Friday, May 30, 2014

The POST That Goes Nowhere

I have no clue what I should talk about today.

I'd like to think I'm a creative person, but there are times when "writer's block" gets the best of me and I can't think of one thoughtful or funny thing to say.

And then I start comparing my posts to my hilarious (and high-trafficking posts)... And question if I'm really cut out for the blogosphere.

I read other blogs in awe of their commitment and consistency and I'm constantly amazed at their awesomeness and how they comically convey their stories and ideas.

I only hope one day as successful and gifted as they are.

As soon as I start pounding away on the keyboard trying to write my latest post, my inner NEGATIVE NANCY voice gets all shout-y.

"This post BLOWS," she says. She reminds me of a high school softball coach that would constantly bark at me to "drop the trailer" when I ran because I was remarkably slower than a grandma in 5-inch heels. #truestory

And I continuously doubt my ability to do continue doing what I'm doing as I epically fail to think of something incredibly fascinating and remotely funny to write.

Will I ever beat the "The Color Purple" post? Ehhh I don't know if it's possible.

I guess I could talk about the time that I had a panic attack on the top of a hill in Alaska the first--and only--time I ever went skiing, which is a remarkably dumb idea for "fun"by the way. WHO THE EFF wants to go up a mountain and ski down and go BACK up and then down again? I honestly don't get it. It's so repetitive and a lot of damn work if you ask me. I KNOW, you didn't ask me, BUT, next time anyone invites me to ski, I'll happily be sitting at the bottom of the mountain drinking wine and laughing at you dumb asses who are out in the cold, tumbling down a hill as you swerve to miss the four-year old kid who is a million times better than you btw. Meanwhile, you get a face full of snow and will be sore as shit the next day and can barely walk while that lil kid is back at it again. Just sayin'. When it comes to skiing, I'll stick to the Wii version.

But snow tubing? I could dig that. Less work and you SIT and cruise down a hill. Sure it's not a workout, but at least you're not dodging people left and right on the way down.

Or I could talk about the time I walked into a pole at the mall and everyone stopped and stared. "Did she really run into a pole?" they laughed and pointed. What was I doing? Freaking walking and talking. And, clearly when I talk I don't watch where I'm going because I hit that pole like a baby stripper.

Or the time I ran over a deer head in the middle of the road in my Volkswagen Bug and started hyperventilating because I was pretty sure it totaled my car or I possibly ran over a person instead of a deer like some "I Know What You Did Last Summer" shit. Luckily neither were the case and I never had some psycho killer come stalk me after I bounced over the deer head. BUT I did almost total my car during my panic attack. #countryproblems

Alas, none of those stories seem incredibly interesting to go in-depth about today.

The thing is I've come to realize every post isn't about beating the next post or making it bigger and better. Of course, I strive to make every post amaze balls but realistically that shit is not always going to happen. I get that.

I want to grow my blog and make the content so good people come back for more like it's cheesecake.

I've learned that people choose to follow me because I have half-ass decent content--or they want to win money from a giveaway I participate in--but hey I'm cool with it. I do it too.

The more likes, follows, shares and comments on my blog makes me want to continue on this journey in the world o' blogging. So thank you for following my blog, whether it be from trying to win free money or finding me on your own or being a loyal friend of mine and following me to show your affinity for me ;)

So since this post is serving no purpose whatsoever than a place for me to vent about my writer's block/blogging idea post frustration... I figured I'd link up with Whitney over at "I Wore Yoga Pants to Work" because she's freaking the best.

Seriously. She is.

To kick off the weekend you've all been waiting for, here I am participating in "Back That Azz Up Friday," which basically means I'm sharing a song to kick off this weekend off right.

Of course, I chose one of the songs that always gets me in the mood--the dancin' mood, that is.

Happy Friday y'all!

What song(s) are you obsessed with?

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Three-Day Weekend Blues

I know it was a three-day weekend for most of you business folks.

You probably spent the weekend basking in the three-day weekend glory like this guy.

And today, now that you're holiday weekend is over, you may feel like this at work today.

It's hard to get your mind wrapped back around the idea of working. Trust me, I've been there. I know how hard it is.

 And everyone has talked and shared on social media about how they spent their Memorial Day weekend.

Lots of you had cookouts with your friends.

Lots of you went swimming and hung out around a pool.

Lots of you were at the lake and on a boat.

All of you drank. Well, most of you did.

I didn't do any of those things.

Well, I kinda cooked out with my sister, but other than that, I didn't get in a pool or on a boat and probably should have a bottle or two o' wine, but didn't manage to get my hands on any.

Klay and I spent the weekend attempting to get some house projects finished, which didn't happen. They are still sitting there with a capital "I" next to them like school when you got an "incomplete."

Interestingly enough, our Memorial Weekend wasn't that interesting. We hung, we ate, we chilled. That about sums it up.

In other news since you are probably reading this at work, you're a naughty naughty beast. #yolo

I kid. But I figured since many of you are spending your days wasting away in a grey cubicle, I'd send you a few things that will brighten your day.

Don't worry. Here are some things on this list you can use and download, and others, well it's just for humor purposes only.

Go on a walk during lunch. The fresh air could do you some good. And stay off your phone while you're at it. Enjoy your time away from technology and take a breather. Unless of course, you're reading this blog. ;) Just be glad you don't have to watch for zombies.

Don't panic. It's a short work week. By the time you've read this post, you only have two more days til the weekend. And you can drink or hang out with your dogs or drink and hang out with your dogs. Whatever suits you. 

I mean things could be worse.
You could have this guy for your boss.

Be glad you're not the person who created this disturbing, useless office item. No, it's not a USB. But when you hook it up to your USB port, the dog comes to life to simulate "humping," as if it's hunching your computer. I'll pass.

