It Needs to NOT Be Normal

Content Warning: Sexual Harassment, Sexual Assault, Victim Blaming

For 11 years, 3 months, and 9 days, I have been married to the greatest human being I have ever met. My husband truly is an incredible man. He is kind, caring, compassionate, and just all around wonderful. I am incredibly lucky to share my life with him, raise our children with him, and call him my best friend. But, you know, I wasn't always so lucky. 

I have been sexually harassed (SH) and sexually assaulted (SA) more times than I can count. By boyfriends, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and authoritative figures. I honestly don't even know where to begin. I'm not afraid of saying I've been SH/SA, but I also haven't told any of my stories.

Why? Why haven't I told anyone?

Because our society is a victim blaming one. We worry more about the nice guys who had their whole lives ahead of them more than we worry about their victims. We worry more about the sweet father figures and their lives being turned upside down more than we worry about their victims. We worry more about the affluent guys who earn their careers by working hard more than we worry about their victims. I haven't told anyone because I was positive no one would believe me. I haven't told anyone because I thought it was normal. I haven't told anyone because I was told boys will be boys. I haven't told anyone because I was told boys are sexual creatures who only want one thing. I haven't told anyone BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS NORMAL. It is normal. But it shouldn't be. This should not be normal. Women being sexually harassed and sexually assaulted should not be normal.

Why am I talking about it now?

Because I'm part of the flood. I read an article yesterday that explained it so well:

Have you ever watched videos of dams breaking? It starts with a leak, some space in the wall that hasn’t been patched well enough or made thick enough to hold a trickle of water. One woman is the trickle, and in her path more can follow until the wall falls down, crumbles under the pressure of all that water, and nothing can be held back any longer. I’ve watched this happen in diners, in classrooms, in small booths at dirty bars like some kind of twisted icebreaker. One person shares, then another, and then the dam breaks. This is what it means to grow up. This is what it means to become a woman.

https://www.villagevoice.com/2017/10/12/almost-every-single-woman-i-know-has-been-the-victim-of-sexual-assault/

Women get tips on how to stay safe while getting dressed in the morning, walking to school, walking home from school, leaving work during the day, leaving work at night... we have special tools marketed for us specifically to help keep us safe in the event that we are attacked.

We are told to go to the bathroom in groups. (Yes, guys. THAT is why we go to the bathroom in groups. That is why we tell the women we are in a group with: "I'm have to use the restroom," and why the other women get up and go with us.)

We are taught to put our keys between our fingers. We have pink pepper spray in our purses and our cute cat key chains that you can put your fingers through like precious brass knuckles, meant to gouge at our assailants. Spray and gouge them!

We are taught to ignore those who honk and whistle at us, even though they don't stop until we look at them. And when we show we are visibly uncomfortable, they laugh at how pathetic we look then proceed to make kissy faces and other inappropriate gestures.

We have been taught to be quiet, as to not draw attention to ourselves. Loud girls get noticed. Don't be too pretty, pretty girls get noticed. Don't dress in a skirt, or in shorts, or in shirts, don't wear things that hug your body, girls who wear form fitting or revealing clothing get noticed. 

When guys won't stop bothering us, we are taught to tell them we have a boyfriend, because men only respect other men. Property lines and all that.

We are taught to not put our drinks down. Hold them as soon as we get them and keep them close, because someone might put something in it. There are even folks working on nail polish you can wear that changes colors when it comes in contact with drugs commonly slipped into drinks.

People have written hundreds of apps for our phones, designed to keep women safe and call a trusted person as soon as we let go of the button because we've probably been abducted.

There are underwear designed as modern chastity belts, so men have a harder time tearing them off to rape us.

A google search of "women's safety" brings back about 305,000,000 results, talking about tips and tricks and group efforts and classes and hidden deterrents that you can whip out to save yourself... a google search for "men's safety" returns about 89,500,000 results, and they're all for men who do manual labor, like neon vests and steel toe work boots and safety glasses and gloves... 

305,000,000 vs 89,500,000. 

305 MILLION results with tips on how women can save themselves when attacked. 

89.5 million on what work boots are best for guys who work construction.

...

