S/O to my husband, love the SAHM

You know, I’ll never get over the fact that my first real love has become my husband, and the father to our child. Like really, in what universe does that happen anymore? How is it that we stumbled upon each other in this great wide world and just knew that we were endgame?

My husband is great. Yes, there are days where I wonder why things aren’t the same as they were almost 7 years ago. Want to know why they aren’t? Because a) we grew up. We simply couldn’t stay 14 & 16 years old forever. B) we got married. C) we had a baby. Things will never be the same, ever again. Will I miss those days? Absolutely. I think I will forever miss the curly haired boy I fell in love with, just as I hope my husband will miss the skinnier, more fun girl I used to be. We might miss those people, but I love who my husband is now, too. There’s something about growing up with the love of your life and watching them grow into themselves and become the person they’re meant to be. It’ll leave you awestruck.

If you had told me in May of 2011 that I’d met the man who would marry me, move me across the country, and father my children, I would’ve laughed at you. If you’d said the same thing in August of 2014, I would’ve told you, “I know.” If you told me the same thing today, I would tell you that I wouldn’t have it any other way, with anyone else.

I don’t think there’s any question that being a stay at home mom is work. It’s hard, sometimes. Okay, all the time for me right now. And my husband isn’t even home.

I don’t get laundry done, I don’t get the kitchen cleaned or the floors vacuumed, I am notoriously guilty of “fluffing” the clothes in the dryer 50272619432 times because I’ve meant to fold them and haven’t and now they’re wrinkly. Again.

Sometimes, I can’t even cook dinner because I’m needed by a tiny human that I nourish with my body. Is what it is.

I take those days with a grain of salt and plan on being better tomorrow.

Recently, I’ve seen so many posts in mom groups (because you know all we do while nursing a baby is scroll Facebook and discuss parenting styles πŸ˜‚) that sound like, “has your husband ever made you feel bad that he’s the only source of income?” And like, “my SO is upset because I don’t have time to clean the house and get dinner done before he gets home from work. We have a three week old.”

It just hurts my heart, honestly.

Do you know what my husband, who is our main source of income (this blog being my meager contribution lol), whose job is 100% harder than mine, who spends months away from us, tells me when I let him know that I feel like I’m failing?

That I feel like I’m slacking in the cleaning, the cooking, the daily getting stuff done?

He tells me I’m awesome. That I’m kicking ass at being a mom and a wife and that he loves me. That he’s proud of me, and that even though I feel like it, I’m not failing.

I think I probably expect more from myself than he does from me.

So, shoutout to my husband:

Thanks for working long hours. Thank you for sacrificing 6-8 months at a time without me, Ev, or the comforts of your own country. I appreciate how wonderful you were for the three weeks you got to experience hands-on fatherhood.

Thank you for never telling me I’m failing. Thank you for always lifting me up, even when I’m the one beating myself down. Thank you for coming home and asking what I need help with.

Thank you for being happy for me when I make it to Target. Thank you for all of the little things you do when you’re home, and all the little things you do when you’re gone, and thank you for being you.

Thank you for asking, “what can I do to help?” when you can tell I’m frustrated, overwhelmed, and being snippy. Thank you for loving me when I’m being that way. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to watch our child grow and learn from home.

I have loved you in all seasons, and in all seasons, I have thought, “there’s no way I could love him more than I do now.”

Thank you for proving me wrong, all the time.

XOXO,

The girl you called dibs on, the woman you married, the wife you made a mother, and the stay at home mom who couldn’t be more grateful.

Em.

circa 2013? I think? πŸ˜‚

2014 ❀️

2015&16, respectively.

2017❀️ also, photo creds to Madison Ashley Photography for this fresh 48 shoot- which I highly suggest everyone do!

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The Here and Now

When you’re pregnant, it’s one of the first things you hear.

“Oh, just wait!”

God forbid you complain about not being able to sleep (because, honestly, you show me one person who can sleep comfortably with a bowling ball on their bladder), because then it’s, “oh, just wait until baby’s here. Then you really won’t sleep!”

It’s common to wish pregnancy away. We spend 40+ weeks wishing it would end and that our baby would be here and then we could go on getting to know one another.

Don’t get me wrong. I hated being pregnant. I was so grateful and in love with the fact that I was pregnant, but ugh, I hated it. I couldn’t see my feet. Walking up the stairs made me out of breath. If I took too hot of a shower, I felt like passing out. Everyone said, “oh, just wait. You’ll miss being pregnant.”

I don’t. At all. The only thing I miss about being pregnant was the ability to wear whatever I wanted and not worry about the way it looked, because I was obviously pregnant and not fat.

I am appreciative of my body for doing so well this time, and I’m grateful that I got to carry my little human myself, but if I never had to be pregnant again, that’d be okay by me.

Then he got here.

And then the “oh, just wait”s started.

“Wait until he’s walking!”

