. Klay went to four different stores the other day searching for pies for his irrational spouse. If they had any of my brand, they would have only one left and it would be lemon. They don't even have them at Walmart. Seriously? Who the EFF is eating all these damn pies? And why is it so difficult to find them? Meanwhile, Klay gets concerned that I'm eating one to two a day. I know they are bad for me, but as much as I throw up food I pay for and cook, these pies make me feel better. #piequeen #donthate

+ Shopping with a toddler. Brody refuses to be in the buggy so he has to walk and be independent, but he doesn't listen and touches everything in the store. I'm like "Don't touch that. Put that back. Brody come here. No, we can't have candy." It's never ending. I discipline him, and sometimes it works and sometimes not so much. By the end of the trip, I'm mentally and physically exhausted. PS. F-U Halloween candy being on every damn aisle at Walmart.

+ Things breaking when you need them. From flat tires and messed up phones to cracked bathtubs and dead car batteries, it seems everything we own is breaking. My blood pressure is rising.

+ Slow cashiers. Just take your time scanning three items I wish to purchase which takes five minutes more than it should. It's not like this pregnant lady has to pee or anything.

I could go on and on, but pretty much this is just a bitch post. Sorry about that guys. I'm just not in a grand mood today. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

It'd be a lot better if I had a maid or assistant. If only I were rich...

At least this attractive beast comes home to me every day! Watch video. You'll laugh.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Boy or Girl?

One of the most exciting things during your pregnancy is finding out if you're having a boy or a girl. For me, already having a boy, I feel like I'm a boy-mom at heart. I've never really been super girly, grew up as a tom-boy and I don't even know how to paint my toenails and couldn't braid my hair if I tried.

I mean most girls watched movies like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast--princess movies--but my favorite movie was Beetlejuice.

I know. I suck at being a girl.

But needless to say, when you get pregnant, you have no choice on your baby's gender. It's all based on who's the fastest swimmer.

SO anyway, I had my second sono scheduled at 12 weeks. Since it was so early, but I was almost out of the first trimester, I was unsure whether or not I would be able to find out what we are having.

Everything I read online said at that time during your pregnancy, the boy and girl parts look pretty much the same. It wouldn't be until week 13 or so that they really start forming enough to be able to tell what it is.

But at the sono, the sonographer said she was 95% sure what we were having. Klay was unable to come to the sonogram because he was working, so I asked her to put the gender in an envelope for us to open together when he got home.

Little did I know that we'd have a surprise waiting for us in that envelope.

I was determined it was going to be a boy.
Klay thought it was a boy too.
And, we both actually wanted another boy. Plus we have everything for a boy.

But when I pulled out a pink card that said it was a girl, my mouth fell to the floor and my reaction was "oh shit."

I mean I'm an emotional mess about 95% of the time. Could you imagine adding another female like me to this household?

It would be batshit crazy.

Don't get me wrong; there are plenty of great things about having a girl. We would have one of each and experience both sides of the fence (boy and girl). Girls have the proms and the weddings and all of the fun dress-searching activities. I was a cheerleader (which is the only girly thing I really got into) and softball player growing up, so I'd love to do all of those things with a girl. But I feel like girls are more emotional than boys. I mean we are the ones that get a monthly gift once a month that puts us in a foul and funky mood.

Honestly Klay and I were a tad bit disappointed it wasn't a boy. But the sonographer did tell us that it' was so early, she could be wrong so "don't buy anything yet."

We told our families and everyone experienced that same reaction--shock--but some were especially excited it was a girl. I had to tell them they'd have to wait to purchase items for the baby until after our 20 week sono confirmed it.

Though I wasn't 100% sure it was a girl, my mind was certainly adjusting to the idea of having a girl. And when I was pregnant with Brody I had a ton of options for girls names and very little for boys. So I was excited that I felt it would be a lot easier to choose a name for a girl. Klay and I had a girl name picked out for about 7+ years or so and it's always stuck with us.

The more I thought about it, the more I adjusted to the idea of having a girl.

So here we are; I'm 20 weeks pregnant and had my sonogram yesterday.