I am not naive. I am not stupid. I know men are SH/SA, too. I am sorry for your experiences, and I hope we as a society can collectively be educated to make better choices, ask for consent, and treat people with kindness and compassion. 

I do have a question, though, for those men who keep shouting that at us while we try to let you know just about every single woman you know has experienced and regularly experiences SH/SA.

I ask you*, how do you get ready for your day? What do you do to deter a potential attack? What steps do you take to (hopefully) ensure you won't be sexually harassed or assaulted today? 

What do you do? 

I encourage you to ask a woman how they get ready for their day. Ask them what they do to deter a potential attack. Ask them what steps they take to (hopefully) ensure they won't be sexually harassed or assaulted that day. Learn about our experiences.

*This question is inspired by Jackson Katzs: The Macho Paradox.

...

Listen, I know this is a large pill to swallow. It is. But unpacking your privilege and recognizing it is exactly what is going to help us. All of us. Not just women. Stand up and speak up. Do not be quiet. Do not ignore it. Do not turn your cheek to it. Look at it head on, call it what it is, make people uncomfortable, and say something.

...

When I was young, I did what I knew how to do. I survived, carried on with my life, and did the best I knew how to do. I know better, now. Which is why I am speaking up. It's why I am teaching my children the right things. It's why I'm honest with the people I hold close to me. And why I am writing this. I know better, and I am doing better. And I encourage you all to do the same.

...

I will end this with the words of Maya Angelou, because she is so much more eloquent than I am. 

“I don’t know if I continue, even today, always liking myself. But what I learned to do many years ago was to forgive myself. It is very important for every human being to forgive herself or himself because if you live, you will make mistakes- it is inevitable. But once you do and you see the mistake, then you forgive yourself and say, ‘Well, if I’d known better I’d have done better,’ that’s all. So you say to people who you think you may have injured, ‘I’m sorry,’ and then you say to yourself, ‘I’m sorry.’ If we all hold on to the mistake, we can’t see our own glory in the mirror because we have the mistake between our faces and the mirror; we can’t see what we’re capable of being. You can ask forgiveness of others, but in the end the real forgiveness is in one’s own self. I think that young men and women are so caught by the way they see themselves. Now mind you. When a larger society sees them as unattractive, as threats, as too black or too white or too poor or too fat or too thin or too sexual or too asexual, that’s rough. But you can overcome that. The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself. If we don’t have that we never grow, we never learn, and sure as hell we should never teach.”

 ― Maya Angelou

*This post was written by a CisHet woman and her experiences growing up in a fairly gender normative society. I recognize the LGBTTQQIAAP community, I support them and the challenges they face every day.

One Day You're In, and the Next Day, You're Out

"As you know in fashion-- one day you're in, the next day, you're out."
~Heidi Klum, every Project Runway episode ever in the history of forever.

This is important, because the fashion umbrella covers cosmetics just as much as it covers garments.

I remember going to tiny little boutique clothing stores with very cheaply made clothing in sizes that were so horribly inaccurate, and finding NYX eyeliner and small lipsticks. They used to be the cheapest makeup you could find. On par with Wet n' Wild and NYC. When people started talking about it again, I thought it was a joke.

As a contrast, I also remember going to Sephora when it used to be a fragrance creation boutique.

Remember when Sephora color coded their fragrances?

When they started adding makeup, my mind exploded... Urban Decay!! And Hard Candy!! Urban Decay boasted a gritty, grungy attitude for the kids coming into the makeup world riding on the flannel coattails of grunge. It was cute, but edgy. It was great quality, but it was affordable. 

The Hard Candy display at Sephora

Hard Candy was like the kid sister of Urban Decay, attracting a younger group, and inching into the brightly colored plastic jeweled world of ravers. They put plastic jewel rings on their nail polish! Hard Candy was one of my favorite brands of all time. The quality was incredible, it was fun, and it was all-around great brand!

I still have an original Hard Candy eyeshadow quad!

NYX has come a LONG way... and Hard Candy has fallen, well, hard. Nyx is rising to the top in every drug store out there. Beauty bloggers are singing its praises. Basically, I will be surprised if NYX isn't sold in Sephora within the next 5 years. And do you know where Hard Candy is now? Walmart. It's in Walmart.