“Just wait until he gets bigger.”

“Once he’s older…xyz.”

Then he got a little bigger.

“Don’t you miss when he was tiny?”

“It was easier when he was smaller, wasn’t it?”

“Do you wish you could go back?”

And it just got me thinking. I know everyone was well-meaning and meant nothing by any of the aforementioned comments other than to make conversation. It didn’t bother me. But it got me thinking about how much we look forward to something, or how much we miss something once it’s passed.

I want to live and enjoy the here and now.

I don’t want to get so caught up in missing that tiny newborn that I forget to enjoy the smily 4.5 month old I have now.

I don’t want to be squinting so far into the future that I miss the big moments of right now.

I think people as a whole have a tendency to mull over things after they’re done. We regret what we said, we wish we’d done things differently, we wonder what our lives would be like if we had made just one different choice. I think that’s part of human nature.

I’m guilty of it, too. Who isn’t? I mean, I married the boy I met at 14. What if I hadn’t? What would my life look like now?

But I did, and what does my life look like?

I’m a woman steeped in confidence, and a mother, and a wife, and I’m someone who is more capable of handling hard days than I was all those years before.

Do I have bad days? You know it, of course I do. There are days when I am not confident, when I do not feel capable of handling what life is throwing at me, when I do not feel like a good wife or mother. But the bad days don’t rule me. Because that’s all they are; a day. I wake up the next morning and it’s a new one to do with what I see fit.

The here and now is what’s important. What happened a week ago happened, and it’s over, and all that matters right now is right now.

Right now, I am 120 days into this second deployment and even though it’s hard, I am kicking it’s ass.

Right now, my child is down the hall asleep and I’m relishing the quiet of my house. (And also blogging instead of cleaning because I can’t stand the thought of cleaning atm.)

Right now, I am happy and healthy and so is my son.

Right now, I miss my husband. I miss everything he’s missed out on in the past 4 months, and I miss that he’s going to miss out on some more before he comes home.

Right now, I’m thinking that I probably shouldn’t have drank that 3rd cup of coffee at 4pm because even though I’ve done two loads of laundry and showered, I’m still wide awake and I should be asleep.

Sometimes, the here and now sucks, too. It’s not always grand. Sometimes, the list is more like:

Right now, I’m so tired I could cry, and I can’t fall asleep.

Right now, my brain won’t stop and I just can’t catch a break.

Right now, all I can think about are all the things that have gone wrong today.

Right now, I’m wondering how I’m going to even get through tomorrow.

I’ve been on both sides, and maybe on the suckish side more often than not lately. Getting stuck in a funk is usually a few days long affair for me, no matter how much “new day” I pour in my coffee in the morning.

I’m only human. I can repeat “it’s a new day; live in the here and now; don’t give up; you’re doing great; keep going; almost there,” a million times in a day, and sometimes it’s not enough. There are times where I find myself crying in the shower after spending an hour with a screaming baby who I know is about to wake up to scream some more. There are times when I wonder exactly how much longer I can have one more bad day before I really lose it. There are times where I’m just begging the day to be over so I can start over in twelve hours.

But eventually, I wake up and I have a good day. Ev takes good naps. He doesn’t cry because I stopped looking at him for five seconds. I get some housework done. Usually an amazon package gets delivered because, obviously a day is made better by that. I might get to talk to my husband for more than 5 minutes out of the day (a rare occurrence lately).

And on the good days, it just serves to remind me to enjoy the good day. I won’t dwell on how terrible yesterday was, or be anxious about how tomorrow will be.

I’m just going to enjoy today, the here and now, and I’ll deal with tomorrow when it gets here. Because who knows? Today could be the day Ev sits up by himself or takes a two hour nap. And what good will it have done if I was so focused on yesterday or tomorrow that I forgot to look up and enjoy the now?

Forget yesterday if remembering it is at the sake of experiencing today.

Stop looking forward if it’s causing you to miss the important things that are happening right this moment.

Wake up, and realize that you’re never going to get this day back.

Live in the here and now, and make every moment of it a day you won’t look back on wondering if you should’ve done something different.

XOXO,

Em.

Untitled.

It’s been awhile. Well, not really. I’ve written a lot since my last post, but 99% of the time, I’ve hit “delete” instead of “publish”.

I can’t exactly pinpoint why. All I can really say is that it’s really hard to publish your innermost thoughts and emotions when you’re having so many.

I write a lot. Always have. It used to be poems, stories, etc when I was younger. And then I found my voice and started putting it here. But lately, I’ve been stopping myself from sharing the things I write because I worry about having to talk about what I write with the people in my life. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to write it down, get it out, and leave it like that.

I have to preface everything by saying: this is hard. Deployment, parenting, day to day life, is just hard. And I knew it would be, and I promise I’m doing okay- really. So after you read this, don’t feel compelled to text me or call me asking “is there anything I can do?” Because no, there isn’t. I’m okay. I just need to put my words out there and also I really dislike social calls, so just leave a nice comment if you really feel the need to encourage me instead of calling or messaging.