The main thing we want is a healthy baby. With my constant nausea, my high blood pressure, anemia, and the low PAPP-A hormone, which could mean my placenta could start to give out and I could have this baby sooner than my due date, I just wanted this baby to be healthy.

And from the report from the specialist doctor I have to see regularly now (and have regular sonos), this baby is on the right path. Healthy looking spine, brain, heart etc. That makes me feel much much better! Check out this video that confirmed it!



8 weeks




Because of that 12 week sono, I wasn't going to be surprised to hear girl, but Klay and I saw the little boy parts and we were surprised once again!!

Now, back to the drawing board on boy names. This kid will probably be born with no name. Seriously. Boy names are hard! I found out I was having a boy when I was pregnant with Bro at 11 weeks (due to a blood test that's 99% accurate) and I didn't finalize his name until 27-28 weeks.

But we are so excited that everything looks to be on the right track for now. The specialist doctor reassured us that there is 85% chance everything will go OK and the placenta will stay strong til the end, and there is a 15% chance that it will start to weaken before I'm full term. That made me feel a lot better. And my doctors are monitoring me closely to make sure that everything goes as it should.

If only I could kick this nausea to the curb...

Because of all my sickness and issues this pregnancy, I have a feeling this boy is going to be TROUBLE! Only time will tell.

Until next time,

Thursday, September 04, 2014

How I found out I was pregnant...again

If you haven't read my first pregnancy stories, you should do so here and here. Because some of the things I say may confuse you had you not already read them.

Let me start off by saying this was just as much as a surprise as our first.

We weren't trying. We were definitely practicing, but we weren't trying to have a second child just yet.

Let me just jump right in.

Ok. So what was the tell-tell sign this time? Sore boobs. Late period. The usual.

I did pee a lot but I already pee a lot so not a huge difference there.

I'd honestly thought I was pregnant earlier this year, but it turned out I was just late or completely forgot when my last period was and I thought I was late, only I was really on-time.

Needless to say, because of that scare, I was pretty sure I was just thinking I might be pregnant and then it would turn out I was wrong... again. I remembered I had two pregnancy tests stashed away from earlier this year, so early Saturday morning on Memorial weekend, I got up before the boys and took the test.

I was thinking "take the test, it will say negative and you can relax."

What I wasn't expecting was for it to come back and say "Nah, bitch you pregnant." Ok it really didn't say that, but that's what it felt like.

I had the Clearblue tests that reads "pregnant" or "not pregnant". But after"pregnant" popped up on the tiny screen--and my heart fell into my stomach--a little timer on the side was still blinking like it wasn't finished calculating.

I sat there and waited.

"Maybe the 'not' will pop up," I thought.


Little did I know I purchased the test which calculates how far along you are. Once the timer quit blinking, "2-3 weeks" showed up on the screen...

I sat on the floor and stared at the floor.

Klay was clueless, asleep in our bedroom. This time, unlike the first, he had no idea I was taking a test so I was a little nervous about how he'd react.

The timing didn't seem quite right to be pregnant again, but I suppose it never does.

I decided to take the second test, just to be sure. I mean I know if it says you are, you are. And if it says you're not, you still could be, but I thought "just take the second one, might as well."

So, I did.

Same result.


I just sat and cried in disbelief. I just didn't feel I was ready.

I was trying to get back on track with losing weight and trying to find a job. And, this just complicates things again.

Plus, Klay and I had gotten into a little tiff the night before over something dumb like the dishes. Normally we hash things out before going to bed. It's kind of one of our "rules," we try not to go to sleep angry. But I was freaking tired and didn't feel like talking about the dishes so I fell asleep.

So I wasn't sure how he'd react the next morning.

Meanwhile, I tried to think of a clever way to tell him I was pregnant. So I decided to make breakfast and coffee before he got up and thought I'd write it on his coffee cup. Clever enough for short notice.

So I wrote "2nd White Baby on the way! Drink up!"

He got up when he heard me moving around pans in the kitchen.

The first thing he did was hug and kiss me--a sign to show me he'd moved on from the night before. I felt my shoulders relax with relief.

I made pancakes and had some fresh fruit on the side.

I had to tell him I made coffee and already had a coffee cup sat out for him. I turned it so the message I wrote on the cup was away from him.