Keep an eye on the future of fashion, because your favorite high end beauty brand could be on the bottom before you know it.

How Do I Learn to Love my Body?

The New Me

I want to start this by saying there will be some graphic descriptions of my miscarriage below.

Please use discretion while reading, and take this as a trigger warning for miscarriage.

Thank you.

Hi there! My name is Melody. I am happily married to the most wonderful man, and I have two adorable children, a boy and a girl. I have two dogs, and two cats. We own our home, and I am a stay-at-home-mommy for my babies. From the outside, my life is just perfect.

12 months ago, my world was rocked and my life changed forever.

On Valentine's Day, February 14th, 2014, at 2:30am, I woke up to labor pains. I could feel my uterus contract every few minutes. After already having two children, I knew what contractions felt like. I was laboring in my back as well. I figured the safest place for me to be was in the bathroom. I sat on the toilet. Watered down blood gushed out of me with every contraction. After about 30 minutes or so, I essentially gave birth. 

Everything I could get my hands on said that a fetus at that gestational age, if naturally miscarried, would come out in pieces, and would be unrecognizable to the eye. There wouldn't be "body parts" it would just look like thick uterine lining. I even looked up images to see if I could find anything to prepare myself for the inevitable. Nothing prepared me. Nothing.

My baby came out whole. I was able to pull it out of me. It was a baby. It was tiny. It was about an inch and a half long, and it fit in the palm of my hand. I worked hard to stand up and go to the sink. I carefully cleaned my baby off. In my heart of hearts, I knew it was a girl. I was able to put her hand on the tip of my pinky finger. I cried the quietest, biggest, wettest, hottest tears I've ever cried. My head was pounding, I was weak (yet still able to lean on the sink), and I couldn't fathom the why.

There likely was a medical reason for whatever happened... my hormone levels may have been off. My body was not fit to grow another life. The baby may not have attached properly. There could be any number of reasons as to why I had a miscarriage, but none of them help me feel better. I already had two very successful pregnancies, why not this one? Why?

After about 30 more minutes, I carefully put the baby on some toilet paper, gently wrapped her up, slid her in the water, and sadly, flushed the baby down the toilet.

It broke my heart. It changed me.

For the last 12 months, I've been struggling with seemingly insurmountable depression, while still needing to be the steady and constant mommy for my little ones. While still wanting to be the wife and friend I've always been. While still wishing I could be me, the me I knew, the me I always had been.

The me I always had been isn't the me I am now.

This is the new me.

The last 12 months have shaped my life, not for the better or worst. I'm still me, I'm just in a different place. I have had experiences that have changed my life. It's still my life, I still want it, and I love it.

Yes, I had a miscarriage. But I've also helped my husband rescue an adorable 7 week old kitten from our engine! My husband and I got to spend our anniversary in Beverly Hills! We took an incredible weekend trip to Palm Springs! We got to sit just a few feet away from Paul McCartney while he performed for the first time at the Dodgers Stadium in LA in 48 years. We saw the most amazing orchestral performance of Danny Elfman's Music from the Films of Tim Burton, which included Danny Elfman singing his songs from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Our son is going to be starting Kindergarten in just a few months, and my daughter was in an editorial photo shoot. We visited family in Michigan for the first time in our entire marriage! I've made so many new friends and have developed so many wonderful relationships. 

I can't dwell on the bad times, because there were so many incredible times.

The miscarriage was a terrible, horrible experience that I wouldn't wish on anyone. It put me in a club no one wants to be a part of. But I've done so many fantastic things with the people that I love...

Who knows what the next 12 months have in store for the new me?

Way to be offensive, Target.

Hi, I'm Melody, and I love Target... even though I'm incredibly angry at them right now.

I can get everything I need for me, my kids, my husband, my pets, and my house in one convenient location! As a stay at home mom, it's really helpful to be able to go to one place and get everything I need, especially since I have to run most errands with my kids. My husband hates it because he thinks I spend too much money there... but it's only because they have e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.!!!

I'm a typical 28 year old stay at home mom... we live in Southern California, we own our home, I have a son and a daughter, I dye my hair (because gray hair -for me- sucks), and I have tattoos.

