Real Is In

August 28, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

My friend posted a video on her Facebook page yesterday about Pinterest Perfection. In the video it speaks to the impossible task of living up to the Pinterest world. At one point, the woman confesses, “Real is in.” Well, if real is in, I’m about to give our readers a full dose of real.

Do you remember my post two months ago entitled No Excuses, No Explanations? Well, I’m stocked full of them right now. You may or may not have noticed that I did not post last week. I noticed because it got added on to my list of reasons why I’m feeling like a pure flop right now. Are you ready?

I was already feeling blue before last week even hit me. Three out of my four closest friends in my new hometown somehow managed to plan all of their end-of-summer vacations at the same time. How dare they, huh? Add on that my BFF (Best Friend Forever) was visiting from Southern California and she left to go home on Monday. Post-BFF blues kicked in. Add on that my husband had been working crazy long hours. Are you seeing how my social support was lacking? That’s a sure sign of impending doom for my emotional well-being.

Then last Tuesday, I tweaked my back in the morning during a routine struggle to get my son in his high chair. I could tell right away it wasn’t good. I tried to work through the pain. I couldn’t take any of my known remedies, as there was a small chance that I was pregnant. As a result, I was left with Tylenol and ice as my only relief. Thankfully, I live in a very supportive community. I had a friend come and put my son down in his crib for his nap. That allowed for some rest on my end too.

So as not to drag out the story, I will sum this portion up with the basics. Husband called off from work, a trip to the ER was had, tests confirmed I was not pregnant so I could receive appropriate medication, x-ray showed a straight spine in all the wrong places, and my legs were completely uneven. In short, pain killers and muscle relaxers were not going to give me enough relief to get back to better. Plus, we had to cancel a destination wedding we had planned to attend this past weekend since driving for hours on end would be physically impossible.

Then, hormones hit. Oh, blasted hormones. How I despise you! As if pain hadn’t made me grouchy enough, hormones had to arrive on the scene. Sadly, my family were the real victims in this downward spiral. My eldest daughter took the brunt of it.

Every single time I think I’m going to seriously lose my mind with my eldest, I am forced to look at myself in the mirror. Does anybody else out there sometimes turn in to this ugly person that affects the behavior of all those around them for the worst? Generally, I would like to think that I bring out the best in others. That was certainly not the case this past week. I would gladly have preferred being sent away from society so as not to emotionally damage those in contact with me.

So, as things were looking particularly bleak, I began to add on more negative thoughts to really make the week eventful. I started to think of all the things I was NOT doing right. Our budget is a good example. Two pay periods of following the budget. Then BAM! Back to School needs hit. Now, I’m over budget, lacking in my usual social support, taking things out on those I love most, in pain, and fighting my primal desire to turn in to a werewolf the way Jacob does in The Twilight Series.

I managed to hold it together enough by continually pondering this analogy I once read: If you get a flat tire, you fix it and get back on the road. You don’t go and poke holes in the remaining three tires.

I really did try the best that I could to stop jamming a knife into my remaining three tires. My husband may say differently. He said one of my screaming fits with my eldest was almost comical. He referenced remarks made in Bill Cosby, Himselfwhen Bill Cosby speaks about how his wife was once beautiful and then she had kids. It may sound hurtful, but truly it’s the most honest bit of comedy gold when he describes how children change us.

I really was trying, then nature poked a hole in one of my remaining tires. I came down with what feels like a sinus infection. Surprisingly though, I’m surviving today better than I anticipated.

My friends have returned from their vacations, the close friend that tended to me all week is still talking to me, I had additional friends help me out, my husband and children seem to still think I’m pretty special, a Chiropractor visit made my legs the same length again, and we had a few fun and memorable things happen over this past week. My son said his first official word: shoe; and we hosted a last minute outdoor movie in our backyard with the help of some friends.

So, there’s a nice dose of real for you. Feel free to share some of the “real” you have going on in your life. I find that sometimes we just need to cry on the side of the road for a bit before we fix that flat tire and get back out there. My crying is done. Time to fix the flat.

A Testimony of Children

August 13, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

I’m a woman of faith. The word testimony gets used a lot when discussing principles of Gospel Truths. My very loose definition of the word is that it means we have a sure knowledge of something. For example, I have a testimony of the power of prayer. I know that prayers work. I’ve seen the blessings there of time and time again.

