The Truths I've Come To Know, Love And Accept About Myself

In my reflection lately, and coming after some kudos in therapy and in other relationships, I've realized some fundamental, unapologetic truths about myself. I feel they are share-able.

I've watched someone I considered a good friend crash and burn, manipulate, lie and create this entire life that now has produced a victim not a villain. Rather than call out the haters (which happened to me and didn't make much of a difference other than that I had a distaste for the person who did it to me that has never really rebounded), I just have stopped feeding into it. I can listen when reached out to needing an open ear but I don't ask to hear the drama.

I feel like it's a Little Shop of Horrors kind of moment where if Seymour wouldn't have fed the Audrey II blood to begin with, it wouldn't have started eating people. So if I don't sit there and welcome the complaints, hatred, self-loathing and bitterness, I'm not feeding into the anxious frenzy and making it worse. Or so I tell myself as I'm sorting this all out. 

I've also begun asking myself, quite often, how much of all of this is even my responsibility? Technically I'm responsible for my daughter, my husband, the dog and myself. How much more outside of that should I be taking on?

As an anxious depressive I've realized that my relationships that I carry beside me mirror the current circumstance of my life. So when I was an angry flailing mess, I was around people who wanted to go out and distract me from that. When I was sad and done and feeling cornered, I was around friends who had survived or overcome worse, or at least had experienced similar. When I was ready to take things back, I stuck by people with similar goals who wanted progress and introspection.

There are parts of me that are grieving some of the friend losses. They have just kind of faded into the background as though, if I haven't put in the effort the relationship is no longer there and I have my moments of "missing them." I say missing them because isn't there an age old adage of, "How can I miss you if you never leave?" I miss the ideas of what I thought we had going.

Mostly I've taken to pinning some things on my Pinterest boards and just finding other ways of coping and distraction that are less destructive than prior versions of myself. I've been watching new series, reading a lot and getting plenty of rest. I've also been investing in a better relationship with my family, which seems to be working out pretty well.

I've learned that if it's too stressful, I just don't need it. There are some parts of life that are going to be stressful, no matter what, and that's just par for the course. However, there are some parts of life that add stress because of my reactions to them. No more. I now am strong in boundaries. Some of them will seem stupid, but they are mine.

My first example would be volunteering; I used to love to volunteer, but somewhere along the line it got stressful, filled me with anxiety and made me not able to serve well because I was miserable. I carried that weight, hid it well and powered through saying it was just a funk. It turns out I was denying that I cannot willingly walk into chaos and properly serve. It doesn't work for me. Taking that step back was huge for me, because I'm very into the "obligatory" and usually end up "shoulding" all over myself. Not anymore. 

I also refuse to chase after people and be the train conductor of all the relationships. The friends I have kept within my tribe are the ones that may get busy with life, parenthood, family, spouses, work and all the things, but still take the time to say, "Hey I miss you, wanna hang out?" To me, this is everything. The distinction is clear now. This has been a struggle for me, but now I see the line much more easily.

My job is fantastic and I'm finally in a place of STEADY growth and healing. I have my panic moments of "Don't mess it up!" But, mostly I just want to keep on keeping on. The peace that has finally come, and that we have been able to maintain and communicate around is not something I'm remotely willing to sacrifice and I love being able to type that.

Make no mistake, I am not miss "happy-go-lucky everything is fine now." That girl has long since resigned in shame. I am, "Hey, we are communicating and moving steadily in shared directions, with shared goals, and bossing up mentally, financially, and as a family and let's just keep the momentum and take everything as it comes." It's not a bad place to be comparatively. 

As per my post yesterday, I definitely have a rough few weeks ahead, but last night I did what I could and slayed my extra chores. I got dinner on the table and bathed the kid. We talked about random things and read some chapter book and had mommy-daughter cuddles. I was asleep by 9 and it was heaven. We can do this. I can do this!

Even an elder millennial is all about "my" truth or "our truths," right? Well my truths are this: I'm flawed and I've made crap choices, especially in the heat of my life in disarray and denial of what I really had in front of me. I'm stubborn, an introverted extrovert, I struggle with anxiety, depression, exhaustion and needing extra forms of breaks. I get overwhelmed and defensive easily and literally think my child is the best kid in this universe. I'm also a great friend, genuinely well-intentioned, and tenacious to the point of obnoxious in some cases when it comes to making sure people feel seen, heard and relevant.

I'm still learning and taking in everything that comes with all these things. I'm still progressing and very much in the midst of the process, but I like that I'm awake, aware and always Alison about it all. And if you're not such a fan, I get it, but I have no bad feelings about you growing your own way either, in fact I'm totally supportive of that even if it means I can't be there to cheer you on!

