First Blog Post–Getting to Know Me

This is the post excerpt.

Hi all! Welcome to my first blog post!

My name is Tori, but I go by the name of “Momma” to two little rambunctious, intelligent, adorable, caring little boys–ages 3 (almost) and 1. This will be the first of (hopefully) many more posts to come! My current job is as a Stay At Home Mom [SAHM] to these crazy little spitfires. I am also a wife to a wonderful man who is not only my husband but is my best friend as well. Some history about Tim and I: We met when we were 17 at our first job. He started a month or two after I did. It was your typical story. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, both have significant others at the times, boy dumps (ex)girl, girl dumps (ex)boy, girl thinks boy is annoying, boy keeps pursuing girl, boy and girl become best friends over the course of a year. Boy asks girl out (for the third time), girl finally says yes, boy and girl become high school sweet hearts, take a break after about 3 years, go through some heart ache with each other, find their way back to each other a few months later, get engaged, get married, start a family, go through the roller coaster of life with all the stresses life throws, have ups, downs and everything in between, all while continuing to be best friends…and here we are 9 years later (Oh–that’s not your typical love story? Oops…well that’s how ours went (on the short hand version) and here we are loving (and sometimes disliking) each other ever since!

First off,  seeing as this is a getting to know me entry, I suppose I should probably give you all a little information about myself–my interests, likes, that sort of thing so you guys can…ya know…get to know me 😉

For starters: I am a coffee lover. Let me repeat: COFFEE. LOVER (Please note my blog name). I first fell in love in high school and have had an ongoing relationship with the stuff ever since. Now when I say “coffee lover”, I mean I need the juice, the good stuff, the caffeinated liquid Heaven in a cup to get me through my everyday life. Iced coffee, blended, hot. You name it, I’ll drink it. I sure as hell don’t discriminate.

Apart from being an avid coffee drinker (I try to limit myself to 2 or 3 a day, FYI–just needed Every. Single. Day.), I also have some other things in life that I like and am interested in. Music is a key part of my life. I love almost all genres: rap, r &b, country, classic rock but my favorites are rap and country (Not sure if the rule of opposites attracting applies to those two polar opposites, but hey, that’s okay)! I also love to dance, fish, read, write, play sports (softball and volleyball were my favorites) and work out, just to name a few.

I like watching movies; RomComs, some action, and just plain comedies are my favorite genres. Harry Potter series, Sweet Home Alabama, Bad Moms, Neighbors, Now You See me 1 &2 are a few of my favorites. As far as books, I prefer murder mysteries and some drama. Anything by Erica Spindler, Harry Potter (again with that darn Chosen One) are at the top of my list.

Like most people, I also tend to binge both Netflix and Hulu. The Office, 13 Reasons Why, Blue Bloods, The Blacklist, Chicago PD, Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law and Order SVU, One Tree Hill, Gilmore Girls, Making a Murderer, Shameless….those types of shows.

I love Italian food, Chinese food, and also a good burger or steak. Sweets are my downfall. I have one sister. I am the oldest of the two with there being a 4 year age gap. My mom and dad are my rock, support system, friends. I have a very close relationship with both of them, although of course naturally we butt heads from time to time. I have a very strong personality. I am very high strong. When I have opinions, I am not afraid to voice them. I love order, everything has a specific place and order and cleanliness make me happy. I am also very talkative. Although I have a strong personality, I also tend to be a little shy until I really get to know somebody. In a crowd, I tend to fall back and observe more than I initiate conversations (at least off the bat unless I know you very well). Once I feel a level of comfort and trust, I tend to open up a lot more. I am a very ambitious person and very driven. I am very task oriented and hate starting something if it is not going to be finished.

Some of the things I dislike and really can’t stand: Driving (let’s face it, people can be idiots on the road), CLUTTER (can’t stand it–literally makes my anxiety go up), rude and disrespectful people (I accept all sorts of people with differing personalities, political views, religious views, etc– as long as you can treat those around you, as well as myself and my family, well). My best friends are my ride or die. I don’t know where I would be without those two girls. They have held me up when I have felt like I didn’t have two legs to stand on and they have been there for me through the good, bad and ugly.

Now, since you may feel like you know me a little better by now, (and maybe too much for some of you at this point…hey, I like talking 😉 ), I’m going to shift some gears and explain why I decided to start blogging.

For me, life has not always been rainbows and sunshine, as I’m sure for most of us is the case. I have definitely had my fair share of issues, troubles, lessons, heart-break, but also love and happiness, all of which have helped shape me into the woman I am today. Without going into too much detail (who knows what might come up in any future posts), I have had a roller coaster of a journey that has led to where I am currently in my life. The things I really feel are important to talk about is my journey as a mom, wife and friend, success with being a mom raising 2 little ones, the struggles associated with it, and my (unplanned) role as a SAHM. I feel if I can write about things that I struggle with, succeed with or have any sort of knowledge about and anyone…even one person can relate to anything I’m saying, then I have succeeded with writing a blog. Let’s be real here. Motherhood is the scariest hood you will ever go through, and it is nice to know that there might be even just ONE person that can relate to you, and that your are not alone with the journey you are going through. If I can touch even just one person and help someone who is having a tough week, day or minute, then I am satisfied. I may seem like I have it all together, but I don’t and I think it is extremely important to share both sides.


Now, now that I have finished writing my first novel (who knew I would go from a first time blogger to an author in such a short period of time?), I will leave you with this: I look forward to writing more blogs in the future.

Until next time…

Peace, love, and happiness ❤




To My Best Friend–The Sister I Got to Choose

To my best friend:

It’s true when they say “friendship isn’t about whom you have known the longest…it’s about who came and never left your side”. If that were true, then technically speaking, we wouldn’t even be friends right now. Meeting you was a pleasant surprise. We didn’t know each other since kindergarten, or even high school for that matter. It was the first year or two into college before I even met you. But even the first time we met, I just knew there was something about you. Something that drew me to you. We just clicked. You were exactly what I needed when I needed it. People walk into our lives fr a reason. We met by chance, or maybe fate, however you want to look at it. Our significant others were best friends. It was a matter of time before we met, but little did I know  you would be such an important part in my life. Upon first meeting you, never did I expect to become as close as we have. I figured we would hang out in the same group of friends, see you when you came to visit, and maybe grab a coffee on occasion. But now, here we are, and obviously that’s not how our story went.