Anyway.

This is hard. I’ve just got to be 100% real right now, because I need to be for my sanity’s sake. I feel like I’m floundering. I know deployment is more than halfway over. I know it’s got to end eventually. I know if I take it a day at a time I’m going to wake up one morning and go to bed with my husband that night. I know those things. I tell myself those things all the time.

Most of the time, they work. But right now, they don’t.

I’m tired. So bone-achingly tired. Not for sleep (though, honestly, I could use a good uninterrupted 8 hours). But just mind and soul tired. Reasons I’ve cried in the past week? I’ve still got some raging postpartum hormones and so I’ve cried over Netflix shows. I’ve cried because my child has cried all day for no reason, unless I was holding him. I’ve cried because my bed is really empty without my husband at home, and while I appreciate all the legroom, I’m dying for him to be back. I’ve cried because I just need to cry sometimes.

I cried because a friend told me, “you’re doing great.

Am I? I mean, am I really?

Sure, I tell myself I’m doing great all the time. I literally hype myself up 24/7.

I’m doing great.

I’d like to see other people handle this as well as I am.

If I can do this, I can do basically anything.

Hey, I cooked real food today. Go me. I am awesome.

You’ve got this. One day at a time, one foot in front of the other.

Honestly, if you lived in my head, you’d be a pretty positive person all the time. I’m my own cheerleader.

But even though I know that I’m doing better than some, and I’m going to be okay- this is still hard.

I’m frustrated. I don’t think there can ever be anything as absolutely frustrating as being married and having a husband who’s a great dad, and not being able to depend on them. Not that it’s his fault, because it’s absolutely not. He’s doing his job, and I’m grateful for it. But it’s just knowing that he’d be such a help if he were here, and knowing that he can’t be that sucks. Being a single parent when you aren’t single is…unfair, for lack of a better word, though it makes me sound entitled and bratty.

The other side of that coin is trying to be patient with someone who doesn’t understand you in this stage of life at all. I love my husband. But he left when Ev was 3 weeks old, and now he’s going to be 5 months old before the end of February and my husband had no idea what day to day life is like for us. Again, not his fault. Not blaming him in the slightest, because I appreciate what he’s doing and know that if it were up to him, he’d be here. But he doesn’t understand why I’m frustrated at the end of the day when Ev has cried for most of it, or has refused to take a nap all day, or because dishes from last night are still in the sink or because I forgot there was a load of laundry in the washing machine for three days and was only reminded because I had to wash clothes covered in baby puke πŸ™ƒ He doesn’t understand that I’m 350% touched out and don’t want to be used as a human pillow for naptime even though it’s the only way Ev is going to stay asleep; if I hold him, which in turn makes me cry some more.

I feel like I’m just…sucking. I know if I looked at it objectively, I would see that I’m not. I know that if I were anyone else, whose husband wasn’t in the military, who didn’t live in a state she hated, I’d be like, “wow, she’s awesome. I can’t believe she’s doing so well, all on her own.” I know that. But just knowing that doesn’t change the fact that I just feel like I’m slacking. My house is a wreck. I’ve been back in California for almost a month and you want to know how many times I’ve vacuumed and mopped my floors? Once. There’s still a suitcase that needs unpacking. My bathrooms need cleaning, laundry is overflowing, and I just can’t seem to get on top of it all. And I’m trying so freaking hard. But my kid takes two 30 minute naps a day (if I’m lucky), and is his father’s child, meaning he requires 110% of my attention while awake or he acts as though he’s been abandoned. That’s just enough time for me to load/unload the dishwasher, wipe down the counters, and maybe start a load of laundry I’ll forget about for 3 days.

He sleeps pretty well at night, but by the time night gets here, I’m so tired and have zero motivation to do anything other than shower and crawl into bed until he wakes up, like he does every 2-3 hours.

And I know: just be positive. It gets better. It’ll be over before I know it.

I know, those are all the things people say. They’re all the things I tell myself on a daily basis. But you know what? They don’t mean anything lately other than to say “you’re being negative. It could be worse. You’ve gotten this far, suck it up.”

Having bad days during deployment is normal. It’d be weird if I didn’t have bad days. But I’m so sick and tired of bad days. I’m sick and tired of waking up and looking forward to nothing but nighttime again because that’s the only time everything is quiet and an hour can pass where I’m not needed by anyone.

Life doesn’t suck right now. I know that. I’m blessed beyond belief and I thank God for all He’s done in our lives.

I just feel so many things right now. I feel frustrated, angry, sad. It’s not all bad, either. I’ve been happy, in a good mood, conquering deployment, too. It’s just that the crappy feelings are the more prominent ones right now. It’s the kind of “so-much-feeling” that it keeps you awake at night, no matter how much you want to sleep.