The Birthday Blog...34 Is HERE!

So I'm 34 today and this entry will be short and sweet. I took the day off. I slept in until 7, took my kid to school, grabbed a late morning workout, came home and showered and am about to run errands and then treat myself.

The birthday love on Facebook is awesome, and I'm so grateful for all the texts. Today I just wanted everything to be chill, and so far, so good. 

My hubby did pretty well, he made my favorite dinner from his restaurant, he got me a small cake, and a new book by one of my favorite authors. I was able to relax and enjoy last night and my daughter "threw me a party."

I'm grateful for some much needed chill time, and even more grateful for cake. Today I'm opening the forum for comments about future post suggestions or what you'd like me to write about. So comment away while I enjoy the day! Thank you all for reading and I'l be back to normal-ish length posts tomorrow.   

I Suck At Faith

I was raised in a Presbyterian church as a normal, average, "PK" or "Preacher's Kid." Sunday School, Potlucks, BBQ, Sermons, Funerals, Weddings, Baptisms, the whole nine yards of protestant life. I was the kid who played in church and loved to be there. I wanted to take all my friends because church was the best.

In 3rd grade they put me in Catholic School because all my older cousins and my mom had gone to the same Catholic Schools. Religion was my best subject but I learned fast and the hard way that not all religion was the same. I got bullied a lot for not being Catholic. It's not something you can hide because if you don't go through 1st communion you can't have any communion at all in the Catholic church. So while everyone else went up to the front, I stayed seated, not able to participate. 

I can remember two times, both of which I've written about before, where all of my concepts of faith were completely shattered, and both happened before I was 16. To this day, neither of those situations was fully remedied. It wasn't until I was 17, had moved from PA to Florida, then from Florida to Oregon, where I finally just retired from the whole church thing. Granted, my mom and I never even looked at a church when I spent my junior year in Florida; the closest thing to a religious ritual for us was trips to the malls.

My dad was still preaching when I moved to Oregon, but his church was a good 45 minutes away. In the progressive, hippie and free thinking city of Eugene, it was easier to find Pot-dealers than church-goers, and no one who went to church spoke about it. I never had a single person invite me to a church in my 8 years in Oregon and it wasn't because I was a known preacher's kid. It just wasn't a part of my college life.

I don't know how to better describe my current situation as just the fact that I suck at faith. I know a few people who have this unyielding and compelling faith whom I admire so very much, but after a quick conversation with a mom friend who has shared some trauma with me, we kind of acknowledged that while we admire those with it, it's not so easy for everyone.

I read the bible a lot in my youth. I had many discussions with my dad and loved to study all forms of religion so I understand it all, it's just hard for me to jump in head first. For me it comes down to owning my trauma. Until recently, and I mean within the last 6 months recently, I didn't know that the many things I'd experienced in my life were allowed to be called "trauma." I thought they were just bad things that I had to learn from, so dealing with that is a lot as it is.

I've heard a lot about the millennial generation professing the one true truth as "my truth," which I think has some merit in that we are in a time of continued identity evolution. There is a lot more to consider now, than ever before. But also, so much involved with religion has become unflattering and volatile. It's a double edged sword.

I have a "home church," a church I love and identify with for the first time since I was 13. However, this came after visiting two churches that just did nothing for me at all and were part of ritual or expectation rather than "filling my cup." Where I currently attend has brought me amazing friendships and great opportunities to serve the community, which are incredibly important, but I still maintain, in general, I suck at faith.

I think when you spend your life in close proximity to addiction, alcoholism and chaos, it's more difficult to find your way, as rather you are always focused on what's in your way. I wish I had the kind of support to be free in affirming faithful ideas and constructs but I just don't, and that's just par for the course right now.

Talking to anyone about close ties and experiences with family members and loved ones in the throws substance abuse is very difficult, let alone dealing with it privately. Unfortunately, like it or not, church gossip is as easy to get to as a copy of the bible when you walk into worship, so protecting any sense of privacy can feel alienating and a kind of lost cause. 

Last week during horseback riding lessons we spoke to this young girl who had been riding since she was 7. My husband mentioned church and this 14 year old girl said, "You should come to my church! We'd love to have you!" She spoke with pride about what it was like and that even if we had a church we liked, she'd like for all of us to come to hers. I just watched her talking to us about this and was in awe of her. This girl had no fear or reservations about talking about where she held her faith. She was just as happy to talk about her church as she was about her iPhone, her sprained wrist and her horses. 