To my non-biological sister:

Thank you. Thank you for being my lightness in the dark. You make the good times better and the hard times easier. I have been through a lot in my life, even long before you and I ever became friends, but you have sat there and listened to every single story, demon, complaint and mistake I have ever made or went through without judgment. Thank you for always being my go to girl. The person I know I can count on any time of the day no matter what. Thank you for being one of my biggest support systems. Thank you for loving my kids as much as your own, even when they’re being little devil children. Thank you for being my human diary, because let’s be honest, I don’t think there’s much I don’t tell you. I am an open book and you know every single aspect of my life, whether I’m proud of it or not, and that is a tough job in and of itself. It’s a tough job to sit there and listen to all my fears, worries, horrible mom and wife moments, emotional break downs and everything in between with the patience and grace that you do. I don’t know very many people who would do that and still be standing by my side.

best friends

“True friends look at you with no judgment in their eyes, they know you’ve made mistakes but they accept you for being human and help you right the wrongs”. Thank you for knowing my deepest darkest secrets, my worst moments, my mistakes and poor choices, and still loving me no matter what, even if you most definitely do not agree with me. Thank you for being honest with me and not sugar-coating things.  Friendship isn’t about sugar coating things and telling your friend what they want to hear, it’s actually the opposite. It’s disagreeing with me at times, and giving me the reality checks when I need them. It’s telling me when I screwed up, and I know I screwed up, but still supporting me anyways. Thank you for not only making me laugh harder, but being my partner in crime as well. Thank you for letting me open up the flood gates to the point where I am a complete mess and can barely even talk, but talking with me anyways. I feel like maybe you should invest in building an ark or something with as much water works that come your way. No? Well then maybe I’ll use that for a Christmas Idea. Or at least a raincoat.


Thank you for understanding my sense of humor and laughing with me and sometimes at me. But most of all, thank you for being you; my ride or die girl, my chosen sister, and my best friend. Without you, I have no idea where I would be. I honestly don’t think I would still be standing with both feet on the ground without you. You’re stuck with me.

Xoxo ❤

To My Soulmate

In light of my husband and I’s 4th anniversary last week (9 1/2 years together, 4 married), I thought I’d take some time and write how I truly feel about this man.

Yes, I know I have been MIA for a while. Moving with two little kids 3 and 1 with a husband who literally works 80 hours a week on top of the birthday party for the kiddos will do that to a person.

Yes, I also know that these kind of letters are done all the time, but all of them are different because every relationship is different and while the same basic feelings are similar, everyone feels a little different.

So with that being said, sorry not sorry.

I want to start off by saying that I know you are not into the sappy posts, articles, anything of the sort. We are complete polar opposites when it comes to anything emotional, and that’s okay. I have learned to accept that as much as I possibly can, and you have done the same. So, even though you’re not as emotional as I am, I wanted to take the time to dedicate this post to you. Yes, I tell you most of this stuff in person, but sometimes considering I am not always the best with how I articulate the thoughts I’m trying to convey, it’s easier done in writing than verbally.

*Here goes nothing.* (Yes, you need to prepare yourself because it is going to take a lot of reading… 😉 LOL


To My Soulmate:

“We don’t meet people by accident. They are meant to cross our path for a reason”. When you first walked into my life 10 1/2 years ago, never in a million years did I ever think that we would be where we are now. I never thought we would ever date, let alone be married with two beautiful boys and still be together now. When I first met you when you walked into the place where my 16-year-old self worked, the first thing I thought was “Ooh! He’s cute”! Then I found out you would be working there as well. I got those giddy school girl feelings and was so excited and hopeful that we would actually work together on some of the same shifts. The way things worked out, we worked almost all of the same shifts, so we got to know each other really well. Yes I thought you were cute. However, the more we talked, we learned that we were both in relationships. Also, the more we talked, and the more you interacted with our other co-workers, who later became our really close friends, the more I found you annoying (hence why I say I didn’t think we would ever be where we are now). When I say I found you annoying, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was just annoying in the sense that you know almost exactly what I was feeling or thinking without me telling you, you knew when something was wrong, even when I didn’t want to talk about it, you had this personality that is simply just goofy. Everything was always a joke with you. You didn’t really take anything seriously. You were so kind-hearted, free-spirited, and just didn’t give a damn what others thought. You would take a serious situation and make it into a joke, and you did that with everything. Looking back at it now, I think what was the most annoying was the fact that at the time, you seemed to know me better than I knew myself. I was in a place where I was completely lost. I didn’t know which way was up, I was at rock bottom, and I had lost my entire sense of self and self-worth. You knew it on a minimal scale, but at the time, you didn’t know how damaged I really was; how broken down and crushed my spirit and heart was. So, with me being in such a dark and negative place, it also annoyed me that you were always so upbeat and positive because in my mind, I didn’t understand how someone could find the good in every single negative thing. So, instead of our love story being the “love at first sight” kind of story, ours was more like the  “If you don’t believe in love at first sight, do you want me to walk by you again?” kind of story.


However, little did I know at the time that you were exactly what I needed, even though it took me until a year later to figure it out. “He walked into my heart like he always belonged there, took down my walls, and lit my soul on fire”.  You walked into my life at the exact moment I needed you, and wasn’t able to truly appreciate you until I got myself together a year later. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I always envisioned having a soul mate out there somewhere in this humongous world, and then there you were. You walked into my life when I least expected it. You were there for me when no one else was. You were truly my knight in shining armor. As annoying as I found you at the time, you were also such a breath of fresh air. I was so drawn to you. Not only did I have a physical connection with you, but I also had that deep, emotional connection with you as well (even if nobody else realized it because of your goofy personality). I remember clear as day the shift we both worked where you slipped me your number. That’s truly when our story really started. Over the course of that year, we still continued to talk and we started hanging out, both with our group of friends, and just us. The more time I spent with you or talked to you, the more I found myself not getting enough. Even though we were both attracted to each other physically, we were also able to develop a very deep friendship in the course of that year. You truly became my best friend. You were the first person I would tell anything to, or cry to. You were the one I wanted to talk to when I was having a bad dad, and for that I was extremely grateful more than you will ever know or understand. You were filling a void that I didn’t know I was missing. If I thought about my future, even though we were young, and thought about my dream man, the more I realized that was you. So, as you know, over the course of that year, you started to grow on me. I will never forget the fact that you asked me out two times prior to the time I finally said yes. You were just so persistent you wore me down to the point I finally had to give in. Okay, not exactly, but you were persistent :). The first two times I said no had absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with the previous relationship, and myself, as you already know. I had lost myself for so long, I had to pick myself back up, even if all the pieces weren’t completely together and were hanging on by just a little piece of Scotch tape, I still had to do it as much as I possibly could. Even though you were filling the void of what I felt like I had been missing and desiring for a long time, I had to stand on my own two feet. It was so crucial that I found myself, at least most of me, before I entered another relationship. Thankfully, you understood that. So, as the saying goes. “the third time is the charm”, and in our case it was. I will never forget the night you asked me out, that last time. It was a summer night in the middle of June. I remember you flying home so fast because you felt like you were on cloud 9 and were so excited just to call me and talk to me. I remember me feeling those butterflies that never seemed to go away every single time I thought about you or was with you. I was so excited to finally be “official” with you, I was so excited for you to call me and talk to me until one of us (usually me), fell asleep on the phone. The rest from there, is history.