Regardless of one’s stance on matters of faith, I think you can have a testimony of other matters. I once heard a Mom say she wanted to have a stronger testimony of her children. What a concept, right? Imagine trying to learn and understand your children in such a way that you truly know them.

As a Stay-at-Home Mom, you’d think I would know all about my kids. I’m with them constantly. I know how they like their food, I know what shows they like, I know that they will whine and complain when I ask them to clean-up, and I know that going to the park still gets cheers from each of them. I know them. But, do I? I want to know more about them. Each of them. Individually.

Recently, I’ve been so caught up in social media that I feel like my children’s lives are disappearing before my very eyes. I want to know more about my kids than I do about the eating habits of people that I once knew vaguely in High School. It’s pathetic really how I get sucked in to the social media world.

So, Step 1, we can have lots of fun. Oh wait! That’s New Kids On The Block. Although, they may be on to something. We’ll get back to their steps in a moment.

Step 1 – Monitor and time my social media activity. I’m giving myself 30 minutes a day. This might sound excessive to most. However, if you knew how much I was really on these sites, you’d realize that this is a significant decrease.

I started timing myself today. I used 8 minutes this morning. Then, I was sitting in the line for gas (it’s illegal to pump your own gas in the fine state of Oregon) and instinct told me to pick up my phone and check the social media circuit. The kids weren’t in the car so I figured it wasn’t taking away from anything anyway, right? Then, I recalled an article that I read this past May called How The Smartphone Killed The Three-day Weekend. It explained how constant media use is, “robbing our brains of critical downtime that encourages creative thinking.”

Creative thinking that I could be using to come up with fun things to do with my children. Which brings us back to New Kids on the Block, we can have lots of fun. I want to know what makes my kids laugh the hardest. I’m pretty sure it’s when they have my husband’s and my undivided attention. If that’s the case, I can so easily give them more of that and therefore more fun in their lives.

Step 2 – More dance parties. My kids love them and they do a world of good for all those involved. I know some of their favorite songs. Maybe if I listen and observe a little more, I can figure out what makes each of those songs their favorite songs. What is it that pulls them in and gets them grooving?

Step 3 – Individual time with each of them. I don’t just want a testimony of my children. I want a testimony of Abigail. A testimony of Vivian. A testimony of August.

Sometimes I forget that playing with my kids is part of my gig. I feel like I should be cleaning and budgeting and cooking and tending to matters of the home. I forget that playing with my kids is as much a part of me raising them as feeding them is. Somewhere I misled myself into thinking that playing with my kids is me slacking. I should be “working.” When in reality, playing with my kids may very well be the most important thing I do with them all day.

That being said, I’m going to go play. They’re outside my window making chalk drawings on the porch right now. I think there may be a flower that needs to be drawn by this Mommy.

I’m going to go strengthen my testimony of my children. Please share ways that you improve your relationship with your children.

The Power of a Bucket List

August 8, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ 3 Comments

When I was 19, I made a bucket list of 100 things I wanted to do before I died. I’m not sure if it speaks to my lack of ambition, but I only came up with 70 items for the list. I lost the list over the years. Then again, at the age of 24, I decided to make a new list. This time I would only have 50 items. I remember reaching 50 too quickly, but running out of the space I allotted in my journal for said list. At the time, I stuck with 50 even though I dreamed of more.

Flash forward to this summer. A friend sent us her Summer Buck List for her kids. A lofty 100 items. I recalled not doing so well with that amount. I saw that there were 70 days remaining in our summer and decided that one per day was feasible. That magic number of 70 returned. Here is what remained from my friend’s original document:

We have 26 days left of summer. I am happy to report that there are only 18 items remaining on our list. I’m not so happy to report that Microsoft Word does not recognize S’mores and pedi as real words. How is that possible? I suppose I get pedi, but S’mores? Really, Microsoft? You’re as bad as Scotty Smalls in The Sandlot.

Alas, I digress.