I’m going to chalk it up to a bad month. I’ve had a bad month, this 4 month sleep regression is a beast, I just need a break, and tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow’s gotta be better, right?

The sun’ll come out tomorrow.

XOXO,

Em.

Who I Was & Who I Am

I’m just dwelling on things as my 2 month old (😭 omg because how did he become 2 months old already) naps for the 3rd time today.

I saw someone post a picture on Facebook that read, “I was made to be your mom.”

It’s a sweet sentiment, I’ll admit. But then it got me thinking.

I was blessed to be my little Evvy’s mama, I wholeheartedly believe. I believe God knew just where my life was going to take me, and knew I needed Ev before I knew I did.

But I don’t believe I was made only to be someone’s mother.

Don’t freak out on me or get me wrong, here. I love being his mama. I enjoy my nights that contain a lot less sleep than before, I cherish sleepy baby snuggles, I adore his little talks. I don’t think there’s a woman on earth who could be a better mother to him than I am, because he’s mine. I grew him for 40 weeks (and 2 days πŸ˜‚), I’m the one who breastfeeds him at 2 am, he has my nose and eyebrows and I love him to bits.

Before Ev, I was someone’s wife. I was also someone who blogged a bit more frequently, went to the gym more frequently (at all, currently), cooked actual meals, and did her hair and makeup.

Before that, I was someone who worked two jobs, moved cross country, laid on beaches, and slept later than 9 am.

Who am I now?

Well, I guess that’s a loaded question. Right now, I’m a mom and not much else because he’s so dependent. I mean, heck, I took my first shower without my baby since my husband deployed when I got to my mom’s house.

So yes, I’m someone’s mom. My day revolves around what my child wants/needs because, well, they’re only little once.

I’m someone’s wife, too, but when you’re across the world from each other, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. You get used to doing everything by yourself and for yourself.

Right now, I’m someone who reads books to keep herself awake during a midnight nursing session. I’m someone who treasures nap time because it means getting laundry done. I’m someone who runs on way more coffee than she used to, and goes to the gym way less. I sleep less, write less, cry more, pray more, and want less.

I wasn’t made to be someone’s wife. I wasn’t made to be someone’s mother. I was simply made to be who I am, which extends to being a wife and mother. While I love the roles I fill, I’d like to think my worth extends beyond them.

XOXO,

Em.

I’m Going to do Everything Wrong…and that’s okay.Β 

Long time no see, faithful readers. (Are you even still around? I’m a terrible, lazy blogger as of late…but don’t worry, I’ll fix it.  Maybe. Someday.) 

I am currently 32 1/2 weeks pregnant with our little Everett, and despite the 4 younger siblings and insane amounts of practice with infants and toddlers and babysitting, I’m doing what all first time mothers do- reading those stupid books, blogs, and Facebook groups that tell you the best way to parent. And guess what? 

None of them say the same thing. 

According to one source, if I have my son circumcised, I am a terrible mother. Another says it should be done because risks of infection, what happens when they’re elderly, etc. 

If I choose to use spanking as discipline, I will mentally and emotionally destroy my child, he will come to hate and fear me, and it’s abuse. But if I don’t, I’m a millennial parent who doesn’t enforce rules, my child will walk all over me and be a spoiled, nasty brat who doesn’t respect authority or parameters. 

“Aren’t you going to breastfeed?” Believe it or not, it’s been asked. By people who have no business knowing whether or not my boobs are used for sustenance. Don’t you dare say, “no, I’m not really sure I’m okay with the idea,” or even “I’m undecided” because you will be bombarded by other mothers on the benefits of breastmilk and why your child should nurse until they’re 2 years old, and how could you not even try? But also, don’t breastfeed past a year old because otherwise your life will suck and you can’t go anywhere without your child and they become spoiled. (Everything spoils children nowadays, have you noticed?) Don’t breastfeed in public, because that’s offensive. But don’t cover yourself either, even if it makes you more comfortable, because then you’re not “normalizing” breastfeeding. 

Cry it out? How could you be so cruel? Cosleeping? That’s dangerous and you’re damaging your marriage. Put your child in their own nursery from day 1? You’re an awful parents who obviously hasn’t read up on SIDS. (Which honestly, I haven’t found a decisive reason/study as to why SIDS is decreased by baby sleeping in your room. Some say baby hearing you breathe helps regulate their breathing- but what about deaf babies? If anyone has a fantastic study, drop it in the comments.)  Room share until they’re 1? Spoiled, again. And you’re lazy, because you don’t feel like walking to their room for midnight feedings. 

Vaccinate? Oh, you must want your child to be autistic. (Vaccines don’t cause autism, but if you’re against vaccinating, cool. Just don’t use this excuse.) You don’t vaccinate? What a hippy. Please tell me about the rest of your conspiracy theories. Also, why do you hate your children? Do you want them to get measles and die? There’s no way to win here. 