But before that he asked me if I wanted coffee and I said "no." And then when it came time to eat,
I told him I'd eat in minute and that I wasn't that hungry.

And he picked up on the strange vibe I guess.

"What's going on with you? You don't want coffee or want to eat? Should I be worried? Did you poison my food?" he laughed, joking about our argument the night before.

"Well I do watch a lot of 'Snapped,' but I wouldn't poison your food, it would be too obvious," I said trying to play it off.

"I'll eat," I said. "Just don't give me those two pancakes on the top. Those are for you," I joked.

Since our kitchen table was still outside we were eating on the floor.

It took him about 45 minutes to notice the message on the coffee cup.

I was waiting to see how he'd react. I had my phone ready so I could grab and record when he finally noticed the message.

Since his first words were "WTF" when we found out I was pregnant with Brody, I was eager to hear the first words to come out of his mouth this time.

And, guess what? He didn't disappoint.



Only my husband.

I'd post photos and videos of this epic event, but unfortunately on Friday, my phone decided to stop working and I lost them all. No I didn't back up. I hate that shit. Takes forever. Those precious moments captured are lost forever I suppose. My fault. FML.


Saturday, August 23, 2014

Pregnancy Sucks

I say it all in the title--pregnancy sucks.

For those of you freaks of nature who say they loved being pregnant, I call "bull shit" or you had quite possibly one of the easiest pregnancies ever. And if it's the latter, then I really just want to flip you off right now.

I know it sounds harsh. But listen, when you're throwing up 4-6 times a day, you're nauseated 24/7 (and it never goes away) and you're battling allergies, daily headaches and nothing ever sounds good enough to eat, you'd be flipping people off too.

I mean I really hoped this pregnancy would be better than my first, just so I could enjoy it more. The first time around you're nervous, all of this is new, and you worry about everything--or maybe that was just me. But this time I wanted to love it and really enjoy it because it might be my last pregnancy, I don't know.

But this pregnancy has been brutal.

At every week I've hoped the nausea would vanish, but I'm 17 weeks pregnant and I've been so so so nauseated every day, I can barely function. And it seemed even last week it was getting worse. I was becoming more nauseated in the morning and at night, gagging before my feet hit the floor and before I took all 5 million pills I have to take (fuck you giant prenatal vitamins). Not only that my heartburn has been brutal. Getting sick while you have heartburn freaking hurts. I'm afraid all this barfing is going to damage my esophagus.

The heat doesn't help. There is nothing specifically that makes me sick food-wise. Nothing sounds good.  Well the only thing that sounded good was chicken alfredo from Olive Garden--which I've probably had an embarrassing 20 times in the past two months.

But hey, if it makes me feel OK and it's the one thing I haven't gotten sick on, make me a fatty and give me all 1500 calories of that pasta-goodness.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was something specific or if it was only in the mornings or at night. But being nauseated all damn day, feeling like if I don't eat fast enough I might get sick, living in fear if I eat something different I might get sick, trying to figure out what to eat when nothing sounds good before I get sick. I'm just tired of paying for food and throwing it up.

Needless to say the nausea has been so bad, I barely get on my phone to get on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, because it makes me sick. So being on the computer blogging has been on the bottom of my list. Sorry guys. I feel like I'm losing momentum and I was so pumped about this blog a few months ago.

But if I'm being honest, it's not just the nausea that has gotten me down, there's more going on with this pregnancy.

Well first off, I have chronic high blood pressure. I had been doing well since I lost weight last year and not needed my BP meds, but the doc put me back on them and I have to take them twice a day. High BP puts me at risk for toxemia again and I don't want to have to be on magnesium like I was when I was in labor with Brody. It makes you feel terrible (migraine, feels like you have a fever, catheter before epidural, nausea).

So that's a disappointment. I'll just be crossing my fingers that taking the BP meds keeps me away from the toxemia/magnesium during labor.

The other thing is something I wasn't real sure I wanted to talk about on here because it could be a big deal, and it could not.

There is a hormone in the placenta called PAPP-A. Mine is significantly low, which means I will need regular sonos to ensure the baby is growing as it should. Basically from what I understand about it is that as the baby gets bigger, as I progress throughout my pregnancy, the weak placenta could make it difficult for the baby to continue to grow. If that happens, then we will deliver early.