I think I was like her until my first experiences with family addiction. I think I was able to stand taller before the engulfing force that my early trauma took from me. And I'm sorry to say that dealing with the effects of the substance abuse of others is still very much a part of my daily life, and what keeps me from sucking less at faith.

Without outing everything about my personal life I can report that, although I don't struggle with drug or alcohol abuse, save from being a mother and 2 glasses of wine giving me a headache if I don't have enough water, or beer giving me stomach cramps, it's something that I have never lived without. It is a constant. For many people reading you'll reach out and say this is when I need my church and to find my faith most, but for those of you who have known me the longest, you'll know that's just not an easy thing for me.

I'm not so sure faith is "easy" for anyone, but for me it's just a work in progress like everything else in my life and my best compliment to myself about it is, at least I'm honest about it. I refuse to hide the struggle anymore because it adds too much extra stress. I suck at faith but I'm willing to work on it. For those of you who have that strong and unwavering faith, you're always allowed to share with me because I am well aware that learning about it incredibly important. 

In the meantime, I am healing and working hard on finding ways back to myself. I'm taking the Sundays I need to for a day of rest and late breakfasts, and I'm done feelingly badly about it. I'm taking every lesson I can from every sermon I attend and I'm trying to try to suck much less in the hopes that one day it will truly rub off and become easier for me. Until then, I just keep learning and doing what I can to keep on keeping on; that may actually be the religion in Eugene. "Keep on keeping on." 

Less Is More, I Think I Get It Now

Staying on the topic of continuous lessons, growth and never-ending cliches, let's talk about that whole, "Less is more," thing.

Less is more can easily be applied to certain applications of make-up, in some cases, food and always, always, always, GLITTER.

Lately I have applied the "less is more," theory to text message conversations and tech interactions. Phones are everything these days. I have those horrible millennial moments where I get snotty as if life before smart phones was caveman-esque. When people ask for directions I scoff, "Just Google it!" When my husband complained about his data on his phone, "Gosh, just use WIFI! As if!" Yeah, I have those moments.

Some of these social media things can push you over the edge. Whomever invented the ability and application to see when a message was READ, needs to be sat down for a talk about how this is not a good thing. Let me tell you, the ellipsis bubble awaiting a response is the stuff of pure evil. I loved living in a fantasy world where when you don't get a response to a text message, it was because the recipient never saw it. How insulting is it to think they saw it and then chose not to respond?  I always want to believe they're busy or distracted as the lesser of evils. 

For me, less communication has been more productive this week. Checking in on people is great. Making and confirming plans with friends is wonderful. Asking your husband to grab groceries because you are out of things is essential. But this week I took a step back from my usual anxiety-driven texting mania and I must say, it feels frigging awesome. 

So I think less is more for social media and technologically based communications can definitely come in handy. Have you ever seen that people now have to "take breaks" from social media? I've done it often and people get into a weird panic as if I've been abducted. Which isn't to say that social media hasn't been incredibly helpful in cases attached to things like that - let me make that clear, I was just being sassy.

It's as if your activity online is some kind of sign of life anymore. So you may be actually dead if you don't update your Facebook status often enough, is that what it is? It's kind of unnerving when you think about it.

With this expansion of information and communication, I personally feel we've actually weakened our abilities to properly communicate, not enhanced them. Think of this, back in the day a phone conversation could last for hours talking about nothing or everything and plans were made, and set and followed through. Now, because we can reach anyone, anywhere, in seconds, we can "blow off" plans in a moment's notice. It's not always nice, or fair or convenient. It's not always our fault, LIFE HAPPENS, but I think instant access to communicate has let us become naturally more social anxious, and flaky, or at least it has in my personal realm. Somehow because you can get a-hold of everyone now, you can change anything and everything last minute, it's a double-edged sword.

Some people can do it all and prove that these technologies and communications are way more pro than con. However, some people, like "Anxious Alison" over here, get really wobbly in the new age world. For directions, I could not live without GPS. For music, Spotify is life. For pictures and videos, it's so perfect to have a little device right there. For social interaction, though, I'm a hot mess.

Some days I have handle on all of it and some days I'm on Pinterest and Instagram and bouncing to and from, waiting for this, waiting for that, then I look at Facebook and 30 minutes have gone by! Here comes that balance idea again, and I'm finding my way through it.

I think my husband will forever coin me as "a texter," and don't get me wrong, I will respond within 5 minutes most times. But I do wonder how much things would change if we let go of the devices a bit. Or at least if I did.