Fast forward 9 1/2 years to or present day.

Our story has not been the perfect fairy tale, as much as I would love it to be. I wish everything was as perfect as it was when we first started dating, as I’m sure most other couples do too. However, it doesn’t work that way. Life throws you all sorts of curve balls that you never even think of coming your way. Also, we’re human, so naturally we err. We make mistakes, sometimes stupid mistakes, sometimes bigger mistakes that we have no idea how we will make it through. I look back at the last 9 1/2 years and think to myself, “How in the absolute hell have we made it this far? How are possibly still standing?” Well, the answer is love. If you think back 10 1/2 years ago to where it all started, we had such a strong friendship and unbreakable bond that nothing got in our way then. even when people tried to interfere, other things tried to interfere, nothing stopped us. Because of that friendship that was built before the romantic feelings evolved, we have a different kind of respect for each other. We know each other inside and out. So take that, and add-on how much we love each other, and the fact that we started dating so young that we literally watched each other grow up, saw each other’s struggles, saw each other’s accomplishments and successes, and there you have it. We have already been through so much together that there is nothing we cannot face. No matter how hard we fall sometimes, and boy have we fallen hard, to the point where I didn’t know if either of us could get back up, let alone both of us, we always manage to do just that: get back up.


To the Man I Love with My Whole Entire Being:

As I told you on our anniversary last week:

I can’t always promise that our life will be easy or that I won’t ever disappoint you. I sure as hell can’t promise that I will be a perfect wife (even though I try, I still have flaws). But what I can promise you is that I will continue choosing to love you every day.


Thank you. Thank you for being the one person I can count on no matter what, even if I always see it. In the heat of an argument, I don’t always feel that. I feel like we aren’t on the same team, like we’re against each other, but deep down I also know that that’s not true. It’s just emotions getting in the way. Thank you for everything you have done for me over the course of the last 10 1/2 years. Thank you for always being there to pick me up when I fall. Thank you for always forgiving me, on the small-scale and big scale, even at times when I don’t deserve it, because let’s face it, I can be a complete bitch at times, but at the end of the day, we’re humans, we screw up. Thank you for seeing me when I’m a hot mess, and loving me anyways. Thank you for repairing my damaged self and building me up stronger than I thought I could be again. Thank you for being the man who I have by my side all the days of my life, I would do it again in a heart beat (even if Channing Tatum were to ask), I would still choose you every single time. Thank you for the two amazing boys we have. Thank you for everything you do, both small and big (getting me coffee every day seems to come to mind the most). Thank you for the life that we currently have. Thank you for busting your ass 80 hours a week at work even when I know you are dead tired and don’t want to be there, let alone get up in the mornings when you know you have to do it all over again and all you really want to do is sleep. Thank you for providing for our family, which in turn is allowing one of us to be around for the boys, instead of both of us being gone all the time. I know in our situation, you don’t really have a choice considering they have made it “mandatory” for the past 8 months, but thank you anyways because I know you’re forced to do it even though that’s not what you want to do. What you want to do is be home with your family. Thank you for always going out of your way for other people, it goes to show how big your heart really is. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for being you. Even though you may get on my nerves sometimes and we argue like we’re freaking siblings out for blood,  you are one of the best people I have ever met in my life. I truly appreciate every single thing you have done for me and continue to do, even if I don’t always act like it. Even when I get so frustrated because I want you home with us more, or when you are home I want you to spend time with us instead of sleep. But most of all, thank you for walking into my life at exactly the right moment when I needed you the most. Thank you for choosing me. Out of all people you could have chosen in the world, you chose me. I am more grateful for that than you will ever know. I couldn’t imagine my life without you, and hope I never have to.


Your lovely wife.

Parenting Groups Are For Stupid People

Love this!

Skinny and Single

silhouette-1923656_1920 (1)Recently I found a Facebook group for parents and gleefully spent hours there until my sudden demise yesterday. They kicked me out?

Yep. Kicked out. No warning. No nothing. There wasn’t even a reason for it, they’re just mean.

Well, ok, if you’re going to name your daughter Mayhem, I’m going to tell you you’re stupid.

If you ask for unusual baby names, I’ll provide such ideas as Muddle, Jabberwocky, Beepityboopboop,

If you say you don’t know what to do when your kid is hungry or hot, I may say something sarcastic like “are you fucking stupid?”

Other gems:

My son got Lyme disease from a tick bite but I didn’t give him his antibiotics correctly, did I make it worse?

My kid hasn’t pooped in so long that he cries and passes out from the pain. Should I take him to the hospital?

I can’t wait until my son…

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A Mother’s Love

mothers love

Often times I find myself thinking about how a mother’s love is different from a father’s love. After all, my husband loves our boys just as much as I do right? The truth of the matter is that even though a father loves their child just as much as the mother, the love is very different. Now that’s not to discount how much a father loves their child compared to their mother (let’s take out both the moms and dads who honestly give two shits about their kids, because let’s face it, there are plenty of those–I’m talking moms and dads who genuinely care). That’s not to say that a father loves their child any less, it’s just different.

I think back to the first moment I found out I was pregnant, each time. How much emotion was associated with those moments. The excitement, fear, tears of joy and sadness, feelings that I’m not going to be a good enough mom, how will my kids think of me as a mom? Will I be good enough for them? Will I do enough for them? Will they know how much I love them (because I loved them from the very moment I found out I was growing them)? I loved the idea of them before they even existed. Then, the fact that you’re spending tentatively 9 months growing them, now that’s a bond in and of itself. The first time you hear their heartbeat, the first time you feel their tiny little kicks that feel like little butterflies, to the big soccer players that they become in such a tiny amount of space, to finally meeting your child for the first time and hearing their first cry and looking into their sweet little face and coming to the terms with the fact that you grew that. That little tiny bundle of love was made inside you. It all adds to the bonds mothers feel with their children.