Luckily, I found out from my doc that most of the time you don't see this happen until the third trimester. That makes me feel a little better. And who knows, maybe everything will be fine? I'm trying my best not to think about this stuff right now. I know it will upset me.

All I can say is that I'm so thankful for my family.

My husband who has burst into the ladies' room at restaurants to be with me as I'm getting sick, dropping everything to be with me every time I'm run to the bathroom in a hurry, comforting me every time I stand up after an episode in tears, making me lay down when I start to feel really bad, and taking me to Olive Garden to eat to make me feel better. I really won the lottery with him. He's so good to me and Brody. He's cooked dinner a lot lately because making food makes me nauseous, even after a hard day at work. I love that man so much. He will never know just how much I love him.

My Brody. He's been there when Daddy's at work, sitting there with me and rubbing my back when I get sick. "You feel sick, mama? Dada be home in a minute," he says not really knowing when Klay will be home but he knows that Dada will try to fix it. He cuddles with me when he knows I don't feel good, and he helps me by bringing me joy at the times I need it most. My little guy.

My mom who has listened to me bitch about this nausea everyday for the past 15 weeks. She's called everyday to check on me. She even came over to help me clean the house. She's helped me with Brody when I needed a break, especially when Klay was gone for three weeks working. She's taken me to Olive Garden, bought me to-go meals from Olive Garden so I wouldn't have to cook or worry about food, and then taken Brody home to stay the night with her so I could get some rest. Thanks mom. I love you more than you'll every know!

My sister, my dad and even my bro-in-law have even helped out too. My sister found some nausea bracelets and brought them to me in hopes that they would help. My dad came to pick me and Brody up one day because Klay was away working and took me to their house because I was so sick I couldn't drive. And my bro-in-law has brought Brody home from my mom's house so I wouldn't have to drive out there to get him. Thanks to them and all of my family for being there when I need it!

Thankfully, I'm happy to report the past four days I've felt so much better. The nausea has eased up quite a bit, so I'm not as nauseated throughout the day. I cooked three nights this week and I've feel about 50 percent better than I did. At least I feel much better than I have in such a long time, I forgot what feeling good feels like.

I'm hoping the extreme nausea has gone away for good, but I'd honestly be happy with just a few good days a week at this point.

Hence, that's why I'm writing right now! I feel good enough to be on the computer--maybe this will be my comeback to the blogosphere yet again.

I guess only time will tell.


Monday, July 21, 2014

The Unexpected

Some things in life you can't predict. I guess there isn't much you can really, except for maybe the weather and what might happen on your favorite tv show.

Unfortunately we aren't all Sylvia Brown's so we don't get a mental email alerting us to what our future may hold. Though I doubt that's really what it's like for her.

BUT I guess that's what life is all about right? The surprises. I don't necessarily want to know how the next 10 years of my life go, but I wouldn't mind a cliff notes version as to where I may end up and what path I should take (especially in my career).

But life isn't a novel or a movie or a tv show where no one has to go to the bathroom, do their make up or fix their hair. Unfortunately I don't wake up wearing make up though I'm sure that would be nice for my husband since he has to deal with the zombie-like mess that wakes up next to him. And I don't get out of the shower with make up already on, but that would be nice too. I seriously hate when they do that in the movies. NO woman looks that damn good when they get out of the shower. For example, I have a raccoon eyes from my mascara that just lingers around my eyes. #reallifetalk

It's just the way it is.

BUT again life is not a movie and I don't make out with Ryan Gosling in the rain when he tells me he's written me love letters for a year and I never got 'em, which is kind of a bummer. But on the flipside I married better than Ryan Gosling. I know women are rolling their eyes like "psh yeah right," but my husband is a total hottie, which is why we are in this mess.

LIFE is all about the surprises... the unexpected.

So what's the point of all this rambling nonsense?

Well my life has been turned upside a down, hence this thing I'm about to say is a huge deal and a huge part as to why I've been a complete basket case, 51 50 Amanda Bynes maniac lately. And will explain my lack of posts and the true chaos of how my life has been the past few weeks...