I'm all for tattoo acceptance and tolerance, among other things. So guess my surprise when my friend posted a picture of a Halloween Costume marketed towards men.

I'm posting the link and screenshot, straight from Target's website.

Adult Prisoner Kit

I'm sorry outraged, WHAT IS THIS? What is this supposed to mean? You give a guy an orange button up shirt and a set of tattoo sleeves and now he's a "prisoner?" This is a "prisoner" kit? Why is this okay? Why do you think this is an appropriate costume? Why are we still associating tattoos with "prisoners?" 

Tattoos are (almost always) beautiful pieces of art, created for the owner. They mean something to the owner, created either by them or the artist.

 I am a mother, wife, daughter, sister, cousin, granddaughter, and niece. I have 14 tattoos, and every single one is so, so important to me. I've designed most of them, and a couple were designed by my artist, with a specific vision in mind. They are me, it's my heart on my sleeve

Your doctor might have tattoos. Your attorney may have tattoos. Your grandfather might have tattoos. Your best friend might have tattoos. As of 2012, one in five adults has a tattoo. In the last 2 years, it's gone up 13%, and approximately 30% of the US population has a tattoo.

It's 2014. Can we please stop judging people for having tattoos?

Haven't we made it clear that anyone can have tattoos? No...? Well here you go:

ANYONE CAN HAVE TATTOOS. 

Target, this is offensive. I hope you realize that, now. With all the other judgmental crap going on in the world, why dp you go to tattoos? Come on...

Please, stop judging people with tattoos.

Stop it.

stop it.

Guest Entry: My Weight Loss Journey, by Mike Calvert

Hi everyone!! I'm very excited to have the most important man in my life share a contribution on my blog.

Over the last 6 years, my husband has gone from smoking 3-4 packs a day, to gaining weight (up to 300 lbs!), to being medicated for the rest of his life, to losing over 140 lbs.

Last month, I had seen a few articles with the Huffington Post from other people telling their weight loss stories. I suggested my husband write his own story, just so he could have it and re-read it if he needed motivation in the future. Well, maaaybe I sent it to Huffington Post ;) There is no way this man's story wouldn't be inspirational to others, and if your story can change someone's life for the better, why not share it?

They loved what he wrote, and they published it this morning, though they compressed his story for length.

Here is the full, uncompressed story from the most amazing man I know, my husband, Mr. Michael Calvert!!

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My Weight Loss Journey

Name: Mike Calvert

Age: 29

Height: 5'11"

Before Weight: 300 pounds

I was 20 when I met my wife. I had been smoking like a chimney for almost a decade, and I had no aspiration of quitting or doing anything differently. A couple years later, when she started having allergic reactions and her health was impacted just by me smoking, I knew I had to stop.

That was probably the hardest thing I’ve mentally and physically had to do.

In 2007, as a New Year’s Resolution, I made the decision to quit, “Cold Turkey.” I started cutting back, and then in March, I threw the pack away. I was good for about 3 months, and then I relapsed.

I had a cigarette on the 4th of July.

The first time I quit, it was for my wife. She never asked me to quit, but I did it because of her, for her and her health. She helped me realize that I needed to do this for myself, and not for anyone else. This was a decision and a lifestyle change I consciously needed to make.

In March of 2008, I quit again. Cold turkey, again. But this time, I did it.

Why did I tell you that? To lead me to how I gained my weight.

How I gained My Weight:

After I quit smoking, I could actually taste. I tasted food, drinks, snacks… anything meant for consumption, I consumed, because it didn’t taste like ash. I absolutely loved food. I also didn’t have a little stick of cancer making my metabolism run through the metaphoric roof, so my body took a lot longer processing everything that I was eating. That year, I spent fully enjoying food, and the next year, my wife got pregnant with our first child, which led to sympathy weight gain. It just happened, no one really paid too much attention to it, but I went from a 26 waist to a 46 waist.

Breaking Point:

I saw a picture of me and my son and realized I hated the way I looked.

When I was 20, I was a skinny 140 lb guy, and in 2 years had more than doubled my weight to 300 lbs at my heaviest. It felt foreign, and unacceptable. I didn’t like the way I looked, and I knew I had to change.  Then, with perfect timing, during a company Christmas party a couple of co-workers suggested we participate in a “Biggest Loser” type of event, and we would add some monetary value to sweeten the deal.