OK. This one is for real.

Organize your desktop with style. Rekita over at Her and Nicole has some amazing, free options to make your office computer-background look profesh and clean in seconds. I love this one and downloaded it for my computer because my desktop needed some major organizing. PS. You should follow her while you head over to visit her. I recently became obsessed with her blog. She's incredible and super sweet. And her designs are the bee's knees.

Hope you guys have an amazing work week! Or what's left of it. 

How do you make your days better at the office?

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Painting + Drinking

For Mother's Day, me and my sis went in on a gift for my mom that I thought was pretty freakin' awesome. I would have shared it with you guys in my Mother's Day Gift Ideas post, but since my mom reads all my posts, it wouldn't have been much of a surprise for her!

She had been dying to go to one of those drinking and painting places. So, we decided to go half-sies on a mommy + daughter(s) date to Painting With A Twist.

painting with a twist mesquite

I thought it was the perfect gift idea because:

A. My mom is an artist. Not profesh, but she can totally draw the hell out of whatever is in her face. She's pretty amazing at drawing, painting, etc. She even painted the "crash" or "breakthrough" signs for our HS football guys to run through for both my HS and my sister's HS while we cheered.

B. Its BYOB. Nough said. Count me in.

C. What better gift to give mom than time to hang out with her daughters? 

D. It looks like fun! Plus, I want to paint some BEAUTIFUL shizz.

There is only one problem...I don't have an artistic bone in my body.

My sister hogged that gene, along with the skinny gene in our family. Thanks a lot, Brit.

Meanwhile, I got the big boobs gene (score!) but that also means the saggy-titty gene accompanies it (boooooooooooooooooooooooo-b) and the fat gene. I definitely got the genes no one pretty much wants.

SO, on the day of this whole painting thing I tried my best not to get nervous.

I know, I know... it's supposed to be fun.

Yada, yada, yada.

But I knew we'd have to take a photo at then end and show our "masterpiece," just like I'd seen many people do on Facebook over 100 times. And let's face it, no matter how much I Da'Vinci-ed my painting, it'd still look like a little girl with pigtails was playing around with paint next to those two.

They may be able to make some beautiful pieces of art, but you give me a paint brush and a wall and I can go to town on that bad boy. ;)

Seriously, though, I can barely do that.

Don't ask me to draw anything.

Don't ask me to paint anything.

Don't ask me to color anything.

Because I pretty much suck at it.

In 4th grade, I was so upset when I had ugly handwriting in school that I'd come home crying because it was so bad. And, I wasn't the gal who could doodle those fancy bubble letters either. I had to get my friend Steph @ Signing Steph to tackle those "doodling" tasks for my paper book covers in 7th grade. Yeah, you remember those. You probably made cute little bubble letters of you and your BF's initials. Except I'd get Steph to do it or some other artistically-inclined person to try, sometimes I'd even make Mom do it.

Needless to say, I was a bit worried about how this painting thing would go down.

Here we are pre-painting sesh. Full of make up and hair is still pretty and in tact.
We got to the place and were the first ones to arrive. And we Britney picked the middle table so we could see the "teacher" the best. Except now, I was going to have people behind me who could sneak a peek at my painting, point, laugh and whisper to each other about how bad that blonde girl is.

Do you see how my mind works!?

Britney picked a painting with peacock feathers because she thought it looked cool. I wanted to do a portrait of the Eiffel Tower, because it had a bunch of line-like "X's" that looked pretty damn easy. But we went with the peacock tree.

We started off with the background which seemed easy enough. Everyone's background looked better than mine, but I think that everyone said that as they painted streaks of blues and greens. We are all so critical of ourselves.

Britney was playing the DD that night, so me and mom could drink away. I had an apple cider "ale" and since I don't drink often, I was already feeling a little tipsy. Maybe it was the drink or my nerves or maybe both... who knows?

I started to get serious, determine mine wouldn't be the laughing stock of the entire classs.

The more serious and stressed I was, the more I needed to drink. Mom opened me up a mini wine bottle and Britney encouraged me to chug it so I'd loosen up.

I don't know if the person who thought of painting and drinking is a genius or an idiot.

I'm gonna say it's probably a mix of both. Having a bunch of people (mainly women) in the room, drinking and painting with nice clothes on isn't probably the best idea. Especially because women are the most competitive creatures on the planet.

Plus if I would have downed a few more, I probably would have been rolling around in the paint on the floor. But thankfully, I stopped after the wine.

By the time we got to the feathers, the drinks were taking it's toll on me. But instead of loosening me up, I started to get sleepy.

I tried to concentrate on the feathers, but they weren't coming out very good. Everything ran together. And I hated the colors they gave us, so I started mixing and making my own.


Whose idea was it to paint peacock feathers on a damn tree?

I mean feathers are just too damn hard. Couldn't we have stuck to cherries or leaves or something? But feathers? Everyone hated the feathers.

Literally I was surrounded by this chatter from my fellow painters:

"My feathers look like fish."
"These feathers are horrible."
"Oh, yours is much better than mine."
"I hate these feathers."
"How did you do the feathers again?"

Meanwhile, I'm really in to the painting. I'm totally zoned out trying to beautify those damn peacock feathers. I was going to make those fish-eyed looking feathers gorgeous.

This is how I thought I was painting and how it really turned out.

By the end of the painting sesh, I was tired and kind of over it. There was no time for me to perfect my artwork, if you can call it that. I finished my final feather and threw my hands in the air. Over it.

As I peeked at others' and their artwork nearby, I was surprised to learn my art skills were more 4th grade level rather than kindergarten. FIST PUMP!

Just glad we didn't have to do a presentation at the end or something because I would have had to explain why my feathers are so damn dramatic.