Do y’all see where I’m going with this? No matter what you decide when it comes to parenting- you’re wrong. Even if you do all your research and use your own experience to make the best decision you can for you- you’re still wrong. You could have multiple studies on why your way is probably the best way, you could be endorsed by award winning doctors, philosophers, mommy bloggers- and there will still be those who vehemently oppose your parenting approach. 

So what’s a mom and dad to do? 

Your own thing. Parenting is hard. That much, everyone can agree on. I think. 

But as long as your child is healthy, safe, and happy- I think you’re doing okay. There are certain areas that aren’t and shouldn’t be a choice, like car seat safety or leaving them alone. However, you’ve got to make the tough decisions. Anyone and everyone could oppose you. I’m sure I’ll encounter a few of the “well, we did it this way when I was a kid and I turned out fine” people when we go home to visit. But guess what? My baby. My husband’s baby. Not yours, or your mama’s, or your great aunt Sue’s. 

Rick and I get to make the decisions. We get to decide how we parent. We get to read the studies and do our research and use reputable, scientific sources to make a plan, that I’m sure Everett will laugh at and make us wonder “what now?” 

So just a piece of advice and encouragement to all the other first time mothers who are sitting around going, “if I can’t do this or that, why can’t I do this? And how do I do that if I can’t do this?” Your baby, your rules. Your way. Make the best choices for you and yours, and then remember that the next mama might do the exact opposite, and that doesn’t make her wrong. Just means that something else works for her and her family. 

Less than 8 weeks until his due date, and then the real hard stuff starts. Thanks for reading after my *ahem* hiatus. 

Xoxo, 

Em. 

What You’re “Owed”

Hello, hello! It’s been a while, sorry, y’all. 

Life’s been pretty hectic over here, with me growing a human and courses and church and pets and visits and all! To catch you up: I’m almost 22 weeks pregnant, so over halfway there, thank goodness. My mom came to visit, our nursery furniture has been built, I’m planning a trip back to Texas (mostly to eat, but also because I miss my people πŸ˜‰) and summer is right around the corner. 

I’ve got a sister graduating high school, a husband gearing up for deployment, a body that no longer belongs to me (no joke, I feel like a host sometimes), and a really clingy dog and cat. My house is permanently a mess, the nearest Chick-fil-A probably knows me by my car now, and all I want is to find a bikini top that fits and won’t give me weird tan lines. 

Everyone’s having babies, and I’m in LOVE with Emma, Stevie-Lynn, Liam, Levi and all the other kiddos. Makes me super impatient for Everett to get here (oh, yeah…it’s a boy, by the way!) both because I want baby snuggles and also because my hips feel like they’re going to pop out the sockets. 

Now that you’re mostly caught up, let’s talk about something that has left me scratching my head. 

It’s common knowledge that if you divorce while your spouse is in the military, when they retire (assuming they’re career and qualify for retirement benefits), the spouse who didn’t serve is granted alimony from the veteran’s retirement pay. Even if you divorced 13 years before retirement. There are exceptions, of course, but this is what commonly happens. 

Personally, I already find that strange. Why would I be entitled to money that my husband earned, when we’re no longer married? But continuing on. 

In a recent Supreme Court case, a veteran’s retirement pay took a slight pay cut because he started receiving disability and that money- the disability pay- is untaxed, so in order to prevent “double dipping” his retirement pay changed slightly. His ex-wife sued him because her alimony from his retirement pay also decreased, and she felt entitled to a portion his disability pay. 

Is anyone else a little appalled here? Is it just me? Your ex-husband is receiving disability pay because of injuries sustained while on active duty. Why in the world would you ever be entitled to that? 

The state courts ruled in favor of the wife, but when the Supreme Court got the case, they ruled in favor of the veteran. As they should have. 

Now, don’t get me wrong- I’m all for the “what’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine” mentality when you’re married. You vowed to care for and support your spouse. But when you decide on divorce, unless there are children involved, what makes you think you’re entitled to anything your ex is making? 

Lots of military spouses are really upset with this new court ruling- but why? You aren’t the one serving. You don’t go on field ops. You don’t spend months training or on deployment. 

Do you have a job? Yes. Being married to the military is a type of job- it makes our marriages a little harder than most. We spend nights, weeks, months, sometimes more than a year alone. And I commend us for that. That’s hard. I’m doing it, I’ve done it, I understand it. But our job of being supportive and making sure home life is slightly easier than work life does not compare to our spouse’s job. They’re doing something selfless, and it’s harder than what we do. We are granted certain privileges (commissary, tax free PXs, Tricare, etc) because of what our spouse is doing. It has nothing to do with what you’re doing, kiddo. 

While scrolling Facebook after reading about the Supreme Court ruling, I came across several posts on several military spouse pages. Examples: 

“I hate LMH. Housing is a joke. My concession checks are never on time; I never get what they owe me.” 