I am usually a type to think things over, but at that moment, I took it. I saw it as an opportunity to change and I took it.

I put $200 in the pot.

I’m not a competitive person, I just wanted to give myself motivation. So we started week one and I weighed myself in. I started a simple diet with a simple plan of walking every day at lunch with friends who were doing it too.

Slowly people quit off for one reason or another, whether they got hurt or they didn’t want to walk at the pace. In the end there was one other person with me through the whole thing.

I stuck through and beat the competition by losing 20% and weighed in at 215 pounds.

Just like when I quit smoking and relapsed, I did the same with my weight-loss journey. I reached my goal and felt great and started eating again. But, just like smoking, I did it for the wrong reason the first time.

While the weight-loss was for myself, it was for my image, and not for my health. I wanted to look better, and I wanted people to see me differently. Work was stressful, home life was stressful, we just had another baby, we were saving to buy a house.

Within a year, I was right back up to 270.

Along with the weight gain that stress brought on, I also started having anxiety and panic attacks, only I didn’t know that at the time.

During one such anxiety attack, I thought I was actually having a heart attack. I had my wife pick me up and drive me straight to my doctor’s office. He told me no heart attack, but I had a text book definition of anxiety, and I also had high cholesterol.

He started me on Lipitor, and basically I’d have to be on it for the rest of my life.

That’s where it got serious for me.

I had an amazing wife, two beautiful children—a boy and a girl. We have a wonderful life, and I wanted to be around for everything it has to offer. My maternal grandfather had died of a heart attack, and my uncle had just gotten out of the hospital from a heart attack. Dying was literally the last thing on the list of things I want to do in life. I knew Lipitor wasn’t going to fix it, but being medicated really hit a nerve with me. It really changed my way of thinking.

Just like smoking, this was a decision and a lifestyle change I consciously needed to make.

How I Lost It:

Just like before, I started with eating well and walking. I kept a food diary of literally every single thing I ate or drank, all day, every day. I drank more water than I probably have in my entire life, and I also was very loyal to taking my vitamins.

This time I also ended up running! My wife purchased me a second-hand commercial treadmill as a surprise and it really helped to motivate me and get me going. I also joined a fitness group online to help keep me accountable and motivated. I downloaded apps on my iPhone to help me do pushups, sit ups, squats, and pull ups.

Eventually, I participated in a 5k and a 10k… what a great feeling that was! But the best was on May 4, 2014-- I completed the OC Half-Marathon in less than two hours, with my family and friends cheering me on at the finish line, wearing shirts they made for me. 

After Weight: 155 lbs

I have lost a total of 145 lbs in my journey.

My goal is to maintain my weight and gain muscle mass.

Though I have been mostly running, I’m interested in biking and swimming, and hope to complete a triathlon one day!

I am proud to be an involved, active father and positive role model for my children, happy to be a healthier and happier man for my wife, and proud of myself for doing something I wasn’t sure was even possible.

I truly love my life and value everything I have. It is worth living for.





Facing A Family History Of Heart Attacks, Mike Calvert Lost 145 Pounds, via the Huffington Post
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"Big, Bad, Scary" Facebook Messenger

I've had at least 20 friends on my facebook newsfeed show honest concern and fear with the recent changes to the facebook mobile app and being 'forced' to download the facebook messenger app. Most of them have been referring back to one Huffington Post article, "The Insidiousness of Facebook Messenger's Mobile App Terms of Service," written by Sam Fiorella, Partner, Sensei Marketing; Author, Influence Marketing.

First off, let me start by saying-- this guy is obviously aware of what he is saying. He's a marketing professional, using trigger words as scare tactics to get you riled up about the big scary changes facebook made and continues to make.

Now, on to the meat of the issue. Facebook does not and will not control your phone... the app permissions are generic, and fall in line with other popular apps you may already have on your phone. All this means is that the app will control certain features of your phone when you click on them, within the app itself.