I'm totes for reals.

I found out Memorial Day weekend.

So White Baby #2 is on the way. Enter stress here.

Can you believe it? I sure as hell can't. I mean I just started getting my office in shape and now I'm going to lose it because we will need space for the baby, which I'm cool with. I mean I did want a second child eventually, just NOW wasn't exactly ideal.

Needless to say, I had already been down, but this threw me for a bigger loop. I'm down about my weight, but I'm going to get bigger and fatter because that's what prego women do.

The job sitch is still the same. No luck.

I've been nauseated for this pretty much for the last two months and I can't seem to shake it.

Welcome to the first trimester. It effin blows.

So I'm a mess. A legit mess. But I am excited for a new baby. I miss the stages of life where your child lays on your chest and relaxes in mommy's arms. My two year old does everything BUT that. He's definitely developed a resistance to doing what I say. But I try to stick to my guns. He doesn't want to give me kisses or hugs or love as much as he used to, but he's all over Klay's nuts when he gets home. And that's good. I mean he loves his dad, but I get to be the bad cop in the whole good cop/bad cop shtick.

But when he does come up and hug me, it's the unexpected hugs and kisses that make your heart melt.

And I haven't been exactly a ball of fun these days. And I know Brody can see that and that hurts.

But Klay and I did go to the doctor and all looks good with baby #2. And there is only ONE baby in there.

Remember when I said I went to the ER? Well, it was because I'd been vomiting for more than 24 hours, and couldn't keep any fluids down, plus I couldn't pee, which for me and my itsy bitsy bladder (which is now a ca-zillion times worse since I'm prego again) is unusual and meant I was dehydrated.

We went to the ER and they gave me medicine through an IV that helped me with the nausea and I got some fluids in my system too. We also got to see the baby again. It was twice as big as it was the last time we saw it and it was kicking and moving around like crazy. That made me feel better that the baby was OK.

I also had a bout with constipation (I know TMI, but it's pregnancy woes so deal with it) the week before and then I had sinus crud and a sore throat on top of that. And to top that week off, I puked in a Lowe's parking lot right in front of Whataburger drive thru which had a line of cars staring as a got sick in the lot.

Klay was like "Do you want to move over here so the people at Whataburger aren't staring?"

"I don't care," I mumbled.

"Tough shit," I thought. "I'm pregnant. They just have to deal."

But Klay bent down in front of me and patted me on the back and comforted me to block those people from staring and thinking I got too drunk from the night before though it was just pregnancy sickness.

Then three days later, my grandpa passed away. We just had a LOT of stuff go wrong the past few weeks. And I have felt like poo for wayyyyy too long and then a death in the family... it's been rough. I'm ready to feel good again.

So there it is... this big secret I've been hiding for two and a half months.

Brody is going to be a big brother!

I can already tell this kid is going to give me hell. Cause I've literally gotten sick like 4-6 times a day. I've been absolutely miserable and too nauseated to be on the computer. I finally got some better nausea meds which have seemed to help me out the past week or so.

Now I'm 12 weeks prego and ready to kiss the first trimester goodbye and I'll be crossing my fingers this nausea goes along with it.

The truth is finally out there. Sorry I've been so miserable that I haven't blogged. I'll try to get back on track. But now you finally know why I've been a crazy, non-social person the last few months!

The truth has set me free.



Thursday, July 03, 2014

Life with a Two Year Old

I wrote this post last week. For those of you who know me personally know that my grandpa passed away today. Since it's a sad day for our family, I thought I would share this post with you guys to maybe brighten the day a bit.

I'll have an update soon as to why I've been gone the past week. Short version: I've been really sick and went to the ER this week. I am better now. More to come on that later.

But needless to say it's been a really rough two weeks around here. So I apologize for the lack of posts and I'm trying to get back on track. Here goes a series of reasons why I normally go a little nutzo during the week.


There are days where I feel like I'm going to go crazy.

But you know that already with my lack of posts or posts lately complaining about my current life sitch.

Well, I thought I'd clue you guys in on why I honestly feel like I'm going a little nuts. Between playing "POW POW" and changing diapers (still in the diaper-phase unfortunately) and the mess that is my house (I blame my kid for that), life with a two year old is kinda crazy.