Now dads experience those feelings as well, I’m sure. But it’s different. Women tend to be more emotional and over think things a lot more compared to men anyways…I know because I’m a woman! For me personally, I can’t help but get emotional for every single milestone my children hit: whether it’s sitting, crawling, rolling over, holding their head up, walking, standing, talking, holding their own silverware, learning new words, whatever it is, it makes me tear up every time. As a mother, you realize that your babies are no longer your little babies. They are growing, exploring the world around them, and developing into the people they will become down the road. You love every single thing about them–their smile, the way their eyes crinkle when they’re laughing, their sassiness that you have no idea where they got it from (right honey?), their independence, their hair, their eyes, how they play with others, how much they tell you they love you, the list could go on.

Mothers love every single thing about their child. They may not always LIKE them or some of the things they say or do, but a mother’s love is unconditional. I can’t tell you how many times I have got into it with my 3-year-old because he wants to throw his little tantrums and kick and thrash around like a freaking fish out of water. Or how about when I ask him to pick up his toys, or tell him to go to time out because of something naughty that he had done or said and he replies, “No mom! YOU go to timeout”! I may not always like him in those moments, but I sure as hell love him. I have days where I cry thinking about how much love I have for these boys. I never knew how much love my heart could possibly hold. I thought my heart was full when I fell in love with my husband because not only is he my significant other but he is also my best friend, and had been long before we got together, so the bond was stronger. But my heart was still missing a piece (or  2 pieces). Sometimes I think my heart is going to explode out of my chest because I love these boys so much and I would do anything and everything for them, no matter what. I will go all Mama Bear and then some on anyone who even THINKS about, let alone actually hurts my kid physically or otherwise.

And this is why I say that a mother’s love is different from a father’s, because let’s be honest, which one of you dads sits there and breaks down crying because of how much you love your children? Anyone? No? A mother’s love will always be different than a father’s no matter how much both parents love their children. There’s a couple of reasons for this. One reason being is that the father doesn’t have that physical bond of actually growing the baby. There’s such a deep connection there that a father will never understand. Another reason why the love is different is simply because mothers worry about a lot more things, and different things, than fathers do.

A mother wants to make sure her kid is fed (and eating healthy), she fears for the future, even though there’s not anything to worry about…yet. She worries about if her children will be respectful, if they will treat others in a kind way, if they will be helpful. She worries about the day her baby starts dating, or starts high school, or learns to drive and takes the car out of the driveway for the first time, the day her baby graduates, goes off to college, gets married, etc. The father worries about the happiness of the children (as do mothers–but not in the same way). Fathers play with their children to ensure there’s a smile on their face, they worry about if their child is laughing enough, if their child is making good memories instead of negative ones, they worry about getting all the children’s energy out.

So, fathers, we know you love your children as much as we do. We know you care about their well-being as much as we do. Just keep in mind, a mother’s love is and always will be different from a father’s. And that’s okay.

Until next time…

Peace, love, happiness & lots of coffee! ❤

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When the World Isn’t So Kind…

Kids holding hands


Let’s face it. Being a mom is a tough job. It’s a tough job anyways without throwing everything else that comes along with being a mom into the mix. There are so many fears, fears that you never even knew you had until you had children. Fears of everything they get into while growing up, what they’re shoving in their mouths, if they’re really going to eat all the mulch on the playground or take a sip out of the bubbles like it’s water (Oh wait, those are just my kids? Oh okay). The fears we have when they start climbing: Are they going to fall? Please don’t break any bones! Oh honey, please stop crying, it’s only a little tiny bump (Oh My God. Look at that big knot on your head)! Starting preschool, then kindergarten, now they’re in high school, driving, dating going to prom, graduating, starting college (I don’t have experience with some of the latter seeing as my kids are still toddlers, but those are many fears and fears that I have already started thinking of)…the list could go on. But what happens when one of your fears is losing your kind-hearted kids to the world that surrounds them?

For me personally, as I’m sure it is for most moms, and parents in general, I love seeing my kids smile. Their smiles and laughter fill my heart with so much joy and literally make me smile all the way through my body to the point where sometimes I become an emotional wreck (even more than I can already be…Hey I’m a mom, I’m sure we all feel this way, some just hide it better than others)! Their joy, kindness, and good spirits are something that many of us adults don’t have anymore because in one way or another, they have been broken. One of my biggest goals as a mom is to preserve that spirit in my kids. We all want to protect our kids from any harm, it is a natural instinct. I will do anything and everything I possibly can (while still parenting) to not break their spirit. Because what happens when that light goes out? What happens when you stop seeing that joy in their smile? What happens when you stop seeing the light in their eyes, that special twinkle? Well, the simple answer, they become like much of the world. Now that is not to say, that there are no genuinely, kind people out there, because believe me, there are. However, I feel like that is becoming less and less. It is far and few between to find that a majority of this world treats each other with love ad respect, let alone simple human decency.

Navigating through parenthood is a tough job for even the toughest people. We need like 50,000 compasses for this shit…and sometimes, not even that would help. But trying to steer our kids in the right direction, and make sure they turn out to be nice, decent human beings, especially when there’s a good chance the world will turn around, chew them up, and spit them out? Now that’s a job in and of itself. You know the golden rule, “Treat others the way you want to be treated”? The rule that we learn when we’re about 5? Well apparently, WAY too many people ever got this lesson taught to them.

Love is our Mission

The world today is filled with so much hate and bad things. On top of that, there is also the natural disasters: Hurricane Irma, Hurricane Harvey, Hurricane Jose, Hurricane Katia, and the Earthquake in Mexico that are devastating millions all over the world. This should be a wake up call to people!! Now, I’m not the most religious person, (was raised Catholic, went to Catholic schools all my life, but due to certain circumstances and the strict teaching and beliefs of the Catholic Church, I went on my own path. That doesn’t mean that there are not still certain beliefs that I have, it just means that I can still be a good person, treat others with respect and be a Christian person without going to Church every single weekend), BUT there is a Bible verse that sticks out to me. “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken.”  Here’s your sign people!! What is it going to take for the world to wake up??!! All of the killing, theft, looting, kidnapping, and so on and so forth that is happening in our world is teaching our kids the exact opposite of what we try to teach our kids as parents. It is teaching our kids that it is okay to not have any general respect for human life. It is teaching our kids that it is okay to take things that don’t belong to you just because you want them. It is teaching our kids that it is okay to physically and emotionally harm others. It is teaching our kids that other people are allowed to do that to them.