 

 

Example 1: In-App Camera
When it says the app will control all functionality of the phone's camera, it means that the camera is being used with the app, not that the camera will turn on and take pictures randomly. A lot of other camera apps share the same permission. Without the permissions, the app itself would error out and fail to work if you clicked on the photo feature.

Example 2: In-App Voice Record
When you choose to use the voice recorder, it means the app will control the functionality of the microphone of your phone, and record whatever it is you're recording, and send the recording as soon as you're done recording, without you needing to do anything else with the phone. It doesn't mean the app will randomly start recording your voice at any given moment. Other voice recording apps share the same permission.

They are very generic permissions, and a lot of facebook-change-haters are hopping on the bandwagon again, to nay-say and scare everyone out of supporting the newest change to facebook. All they do is bold the scary wording and leave out the simpleness of it all. They don't show you just how many apps are worded exactly the same way.

This is one comment that I happen to agree with, and also happens to have a reply from the article's author:

Again, you will see him using words and phrases (once you give permission, automatically, hacker) to give you an uneasy feeling. It's important to know that when you download an app and give it the specific permissions it needs to work, it is given strictly to that app and that app alone. The permissions do not carry over to other apps under the developer, the permissions are not applicable to any other app in your library, and the permissions do not allow a developer to pull your information via the app and implant it anywhere else.

Example 3: Outlook Email
Outlook is an app on your computer. It is an email service application. That app uses the information from other email services (such as your company's email, yahoo, gmail, and hotmail) to be fed through it. That doesn't mean that Excel or PhotoShop will have your email contact information. That doesn't mean I can get your information from Outlook. It just means you can use all your email addresses in one place, out of convenience.

I'm not an author or professor or licensed professional... I'm not an employee of facebook, I'm just using my head. I'm offering a common sense response to someone who is clearly trying to scare the masses of facebook, and sadly, it seems to be working.

Disagreeing with me is fine, but saying mean, rude, or hurtful things is not. If you have questions for me, I'm here. If you have questions about the app, contact facebook!

...did my time machine work?

A music video from the year 2000 is trending on facebook right now. Why? How? What? HUH?

Yeah, I really don't even know.

The music video is "Nobody Wants To Be Lonely" by Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera.

I KNOW! I agree with you, but I still don't know why it's trending!!?!!

Either facebook is trying out something weird, their trend machine is broken, or my time machine is kinda like the TARDIS... it doesn't take me where I want to go, it takes me where I need to go.


New question: Why do I need to go back to the year 2000?

Creativity Takes Courage

I always have ideas in my mind, but I'm usually too nervous or scared to bring them to life.

I used to sew with my grandmother as a kid, but I've never done it on my own. She always helped bring my ideas to fruition, and really helped me see them throgh to completion. We made clothes, hemmed formal dresses, and made lots of costumes.

Since she passed away 6 years ago, I've limited myself and what I think I can do.

Now that I have a family of my own, I decided I needed to just get a sewing machine.

I was so lucky and got the exact machine I wanted (Brother CS6000i) for Mother's Day, from my amazing husband.

I really wanted it, but I didn't know where to start or what to do. I did a lot of research and read every single review I could find. When it arrived, I left it in the box. I didn't even want to open the box without having a good knowledge of what to do with it. I was NOT going to mess this up! I downloaded a digital copy of the instruction manual, and read it like a book before bed every night. I watched youtube how-to videos. I even signed up for sewing classes that will be starting in about a week!

I've had this machine for a month, in the box, waiting for me in the garage. I figured I should meet it before I have to sit in class with it for a couple hours every week.

Tonight, I opened it.

I took it out very carefully. I looked everything over to make sure it was just as I had read. It was like I knew it without ever meeting it before!

I set it up on my covered patio and stared at it for a little while. It really is daunting!! I was so afraid of something going wrong.

First thing's first, I had to make a bobbin.

I pulled out the spool holder, stuck my spool on the spindle, wrapped the thread around, laced it through the bobbin holes, stuck the bobbin on the bobbin spindle, and snapped it into place. The only thing left to do was push the go pedal and hold on tight to the string!

It whirrrrred away, and I watched the thread quickly spiral up and down, filling the bobbin with shiny white thread.

Oh my god, I did it! My grandma would be so proud!!