So many of the fun things we did this summer were a direct result of the inspiration and motivation of this list. One of my favorites of the summer was our Throwback Talent Show. Back in the Spring, a couple of my friends and I had discussed how fun it would be to hold a talent show where the adults had to do talents that they did as a kid and the kids got to do whatever they wanted. Honestly, I don’t think it would have come to pass had it not been on this list. Isn’t the excitement of checking something off a list worth the time to plan and coordinate an activity?

Sure, I humiliated myself by singing Bette Midler’s “From A Distance,” but it was well worth it! It was a blast to see everyone else’s talents and to just have some good ol’ fashion fun. I will say though that in hindsight, I wish I had chosen a cooler song in my youth when I sang in the talent show in the fifth grade.

Everyone that attended said that they had a great time, which is always nice to hear. The thing is that the whole endeavor was super easy. I stressed out a bit worrying whether or not it would turn out okay. That’s part of my nature. I’m a stressor. Other than the unnecessary stress I put on myself, it was a piece of cake. Yet it would not have happened had it not been on that Summer Bucket List.

So to you, dear bucket list, I thank you. To my friend who was motivated enough to make the original lofty bucket list for her kid’s summer, I thank you. I have had the best summer of my life thanks to this list. I’m sure it helps that my new hometown is a vacation destination for most.

Seeing the power of our Summer Bucket List made me ponder my Life Bucket List. I’m now 32 years old. I know where my 24-year-old bucket list is, but I want to revise it. I made that list based on things that I thought I wanted to do. I made it based on what I wanted to accomplish so that I could be as talented as others that I was constantly comparing myself to. For example, I had on there that I wanted to learn how to sew. The truth is that I don’t like sewing. I wanted to sew since I admired, translates as envied, what other woman could create. So, sewing goes off the list. But I keep on my list watching the TV show Saturday Night Live live, eating Italian food in Italy, and going horseback riding. Plus, I get the satisfaction of checking those items off like riding on a Zamboni and watching the sunrise on another continent that were on the original list.

Go ahead, make your own bucket list! It’s not too late! Make it all yours! It’s a powerful thing and it’s never too late to begin!

Living A Life With Laughter

July 30, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

I truly enjoy hosting friends and family in my home. I don’t put on a fancy affair. It’s just Silo Red Cups and Dixie Paper Plates in my home. Depending on the amount in attendance, we attempt to sit the adults around our dining table. On that table sit two clear plastic cubes with cards inside, TableTopics Originaland Tabletopics – What Would You Do Edition. The cards inside have questions on them. They have so many editions to choose from now. I prefer the Original questions. These questions always make for interesting table conversations when we’re hosting.

One of my favorite questions, since it’s the easiest for me to answer is, “What is your favorite noise?” Laughter. Laughter is the best noise I’ve ever heard. There are a lot of beautiful noises in this world, but laughter really is delightfully infectious. I especially love the laughter of children. They’re so pure and joyful. I can’t help but smile, no matter how down I am, when I hear laughter.

The morning my Mom passed away was an incredibly sacred and special moment. There were many tears and heartache, but there was something I hadn’t expected. There was laughter. I laughed that morning. I laughed more than seemed possible. As I sat there with my brothers and our spouses, I laughed. I didn’t find it irreverent either. My Mom loved to laugh. She found humor in unexpected places. Whether it was a too-big-Christmas-tree, a garage sale gone bad, or a refrigerator stuck in a stairwell, she would laugh. Perhaps that’s why it didn’t seem inappropriate to laugh at such a time. She would have done the same with us.

“The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache.”
– Marjorie Hinckley in Glimpses into the Life and Heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley

She’s right, it does give me a headache. Certainly, I’ve cried my fair share of tears in life. However, I’d like to believe that I have met more moments with laughter than tears.

I was reminded again today of the joy of laughter. I think it does more than just lighten a mood or brighten a day. It gives a bit of hope to life. The laughter on that mournful morning of my Mom’s passing was filled with hope. A hope that it would all be okay. We would be able to still find joy in a world that at that moment seemed so unfair. Something I watched today confirmed that laughter is a symbol of hope in my eyes.

This past Saturday, we had a fire here in town. You could see it from most anywhere you were in the city limits. It was that bad. Shortly after the flames were put out, we received an e-mail informing us that the home on fire was that of a family who attended our church. The fire started in their living room and took the whole house up in flames with it. Thankfully, nobody was hurt.