This was a lot of fun, and I will definitely do another one.

Next time though, no feathers.

How are your art skills?

I hope yours are better than mine.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Real Talk

So I wrote this in April, I think. I'm in a better place now, but I was pretty down then. 

I'm not usually a depressing person. At least I'd like to think I'm not. But lately I've been in a funk.

I don't know if it was this longer winter that we've seemed to have in Texas (I know my Alaskan friends are rolling their eyes about now), but I've been down, sad and unable to snap out of it.

What the HELL is she talking about? Long winter? She lived in Alaska... 

It's true. I lived in Alaska where its notorious for its long winters and mother nature's cruel sense of humor. Around this time of year, the snow would begin to melt and you could finally see the grass (or what's left of it) make it's appearance for the first time in months. But then mother nature would shift gears in a "GOTCHA! mode" and it would snow like 12 inches the next day. As a matter of fact, it happened on April 28, 2008 (I remember because I recorded it) and it pissed me the EFF off.

And it would do this on and off again and again the entire month of April creating a dirty, muddy slush until it finally melts that final time, ending Winter and skipping into Spring (normally around the beginning of May).

Having experienced such frustration, I guess I can't necessarily blame my mood on the weather because Texas winters are less harsh, obvi.

So I'll be up front, wo-MAN up and admit it.

I'm probably depressed.

And I hate admitting that. Actually I don't know many people who do, and if they do, share it with people online. But, it's a real life problem.

Realizing that I'm not where I want to be in life has been a difficult truth to swallow. And staying at the house everyday doesn't always have the greatest perks. It just isn't cutting it like it used to, not that it really ever did. (Here's more about my life as a stay at home mom and the choice to return to life as a career-woman).

This time last year, I'd lost 20 lbs from running and taking Brody to the park every day. But the weather has been up and down, cold and dry, wet and muggy, it just hasn't been "spring-y" enough to get outside and get at it.

There is a stigma that goes along with that word--depression. And, that's why I think it's so hard for people to admit.

It's tough. There were days earlier this year where Klay would come home and I would just bawl. It's hard to think that I am jobless, and could remain jobless because my PR connections lack in Dallas. That's the whole problem with getting a degree in another state--especially one that is 4000 miles away.

Here I am with a bachelor's degree and six years of PR experience and I can't get a job. That can take its toll on you after a while.

Beyond that it's almost summer-time now, which means swimming, shorts, tank tops and lots of pool parties and what not. And, I am not a skinny gal; not any more. I was in high school, like size two skinny, but those years are long gone.

And you know all of that weight I lost last year? Pretty sure I gained it back. FML.

Despite all of these crappy, sulky, feeling-like-shit emotions, I am starting to feel some of my happiness return. Hallelujah!

Last Tuesday was the most amazing day. And it was all because of my boys.

They didn't surprise me with anything. I didn't get a huge bouquet of flowers or a singing telegram at the door.

It was a normal day.

Bro and I stayed home and relaxed. We just played all day. He played planes and cars in the living room and then we sang songs together.

It was calm and quiet and blissful.

Klay came home and by then I had a headache (which is nothing out of the ordinary for me), so he cooked dinner. But he's literally been the cook pretty much for the past few months because I just can't get motivated to stand over a stove after playing, changing diapers (he's not potty trained yet... another post for another day), and being frustrated in attempt to discipline the kid and/or the dogs.

I'm just exhausted.

So Klay made dinner and we ate, talked and danced in the kitchen with Brody. We do this a lot, but it's been a week or two since the last time we had a kitchen-dancing sesh.

Brody was having the time of his life and I enjoyed watching Klay and Brody dance and laugh. I've never seen a man so happy and in love with a kid. He loves Brody so much it makes my heart swell.

Then Klay started talking about our trip home from Alaska. I know, I know. We talk about this a lot, but only because it was a once in a lifetime experience that we hope we will get to do again one day.

I mean traveling for 17-days and going where ever we wanted to go and creating our own route as we went with no time constraints was absolutely incredible.

We experienced how beautiful life is beyond Texas state-lines, and it made us wonder if moving home was right for us. The world is a beautiful place and we were finally able to see some of it. 

Anyway, Klay said the sweetest thing.

"If something ever happened to us and we separated, I couldn't go more than a few seconds without thinking about you. We have too many memories together."

Ya'll, my husband is sexy and sweet but he doesn't spew out sweet lines like this very often. 

"Well yeah babe, our lives have been tied together for 10 years. And, we experienced so much after high school on our own when we lived in Alaska," I said.

And that got me thinking...

Even though, my life might not be where I want it to be, I am happy about one thing--my boys.

They make my world so much better.

Here I am now a month later writing...

They do make my world much better and, my spirits have lifted a lot. I've been a much more pleasant person to be around the last month or so.

Maybe it's the weather... but I'm happier.

Despite the fact that I'm still jobless (which still sucks), I have made dinner more lately (which Klay appreciates) and I'm trying to get back on track with exercising. I'm so physically unhappy with myself, it's difficult to walk by a mirror.

Plus, I don't want to have to wear capris all summer long, though I probably will anyway. I don't like to show these THUNDAH THIGHS.

I will say the one thing that has really lifted my spirits is this blog and all of you who read.

Thank you.

I'm finally starting to feel like I'm good at something again.

I really cherish every click, every like, every share and every comment.

I had an amazing day the other day, when two of my favorite bloggers (Helene and Sarah) commented on my post and had record views thanks to Holly's blog too (which is craze amaze; she's one of my faves too!) and comments from more people stopping to say 'hi'.

So I just wanted to thank all of you!

Thank you for helping me try to grow my blog and taking interest in me and what I have to say.

I hope I can brighten your day like you all have done mine!

You guys rock!