So what do we as parents do to counteract all the indecency and cruelty that has become a majority of our human race? We teach them kindness. Now the answer is not as simple as it seems. It is more complex than even we can understand at times. We need to teach our kids to be open-minded, kind, loving, treat others with respect (even when others are not treating them with kindness…and no, this does not mean I am teaching my kids to be walked on like a doormat, but I’m also not teaching my kids to be so cynical like many of us have become). You know the saying “Kill them with kindness”? Yeah, that’s basically what our kids have to do. We don’t want to raise our kids to have some view of the world that everyone is rainbows and sunshine, otherwise they will be crushed. However, teaching them to be cynical, will just make them have a negative view on life and crush their spirits.

So, the bottom line is that no matter how hard it is, we need to instill in our kids the love, happiness, kindness, helpfulness and respect that we want them to share with others. I want my kids to know that when the world isn’t so kind, that I ( and your dad) will be there to pick up the pieces and glue them back together. We will be the ones to give you a swift kick in the ass when you are not always being so kind to others. We will be there to make sure that light in your eyes never go out. We will be the ones to make sure your spirit remains in tact and that it is not broken. We will be there until the end guiding you to always treat others the way you want to be treated no matter how old you get. We will be there loving you and building your spirit up.

When the world isn’t so kind, just remember: WE will always be there to bring joy and happiness to you and make you see the good in the world, even when it’s hard to see.


Until next time,

Peace, love, happiness and lots of coffee! ❤

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Pregnancy–A Beautiful Disaster


Pregnancy–pregnancy is a beautiful thing–isn’t it? Pregnancy is beautiful in the sense that carrying a baby is a beautiful thing, and by beautiful thing I mean you are bringing a human life into the world. You’re body created a life and is growing it and doing things you never thought you’re body capable of doing. However, the honest to God truth is that pregnancy itself is not always beautiful.

People always talk to you about the “pregnancy glow”, how “special pregnancy is because of the bond you feel from the get go knowing there’s a living being inside of you”, and whatever other sayings others say about pregnancy being beautiful. However, it is not beautiful for everyone. At least that wasn’t the case for me. I would consider my pregnancies as a “beautiful disaster”. There were part of both that were really, really amazing, but the majority of both faltered more on the “disaster” end.

Let me start by saying, for those of you who don’t know, or those of you who THINK you know, speaking from experience, not once but twice, growing a human life is hard work. It is mentally, physically, and emotionally draining. Picture getting hit by a truck, that is what not only my first, but second pregnancy was like.

Getting pregnant with my first was such an elated feeling for me. You see, my husband and I knew since we were young we always wanted 2-3 kids. The idea of having a family, raising little ones, what we would be like as parents, how they would turn out, what they would look like, what they would be interested in, what kind of personalities they would have, which of us they would resemble more, those thoughts made us completely and utterly excited for what was in store for our future. Little did we know that all of our hopes and dreams for creating our family may be ripped out from under us. I had went in for a normal routine check up, ya know, down south (the most dreaded time of year…at least for me because who voluntarily wants to be pinched and prodded down in that general area? We do it because it’s a necessary part of our womanhood). I had voiced some of my concerns that I had at the time of issues that kept popping up off and on throughout the years, which prompted the doctor to of course ask for family history. After giving the family medical history that I knew of, and based off the issues that I was having, the doctor flat-out told me that he didn’t know if I would ever be able to have kids. My heart sank. You know that ride, the Tower of Terror at Disney World–the one that’s a 13 story drop? Yea. That was my heart. I could literally feel my heart sink all the way into the bottom of my feet at an accelerated speed. I could feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes trying so hard not to escape the dams, all while of course thinking the worst. I told my husband, and he tried to be optimistic. We had had a time frame of when we wanted to have kids, and when we got to that time (which mind you was right after our wedding–in case you were wondering), we began to try. I can’t tell you how many times people asked us the 50 questions over and over. When do you want to have kids? Are you trying right away? Are you going to wait? And so on and so forth, and then of course following up with their two cents that everyone feels the need to give, but neither of us really asked for: Oh you guys are so young (we were 22 and 23 at the time of the first pregnancy), you haven’t had a chance to live your life yet (mind you, my husband and I had been together for 5 years at that point) and based off of the lifestyles my husband and I both grew up around, we had to grow up extremely fast, and were definitely a lot more mature than many our age. My husband works a job that is so physically demanding, and I had worked a job that took a toll on me stress wise, that we both felt 20 years older than we really were. We wanted to start a family young so that 1. We could physically run around and keep up with them, and 2. we knew we wanted more than one, and we didn’t want to be struggling physically and mentally with being older parents. We had a house at 21, got married at 22, and were trying to get pregnant at 22. We were responsible and always made sure our bills were paid. But I shouldn’t have to defend our reasoning to people.  There is no “right time” to have a bay. There are pros and cons each and every way you look at it.

Another thing I absolutely loved hearing (note my sarcasm) was that we hadn’t even had time together as a married couple, we needed to travel, see the world, do this, do that, it was basically a honey do list of things we should and should not do before we have kids. Now hold on just a second. I was under the impression that 1. This was mine and my husband’s decision, 2. This was our life, and 3. that we were ready to have kids. No? We’re not ready, we’re too young? No? This isn’t our life or our decision, it’s everyone else’s? Oh, okay then. I didn’t know that! If it was everybody else’s decision, then can you come pay my bills too please? ANYWAYS. We had started trying. The first month went by, I was 2 days late so I took a test and sadly it was negative. The 2nd month went by, and I was also two days late (mind you I have never been late. I get my period to a T and if I am under stress, then I get it twice in a month, but never am I late), but sadly it was negative again. I couldn’t get what the doctor said out of my head. Tim and I were both devastated with each negative test and we thought that just maybe, this was not in the cards for us at the time. So we stopped “trying” so hard, and just tried to be casual about it. The third month came. This time I was 3 days late, but given I had been 2 days late the past 2 months, I decided to wait a couple more days just to double-check. On the 5th day of being late, I finally decided it was time to take a test. It was the most nerve-wracking test I had ever taken in my life. I followed the instructions, took the test, and then it was just the waiting game to see the results. All of the times I had taken a test, I always got the same kind, the one that says “Pregnant” or “Not pregnant” (because who wants to guess on if there is a 2nd line or what it means if one is darker than the other), and also had the week estimator with it. The first two times I took the test the hour glass kept moving until it said Not Pregnant. So here I am waiting the excruciating 3 minutes you have to wait, and I’m so anxious that I peek over. The result said PREGNANT. When I first saw that, I saw the hour glass keep moving (I hadn’t peeked at the other ones until after I knew for sure it’d been 5 minutes so I wasn’t sure if the hour glass kept moving until the not appeared). I’m sitting here still watching the hourglass move waiting for a NOT to appear…but it never did. Instead, a weeks estimator came up estimating that I was about 2-3 weeks pregnant. I was so shocked and excited that I obviously started crying like a little girl. We couldn’t believe that our dreams were becoming a reality. I know it had only been 2 1/2 months, but to us it felt like a lifetime. We were struggling to become pregnant and we were lucky to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, I know that there are people who struggle with infertility, or can’t get pregnant and they’re scenarios are a lot worse than ours was, but that was our fear when I wasn’t getting pregnant and based off what the doctor had said. Now onto the pregnancy.