“Tricare sucks. The naval hospital really sucks, it’s a teaching hospital.” (News flash: lots of civilian hospitals are teaching hospitals as well, sweetheart.) 

Just the complete and utter unhappiness is beyond me. Housing owes you nothing, dude. The only reason you have the option to live here is because of what your spouse is doing. If you hate it, go live somewhere else. Oh, wait. You like the fact that we don’t pay water or gas bills, and have the opportunity to get reimbursed for energy usage, and certain neighborhoods give you a portion of BAH back. 

Tricare? Dude. No insurance plan is going to be 100% what you want. Why? Because things like medicine cost money, and it’s got to come from somewhere. Personally, I love Naval. I’ve been here almost a year, seen multiple doctors and been to multiple departments within the hospital, and I’ve not had one bad experience. My prenatal care has been fantastic; I love my doctor. She’s actually PCSing before my due date, and is helping me see the doctor I want to see/she recommends, even though he’s pretty solidly booked. 

Hospitals anywhere are going to have good/bad doctors. Instead of being upset that you don’t like the naval hospital, maybe be grateful that you have the option to be seen at a civilian hospital if you so choose. 

Getting married to someone who is serving does not make you entitled to anything. Today’s generation are entitled and spoiled and don’t want to work for anything. 

Issues like this make me mark down the things I want to teach my son- work hard, don’t expect things from people, and don’t think you deserve anything. Do I think you deserve the world? Of course I do, I’m your mom. But am I going to let you get away with not learning the value of a dollar and hard work? Sorry, kiddo. Get ready to wait some tables and make some coffee like your mama did. 

Whether you agree or disagree, you still read it, so 

Xoxo, 

Em. 

Also here are pictures of life recently. 😘

 (I just love his little feet.) 

Things I Shouldn’t Have To SayΒ 

Hey, hey, hey! Your favorite blogger and mama to be is back in action from her too-long hiatus 😘 

I’m currently a little over 10 weeks with my little rainbow, and to be completely honest~as always, my readers~ pregnancy is KICKING my butt. I got so sick I couldn’t eat anything but crackers and some sour gummy worms for a week, and I lost 11 pounds! (Which, hey…if I wasn’t growing a human, I probably wouldn’t complain.) Thank you Lord, for wonderful doctors and wonderful anti-nausea meds. I finally got to eat a bowl of soup, and basically almost cried because I didn’t throw it up. You can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be reminding this child of all they did to me when they tell me I suck πŸ˜‚ 

As happy as I am to be carrying this sweet little life, there’s some things I feel like I shouldn’t have to say, buuuuuuut people force me to say them anyway, because I am loud, and also because I’m sick of it. 

  1. If you didn’t help make this baby (and I know who did, and it wasn’t you), you don’t get an opinion on names. Sorry, not sorry. You’re driving me nuts. 
  2. If you don’t like the fact that I’m not going back to Texas to give birth, sucks to be you, because you’re not invited to California, either. 
  3. No, my pets aren’t going anywhere. Yes, I know they’re hairy. No, they’re not getting “given away” because I decided to have a baby. They were my babies first. 
  4. If you haven’t been pregnant, please don’t give me pregnancy and/or parenting advice. I’m sure you mean well. But you’re just annoying. 
  5. I’m young? Oh, golly gee, I didn’t notice. Guess what? I’ve probably got my life more together than you do at 35. So mind your own business. 
  6. Please stop asking what tests I intend to run, what shots I plan on giving my child, telling me breastfeeding is best (lol because fed is best), and whether or not I’ll keep my child based on certain test results. It’s rude, you’re nosy, and your mama should’ve spanked you. 
  7. No, I’m not baptizing my infant. Why? Because baptism doesn’t mean anything (to me), if you don’t make the choice yourself and understand the importance of it. 
  8. If I don’t ask you to touch my as-of-yet nonexistent baby bump, please don’t touch me. It’s weird, you seem creepy, and I feel real awkward when my stomach growls and I know you felt it. 
  9. Yes, deployment is coming up soon after baby is due. No, I’m not moving home. Visiting, yes. Moving again? No. Why? Because a) I’m an adult, and have my own home b) uh, I did it once and it sucked and c) I don’t want to? 
  10. Again, the name thing. Really. Y’all are all on the track to not knowing this baby’s gender or name until I deliver if y’all don’t stop it. You’re not cute, you’re not funny, you’re annoying and my hormones are over it. 

Like I said, I’m super excited. I go to Babies R Us and walk the aisles way too often without buying anything, I’ve got like 50 different lists of things I might need, my Pinterest is overrun with baby pins. But dealing with everyone’s nosy, rude questions and awkward touches and comments about what I should name Peanut really just annoys me. And I cry when I get annoyed now. A lot. It’s ugly. 