Monday, May 19, 2014

PART Two: That Time I Found Out I Was Pregnant

Read "That Time I Found Out I was Pregnant" first.

Brody @ 9 weeks
WTF is right. 

Now wasn't exactly the time I wanted to be pregnant.

We had just moved home. Yes, we were married for four years at that point, but we were living at my parents' house trying to find us some new digs.

But this meant I got knocked up in parents' house, as a married woman, and I'd be searching for a home with a deadline now; I'd definitely want to be in the house before the baby was born.

In shock, and after his "WTF" moment, Klay and I sat on separate couches and didn't talk or touch for 20 minutes. We'd done enough of all that.

We were stunned. We couldn't believe this was really happening.

I called my sister bawling. She calmed me down and assured me things would be OK. She guessed it before I ever said anything. Not sure how she knew. Well, I'm guessing the crying tipped her off.

We decided we were going to tell Klay's parents first. Their excitement would take away some of my worry when I told my mom and dad.

Yes, I was worried about what they'd say because we were living in their house, looking for a new place to live, and this wasn't exactly planned. Plus, now we had a time constraint to find the right house for the right price and move in and prepare the baby's room all in a matter of months.

I decided I wanted to find a cute way to announce it to both our parents. Klay's parents were up first.

My PLAN: Put a few balloons in a box and give it to his parents. When they opened it, the balloons would float up and say "Baby" and/or "Congrats" so they knew they were going to be grandparents.

And then, I thought, I'll get a plain balloon and write "Baby On The Way!" Genius, right?

I know, people do this all the time now for gender reveals, but this was waaaaayyyy before I got on Pinterest and became a pinning-whore. So at least I thought it was "genius."

Klay and I go to CVS. I'm still a complete basket case, and I nervously purchase three balloons, hoping no one we know sees us.

Here are the balloons I bought:
  1. "Congrats" 
  2. "Baby"
  3. And a plain one
I asked the fella that worked there for a marker and I wrote on them (while they're not inflated).

On the "Congrats" balloon, I write "grandparents" underneath the word "Congrats".

Then I started to write on the plain one.

Our last name is White for those you who don't know.

I'm a nervous wreck and scared someone we know will walk in and see what we are doing. So I'm trying to get this done as soon as possible.

I thoughtlessly wrote "White Baby On The Way!"

The guy who is about to blow up the balloons is Hispanic. He looks at it confused and looks up at me, like WTF?

Then it hit me.

"Oh. Oh, no! White is our last name," I shouted trying to rectify myself.

Klay laughed at me as the guy shook his head and went to blow up the balloons.


The last balloon I corrected and wrote "Baby White on the way!"

Either way, it was true. Baby White was on the way and we were having a white baby.

At least, we hoped Klay was the father.

HA! I kid, I kid.

Needless to say, his parents got a good laugh and everyone else at my expense.

We did the same thing with my parents except I put the right wording on the balloons this time so it didn't look like I was announcing the color of our unborn baby's skin. Um, I can only imagine what that guy thought when he saw my balloons...

PS. My mom and dad were happy when we announced it to them too. All of that worry was for nothin'...

And that's how I handled finding out I was pregnant.


Do you have any mishaps when you tried to announce you were knocked up?

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Hello New Readers!

I'm noticing I'm getting quite a few views thanks to Holly's shoutout over at "Where we can live like Jack and Sally." She totally rocks, right? I'm pretty much obsessed with her and I just want to ask her...

She's the best.

Anywho, I thought I'd make a post just for the newbies on my page.

Take a look at my "About Me" page--though I'll admit is pretty horrible; at least, I think so.

Who wants to write an about me? It's hell-a awkward. But you'll learn a little about me, my family, where I live (in Texas), etc etc.

But I can give you a quick rundown in 5 seconds.

  • I'm married to this hot guy I met in high school. He joined the Air Force. We were stationed in Alaska--BRRRR--where we lived for three years. Moving from TX to AK was a change, but...
  • We drove home from Alaska to Texas (documented on the blog) when he transitioned from Active Duty to the Reserves--moving back to Texas to be close to family.
  • He knocked me up only after nearly two months at home. We were living with my parents and trying to find a place to call our own. #fertilemertile
  • We had our son (who is now two years old), he's adorable and the light of my life and all that. He is. I'm not being sarcastic. I've been a stay at home mom since he was born--which means I'm about to go ape shit like 90 percent of the time. Get that 51 50 hold ready folks. She'll crack pretty soon. If you don't know what that is, look it up. Think Amanda Bynes.
  • Now I'm blogging and making the world laugh at me. Who knew this could be so much fun!? 

Also stop by the "Favorites" page. It has some of my most popular posts. If there is one you should read it would be "The Color Purple" and "Why I Hate My Vagina."

Oh, I went there.

And people thought it was hilarious. Go figure. Who doesn't love a little va-jay-jay talk to kick off your day?

Make sure to follow me on Instagram, Facebook and GFC. And feel free to comment below! I'd love to hear from ya!

When I Fell In Love at First Sight

This story is about the first time I fell in love at first sight. Yes, it happened to me, and no, it wasn't with my husband. Sorry, babe. 

This juicy story is about a fella I will not name, so some of the details will be vague. So, here it goes.

I walked into a room. It was mostly empty, but a few others scattered around. It didn't take me long to notice him. He looked up; his brown eyes following me as I neared him. 

His eyes and his hair were the first things I noticed. He was definitely the cutest in the room, at least from what I saw of it, but now my focus was on him. 

He watched me as I walked closer, weary if I would stop or not. But some unimaginable force pulled me toward him. I wasn’t able to just walk by, so I stopped as I came up next to him. His eyes drew me in as I sat down with him.

It was a bold move on my part. I knew if I stopped and spent any time with this handsome boy, I wouldn't be able to leave him. I spoke first and asked him his name. 