I've been working on that diligently this week and I'm proud of my progress. This is not to say you cannot get in touch with me and there are certain people I'd love to catch up with, even via text just so I can feel more on top of friendships stuff, but I'm trying to find my comfort zone. I for one, definitely rely too much on texting and social media as some kind of barometer for life things. It looks absurd when I type that but it is true, regardless. 

So here I am, a work in progress, progress not perfection, and less is definitely more! I'm in all the cliches and just finding my way through this thing called life. I hope that this helps someone feel less technologically anxious and more excited about finding their balance. For me it felt so weird at first, and much easier said than done, but by the end of this week I'm feeling more calm and rested, so I'm hoping for the same for all my readers. Happy Friday!

Hipster Coffee Spot Lunch Blogging

I changed it up this week. I've actually made many changes recently. Many. At work my days have been filled with steady work. Most often it is routinely more quiet. So I've got less time to blog from the company desktop and by the time I get home I'm usually just scrambling to get it together for things in general, let alone to take time to write. But I challenged myself to every day this year, here I am, almost 2 months strong!

Although I miss my lunch walks, the coffee and sometimes muffin lunch is a wonderful pick me up. It's cliche and oh so very Oregonian of me to find all inspiration in a "coffee house" scene but here I am, typing among the customers.

Here's what I know. This week has resulted in some serious maturity strides for me. I'm more and more accepting of all of my mistakes, flaws, anxieties and difficulties and am feeling lighter. Maybe not when it comes to the fitness area, but there will always be time to lose weight. 

This week I was more honest with myself and it allowed me to be honest with the people I care most about. Some of this came in the form of deep, rough conversations. Some came from not bothering people even though I wanted to and some came from stopping anxiety in its tracks, or not feeding into conversations and activities that just made me feel not great.

I prayed more this week; mostly for the happiness and success of others. I put out all the positive vibes and sifted through any negativity to better have a grip on reality. Life is tough. It's annoying. There are hurdles and frustrations. Plans change. People can be abrasive, rude, unthinking and selfish. So what? I've been not so great too.

I'm embracing all the cliches. I do live "one day at a time." Bad moment? "This too shall pass."

A few weeks ago I was just wobbly, which I decided was  mostly stable but ready to fall. And then I cultivated some wonderful, wonderful moments and just took on the "power of now."

I've checked in with the people I lost track of. I've "let go" a little of the people I was imposing on a bit too much. I've cried a lot. I've accepted some new challenges, physical, and mental. I've been kinder to myself.

This isn't some "born again," "new year, new me" entry. But yesterday my growth and stability was celebrated. And I kind of want to bask in that a little bit.

I've been painted as controlling for most of my life. I've been drowned in disappointments and collapsed by changed plans and expectations. Bogged down by "the rules," I've had to let a lot of that go and it's been a positive experience. 

I'm less wobbly and more...floaty? Does that work? I'm sustaining. And that's more than I can say or have said about myself in a long time. I'm not even sure I'll last one more day or one more week feeling this...sustainable thing but I just want to try and enjoy it.

This week has been busy. Next week is more of the same. I've had a rough 2 and 3/4 years...if you want the real truth, I've had a rough 6 and a half years, which I'm just starting to talk about and come to terms with. So much of that is the beauty of life. We continue. We prevail.

I've been in my own way and caused myself extra hurt and turmoil and I don't want to do that anymore. I've made not great choices and countless mistakes. I want to make better choices and lower that mistake count. I don't want everything to hinge on other people, but sometimes we need to hold others accountable. I'm seeking the balances. I want to be a good friend as much as I want to be treated well by my friends.

I really just want everyone I care about, to be happy. Not Hallmark Card, Disney "happy," just...sustainable and copacetic I guess. Well, if they want to be Hallmark Card Disney happy, I'll support them but may be slightly skeptical. Will there be random bursts of song? 

I won't pretend that with this outlook and methodology there aren't casualties. I'm not as text-friendly lately. Social media stuff has taken a huge hit. I'm much more Instagram-friendly than Facebook anymore. I'm more private and selective when it comes to who knows what about certain aspects of my life. And I'm much less tolerable of mistreatment. If I don't like how you're treating me, I'll tell you, like it or not. I'm not always mean about it, but I'm working on being more assertive.

So here I am, another blog down, with a much better life attitude than I've had in awhile. I'm feeling lighter, sustainable and in tune with myself. Old habits die hard. I won't pretend slip-ups and bad days won't happen, but I can tell you I'm better equipped to let them affect me less. I hope someone reads this and feels better about their mental struggle. Feel free to reach out to me at any time! Happy Friday Eve you all!

Bills, Budget, Money, Oh My!