Next, I had to actually thread the machine. Spiral, down, up, down, and through the needle... wooooo! I did that, too!

My machine does have some fancy auto-thread thing, but I couldn't figure that part out. Oh well, I threaded it just fine.

I popped the bobbin in the table area, and threaded that through with no problem.

I grabbed a strip of plain purple scrap cotton fabric and decided to give it a go...

I did it! I totally cheered myself on in my head.

I folded fabric, I sewed line after line, and I even back stitched them.

I proudly showed my husband the simple lines I did and he showered me with praise. Even my 4 year old was like, "Wow! Good job, Mommy!"

I'm so excited for my sewing class to start, and I can't wait to "Make all the things!!"

It feels good to know I have the courage to be creative. I don't want to limit myself or what I am capable of, and I'm ready to keep moving forward.

My Heart's In Overdrive

There are a lot of things in the world that make me crazy. A lot of things that stress me out. A lot of things that make me feel like if they happen one more time I'm seriously going to explode or freak out or turn into Katie Kaboom or I don't know, just lose it. Whatever 'it' is, it will be lost.

I'm a mom of two kids not yet in school. My house is always a mess. My kitchen is tiny and I rarely get to cook. No matter how much laundry I do, there's always more. My dog sheds so much, I don't know how she still has fur. The only quiet time I get is after 11pm, after starting the day at 6:30am. I almost always have a headache. Something is always happening. Always.

My life is a roller coaster. Sometimes I'm giggling at the adrenaline rush, sometimes I'm screaming at the loops, it twists, it turns, I hold my breath and wait for it to drop again, going a million miles an hour, I just throw my hands up and go with it. It's fun, it's scary, and it's crazy. There are moments that rush you, and moments that take your breath away.

In all of this crazy I have going on constantly, there's one thing that makes my life just stand still for a second. It feels like those pictures where everything is moving except for one thing standing perfectly still... It's the one thing that makes me stop and shhh and wait. It pulls the stress away, it makes me breathe, it makes me calm. Except the thing isn't a "thing," and it isn't an "it." The one is my husband. My best friend. My world.

He is the best thing that has ever happened in my life.

When I met him, he was the 4th person I had been tossed to that day. We were at work, customer service for Arbonne International. It was my first day on the job with actual real-life training, but every person before hadn't been on the right time schedule, so they kept moving me around. I remember seeing him that morning and thinking he was kinda cute, but by the time I got to him, I was annoyed, snarky, and sarcastic. He was still cute, and also shy and sweet. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne, he wore clothes that were too big for him, and he had slicked back hair that sometimes fell in his eyes. He was calm and talked low, and he was so kind to the little old ladies on the phone... I can't tell you how many of them wanted to introduce their granddaughters to him.

I said something once that made him laugh... oh that laugh. That smile. The way he covered his mouth and leaned in to the laugh, holding his stomach... his eyes sparkled. It was the greatest thing I'd ever seen, and it hit me hard. I knew, even if "nothing happened," we'd always be a part of each other's lives.

After a couple days of training, early morning start times, smoke breaks (he would smoke, I just pretended), lunch hours, and overtime, I got my own desk and computer. He was down the aisle one over from me, and I had to look way over my shoulder to see him. I missed him already. I didn't know how he felt, but I'd pretty much fallen for him. I didn't know what to do, so I sent him an email. One line. No subject.

"You know you miss me :)"

I heard his quiet laugh right after I sent it, and I looked over my shoulder to see him looking up at me smiling...

We were married 3 months later, July 8, 2006.

We've struggled together, survived together, had fun together, and have grown up together. We have experienced loss and life. Friends have come and gone. Babies, pets, jobs, cars, and living situations.

For the last 8 years, this man has been making me laugh with his one liners, cry over his sincerity, fight with heart, and love with every ounce of my being. With just one look, one smile, one hug, one kiss, him holding my hand, just being with me... everything that could ever stress me out or make me crazy just melts away.

I sooooooooooo love my husband, you guys. I love him more than Dr. Pepper, Classic Barbies, photography, and coffee ice cream. I love him more than sandwiches and Disneyland and the Wedge. I love him more than red lipstick, classic cars, and tattoos.

I love him...

...k, gonna go cuddle him now.