He was sweet and a little shy. I could tell he wanted me to stay. There was something I could see in his eyes that told me had been hurt before. I knew I wouldn’t be able to refuse him. I needed to learn more about him and where he came from.

In a matter of minutes I could tell he felt the same about me as I did him.

We decided to get some privacy and moved into another room. This room had a few chairs to sit, but we opted for the floor so we could be closer to each other. 

He playfully flirted with me and I was hooked. He was adorable and a little timid, but he was going to be mine; there was no doubt about it. 

But I belonged to another--to Klay. Yes, I was with Klay. In fact, Klay was in the building with me when I met him.

I know that sounds terrible. 

How could I want this and be in love and in a relationship--a happy relationship--with another?

I wasn't thinking about it then. I was living in the moment. I wanted to get to know him.

And then out of nowhere he kissed me. I'd just met him and he kissed me.

I was smitten. 

Though I wasn’t sure how to explain this all to Klay.

When I left the room, I immediately found and told Klay what happened. He was calm, but a little unsure, yet he told me he understood. We all aren't perfect, guys, so my husband gave me a hall pass.

But with the pass came a catch--he wanted to meet the fella who kissed me.

So I went and nervously introduced them. I wanted Klay to like him and understand some of us have connections with each other right off the bat. 

He wasn’t what Klay expected, but Klay and him really hit it off, even though he'd just kissed his gal. 

Klay even invited him to come stay with us. Weird right?

The fella was in between places at the moment. 

Yall, he even slept in our bed--it's a king size so we all fit. It was the only place he could sleep. 

We learned a lot about him. He had been hurt in his past. He was lonely and looking for love--and wanted to be a part of a family. 

And guess what? We still talk to him daily. 

Our relationship is complicated though. Some days he likes me, other days he want nothing to do with me. And it’s the same with Klay.

His downfall: he's a little clingy and moody.

I mean just the other day he snapped at me when I asked him to move over.

But those eyes get me every time. I won’t break it off even when I'm mad at him--even when he tears up something of mine for attention. I can't do it. 

He let's me know when he's mad, he hates thunderstorms and he has definitely the biggest weenie I've ever seen.

Did I say HAS? Oh I meant he IS the biggest weenie I've ever seen.

If you haven't figured it out now, I'm talking about my 24-pound weenie dog Billie. 

This post is a vague account of how I first saw him locked in a cage at an animal shelter. 

Billie was my love affair. I love that little guy. I mean who wouldn't fall in love with this sweet face!?

Hope you guys were wondering what the EFF was going on! LOL.

Sorry, I couldn't help myself!

Reppin' my second link up evaaaaaahh.

So, I'm linking up w/ some fellow bloggin' gals! This is my second link up LIKE ever--and this one is extra awesome because anyone can participate! 

How you ask?

With that simple little four-lined symbol that I'm guilty of using all too much—the hashtag—duh!

Simply add #totalsocial with your post about a “first” on your Twitter, Instagram or Facebook, whichever social media site/app suits you. 

Two incredibly amazing gals I stalk follow, Helene In Between & Venus Trapped In Mars are the hosts of this NEW monthly linkup! If you're not following them, you're missing out on some good shizzz.

So the theme for this month is firsts--since this was the time I fell in love at FIRST sight, I guess this counts right!?

 Tell everyone about your first anything--the first time you kissed a boy, your first Instagram post, your first day of school, your first drink of alcohol or whatever suits your fancy!

C’mon you can do it, it will be fun! 
I believe in you. 
OK. Just do it so I have something to look at on social media, please!? I'm getting tired of hearing about "Roman having an OK day, getting a Coke ZERO and raising the roof!"


If you don't know it, then you won't get an 'A' in movie lit. ;)

Tag me too if you want, I’d love to see what you post!

Helene in Between

Are you linking up!? What's a good first story that you wanna share?

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

That time I found out I was pregnant

You know how you imagined the way it would feel to announce that you're pregnant to the man of your dreams?

The romance music is playing as he picks you up and swings you around in circles elated by the news. You imagine yourself being the happiest woman on earth.

Well that's how it happened for me. Music played, Klay swung me around in circles, and we laughed in excitement about our new bundle of joy.



To be honest, it didn't even come close.

And no, before you get any ideas, this isn't a post to announce that I'm currently pregnant. My uterus is empty and I like that way--for now. ;)

Let me take you back to the year 2011.

We had been married for four years and just moved home from Alaska. He had just transitioned from active duty Air Force to the Reserves so we could be closer to home to raise a family one day; "one day" meaning a year or two later.

We'd wrapped up our 17-day trip from Alaska to Texas (documented on this blog for you newbies)... and had only been back in Texas for about a month or so.

And, we were living with my parents.

Yes, my parents.

BUT we were searching for a place of our own.

Well, I stopped taking the pill because it was making me have my menstrual for two weeks. #aintnobodygottimeforthat

Seriously my lady problems are going to be the death of me.

SO, I'd planned on going back to the doctor to sort out my birth control options once we got things settled in at my parents' place.

Let's fast forward to the beginning of July.

I started not feeling so great. I felt different than I ever had before. I mean there were a few times I thought I was pregnant in the past, when we lived in Alaska, but I'd get my period and it would be done. #phewthatwasclose

But this time it was very, very different. Everything in my body was screaming that something wasn't off. From my sore boobs and constipation to being late, I just knew I was knocked up.

I told Klay this and he gave me that "Oh, I've heard this before" look and shrugged it off.

I'd reply, "No, I know I'm pregnant, I know it this time. I know it."

Of course I got online to google "menstrual cycle" and checked out the graphics to try to determine if we had sex when I was ovulating. We had, so that only confirmed that I was, at least in my mind.