My mom asked if I was technically a millennial last night. I told her technically I may be an #eldermillennial. When I was young, even when things were at their worst, I never worried that we wouldn't have a roof over our heads or food on the table. I never saw my dad use credit cards, really and when divorce things happened in any part of my family I don't ever recall any complaints about money involved. Perhaps it was all on the down low.

Money stuff is hard. Let's just be real and admit that paying bills sucks as does adulting but financial stuff is hard. During one of my darkest years recently I had seen old friends doing well. They had new houses, new cars, golf carts, and great dates all posted on social media. I felt like I was always struggling and kept getting shut out of having even a chance to have those things. I was once confronted by someone as being "A hater" because I just said, "They have everything including what must be some serious credit card debt, which I could never do."

It was funny to me how that made me a "hater." I learned the hard way, really fast, and then even worse and slower like when you're afraid to remove a band-aid, just how bad all things related to credit and debt could be. And worse, I had nothing to show for it. I wasn't a shop-aholic. I had no new vehicles, we couldn't get a house loan, nothing. No memorable vacations or anything. It was all just...something for another post, or maybe my book.

Back to the point of the debt. My dad taught me how to use credit cards, and I know not everyone is so lucky. For me, real debt, more than something that can be easily caught up on in a month or two, makes me stressed, anxious and very defeated. It's often a point of contention.

I was raised not to discuss money things with other people and from that has come a lot of misunderstanding a grief. I should have asked for help in terms of advice and how to do things the most efficient ways. I've had to change my methods over and over. And this is what I know:

You'll always have "some" debt. It's inevitable. It's all about the debt to net worth ratio. My uncle once said this to me in jest, but when we were buying the house, it all became clear, if your debt outweighs what you can predictably bring in...you're doomed. I do everything in my power to "live within my means."

I'm a saver. And my husband is a spender. Sigh...imagine the controversy there. It has not been easy. I'm that person that the day the bill arrives: PAID, POOF, MONEY GONE! I want things taken care of immediately. No past due balances or skipped payments for me. I believe that after the bills are paid you can go out to play. You don't go out to eat when you have an electric bill you'll barely pay in full.

After adulting and doing all the math over and over and over. And obsessing over and over and over about everything, I'm pretty close to keeping us at break even and this is a big deal in my world. I do get upset from time to time when I have to scale back. I recently had to get rid of my gym membership which stinks, but I do enjoy having dental insurance. 

Financial struggles and life struggles are hard to share and I think I still keep stuff pretty private. A lot of my association with failure is aligned with money. Like clearly you're successful if you have all the things right? Not really.

I spent the last year just so done with all these unfair ideologies I pushed on myself for so long. I started to really focus on how to handle the disappointments and hurdles and just ask myself "What can be possibly done now? What can you hope to accomplish in the future?" I've really had to retool so much of my thinking and I feel better for it honestly.

I will tell you one funny misstep though: I had reached out for a financial mentor and it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever encountered. After we moved our money into retirement funds and savings accounts and started really breaking down what we earn and where it goes, I just thought "We have to stop living paycheck to paycheck."

When I called and started breaking things down, not only did I feel stupid because I only had ballpark numbers of certain things, but I was made to feel pretty stupid too. Little things like opening our retirement accounts and "you couldn't have put that much in because XYZ..." Well we did, however it happened with our financial investor they did it. The next advice was to close all but one credit card, and we only had two. And the 2nd one I'd had since I was 18. Same account, which means I have a great history with them and I just thought..."that seems like really bad advice!"

The last advice, which was good but too much for me was "Write down exactly what you spend on every single thing and keep every receipt." This is where I get ridiculous. I have a serious hatred for receipts. I wish EVERYTHING was an e-receipt and we stopped using that horrible paper with that ink. I can be wasteful about stupid stuff but I HATE RECEIPTS. And I never keep them unless I MIGHT need to return something. Also, every purchase? Ever heard of internet banking? Aside from what exact groceries you buy, it's all there, on a credit OR debit card.

After the conversation I just felt kind of annoyed. I had taken control in financial chaos and busted my butt to get us on track and now I was to do more? And here's the thing, the steps we took were just so huge, that I wanted to enjoy the success, not add on more work. Also? We had just enough to get by. This didn't account for, large car repairs, raises in insurance, a raise in pay or other things. There's so damned much unknown. You literally cannot plan for everything. So why make myself crazy?

And that's when I gave myself a nice pep talk: "Look, you can do what you can and remind yourself that your family will never let you go without anything necessary in life if things get really bad, and stay tenacious, and not sweat the small stuff, or you can try all these things, sacrifice some more sanity and have it probably not work for you in a functional way. What will make you happy?"