When they say every girl is different, every pregnancy is different, THEY ARE NOT LYING. I had no idea how I would be as a pregnant lady. I started showing at 6 weeks. From then on, I got really big, REALLY fast. It was the most uncomfortable I had ever felt. My stomach was so big so fast, that I literally felt like I was pregnant for 5 years. Plus I had found out so early (I hear most don’t even know until they’re a couple of months along), that it seemed to drag on. Apart from being extremely uncomfortable and the nausea the first 5 months, I was doing fine. Then around 6-6 1/2 months I wasn’t doing fine. I was getting extreme migraines (worse than I normally get, and I get the, really severely and really regularly), dizzy spells, and all of a sudden I would get really hot in the face. At my doctor appointments at that point were showing that my blood pressure numbers were slightly getting elevated. My appointments then became more frequent. They wanted to start seeing me twice a week (they don’t even start seeing you once a week until 36 weeks). My BP numbers kept reading higher and higher every time. I was having blood drawn twice a week to check my other levels to make sure I was not having issues with other organs in my body. I was having stress tests once a week, and I had more frequent ultrasounds to check my fluid levels. I had to do two 24 hour urine tests because my urine tests were coming back with trace protein. I was sent to the hospital twice for further monitoring, and then at 7 1/2 months was put on bed rest due to being borderline pre-eclamptic. On top of all of that, I was also anemic. My body didn’t even feel like my body. I was so drained, in part to the anemia, in part to being poked and prodded and having blood drawn twice a week, and in part from the pregnancy itself. I was extremely swollen and retaining a lot of fluid (the high blood pressure made it worse) and I could barely even put sandals on. They ended up inducing me 12 days early because not only did my urine test come back with trace protein, but my blood work had come back with one of my levels getting increasingly higher indicating that I could be having problems with my liver. which was not good news for me or babe.

I finally thought I was going to be put out of my misery by being induced. Boy was I wrong, and the scary part was nowhere near being over. I was on the Pitocin for 23 hours. I had been contracting regularly but luckily I couldn’t really feel very much pain, other than in my back (yay for back labor said no woman ever). I was not dilating, I was still stuck at 2. They upped my Pit all the way, lowered it and started increasing it again. After those 23 hours, I finally dilated enough for them to break my water. Once my water broke, things went fairly quick. I dilated from 4-10 within an hour. I spent about an hour and 10 minutes pushing, which I guess for your first one isn’t that bad, and HELL YES I got that epidural. FINALLY after almost 2 long days, our peanut was here, and I thought all the troubling stuff was over. Wrong again. Being so over the moon about our handsome baby boy, combined with being so incredibly delirious after not eating or sleeping in nearly 3 days and just having pushed a baby out, I forgot about the after part, you know, when they put you back together? Now I’m not sure how long that is supposed to take, but after a day and half of grueling pain and exhaustion, 45 minutes after delivery, and I was still not aware of what was going on. My legs were still in the stirrups, my mom and my husband were both on either side, and my mom had this look on her face. The kind where she was almost sheet white fighting back tears. I finally said “what the hell is going on? Why s this taking so long”? She looked at me teary eyed trying not to freak me out and said, “Tor, you’re hemorrhaging REALLY bad. You’re bleeding through all the stitches and they can’t stop the bleeding”. I remember seeing my husband look like he had seen a ghost. I remember being so completely and utterly scared of what might happen. The doctor had literally went through all the supplies in the room, and there were about 4 people down in my lady business. I was bleeding so bad, she sent my mom to go find another nurse to get more stitches. FINALLY after almost 20 more minutes, they got it to stop. They finally laid my peanut on my chest and I was just a mix of emotions having just delivered this tiny little human, going through that scare, and then finally being able to hold him. But something was off. He wasn’t making any noise, and he had stopped breathing. They took him away so fast, I didn’t know what was happening. After just going through the scare I had been going through, now I have to worry that I’ going to lose my baby too? My poor husband–thinking he might lose both of us in such a short span of time–I did not envy him. Apparently, our son had gotten too much fluid in his lungs, but after a few minutes they were able to get him breathing again. My blood pressure was still high in the hospital, so my doctor wanted to see me a week later instead of the normal 6. When I went in for my check up, she sent me straight to the ER. My blood pressure had been 200/100. After that hospital visit, I was on blood pressure medicine for a month before it finally got back to normal.

*Fast Forward 2 years*.

My husband and I were trying to get pregnant again. We had wanted our kids to be 2-3 years apart. I am 4 years older than my sister and my husband is 3-4 years older than his brother and 3-4 years younger than his sisters and we both felt that was too much of a gap. I was never really on the same page with my sister until we got older. When he was starting high school, I was starting college. When she was still playing with barbies, I was into other things. We wanted our kids to (hopefully) have a close relationship.  I know, I must be crazy, especially given everything that transpired with the first pregnancy, but like they say, every pregnancy is different, right? But we were willing to take that chance. This time was different in terms of getting pregnant. The first month came, I had been feeling really off. Dizzy, nauseous, blurred vision, and migraines. I took a test Christmas morning of 2015, and SURPRISE, what a great Christmas present we got! Going back to my conception date, we literally conceived the first try. This pregnancy was very similar, yet very different to the first. I found out really early, except this time I was a month along before I found out. I showed even earlier than the last time (I started showing at 4 weeks instead of 6), and I felt worse than I did the first time around in terms of the nausea. About 7 weeks in, I was feeling really sick. Turns out I was dehydrated on top of not being able to keep anything down. I had my first appointment around 8 weeks. Based off my last pregnancy, they were being extremely attentive and making sure they monitored me more. They weren’t taking any chances, and wanted me to call at the littlest thing, even if I thought it was nothing. As with the last pregnancy, we told our closest friends and family, but weren’t publicly going to announce until after the first trimester. We were a week shy of being out of the first trimester, and we were so excited to announce.