I appreciate all the sincere wishes, prayers and genuinely interested friends and family who check up on me. Y’all are the bomb. This post is literally just hormone-fueled and I might feel bad for it later. (Or I might not. Eh.) If you read through my list and said “oooh, I bet she’s talking about me”, maybe just stop doing those things, yeah? And we can be cool again. 

Also, please stop asking about my birth plan. I’ve got 30 weeks to go, and you asking about how I want to push an 8 pound watermelon out is just really weird to me. 
Sorry I’m full of hormones and everything annoys me/makes me cry/makes me angry and my poor readers have to deal. If you’ve made it to the end of this post, here’s a super cute pic of my dog and of my super excited husband that also makes me cry because I love him so much. 

XOXO, 

Em. 

Why We Didn’t Keep Our Mouths ShutΒ 

So as most of my readers know, on November 7, I had a miscarriage. And since we had made the choice to publicly tell people about my pregnancy, I made the choice to publicly announce my miscarriage, and use that learning experience to create a blog post about it as well. 

On January 19, a little over 2 months later, at about 0730 in the morning, two pink lines showed up on a pregnancy test. I cried, I called my mom, I called my best friend who was on her way from 29 Palms, I called my husband, all while sitting on the bathroom floor. That afternoon I headed to a pregnancy resource center in town, with my best friend in tow, to get confirmation. I was prayed over, and left absolutely giddy. 

On February 9, I had my first prenatal appointment (I hate having blood drawn), and my first ultrasound. I saw a teeny little life, with a teeny little heartbeat at 133BPM. Just a few hours later, at 8 weeks, we announced this pregnancy publicly as well. 

Since making it known, I’ve gotten messages from friends and acquaintances saying, “why didn’t you wait? Aren’t you worried? I would’ve waited until I was past 13 weeks.” Well, guess what? Good for you, if that’s what you’re comfortable with. 

Me? Everything looks good. I heard that tiny heartbeat, and I’m confident. But the big thing for me is this: all life deserves to be celebrated and loved, no matter how short it may be. A baby isn’t a secret, to be hidden in the dark. So while I continue to pray, I’m also continuing to celebrate the life I’m growing (I use the term celebrate loosely-there’s nothing party like about morning sickness). 

This pregnancy isn’t just mine and Ricky’s child- it’s my parents’ grandchild, my siblings’ niece or nephew, my bestfriend’s joy, too. There isn’t a need for me to hide what’s happening, or wallow in the worry of every cramp and spot. I will continue to be ecstatic over the fact that God has blessed me, and when the time comes, I will teach that someone came before you, sugar bean. I’m going to rejoice in the fact that I have a reason for the 24 hour nausea, the back aches, the fact that I’ll be turning into a pink zebra. 

So far, I puke too often, mac&cheese no longer sounds good ever, I’m craving food you can’t get in California, I don’t sleep enough…but I’m beyond happy. Stay tuned for the next 32.5 weeks πŸ˜‰

Xoxo,

Em. 

“Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high…there’s a land that I heard of once, in a lullaby.”


Marriage is UglyΒ 

After being married for a year, I can say this: it rocks. 

You’re probably scratching your head because I usually use my blog as a format to complain and do Internet eye rolls. But today I’m just gonna be 1) sappy and 2) kinda salty. Anything new? (….nope) 

In the past few days, I’ve seen like 50 million Facebook posts and shared articles about how marriage is “ugly”. How it’s not cuddling in bed or making dinner every night. How instead it’s about slamming doors and harsh words. It’s about fighting and stolen covers. 

The whole point of the particular post I’ve seen is to shed light on the “reality” of relationships and marriage. That even though it sucks to fight and eat quick cheap meals and to have the covers stolen, it’s worth it because you love each other. 

…..okay. Sure. Give me bunches of negatives and say “but you love each other, so it’s worth it!” Right. That totally makes me think differently about relationships and marriage. Like maybe it’s not worth it.

 Instead, let me shed a little personal light on the subject of marriage. 

Marriage isn’t always easy. Most of the time? For us, yeah. But everyone is different. We fight, too. I slam doors and get angry that he didn’t get the oil changed like I’d asked 50 times. He gets moody and pouts about me being upset. You can’t help arguing. You can’t make everything perfect. Why? We’re human. 

But marriage=work. Why do we cuddle in bed before peacefully falling asleep? Because we choose to. We don’t go to bed angry. Why is there always dinner on the table or leftovers being rewarmed? Because I put that work in. Why is the house relatively clean, but always picked up? Because we work on it throughout the week. Why are we happy even when we’re mad? Because we work on it! 

This generation is all about instant gratification, and that doesn’t happen with marriages. The idea that your marriage should be all the stupid “goals 😍❀️” without you putting in work is laughable. Arguments are inevitable. Disagreements happen. Days are busy. 

But that doesn’t mean you get to go to bed angrily and say “well, that’s just how marriage is”. No it’s not. 