I figured out my own way. That's what made me happy. Finding my own way to integrate the advice, and everything else to keep us on the correct path. I finally saw everything from all angles and I just wanted to keep up the good fight without messing with the delicate balance of what I'd begun.

I'm more grateful now I feel. I'm more, in tune with where I want to be and where I am. I still throw a tantrum if I have to be responsible and miss a concert or can't go buy new bras just because there's a sale. But I've seen a lot of great concerts. And there's always another sale and my current bras still function. There are also so many less fortunate and I really would like to be able to give back to them in a real way. I think that's a much better goal than new furniture.

These are all growing pains and I'm always open to ideas and advice. And most people have financial issues in some way or another. The American way feels like we're spending what we haven't made but I'd like to be the cheese that stands alone on that one. Much like everything else in life it's one day at a time. And it's a constant check and balance on we can do extra and what we can't.

But the bills, budgeting and money...sigh, oh my. They will always be a part of life. Find what works for you! 

4th Grade 4-Eyed Dreams Can Come True

I'm getting more and more insight into what a little girl's world really is through my daughter, but I have a few memories of my own. I don't remember being too into clothes. I was definitely an extremely late bloomer and I just loved to wear matching things. In fact, mis-match day at school was always a challenge for me.

My mom dressed me in Laura Ashley, Osh Kosh and as many brand names as possible but I don't remember much beyond fluffy dresses and Easter hats. I didn't get manicures or have lots of accessories. One thing I really wanted when I was in 4th grade though, was glasses.

Both of my parents had glasses. One of them was near-sighted, one of them was far-sighted, and I was like "Okay, so when do I get my glasses?" I'd always tested fine for vision but when I complained of frequent headaches they thought maybe it was time.

So off to the eye doctor we go and I have perfect vision. I was super bummed. I felt really ordinary with the exception of the bright red hair. There was another redhead in my class too and she had glasses. My best friend had glasses. I was so lame without them, right? Oh and the headaches were from my mom letting me drink iced tea every morning...not the best choice. 

So I went on to grow for years and years with no glasses and normal vision. I've never really had any problems so I just went on to function with regular eye balls and exist in the glasses-less sector of society.

It's taken a long time for the Chriss fam to get it together, but we now have normal luxuries like insurance and dental and vision coverage. My husband has glasses and he's used all of the things around it, but I realized I had never used my benefits. Now that I have a job where I'm able to have doctor's appointments and run of the mill life happenings without losing hours or suffering in some other way, I decided to adult up and get my eye exam.

So the dilation thing is maddening. Everything was so blurry and disorienting. The eye puff thing had me exactly like Rachel on Friends, you know which one I'm talking about. And then I found out I needed a light prescription. I was ridiculously excited. 

The Eye doctor said one time a girl desperately wanted glasses and she had to say no and she left in tears. She had wished someone would have told her so she could have phrased it differently for the little one, but she was happy I wasn't upset about them.

So then I went frame shopping. The next day because being all blurry I was not trying to shop for something to live on my face for the rest of my days. My budget was small because I'm "thrifty" (not cheap lol). So I found some frames I really really loved and now just had to be patient for two weeks. No problem.

When my glasses came I ran over there. Finally! I put them on. New year, new me! Yeah! I loved them but oh my did they mess with my depth perception...badly. The sidewalk looked like it was up to my stomach. It was so weird.

My husband assured me there was an adjustment period. Then the first weekend they moved around on my face a lot. I couldn't tell if I was being high maintenance or if they needed an adjustment. My husband said while glasses move, they shouldn't quite that much. I still wore them because this was my 4th grade dream, coming true and right before my 34th birthday! 

So, I finally went to get the adjustment and they are worlds better. When my daughter first saw them somehow she was taken aback like, "Do you have to wear those to bed?" Even though my husband has worn glasses, oh, always. Mostly I got the response "cute," or worse...the people I wanted to notice didn't and the people I would have never expected to notice now wanted to talk about my new accessory.

I'm still getting used to them over-all. This week they are making me sleepy. But there is this huge part of me that feels kind of awesome that my 4th grade dream, no matter how ridiculous it may seem, actually has come true. I think we all have these kid moments of wanting things to make us stand out but also fit in and as we get older we care less and less, but it's kind of fun to know now, not only am I able to see better, but I kind of knocked a weird kid goal off of my list.

My daughter has cool goals like going to Paris and getting a Golden Retriever puppy, which I fully support. She loves to mis-match clothes and hates to match actually. I refer to her as a tiny tourist as you'll often see her in prints and prints or stripes and polka dots. She just found jewelry and is hesitant to fit into the lost tooth trend out of fear it will hurt. While she's fiercely independent she has conformed into the Shopkins obsession, My Little Ponies, the world of Legos and Roblox. I love watching her phases though.