I remember doing my normal routine: going to work, picking my oldest up from daycare, coming home and cooking dinner, playing, getting him fed and ready for bed. One night, after cooking dinner, I started to get a dull ache in my lower back. I ignored it and continued to cook dinner for my son and myself. The more time that passed, the sicker I started becoming. I was getting nauseous and my stomach was cramping extremely bad to the point I was in tears. I put my son in his seat so he could eat, and I went to the bathroom thinking I would feel better. Wrong. I noticed a little pink on the toilet paper when I stood up. Next thing I know I have blood running down my leg. I remember calling the doctor, waiting on a call back, and calling my dad in the meantime, all while sobbing uncontrollably. I was scared at how much blood there was. I literally soaked through 3 pads completely within 45 minutes if that gives you any idea where that fear was coming from. The doctor asked if I had any cramping associated with the bleeding, and at the time my cramping had ceased, so I said no. She remained cool as a cucumber and told me that for right now, try to remain calm and not stress because stress will make things worse. She said no cramping is a good sign and that if I felt like I needed to go to the ER I could, but they can’t really do anything for it anyways. The best thing was to wait until first thing in the morning so I could get in and they could do an emergency ultrasound to see what was going on. After I got off the phone with the doctor, I remember calling my husband at work, still sobbing so much I could barely talk, and explaining the situation to him. He asked if I wanted him to come home and I said no because there wasn’t really anything he could do, and he said “I could be there for you”. I had called my closest friends that knew about the pregnancy because I was such a wreck and so afraid. My husband ended up coming home. He helped me get our son cleaned up and into bed, and he just let me sit there in cry. That waiting game was no fun, not that any ever are, but this one was particularly excruciating. Not knowing what we were going to walk into the next morning, if we were going to hear a heartbeat. I was so sick to my stomach I couldn’t even sleep. I lied awake all night and cried. Finally the next morning rolled around, and we went in for our appointment. They did an ultrasound, and much to our relief, confirmed there was a heartbeat. After looking further, it was found that I had a separation with my placenta and that was causing a blood clot. By the time the appointment rolled around, the bleeding had almost completely stopped. They warned that I could experience bleeding off and on throughout the whole pregnancy. Given these circumstances, I was considered high risk. I had appointments every week for the next month accompanied with ultrasounds every week to monitor the progress of baby, if the separation had gotten any worse (because if it completely abrupted it could potentially be fatal to me and baby, or at the very least, cause pre-term labor), and if the blood clot was getting worse or not. At the time, they didn’t see any immediate threat, but said I needed to take it easy, and try my hardest not to lift my son (how is that even possible)? They put me on bed rest at 3 months. I went back to having my appointments tentatively scheduled for once a month. About 3 weeks later, I started bleeding again. It wasn’t as much this time, more like a regular period. They did yet another ultrasound and determined that the separation had not gotten any worse, but the blood clot was definitely still there. I bled off and on for about a month and half. Luckily, I didn’t bleed anymore at after that, but there was always that fear that it would come up again. I was having appointments every other week, and finally the blood clot started to get smaller and smaller. However, I started to have a couple of higher blood pressure readings to make sure those didn’t get to be regular readings. At 7 months, I started getting real contractions (not those annoying Braxton Hicks). One night, I felt so sick and was getting the contractions to where they were timing regularly, I put a call in to the doctor. She sent me to the hospital, and turns out I was severely dehydrated and needed an IV of fluids. Considering how much water I drink on a daily basis, I was shocked.

The rest of the pregnancy went fairly well. I went in for my appointment 8 days before my due date. My doctor had been out-of-town the previous week and we were joking that I better wait until she got back to have that baby. This was her first day back from vacation. I went to do my routine urine sample, and I saw some foreign object in the cup. I was like “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS”?? I let the nurse know, and she let the doctor know after the ultrasound. The doctor checked me and I was dilated at 5 (a week before I hadn’t been dilated at all). She hooked me up to the non stress test to see if I was getting any contractions, but I wasn’t. She said if they’re even 7 minutes apart to call her. If my water broke I better be almost at the hospital before I call her because of 1. how fast I went the first time (once my water broke) and 2. how far I was already dilated. She old me she would most likely see me later that night, but if she didn’t it would definitely be first thing in the am. My husband asked if he should call off work and I said no. We joked that he’d be here for an hour and he’d have to leave. The rest of the morning and early afternoon I was having random contractions. I was waiting on a call back from the doctor when my husband left for work. They finally called back and told me it was baby time. All the nurses and the doctor were thrilled because they had ben honest with me that they didn’t think I would make it past 28 weeks let alone full term. I called my husband at work, and sure enough, he had literally been there an hour on the dot. From the time we walked in the door of the hospital to the time I delivered, it was just under three hours. I remember getting the epidural and the anesthesiologist saying “I’m not really happy with how that went in”. “Umm what the hell does that mean?” I’ll spare all the nitty-gritty details, but basically, the epidural did not work, baby was coming way too fast and I felt EVERY. SINGLE. THING. Peanut came out like a quarterback throwing a football it was literally that quick. 10 minutes of pushing and our second beautiful boy was here. However, because he came so fast and I didn’t have time to stretch out completely, I ended up with a 4th degree tear (sorry for the TMI). for those of you who don’t know what a 4th degree tear is like, just pray like hell it never happens to you. Because the tear was so bad, I had to get 3 little shots, 2 to my nether regions, and 1 to the other end. Yes I was still feeling this at that point (The Dilaudid was only JUST starting to kick in). Imagine 50 bees stinging you in those areas, that’s what that felt like. Considering everything that had happened, it was smooth sailing from there, fortunately.

I had a couple of friends who were struggling to get pregnant at the time. Some of them had been going through infertility issues for a couple of years, some coming up on a year. I would try to avoid talking about my pregnancy or my son as much as possible because I felt so guilty. Unless they asked how my pregnancy was going, or how my older son was doing, I tried to be considerate and not talk about them.