Marriage is waking up with my best friend everyday and grumbling about how early it is. Marriage is playing with the dog outside. Marriage is cooking dinner and snuggling on the couch. Marriage is “Netflix and chill” where sometimes you actually watch Netflix. (Sometimes. 😎) 

And it’s only that way because we’ve decided it should be. We’ve worked at it. We’ve said this is the way we want our marriage to be, and made it happen. 

Marriage isn’t ugly, millenials. Marriage just redefines your idea of beauty. Put in some work. 

Xoxo, 

Em. 

Photo credits to Katelyn Gebhard Photography 

365 Days of Legal Bliss…kinda.Β 

It’s December 20! Which means it’s our anniversary. So holla to us 🀘🏻 

No, we aren’t doing anything. He’s going to work. I’m babysitting during the day. He’ll come home, I’m going to cook dinner. And then he’s going to tell me about his day, we’re going to shower and go lay in bed or snuggle on the couch, and just be. 

We’ve been together for almost 6 years. This whole anniversary thing isn’t new, even if we’ve survived a year of marriage and 7 months of cohabitation. But here’s our take on it: we don’t make any one day more special or extra than others. Sure, maybe I’m cooking steaks tomorrow instead of chicken, and maybe we’ll reminisce a little. But tomorrow is just day 365 in our innumerable journey. 

365 days ago, I was in a hotel room with my bridesmaids, giddy. I don’t know what he was doing. Probably still sleeping, if we’re being honest. I was rushing around, forgetting things, shaving my legs (finally…I’d kinda been hibernating), and just in general being a mess. 

365 days ago, I was laughing and crying and wondering, “how did we finally get here?” Because since I was 14 years old, this was the end game. All throughout high school he’d told me, “I’m going to marry you.” (Which, so you know, is actually pretty terrifying when you’ve only known this guy for a few months!) And a year ago, we reached endgame. Then a whole new game started. 

365 days ago, I was standing behind my best friends with my hand in my dad’s, certain I was going to throw up. I have been blessed with some wonderful people. Stewart and Grace told me, “don’t worry. If you trip, we’ve all decided to throw ourselves to the floor with you!” 

And just like that, walking down a both impossibly long and impossibly short aisle, a chapter of my life closed. A new page opened and it’s currently got 365 days worth of scratch outs and x’s and mess-ups. 

365 days ago, I promised my ups, downs, and all the in betweens to my best friend. I promised to pray unceasingly for him and us, and go always keep the center of our marriage on the Word. I’d like to think I’ve kept those promises. 

It’s just another notch in our storybook. But let me tell you, this past year has been rough. 

December 20: hey we got hitched! 

December 24: honeymoons over. 

February 11: deployment begins. 

February-July: minimal communication, HUGE phone bills ($700 at one point), two jobs, oh goody someone stole the debit card, is deployment ever ending, I hate the corps, everything sucks, I’m dying. 

July 4: cross country move with me, my stepdad and the dog! Two days, four states, two hotels and a lot of miles. 

July 6: move in day! I moved into my very first home with the help of some of my most important people, I slept on the floor with my stepdad and dog, and also- Sonic was the very first meal ever had in our house. On the floor. 

July 10: my mom was the last to leave me. We got to the airport and she left, and if I said I didn’t cry all the way home I’d be a liar. 

July-September: sunshine. Misery. Trying to figure out how to be happy in a place I know absolutely nothing about. Making friends and sleeping on the couch because my bed was still too empty. 

September 12: probably the happiest day of my life, to date. It’s just such an overwhelming feeling when deployment finally ends. It means that, at least for now, there’s no more empty bed. There’s no more lonely. There’s no more empty feeling. 

September-currently: doing life with my best friend. We are living the life we’ve dreamed of together for such a long time. 

Yes, he drives me nuts. I swear, just because you put your shoes under the couch, doesn’t mean I can’t see them. I’m sure I drive him nuts. I mean, I don’t know how, but I’m sure it happens. But it’s not as hard as I thought it’d be. It’s definitely apparent a man lives in our house. (I was very alarmed by the fact that it felt like he didn’t belong here when I first moved in. But trust me, between cammies all over the house or boots in the hall, I know he lives here now ☺️) 

365 days, and about 220 of them were spent apart. You think you and your spouse’s arguments are bad? Try arguing when you’re 5,000+ miles apart, through staticky phone lines, and timed phone calls. It’s awful. 

If our first year of marriage has taught me anything, it’s to simply enjoying being. I take joy in cooking dinner every night, and in the way we walk around Walmart or Target on Saturday nights when we’re bored. I find happiness in our routine. I love spending each day with my best friend. 

365 days later, and I find I only love you more. I love the way you snore, and the way a sleepy hand finds it’s way to mine in the dark. I love your soul and everything else about you. 

365 days down, all the rest to go. 

Xoxo, 

Em. 

P. S. here’s some pics of my wedding bc I’m literally obsessed with my husband πŸ’•