When she has goals like glasses and braces though, I fully intend to let her know that she might have to wait until she's grown, but usually these things are totally achievable. I plan on explaining this while on a plane full of Golden Retrievers on our way to Paris of course. 

What You Should Know About Me As a Mom

First, I want to thank ALL of you that read my blog yesterday. I so appreciate each and every one of you!
Second, I wanted to give you all a view as to my whole entrance into motherhood so to speak.

Now this is just MY journey and what worked for me versus didn't work for me isn't for everyone. So I mean none of the following as a trigger for any woman, especially those trying to conceive and feeling frustrated. This is just my path and I want to support you continuing yours, whatever that looks like for you. So here we go.

In 29 days, exactly 6 years ago I gave birth to my beautiful, redheaded ball of sass, Luna Raylee. Luna came out one day after her due date and was born on 1-31-13 at 11:31AM. Not joking. I pointed this out in my exhausted stupor right after I pushed her out of me.

It took my husband and I about 6 months to conceive in 2012 after about 4 years of my being off of birth control and neither of us actively getting in nature's way. After 4 months of nothing happening, not even a late period, I did change my diet a bit and stopped drinking any wine or other alcohol and that was the exact month we conceived.

My first indicator of pregnancy, which I blissfully ignored, was going to Spin class at the Y and it being unnaturally difficult and making me so tired as if I hadn't been religiously going the past 2 years. But then I missed my period and we waited 5 days to make sure no sign of it and there it was, a positive on the pee stick! One trip to the clinic later and we were a go.

True to form for an elder millennial, (Major points to Iliza Shlesinger for coining this phrase by the way) we had no insurance so we went to the local Health Department and quickly made friends with the Nurses who told us "It's not often we get this as happy news, so congratulations! Let's set up your other appointments!"

I had a great pregnancy after 3 months of not wanting to eat, puking and having weird food aversions like marinara, ketchup, hot dogs and anything "too smelly." My husband loved to feed me after in my first trimester it once took him 2 hours to get me to decide on something to eat, he made my requested Chicken Quesadilla and I took one bite and almost lost it because it was, "Too chickeny."

I gained too much weight but wasn't too uncomfortable, although I did have had magical cankles. I also had heartburn consistently which I had never had in my life before. So she came out after about 14 hours of slow labor that I had no idea was happening. I ate spicy food because I was so terrified of being induced (My hippie college years made me decide to go natural birth, even in a hospital setting) so I was doing all the things to encourage her naturally and when I was up once an hour on January 30th into the wee hours of the 31st, I thought nothing of it. It was the curry not the baby.

I continued to think nothing of it until I woke up with the worst back pain ever. My dad was staying with us and I remember once he arrived I caved and started drinking a little caffeine again. So my dad made me a delicious cup of coffee and I took one glorious sip before I just did not feel good. My back was getting worse so I decided to take a nice, hot shower. 

I was letting my husband sleep in after a late shift and after I got out of the shower, which is where my water must have broken, unbeknownst to me by the way, I was so uncomfortable I made him get up. When I got him up, somehow I demanded pancakes and then started yelling about being not okay and very much in pain. So this was my active labor.

The mean contractions started by about 7:30AM January 31st, 2013. I had made plans with all of my friends from work, as I had been scheduled to work that day as my last day, to have Taco Thursday at my husband's restaurant. I started texting everyone that I wasn't feeling good and the bets on baby time started immediately. "No, I'm not in labor," I kept saying. After a contraction fit where I threw my phone the next text they received around lunch was..."Luna is here."

We sent my dad on an errand and my best description for what happened next was my writhing around like some kind of farm animal trying to get comfortable in hay. My poor pug was just all over feverishly trying to get his mom to stay calm. Finally my husband got a heating pad on my back and did one of those weird things they teach you in birthing class that you think is stupid with pressure points, but then actually works. At one point my 20lb pug crawled on my back on top of the heating pad and laid down and was then crowned the best dog to have ever lived. He somehow gave the perfect pressure to calm the pain. I had 10 minutes of calm bliss before I tried to move to the bedroom for more comfort and things were getting worse.

When my dad returned at about 9:45AM with some things I wanted for my "Go bag," he heard two of my contractions from the bedroom and grabbed my husband and said "Uh, those were kind of close together, we need to get in the car." 