A family of five lived in the home; parents, two teenage daughters, and a young daughter. The mom took footage of her first time walking through the house to evaluate the damage. In the video, she walks through the charred remnants of the home and cries as she attempts to explain which “room” she is standing in. It’s heart-wrenching. Just before the video comes to an end, I heard something in the back. It was laughter. It was the laughter of a young girl. Innocent laughter. It brought me hope for the family. I, obviously, have no idea the devastation this family must be feeling. It pains me to even comprehend the possibility of losing all my pictures alone. But then there is that laughter. An unharmed little daughter is laughing. There is hope.

I feel fortunate to live a life with laughter. Sometimes it’s harder to find the humor in life’s setbacks. When that’s the case, I like to turn to these little gems to brighten my day. I giggle every single time.

The greatest noise is laughter. Live a life filled with it!

Finding Happiness Amongst Trials

July 24, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ 2 Comments

This is my boy. Adorable, right? His personality matches his infectious smile and gorgeous blue eyes. This past week he was offering up less smiles and more tears. He got a stomach bug and was none too happy. From the looks of it below, my holding out on giving him milk was more devastating to him than the tummy troubles he was facing.

Seriously, look at that face. This is him looking up to me with desperation in his eyes for just a wee bit of milk. As this is happening, I have this internal dialogue, “Should I give him some? He just wants some milk. It probably won’t make THAT much of a difference if he gets a little? It will give him the comfort he wants. No, it will only make matters worse. Must not cave. I am the adult. I know what’s best.”

The latter thought is almost comical. I couldn’t be more clueless. My husband and I joke about how we thought our parents knew everything when we were kids. We realized, if they are anything like we are now, they didn’t know much. However, in this case, I think I may know more than my nearly 18-month old baby. Milk and stomach bugs don’t play nice together. I stood firm.

Thinking of this stomach bug and “forced milk fast,” I thought what I have thought many a time as a parent, “This may be awful for a little while, but in the long run I’m doing what’s best for you.” Shots at the doctor are a perfect example of this conundrum. I’m sure in my son’s mind, I am a big ol’ mean-o who doesn’t protect him from that woman with a needle. He screams in pain and for what? He doesn’t know that I potentially saved him from a life-threatening disease. He just knows I didn’t protect him from the pain.

Are you seeing where this is headed?

How often are we the 18-month old who just wants milk? The infant who doesn’t like shots? The child who hates homework? The teenager who feels alone? The college student who is trying to balance school and work? The broken-hearted? The victim of a senseless circumstance? The jobless? The daughter without a Mom?

Whether you choose to continue the analogy and make my role as a parent similar to that of a Higher Being or not, the situation is the same. We are meant to endure things that will ultimately lead to our betterment, if we let them. Certainly we can make choices to avoid such pitfalls in the first place, but oftentimes things just happen. Pain happens in every form.

I never dreamed of losing my Mom to Ovarian Cancer at such a young age. While I do enjoy writing, there are no words to express the sorrow I felt, and continue to feel, with the loss of my Mom. My Mom was intertwined in my daily life and was my best friend. Her passing affected my life in ways that I never expected. Those revelations are for another post on another day.

So, how is a toddler unknowingly fasting from milk similar to my grieving process of my Mom? Both “tragedies” would ultimately be for our betterment. Of course, it’s so hard to see that when you’re in the middle of it. Maybe sometimes you don’t see the long term benefits. I wonder though if we don’t see them because we choose not to see them?

Some good has come from my Mom’s passing. It seems so shameful to say such a thing. As if admitting that something positive was gained translates to me being glad my Mom passed away. Certainly that is not the case. I yearn for even a moment with my Mom everyday. But if I choose to only see it as a tragedy with no lessons learned, then I fear I would be wasting my life and my potential to grow.

Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth. We are happy when we are growing. – William Butler Yeats

My desire is to grow. To begin. Fear is such a natural part of me. Fear of trials has plagued me for years. I don’t want to fear anymore, I want to grow. Fear keeps you stagnant. Faith keeps you moving.

When I think back on the darkest of times in my life, I truly get sick to my stomach. There are feelings of sorrow and emptiness that I hope I never have to feel again. However, those moments have taught me lessons that I could not have learned otherwise. Even more, seeing those trials through and coming out on the other end has brought me a greater sense of hope.

