I think romantic comedies are based entirely on people’s fantasies of how love and marriage are supposed to look. Boy and girl meet, fall in love, have some drama, resolve said drama, and live happily ever after. While I enjoy a good fairy tale, the repetitiveness of this exact story is incredibly dangerous to modern marriage. It doesn’t show Cindy and Charming then learn to live together, figure out how much time they want to dedicate to each other, maneuver life with certain expectations, and recognize unique undertones of each others’ words. Cinderella might have babies one day. She’s going to instantly form an entirely uncharted and incredibly important relationship with a new little person and she might have some confusion as to her new dual role as princess wife and mother. Or what if Cindy doesn’t want kids? And Charming does? Did they discuss this before they decided to get married? Probably not. They’ve barely even met. Cinderella doesn’t even have anyone to confide in but a mouse and a jolly old witch. The sequel might be a rough one. Continue reading
I am a messy person. I’ve been messy since I was born. I’m not kidding. I popped out and grabbed twelve swaddling blankets and threw them about the room. Then, I politely asked the nurse for another one because I had lost the others. Coming home from school, I would violently kick of my shoes. They landed where they landed. The only time I cleaned my room was when my mom would say I couldn’t (insert fun activity here) until I cleaned my room. I had chores. I did chores. I had to help clean the house. I don’t think I can blame this on my parents. I’m scatterbrained inside and out. The best part about this issue is that clutter makes me crazy. It actually makes me feel icky. I am so much sharper and happily in an organized space, but it is in my very being to be messy. Continue reading
So, I haven’t mentioned this amazing visit yet because a huge part of it was the fact that my husband was gone for several weeks hiking the Appalachian Trail. That is a story in itself, but it is important to mention as this blog is about nurturing friendships and providing self care-specifically when your world has been temporarily flipped upside down. I was excited for Rick to live out a dream of his and having young children with easy schedules made this one of the few appropriate times of our life to go on such a wild adventure. So…just to set the scene…Sarah, my BFF since childhood knew I was going to have some long weekends without my husband and planned a rescue visit for a long weekend in June.
I’ve blogged about Sarah before here. We’ve known each other since we were four. She has since moved to Durham where she works as a pediatric acute care nurse practitioner because she is BOSS. To me, though, she’s just Sawah. And I’m just Rebecca. And we’re just the same kids we’ve always been, but with grown up jobs and homes and husbands and all that weird stuff. Here is a picture of us from childhood to remind you that we weren’t always the perfect goddesses we are today: Continue reading
I look back at high school and laugh at myself. Things that were such a big deal then are hard to even fully remember now. Break ups were the worst. School was hard. Getting up at 7:30am was such a nightmare. Juggling an after school/weekend job with school and band practice seemed overwhelming. I remember a particular break up where I laid on the bathroom floor crying while my dad consoled me. (Thanks Dad) It was the worst day of my entire life. Failing a test? OMG! My life was over. When I think of what I considered a serious situation back then, I roll my eyes. Continue reading
Every single pregnancy website I read presents me with sugar coated facts and photos of perfectly shaped women with basketballs beneath their shirts. Today, at week 32, I was warned that I may be having some heartburn due to my perfect little jicama (WHATEVER THE HELL THAT IS) pushing up on my stomach, and that taking Tums and propping my head up six inches “may” help. The truth is, for some reason, God decided it would be a brilliant idea to shove a 3 and 1/2 pound human body in a space that was originally the size of a plum. Instead of it growing outward or skimming the surface of its host’s organs, it literally moves aside the entire digestive tract until said host’s stomach is literally in her throat. This is insane. INSANE. And propping my head up six inches is not going to help my heartburn. Nothing can help a person whose stomach is in their throat. Continue reading
I cry all the time. I’m not depressed. I’m actually a pretty happy person. Life hands me some lemons, but usually it’s all lemonade and smiles around here. Show me a commercial with the perfect soundtrack and a well developed story line and I’ll show you an admiring consumer attempting to hold back the tears. You know that really awkward scene in American Beauty? Where weird guy next door describes the movement of a plastic bag floating around in the wind (pre-Katy Perry, thank you very much) and he starts crying at the beauty of it? I was right there with him. Yes, emo-stoner-guy! Yes! There is beauty in trash! Normal isn’t beautiful! Pain is in beauty and beauty is in PAIN! Continue reading
As I sit here watching my beautiful little angel puff attempting to eat his Disney pasta and peas, I can’t help but reminisce of a specific moment in my life. It was right after my wisdom teeth had been taken out. I was attempting to feed myself some Kraft Mac and Cheese (THE BEST PASTA IN A BOX EVER), but was so discombobulated that I couldn’t find my mouth. It was so frustrating. I was starving and all I wanted more than anything in the world was the delicious, orange, mushy-ness in my pie hole. Instead, I stabbed my cheeks repeatedly with four tiny knives like a drunken idiot. Continue reading