With help down the stairs and into the back seat of our gold Pontiac Grand AM we named, "Goldmember," which I hated and my husband loved, I fell trying to get into the back seat and got my belly wedged between the front seat and the back seat. Of course my husband laughed while helping. The weather was a cool 60 for winter in Florida, and we took off with windows down, just my dad, my husband and I. We waited to call my mother because her and I had a weird relationship and she told me I could never have a baby naturally so not exactly a calming, supportive force. She remembers getting the call with my screaming in the background. 

We sped through all of Tampa to get me to the women's center. We left by about 10AM, somehow got to the hospital by 10:40AM and could see the ER driveway when we were stopped at the hospital crosswalk by an old man with a walker literally taking his small, sweet steps to get across. My husband muttered, "You've got to be kidding me!"

When we got there I needed a wheelchair because I felt some serious pelvic pressure in the car. I was in so much pain and no one was even paying me any attention in the lobby. I screamed so loudly and a nurse said "Okay, hun, is this your first baby?" I muttered yes with an annoyed look. "Okay honey, calm down, we'll get to ya." When they got me in the room and in the gown my husband had my pants and top ready to put in the plastic hospital bag and looked at them saying..."Uh, is that normal?" Apparently everything that happens right before delivery happened on the car ride and in my pants. I was too busy having a baby to notice. I heard a nurse say, "Okay, we're going straight into delivery!" 

So they get me into delivery and I'm screaming and in pain and finally my midwife says "You're pushing out when you scream, push down." This was the most constructive thing said to me in this crazy time. Three huge pushes later, no drugs and she was out, with red hair to boot. And the delivery wasn't bad at all. I remember crying to my half sister that it wasn't that bad and what happened if we ever had another one. She said "Honey usually it doesn't tend to get worse." It was everything after that was much more difficult for me.

Just before I left my job at Massage Envy I had met a nurse who worked in the NICU and pediatric ward at Tampa General. I told her I was delivering there and she said, "Well I wish you luck and I hope I don't see you there as I'm in the section with the sick little ones and I want you to have a happy, healthy baby!" This comes into play later in the story so stay tuned.

I had considered a home birth, but being an apartment renter just decided my place could never be clean enough for that. And I read the books and did the birthing classes, but in my opinion, nothing can actually prepare you for parenthood. 

Breastfeeding was SO HARD for me. You see all these women everywhere just looking like a goddess with a baby on their breast and I just felt like some cow barely hanging on. Now, I've introduced you to Luna's world entrance and tomorrow we'll talk more breastfeeding. I'd love to hear your birth and conception stories also and encourage you to email me to share anything. Again, this was just my journey with Luna but I hope that you laughed and for tomorrow, we'll have more tales of parenting. And for those of you reading this on a day where you're feeling like a "less-than-awesome" mom, you're doing so much better than you think! 

Challenge 10: My First Celebrity Crush

So we are ten challenges in and I will admit I'm having a day that was set on me throwing me off from wanting to do this but, I don't want to miss out, except when I'm being lazy on weekends.

As I've recently discovered I am an "Elder Millennial." So I came about during a time where the 80's were in full swing but 70's stuff was still cool. My first celebrity crush was none other than DAVY JONES of The Monkees. I watched that show in syndication relentlessly, knew all the words to all the songs, and loved Davy Jones almost as much as Marcia Brady loved him. Ironically, I did not really watch The Brady Bunch, but I loved the Monkees. My dad had most of their albums on vinyl, which I have since procured and still listen to today.

Other celebrity crushes over the years included Zac Hanson (of course), various members of the Backstreet Boys but not *NSYNC. It is my humble opinion that Justin Timberlake's hotness was not fully formed until he went solo. As a 90's kid and Home Improvement fan, I loved Johnathan Taylor Thomas and from Full House, DJ's boyfriend Steve was dreamy as well.

I missed most of the teen heart-throb romance shows but I will say that even though it has been revealed that "Zack Morris is Trash," boy did I love Mark-Paul Gosselaar and wish that I was Kelly Kapowski. Slater was not for me and Screech? Really?

I would say I wasn't as obsessed with the mainstream boys the older I got. I had a thing for Topher Grace, not Ashton Kutcher. I had no attraction to anyone on Dawson's Creek. I was very, very in love with David Duchovny AKA Fox Mulder and the fact that Scully was a red-head just meant someday we would be together. I am actually still optimistic about that one.

But, I digress, my first, real celebrity crush was Davy Jones. I missed my only opportunity to see him live with the Monkees before he passed away about 9 years ago. I will forever regret not going into debt and calling out of work to see him on stage but clearly, in more ways than one, we were not meant to be together. I am still open to all my other crushes though, so feel free to pass along my information.