When People Are Mean

Oh, Lord, y’all. I’ve already shared this part of myself with you. I have a few pet peeves, but the number one tear-my-hair-out, blindly screaming, call your mother and tell her what you did peeve is meanness. When someone is mean to me or someone I love I go from super chill Becca to white trash redneck angry girl whose name is not pronounceable through her gritted teeth. Having a child has taken these psychotic episodes to another level-and because usually the perpetrator is aged in the single digits, I have to control myself during these times more than ever. Have you ever wanted to grab a 6-year-old by the ear and drag him away while his mother watched? No. Uh. Right. Me neither. Continue reading

I’m Not All Rainbows and Puppy Farts

Every time I write a blog, I get comments about how thoughtful I am or how wise I am for my years.  When I post something on Facebook, I get comments like, “Oh, you guys are so much fun!”  “Never a dull moment with you!”  “Beautiful family!”.  The one that makes me most insecure is “Well said” or “Perfectly worded.”  Obviously, these things make me feel GREAT!  However, they also make me look a little closer at myself and wonder if people see me as a little wiser and considerate than I actually am.  Any thing I ever write comes from experiences, and I enjoy looking back on them and finding something meaningful.  The thing is, to get to the point where I can evaluate my own behavior to the world around me, I have to mess up-ALOT-first.  As my mother can confirm, I am definitely a “learn the hard way” kind of person. Continue reading