If I'm trying to do something, like put on my make up for example things like this happens...

This is what I call my life with a two year old:

"Mama, here you go!" Brody hands me a box of cherry tomatoes.

 "No Brody take it back" as I say as I apply my mascara.

"You don't want 'matoes? Heeere." He shoves them to my stomach.

"No baby, take them back where you got them."

"I don't want to mama."

"Take them back," I command.

He gives me a look like "I'm going to take them somewhere and make a mess" if you want me to do something with 'em.

I sigh and get up and grab the tomatoes back and place them higher up where he can't reach.

"Mama, I want 'matoes!!!" he cries.



"Brody, go put back the body wash," I say.

"I want lotion on," he replies.

"It's not lotion, honey, it's body wash," I say as I try to pay a bill online. He walks out with body wash and I notice it later in the day on the floor somewhere, but never find the time to put it back.

8 p.m.

"Brody want to take a bath?" I ask.

"I want take a bath!" he yells running to the bath.

I look around and realize the body wash is MIA.

"Brody where is your body wash?"

"Where the body wash go mama?"

The body wash cannot be found. And therefore is lost forever.



"Mama, I throw lemon to you!"

Gasp! "No, no baby don't throw the lemon at me. Lemon will bust open. Take it back where you found it."

"You don't want me throw the lemon at you?" he asks.

"No we don't throw lemons. Go put it back where you found it."

"I throw it at purse?" he asks.

"No. Don't throw it at my purse." I laugh.

"I throw it at fan?"

"No don't throw it at the fan. It will burst."

"It will burssss?"

"Yes, now go put it up where you found it."

"Ooook," he says marching off to the kitchen. I follow him to see if he puts it back. He throws it at the bowl of lemons on a shelf and it falls to the floor.

"No don't throw it!"

"I put lemon back."

(Later on I discover why he wanted to throw lemons... Dada and Brody threw lemons at each other the day before... Mom was unaware.



The house is quiet. I hear no noise from a little two year old boy, so I know something is up. Unfortunately I have a massive headache so things that I'd usually care about, I don't at the moment.

But I needed to check on him.

"Brody what are you doing?" I ask sitting up on the couch looking over by the end table.

"I wiping nose."

I see all of the kleenex's on the floor as he sits in a sea of white tissues. Not one is left in the box.




In the shower washing my hair when I hear...

"Mama, you taking a showah?"

"Yes I'm taking a shower."

I hear him walk out of the bathroom and reenter the room.

"Here!" he says.

I look down to him handing me my cell phone.


"No no baby take in back."

"You don't want your phone mama?"

"Thank you, but I don't need it. It will get wet and break."

"OK. I'll be right back."

Well that could have been worse.



Drying my hair and I hear "Mama, I poo poo."



Life with a two year old isn't easy and kinda sucks at times, but he does make up for it--when he's sleeping.

HAHA I kid.

But the sleeping is always so cute. They are so calm, quiet and peaceful.

But most of the time, life is like this...

"Wanna go for a swim in baby powder?"

Hope life is a little less crazy for you out there in bloglandia,

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Bad Blogger

OK. I know what you're thinking.

Where the hell have you been? 

My theme song for my life should be "Bad" by Michael Jackson because I have been bad. I'm BAD. You know it. I've been a very, very bad blogger.

There is literally so much stuff going on in my life right now and about a ca-trillion things that are making me worry, upset and stress the F out.

From the do-it-yourself-kitchen-table project that's been sitting the garage for over a month and the now empty, torn up space that displays the studs and insulation in my bathroom wall where my bathtub used to be (and due to a crack needs to be replaced) to the jobless life I still have and depression over my weight gain, I'm a complete, full on, you-should-feel-sorry-for-my-husband basket case.

And so I apologize for my lack of posts lately. I've felt uninspired and really freaking negative right now.

I know worrying about things literally gets me no where and sitting on my ass and not exercising will keep me fat, but I honestly am lacking motivation in all of life's little departments (health, losing weight, job searching, finding ways to make money, etc).

This house is becoming more like a prison from which I cannot escape.