My parents had gone out of town for the weekend to Oklahoma, so we had the house to ourselves.

So I left early one morning and headed to CVS to buy a pregnancy test. I opted for the Clearblue test that actually says "pregnant or not pregnant." I didn't want some little double lines confusing me when I took the test. #spellitoutforme

I came back, took the test and set it on the counter.

I walked in the kitchen to throw away the CVS bag, and went straight back to the bathroom and I saw the word...



My heart pounded as I couldn't believe what I'd read.

I walked out of the bathroom in tears with the test in-hand.
Klay looks at me trying to gauge my reaction.

He knew I was taking the test and the first words out of his mouth once he sees my face is:
"You're not?"



"Really? I'm pregnant," I said.

"Nuh-uh. You're lying," he walked toward me now with some umph in his step.

"Look at it," I handed the test to him.

He grabbed it and stared.
His eyes widened.
He didn't smile or laugh or pick me up and swing me around.
He just stared.

He was clearly as rattled as I was.

The next three words that came out of his mouth weren't exactly the words I thought I would hear when I told my husband I was pregnant.

He uttered three words.

Three little words that weren't as beautiful as the image I had engrained in my head on the way this whole pregnancy announcement would go.

He said:

What the F**K.

Do you have a good pregnancy announcement story? I want to hear it.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Thanks, Mom.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's, mama's, mommies, momma's, and ma's everywhere.

I want to say a special thank you to MY MOM.

For those of you who don't know her, her name is Joni. She was a stay at home mom for pretty much my entire life and this post is dedicated to her so, here it goes...

Thanks, Mom.

Thanks Mom for all the times you took care of me when I was sick. Except for the time I had the chicken pox and you had to send me away because you've never had the pox before.

Thanks Mom for all of the softball games, cheer practices and school events you came to. I don't remember you missing many, and if you did, you were at Brit's (that's my sister for you newbies) school functions, but you always made sure someone was there to watch me.

Thanks Mom for the Super-sized tampon you and Brit had me try out that VERY first time I started my period and for laughing when it got stuck. You guys obviously didn't think that one through. 

Thanks Mom for being by my side every time a boy broke my heart. You were my rock through all the tears and listened to how "devastated" I was to learn they were complete and total douchebags.

Thanks Mom for telling me I'm pretty even when I'm 40 pounds overweight, no make up on and feel like Sloth from "The Goonies."

Thanks Mom for being the cool parent in school all my friends wanted to hang out with--sometimes they talked more to you than me.

Thanks Mom for being the parent who listened to "Sweet Lady" by Tyrese and "Errrbody in the Club Gettin' Tipsy." Because of your awesome taste in music (except for your love for the Commodores) and your rad dance moves, my friends created a dance move called "The JONI" where they drove and did a Night-At-The-Roxbury like head-bob. Thanks for being "that" mom.

Thanks Mom for bringing my homework to school when I forgot it. And for starting all those school projects sometimes even before I got home because I waited til the last minute. Most of 'em I got 'A's' and they were the best in class, thanks to your artistry.

Thanks Mom for surprising me sometimes with a magazine or a cute shirt when I got home from school. I never knew what might be laying on my bed when I got home from school. Sometimes it was nothing, but I appreciated that you surprised me every once in a while. Those were the good ole days. If I only still got treatment like that from my husband.

Thanks Mom for loving me even though I flip my shit sometimes and totally go off the rocker. And thanks for telling me I'm not crazy, I'm just stressed, and then telling me that I should call Klay and have him bring home a bottle o' wine.

Thanks Mom for calling me every day I lived in Alaska. I don't think you missed a day, except for the time Klay and I went camping in the Alaskan wilderness and you almost sent the National Guard after us because you haven't heard from us in a day or two.

Thanks Mom for worrying about me even when I don't know I need it. Even though I'm 26, you still want to make sure I'm OK and I make it home safe. I'm a mom now, and you're right, I do understand why "parents worry about their kids."

Thanks Mom for coming up to the hospital without me having to ask when Brody had his seizure in the car on that terrible November night. I was so upset and terrified, but my worry eased some when you arrived at the hospital. There is something about a mom being there when your sick or your child is sick that can make things better.

Thanks Mom for allowing me to know what it was like having a stay at home mom growing up. I was never scared to call home if I didn't feel well or sometimes when I was cough, cough "sick" and you came to get me even though you knew I was trying to pull a fast one.

Thanks Mom for breaking up Britney and I from fighting that one time she kept trying to pop my first pimple. I'll never forget how upset I was for having a pimple and then my sister antagonizing me to let her pop it, which turned into an argument where you sent us both to our rooms. Pimple popping was clearly not a good reason for almost going all WWE in the living room floor.

Thanks Mom for allowing me to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and becoming a fan yourself. I'll never forget the Buffy marathons where we closed the blinds all weekend and had a rerun Buffy-a-thon and did nothing but be lazy couch potatoes the entire weekend.

Thanks Mom for not tearing up my "Adventures in Babysitting" and "Beetlejuice" video tapes even though I watched them about 8 times a day. I knew every word, every song and even dance moves to the musical numbers and you still never tossed the tapes out the window.

Thanks Mom for making custom made costumes all those years. Whether I was Lydia from "Beetlejuice" or Jasmine from "Aladdin," my costumes were always better than the store-bought kind.

Thanks Mom for being the best "GiGi" to my Brody. He loves you so much and he always wants to go to "GiGi's hooooouse." Apparently you're a lot cooler than me--not only with my high school friends, but now with my kid too.

Thanks Mom for taking pictures like this. I'll never forget you wanting to get a good photo at 7 a.m. before Britney and I went to school. I guess you wanted to use them for Christmas cards and we just weren't having it. 