However, I did get the questions about how my pregnancy was going (especially the second one). In turn, I was honest and laid it all out there. To say I was a little annoyed and hurt by the responses from these “friends” was an understatement. I  understand they were having problems of their own, and that’s why I tried to avoid these conversations, but man! Responses to me explaining how my second pregnancy was going: “At least you’re pregnant”, “At least you’re pregnant with another child I can’t even get pregnant with one” or my all time favorite: “I’m sorry you’re going through that, that really sucks, but at least you already have one child, if God forbid something did happen”. Ummm, what?! What is wrong with you? Yes I am pregnant, but it’s not easy, look at everything I have gone thorough to remain pregnant. Yes I’m pregnant with another one, but barely. What do you not understand that I thought I lost him, or that I could still lose him at any point during the pregnancy?? I’m sorry you’re struggling, but DO NOT downplay what I am going through like it is a walk in the park. And yes, I do have one child, but if I lose this child, is already having one child supposed to make it okay? Would that be any better? No it wouldn’t.

You see, I knew these people were struggling, I knew these people were hurting, but so was I. It is a miracle my second baby was born, and that I ended up carrying to term and having no further issues myself. It was a miracle both of them were, if I’m being honest.

This would be exactly why I say that pregnancy is a beautiful disaster. For some, it is beautiful, and they love every minute of being pregnant. For some, like myself, it’s more of a disaster. It is not beautiful, there are difficulties, and you hate being pregnant, and that’s 100% OKAY. Everyone has different experiences. I think the idea of pregnancy is beautiful, but in reality, it isn’t always like that. Your hormones are all out of whack, sometimes you can’t stop getting sick, you’re in an insane amount of pain from all the stretching and the kicking, and the growing belly, sometimes you eat entirely way too much food…and that is all okay. Just know, if you’re like me, and you too, are or were a beautiful disaster, it is completely normal.

Until next time,

Peace, love, happiness & lots of coffee! ❤

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Marriage–The Road That is Always Under Construction

Marriage. Such a small word, so much power behind it. So many components go into having a successful marriage. Marriage is a beautiful, beautiful thing. It is the union of two people who love each other with their whole entire being. It is the joining of two lives and two hands into one heart. For most people, when they think of marriage, they picture a white dress,  a wonderful celebration with family and friends. They think of the honeymoon, and potentially starting a family. I was one of those people. The fairy tale wedding, beautiful white dress, walking to meet the man of my dreams at the end of the aisle, a whole entire day of sobbing and laughter, and just utter marital bliss. I knew that we would have trying times, bumps in the road, if you will, but 80% of the time I pictured happiness. Now, having been married 4 years next month, I view marriage as a road that is always under construction. So buckle up while I explain why I view it that way.

My husband and I were high school sweet hearts. We started dating when we were 17, having “talked” for almost a year prior to that before making it “official” (is that even still a thing these days)? Our relationship started out with a very, very strong foundation (especially considering how young we were at the time). When we first met, we were in relationships with other people. Timing wasn’t really on our side, and quite frankly, the feelings at the time were not mutual. I had a teenage boy who had a crush on me, and I, on the other hand, found him annoying. After a few months, he started to grow on me. I had gotten out of my relationship before him, however it had not been a very good one. It was very mentally and physically draining. Verbal abuse is no joke (not that the physical was any better), but verbal definitely has a lasting effect and really did a number on me (*Will be mentioned in future posts). My now husband had asked me out twice prior to us actually becoming boyfriend and girlfriend, but I was not ready to be in another relationship. Thankfully, he was very understanding and caring with everything, and over the course of almost a year, we built an amazing friendship. This guy was my very best friend. We fell in love very young, but there was no doubt in either of our minds that it wasn’t “puppy love”, we were truly in love. Everyone thought we were crazy. “How can you be in love with each other at 17? You’re so young, you don’t know what love is”. But little did they know, as silly as it seemed, we did know what love was, and we were in it.

I was there for him, with everything he had and was going through growing up (*Will be mentioned in future posts as well as both of our backgrounds are relevant to other topics) and he was there for me when I was at my lowest place. He was there for me when even my best friend at the time had no idea the extent of anything I had been going through. We would talk on the phone for hours, getting to know each other, and talking until I would (ever so gracefully…no I promise there was no snoring) fall asleep on the phone. Every time we would hang out, there were the butterflies, we couldn’t wait to see each other. The first couple of years of our relationship were great. Everyone could see how happy we were just by looking at us, we were inseparable. We were the dynamic duo, Bonnie and Clyde, and it was the best feeling knowing I had the love and support, and a best friend.

A couple of years down the road, when we were 20 (July 2011), we hit our first major bump in the road. He had previously been living with my family and long story short, we found ourselves living separately. We lost our way. We had lost who we were as a couple and we didn’t know if there was any coming back. We were at an all time low as a couple. We didn’t have that bond that we did, we were hurtful towards each other, we were still young and stupid,and our foundation was crumbled. Over the course of the next several months, we eventually found our way back to each other. We tried to reconnect and get our friendship back first because in the course of those months there was a lot of anger, frustration and heart ache on both ends. A little over a half of a year later (February 2012), we were engaged. Another year and a half later, give or take, (October 2013), we were married.

Since we went through our first hardship, we have faced SO many more (considering how young we are still, maybe we broke some kind of record). There are plenty of times when one of us, or both, have felt like throwing in the towel.  We have also had many, many MANY happy times and cherished memories. I view marriage as a road that is always under construction because it takes A LOT of work, time and effort to make a successful marriage. Just when you think you have everything figured out and it’s smooth sailing, *BOOM!* you hit a road block. Finding a detour when you come up to these road blocks is what is key. Marriage is hard work. Despite all the hard ships we have had, we have always found a way to fight no matter how much of our fumes are exhausted. No matter what has happened in the course of our relationship, we agree that love is the key.

A successful marriage isn’t being happy 100% of the time, it isn’t even always liking each other, but it is always loving each other, finding your way back to each other, even when you get re-routed with the road blocks, and always, ALWAYS trying. I sure as hell am not the perfect role model, or even a good role model for a marriage (hey, I’m human)! I have lost my temper, said things I didn’t mean, been hurtful to my husband, and I’ve screwed up, royally, to the point where I didn’t ever think there would be any sort of forgiveness and I thought our marriage would be over. But what has gotten us through all of those roadblocks has been our love for each other. Something to keep in mind is that nobody is perfect and no marriage is perfect. If people tell you theirs is, they’re lying. There’s going to be times where one of you screws up. You’ll have little screw ups and you’ll have humongous screw ups that you don’t know if you’ll ever come back from, but you make it work. Love is like a flagger showing you which way to go when the detours come up. It’s a big, bright-colored sign, saying “go this way”!! The important thing to remember is the road of marriage is always under construction. So buckle up because even though the road can be very difficult at times, it can also be smooth sailing, and it is DEFINITELY worth the ride!

Until next time…

Peace, love, happiness, & lots of coffee! ❤

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