While I am no doctor, I encourage you to ponder your current trials. Think about what your “forced milk fast” is in your life right now. As confusing and troubling as it feels in the moment, try to think of the long-term gain that will come from your perseverance in this situation. Whether you have faith in a Higher Being ultimately knowing your every need, faith in yourself to grow, or both; try to see the silver lining amongst the tarnished circumstance you are facing at this time.

I’m happy to report that after a day and a half of my son not having his drink of choice, he is back to normal and happily drinking his milk again. Remember the often used Persian proverb, “this too shall pass.”

Facebook Falsehoods

June 26, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

Social Media has taken over most of our lives. I’m as guilty as the next person. I only have three friends that I can think of that have made a vow never to get on to Facebook or Instagram. They don’t even have a blog for me to stalk. How is a social media stalker, like myself, supposed to keep tabs on my friends’ lives? Oh yeah, that’s right, we still have phones. Though it seems as though picking up a phone and talking to someone in real time has become archaic.

Alas, this post isn’t to rant about the lost art of proper communication. This post is to address the falsehoods that arise from checking Facebook and any other social media for that matter. The falsehood being the feeling that you are doing nothing while everyone else is doing everything.

I can’t imagine that I am the only victim of this falsehood. Or rather, I hope I’m not the only victim. Logically, I have it on good authority that nobody is perfect nor are they living a perfect life free of strife. However, emotionally, I sometimes feel like my Facebook friends are forever vacationing, those I follow on Pinterest are always doing fun crafts with their kids, and the blogs I read are comprised of families living the perfect life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for those I “stalk” to post all their dirty laundry. Quite the contrary. I want to teach myself to realize that these moments in time that are posted are just that; moments.

Sure everyone seems to be on vacation right now and I’m sitting in a city with gloomy weather this week. But guess what? Next week is supposed to be sunny and I have plans to float the river with my family. And you know what? I’ll probably post a picture about it. I won’t post it to rub it in any one’s face that I’m doing something grand and they’re not. I’ll post it because it’s a fun memory and I want to share it.

So, I’ll talk myself down from my Facebook Falsehood and then I’ll go on to Pinterest. Oh, Pinterest, why do you taunt me so?

The hardest thing to see on Pinterest, for me, are the millions of crafts and things you can do with your kids. Each kids craft I see elicits two immediate thoughts: 1) That’s cool, and 2) I’m such a bad Mom. Without fail, I see some hands on activity done with kids and I automatically think of all the things I am NOT doing for my kids that apparently every other Mom is doing.

I’ve recently realized that I was clicking on crafts that five separate Moms had posted as having done with their kids. The problem is that I was turning those five separate women into one perfect Mom. One woman might post a craft that prepares their child for Kindergarten, another has a quiet book they hand-made to keep their children behaved in waiting rooms, another parent will post about making play dough from scratch, another has made a board game that teaches their kids about numbers, and yet another will have posted a meal that has been cut into different shapes to entice their children to eat their vegetables. Perhaps there is a Mom that has done all of these 5 things. I’d like to believe she is not doing it all in one day nor everyday. She is doing it in “moments.”

This happened today. I let the kids put every clip we owned into my hair and I wore it out in public. This isn’t going to end up on Pinterest. It’s certainly not a cute craft that is sweeping the Internet. However, I imagine it will be something my kids remember. They were having a blast disowning me in public. But, in case there was some doubt, I do not do this everyday. I did it for a moment.

I live a life filled with significant and insignificant moments. Some days I have the courage to go out looking silly and other days I don’t have the energy to even face the world. Please know that I am not a woman solely made up of Facebook posts nor are any of the other people you follow.

Do not fall in to the trap of comparing your life of one single person against the combined total of every talent, vacation, success, and virtue of your entire social media list. You will never win that battle. Think of the rich blessings you have that aren’t being posted. Your talents, whether big or small, that are not receiving media attention of any kind. We have a choice to be grateful. More important than that, we owe it to ourselves to live in a reality. Unrealistic comparisons and beliefs of the grandeur of others’ lives sounds nightmarish.