I honestly can't thank you for everything you've done for me because we'd be here for a month, and to be honest, I don't remember it all. Sometimes it may seem like I'm not appreciative of you making dinner or coming to pick up Brody or watching the dogs, but I do. 

I appreciate you.
I love you.
And you're the best mom anyone could ever want. 
Thanks for being such a bad ass.

Happy Mother's Day!

Friday, May 09, 2014

Part 2: New Orleans Trip + French Quarter Festival

Read Part 1 first.

So this story starts with where we ended in the first post--coming back to the hotel by 3 a.m.

We were in NOLA--the land where night always ends on Bourbon Street, the jazz music is a playing and beads are thrown at you no matter the time of year.

So the truth be told, when you're on Bourbon Street and you cannot NOT have drinks. That would be just wrong!

We lived it up, we drank, we ate and we drank some more.

As soon as we got back to our hotel room, Klay stripped and fell on the bed passing out within minutes.

I still had to take off my make up. After I "attempted" to remove my makeup (this makes me super annoyed I can't just hop into bed like a dude...), I walked out to see him sprawled on the bed.


Let's just say when I woke him to ask him to move over, he started to feel ick-y.

And he continued that way for a while. I stayed up with him of course, but I was so tired from the road trip, and we had little sleep the night before--plus I had been drinking--so I was beyond ready to hit the sheets, especially before the room started spinning.

Luckily I got him in bed and I in bed in one piece. That morning I woke and felt a tinge of headache emerging so I popped some Excedrin Migraine--that's my shit--and went back to sleep. #whenItravelItakethemedicinecabinet

We didn't wake up til 11. We were pooped. And had a liiiiittle too much fun. Just a little.

I showered and got ready to start the day. I wasn't going to waste the day away in bed.

And, Klay...


He had a slower start to the day... he was still sluggish and still feeling all sickish and whatnot. We definitely can't party like we used to.

Bourbon Street: 1

Klay and Cass: -3

By the time we were ready to head out to meet Cami and Jeremiah at the Festival it was 12:30 or so.

We were starving.

And tired.

And my feet felt like I'd walked barefoot on a bed of rocks for two weeks. #holysmokestheyhurt

I'd wore the first and only pair of gladiator sandals I own (which I had just purchased) and the super-thin sole literally made me stump my toes on the curb about 394839 times throughout the night. Anyone else experience this problem?

When we found Cami and Jeremiah and they were already back on the alcohol train. Klay and I just needed food and needed it fast. So I hopped in line at the festival and ordered my first ever shrimp po' boy! Holy hell, it was craze amaze.

After eating some grub we started to feel much better. We walked around by the water and around the French Quarter admiring the art, the music and the buildings--and dare I say it--even had a few beers. My inner partier is still in there somewhere.

We walked around for a few hours, but my feet and back were begging me to give 'em a break so we stopped in a little restaurant to kick up our feet and relax, but it was fancy schmancy.

Ugh, these two were in their own little world. #bromanceabrewing

And this girl with her turtle soup, WTF!

All we pretty much did for about 7 hours was walk, talk, watch the little performances on the side of the street, and eat A LOT.

After our fancy meal, we ate again only three hours later. #piggies #fancyfooddoesntfillourtummies

This time I tried some alligator and fried oysters. They were delish!

It was now around 8 p.m. or so and well we had forgotten to do something we were supposed to do the day before. Remember anything?

We finally realized we didn't pay the parking fee in the public parking where my car was.

We were already three hours overdue, so if something had happened, it had probably already happened. So we decided we'd handle it on the way back to the hotel.

After chowing down for the 32389 time that day, we decided to go gamble at Harrah's. Cami and I left the fellas at the roulette table and went and did our own thing. I played a few slot machines with no luck, but found some luck on the penny machines again.

We ended the night (or Klay did) coming out 95 dollars ahead.

We left Harrah's and headed back to the hotel, calling it a night. We couldn't handle a round two on Bourbon Street, especially since we had to drive 7 hours the next day.

We asked the cab driver to pull in the lot where we parked and found my car...


WTF. Good times. I'll give you a minute to soak up all this awesomeness.


We called the parking people and they told us it would be a $90 removal fee.


Praise lil eight pound baby Jesus, Klay won some more money at Harrah's!

We could have should have parked valet for 80 bucks for two nights and instead we paid $110 for parking because of the damn boot.

From the shitty bed and breakfast, the bed breaking (when Klay sat on it) to witnessing a wreck 20 feet from us (while we were on foot) and Klay having to throw away his $50 pocket knife to having a boot on our car, this NOLA trip was definitely a challenging one.

The good times though definitely out-weighed the bad.

This is us, the next day, waiting for the boot-removal "police" to come remove the boot. We weren't too happy.

We decided we'd go take a few pics with my "good" camera before we rolled out of NOLA for good. 

So we hit up Bourbon Street again and I took a few good pics--like two. OK OK, five. I did manage to find and take a photo at Willie's Chicken (where we ate at 2 a.m. the night before and the next day I talked and talked about how delish the food was and NO ONE remembered). So Klay and I hit it up before we left--and he remembers how amazing it was this time. ;)

nola beads

new orleans

french quarter festival

chicken new orleans

willies chicken

daytime bourbon

This trip was by far one of the funnest and most epic trips we've been on in a while.

A bed was broke,
A car was wrecked,
A knife was trashed,
A car was booted,
Money was lost,
Drinks were drank,
Songs were sung,
Memories were made,
and a bromance was born.

This is what happened errrrrry time we asked them to take a pic of us. Meanwhile, we're standing and posing thinking we are being photographed.

So NOLA, we will be back.

Until next time,

Thursday, May 08, 2014

Women Always Go To Bed Last

Every night, I'm the last one to pull back my covers and hop into bed.