I love being Brody's mom and Klay's wife. And I AM thankful for those guys daily.

I'm just not challenged or mentally stimulated in life like I want to be. Since it seems virtually impossible to land an interview for a job, I've contemplated on starting my own business venture. Maybe an online clothes boutique? Those seem to be doing pretty well and I think it'd be pretty fun. But I don't know. Of course what stops that idea in its tracks is the fact that I could completely, utterly and epically fail.

And that's sad. I used to be daring and willing to challenge myself and if it didn't work out then maybe it just wasn't meant to be. But now I'm so blinded by the idea of failure that I'm really pretty much not willing to try out anything. I just wonder where my boldness went.

I always thought I'd have this grand career and I'd be juggling a career with a corner office with being a mommy, but the first thing seems to not be in my future any time soon. I know, I'm so negative right now.

I am. I know it. And my inner Negative Nancy is shaking her tail feather at everything I think about or talk about.


Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one in this world struggling. And I know that's not true by a long shot. I know that I am blessed to live the life I live with ones I share it with.

But I feel like NO one gets what I'm going through.

Just when I thought I was so excited about blogging, I lose my drive to do it. And, I've been pretty busy, but last week I could of posted more, I just didn't feel like I had anything incredibly interesting to say. Enter bad blogger status.

And this post doesn't really have a point besides complaining about my life and the career which I don't have. See there goes Negative Nancy again, throwing that shit in my face.

This sucks. Admitting how I feel. I had a huge emotional breakdown today and I was seriously a MESS. And I've also taking that to a physical level too. My hair hasn't felt the heat of a blow dryer in more than a week which means I pretty much look like Albert Einstein on crack.

My life a few years ago seemed to be headed in a great direction and I'm not really sure if my life is heading any direction now.

But hey! On the flipside, I did put on make up today. #WIN

Virtual high-five to a make-upped Cass and the fact that my hair was touched by a straightener today. #smallwinsthatcount

Hope all is grand elsewhere in the blogosphere,

Monday, June 09, 2014


So I know I've been a little M.I.A this past two weeks.

I've posted less. I've been on social media less. I've just been COMPLETELY out of the loop.

SO here it goes. My list of reasons why I've been a complete and total bum.

  1. We went to Mena, Arkansas last weekend (and by last weekend, I mean the last weekend of May). Klay and I joined some friends of ours for a weekend full of ATV/four wheeler riding among the hills and engulfed in nature in the Wolf Pen Gap. It was fun, except since coming home from Alaska I'm not as into the nature thing and the four wheeler thing and the getting dirty thing like I used to be. So I wasn't looking forward to it quite as much as I would have been a few years ago. But it ended up being a lot of fun! Needless to say, riding for eight hours a day on a four wheeler completely wiped me out after we got back, which means my house has suffered, the laundry has suffered, and I just need to kick my ass back into high gear before my house gets condemned. 
  2. Orange is the New Black season two became available Friday, so I've been a couch potato most of the weekend binge watching episodes. If we were in prison you'd want to bet your best cigarette-smuggling cockroach that I've probably gained five pounds from sitting on my ass all weekend.
  3. I've been trying to apply for more jobs and even took my resume to a place for a better shot at getting to talk to someone. No news yet. I mean I can't believe when I walked in like this, they didn't find it funny.
  4. I participated in a fun, happy hour online blogging thing with some new bloggers last week. Us newbies got some awesome tips from Erin over at Living in Yellow. If you're not following Erin, you should be. She's awesome, funny and super sweet. You'll love her! As for the other gals, I will be collab-ing with them soon which is exciting! The only issue with this online Google Hangout thing was that my internet kept being a complete douche monkey and sometimes logged me out of the convo. #internetproblems
  5. From watching my sweet baby niece last week to graduation parties, life has been a little busier than the usual the past few weeks. And because of my busier than usual life, I've been so tired, all I want to do is sit and watch TV or sleep. So when Klay came home all last week and wanted me to cook dinner, I pulled this card.

So I'm sorry I've been out of the blogging game and dragging my heels. I'm back now! I just need a venti white chocolate mocha and a 300 lb man yelling in my ear to get up and get shit done.

Either that or money to hire a maid.

I think I like the latter.