Take a moment and look at the things you DO have going for you in your life. Sometimes reality can be better than our dreams; sometimes it’s not. Then, make a point this week to touch base with a loved one outside of a social media and find out how their “reality” is going this week. You might find yourself more likely to relate to the following quote upon doing so:

Friendship is born at that moment
when one person says to another,
“What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”

– C. S. Lewis

Honesty Shared

May 26, 2013February 10, 2016 ~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

Starting at a young age, I got called “Mom” a lot. I even recall my own Mom and brothers responding to my remarks with an, “OK, Mom.” As I grew older, the term would be used amongst friends, then co-workers. I always took it as a compliment. I see now that it wasn’t always delivered as such. Nevertheless, I thought the term implied that I was a natural at being a Mom. On the day my eldest was born, I learned that Motherhood was not as natural as I had imagined.

Abigail joined our family 6 weeks earlier than her expected arrival. Just prior to delivery, my nurse came in to inform me that there would be more nurses than usual in the room to prepare for any possible complications, as a result of her premature arrival. At the time, I thought nothing of how this was not going along with my preconceived idea of having a baby. I was too scared for any reflection on the scenario. Before I knew it, I delivered Abby, they checked her out, cleaned her up, let me kiss her cheek, snapped a picture, and they whisked her off to the NICU. It was one of the most amazing feelings to know I helped bring life into the world. I had delivered a baby. I was on cloud nine. Complete euphoria.

It would be three more days before I held her in my arms. She was still covered in cords and surrounded with so much padding that it was tough to really hold her close to me. Postpartum emotions were starting to set in, my body was not healing properly, breast-feeding was completely unsuccessful and I was growing tired of the multiple trips to and from the NICU. I wanted my baby home.

Then she came home. A few days into her being home, I began to realize that this whole situation had not gone as planned. I was supposed to deliver a healthy baby girl, they were supposed to clean her up and lay her in my arms, I would then get a picture of that magical moment when the baby looks in her Mom’s eyes and the Mom still has that birth glow, then I would start to breast-feed my baby and she would take to it perfectly. Motherhood is natural and naturally that’s how things should’ve gone in my eyes.

Yet nothing felt natural. My daughter was colicky, she had acid reflux, and she didn’t seem to like me very much. Suddenly, I found myself in the depths of depression. I realized that Postpartum depression (PPD) had happened to me without me even realizing it. It snuck in and set up shop.

Addressing the topic of PPD is for another post at another time. This post is to tell you of an unforgettable conversation I had with a woman about a month after I delivered Abby. So, I told you all of that, to tell you this…

The conversation is still so vivid that I can see where I’m standing, which way I’m facing, and what the weather was like outside the adjacent window. The woman was a friend of mine who was a young Mom like me. I had conveniently hid all of my feelings of sadness to the outside world, as my heart was filled with too much shame over the matter. We were having small talk about having a baby when she asked me how I was doing. I must have made some comment hinting to my true feelings. She shared with me how difficult it was for her when she first had her baby. She shared that she was jealous that her husband got to go to work and she had to stay home.

It seems like such an uninfluential remark to make about being a new Mom, but she changed my way of thinking in that very moment. She was basically telling me that it’s not perfect for her. Up until that point, I had only heard perfect stories. Since then, I have heard many an imperfect birth story. The birth of my second child could be added to the imperfect birth story list. However, at the time, this woman was doing something I had yet to hear. She was being honest with me about matters that so many women aren’t honest about.

In the hustle of people around us, she ended up having to leave. I remember so desperately wanting to talk to her more. I wanted to know that I would be okay. I wanted to know that what I was feeling didn’t have to be shameful. I loved and adored my daughter, but why wasn’t the bond that I had envisioned there between us? I thought maybe this woman might have more answers for me.

I don’t remember the conversation ever getting picked back up later. All I know is that from that day forward, I started to let some of my real feelings slip out into conversations. I started to feel less shame. I got help through medication and didn’t hide that I had done so. I warned mothers-to-be of the potential of PPD. I opened myself up to being more vulnerable.

I don’t introduce myself with a list of my short-comings and vices. However, as people take the time to get to know me, I take the time to share me; the real me. That’s one of the main reasons that I want to do this blog. I want to share me. Someone shared their real feelings with me and it helped get me through a dark time. My goal is to pay that same gift forward.

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