The reason: I have to do 622782 million things before bed before I can go to sleep.

Meanwhile, Klay brushes his teeth, showers and settles into bed long before I hit the sheets.

This really effing bothers me. 

And, I'm not really sure why.

I literally look like this every time I see him in bed, snug as a bug in a rug.

Don't hate on my Buffy references.

Maybe it's because I always forget things I need before bed.

Meanwhile Klay lays in bed comfortably checking his phone, emails, FB or whatevs. And I'm still moving about trying to get everything together.

But here goes my nightly rundown:

First, I have to take off my makeup. 

I freaking hate this part of the day. I'm either taking off my make up or hopping in the shower. And on top of that I have to brush my teeth AND dry my hair if I wash it. UGH. #girlprobs

Second, I have to have a glass of ice water by the bed--every night.

Usually it's still full the next morning--usually--but on occasion I drink the whole thing. That also means more bathroom trips because my pea-sized bladder can't hold it until I wake up. How I feel every time I wake up during the night and have to "go"... #smallbladderprobs

Then, I finally get in bed relieved to finally lay down after doing my nightly cleansing rituals.

Only to realize I forgot something. Whether it's my phone, a favorite pillow, checking the thermostat, taking medicine or going to the bathroom, I'm up and down, up and down and in and out of the bedroom for about 30 minutes prior to bedtime. #neverfails #arielisthebestprincess

Thirty minutes later (and Klay's been snug in bed for a long time), I throw myself into bed tired, exhausted and I'm still probably going to have to get up to pee again.

As soon as I hit the sheets, Klay looks over at me and then I get "the look." He probably thinks it looks like this...

BUT he really looks like this... 

Two minutes later... 
I kid, I kid. 

But later... 

I finally get settled in bed, but then I'm all...

Meanwhile, Klay's already...

And I'm back at looking like this again...

Meanwhile in my brain...

The nighttime struggle is real ya'll. 

Ya feel me?

Monday, May 05, 2014

Holy Shizz It's Mother's Day, Already?

I hate Mother's Day.

Sorry, Mom. It's not about you, I promise.

That sounds terrible, I know.

And even worse because I'm a mom now. BUUUUUUTTT... hear me out.

I should probably just rephrase.

I hate Mother's Day BECAUSE I stress out when trying to figure out gifts for the mom's in our lives. And it's the same for Father's Day too.

I always try to be proactive and leave notes for myself weeks before Mother's Day on my computer and in my planner so I have time to brainstorm ideas for the best presents ever...buuuuuuuuutt then the week finally arrives and my ideas go out the window.

Cass, is there a holiday you like?

Um... Thanksgiving and Christmas guys. That's about it.

Most holidays come with so much pressure. And I always have good intentions to find the right gift, the right costume or the right plans. But I find in most cases not much works out in my favor and time is never really on my side; it always sneaks up on me and then I'm last-minute gal again.

At least that's how it's been since having a kid. I feel so behind on everything.

But it's those pesky May and June holidays I dread.

Needless to say, if you're a family member for mine who I happen to buy a gift for, you'll most likely get a good ole fancy card and gift card.

Thoughtful, I know. But you get to get what you want with it right?

But now with Pinterest and the internet, I feel even more pressure to make every gift super personal. And I love crafting and sometimes I have good ideas--only sometimes--so you'd think I'd be all up in it like it's a cheesecake.

Not exactly.

I stress about anything and everything.


Since Mother's Day is May 11th (this weekend), I thought I'd compile a list of some ideas for Mother's Day gifts. No need to check the date guys, I'm smart and I googled.

Jewelry is always a good option. Check out this coordinates necklace. You can put the exact coordinates of a place that means a lot to you or the person you're giving it too. Maybe put the coordinates where you first met your spouse, or for Mom, where her kids where born, or her favorite place to travel. #thoughtfulgiftawardgoesto

If it's too late for that, you could always pocket that idea for the next birthday and buy her a statement necklace instead. It's all the rage this season! Just about every store has them.

You could even make a basket with a statement necklace, a gift card (gotta sneak that in somewhere) to Charming Charlie or another store and include some nail polish and other fun girly items! The statement necklace below is only $9.80! #forthatpriceIcanbuytwo

For the husbands who are purchasing gifts for their wives, check out what your gal is pinning and which boutiques she follows on Instagram, Facebook and Pinterest. Looking at or what she follows may give you some ideas on what to buy or which gift card to purchase! She'll be surprised you know which stores she's been keeping up with. #browniepoints #yourwelcome

You could also buy her some awesome mascara. At $29.99 plus shipping, you can't go wrong with Younique's 3D Fiber Mascara. It's something she wants, but doesn't want to buy for herself. And it freaking rocks. Check out my personal review of the product here. And purchase it here.

Here's one of my favorite stores I follow, shop Riff Raff.

And for the Grandma's with newer grandbabies which may require spending the night else where...

So an overnight bag may be a great surprise for her with added incentive she gets to come stay over with her kids and grand kids! This one is on the pricer side at $225, but you could always find cheaper options at stores like Target, JCPenney and even TJ Maxx. #overnightstaysarethebest

And if it were me, the one item I don't think anyone can ever, ever go wrong with (when it comes to a woman) is a spa-related gift. My feet are SCARY and embarrassing. I'm probably endangering the public with my freakishly long nails and toenails, but I hate spending the money to pamper myself!

I always feel better when someone pays for a medi/pedi and/or a massage and gives it to me. TIP: Don't just make it an hour massage ladies and gents, at least do an hour and a half and include a bottle o' wine with the gift card to make it an exceptionally a relaxing day. #wineandmassagemakesthebestdays

What are you getting your mom for Mother's Day? 


What do you want this Mother's Day?