Lets Give a Toast, to the Monday-Monday Moms!

Okay not to slap men directly in the face.. wait, yes to do exactly that.  Not all men, just the ones that take away from the joy of a baby coming into the world.  I change my mind instead of being negative, I'm going to be positive.  So I'm extending the title to the Monday-Monday dads as well. 

As I grow older I realize all of the hard work that my mother and father put into my childhood.  Just crazy, I feel bad for them because I think the job continues to get harder as I get older instead of easier hehe ;) But now here I am with so many of my girlfriends that our mothers and I am so proud of how well they are at being mothers.  I think magic happens in that delivery room, well actually before that because they start the magic nine months before.  It is amazing to see the differences in a woman as her pregnancy progresses.  I don't think that children are necessarily for me, at least for as long as I can see... But I will always have an enormous amount of respect for any woman that can take a 6 hour car trip alone with her little boy/girl and continue to answer, Why is the grass green? Why are we going slow? Why can't we race that car? Why can't we have McDonalds? and Why do I have to go to my dads?  Hopefully the last question is never asked.  I am also proud of all of my guy friends that work hard to be a part of their childrens lives, because I have seen that as well.  I just can't help but be a little bit jealous at this point (because I don't have a child) of the man, who gets to play the vacation dad on the weekend.  How fun to be able to go about a single life, and then 2 out of 14 days play super dad.  This is most often not their fault at all though because the mother would rather have their child all day everyday... and maybe that is how the man feels as well and it is harder on him. . . But no, no I don't think so.

I think that men should have to wear a pregnant belly for the first 9 months as well.  They can continue to go on the bike runs, get wasted at the local bar and have multiple partners... They just better find a way to do it with a 8lb belly.  Moral of my story.... I just wanted to rant about how proud I am of all women single, or  not single that are great mothers! I am so proud to know so many great women!

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A Bad Day Put Into Perspective.

I just love this :))

So.. the last 7 days have been anything but ideal.  Graduation seems to be more stress than pleasure.  I was letting the stress of the last semester of school, and my busy work schedule get the best of me.  I know that I do have a busy schedule and often take on too many tasks at one time.  Thursday when I left my love, blogging class, I was in the worst mood.  I came home and layed in my bed feeling sorry for myself during the 30 minute break that I was supposed to be getting ready for work in.  I left my phone on silent, not wanting to talk to anyone and continued to feel sorry for myself.  When I was in the car and on my way I called my sister back, my missed call.  She started off by checking on me because she knows how big of a freak I am and how I stress myself out.  She made me feel a bit better before she dropped the real news.  The real reason that she had called and not text.  Moudy, one of my best role models and friend, who was in remission of breast cancer, had just found out it was back.  All of a sudden everything changed.  My problems and worries were completely put to shame.  How could I be so selfish and all about me?

Moudy .. Ms. Moudy was my 6th grade reading teacher, but before that she was the high school cheer coach... and I, I was the little girl who dreamed to be a high school cheerleader.  Gross okay I know now, but it's the truth.  I was in the summer cheer camps she put from 1st-4th grade.  In 5th grade I made middle school cheerleader and she was my coach.  Oh, she was meeeaaanuhhh lol, she scared me at first.. pretty much everyday of my first summer.  I spent every summer with her from fifth grade to my senior year of cheer.  My senior year all the hard work that we had put in paid off, all of the saturday practices, everyday summer practices, camps, tumbling gyms, laughs, tears and a couple broken noses here and there hehe.  We won state my senior year, it was an amazing feeling.  I had amazing coaches and girls that I got to share it with.  Moudy is still an amazing coach, teacher and person that continues to mother many daughters through the some of the awkward years of their lives.  She definitely made us work and held us to standards that we didn't always understand.  No holding a boys hand in uniform? haha come on Moudy!  Now that I have gotten older I understand most of her logic, what I don't understand is where the dedication of teachers and coaches come from?  Every morning from 8-12 at the gym scuuurrr no thanks!  That is just me being selfish but of course her or Rochelle (assistant coach) don't have a selfish bone in their body. 

Well that is a little about her and her personality.  Although she doesn't have children of her own, she has many children that consider to her to be some part of a mother to them, whether she likes it or not! 

Back to the focus.  She is dealing with cancer again.  Every. Day.  It makes me sick.  Literally, sick.  I hate it how the most amazing people always seem to have the most unamazing things happen to them.  No worries though, she has gotten through it once.  She will beat it again.  If you pray, feel free to keep her in them, we'll take the help we get ;)

The D word.

The D word.  The D word is the code word I use for the ex love of your young baby life and or your ex future.  We don't name the puppy these days, just call him/her... The D word.  I will go ahead and share with you that I have been fortunate, or unfortunate enough to care about two special people, both names started with D.  As does the word dating.  So... it only makes sense to us. 

So none of my blogs have necessarily been about boys.  So this one, and hopefully only this one will be about it.  Living with two beautiful and intelligent young women, there are many boys that run through the talk of everyday dinner and social talk.  Although none of us let boy talk fill the complete air of all of our conversations, they always seem to creep up at some point.  One of my girlfriends who is happily boo'd up brought it to my attention that all of her single friends are all in contact with their ex boyfriends.  I, who am perfectly happy being lonely (really I am, not just a sad plea that I convince myself of) am one hundred percent guilty of this, as are both of my roommates.  We don't keep in every day touch with them, but there is always touch.  As I date or not date others and months go by, it begins to feel weird that I have not "checked up" or the D word has not "checked up" on me.  It is nothing big, but maybe just a hello, how have you been? 
-Why?

If I ever do decide that I am ready to move into a relationship is this something that I need to kiss good bye as well? . . . Obviously the D word blog has caught me in a good mood tonight, because I am not always as positive about our "check ins" . . . Sometimes, ... often times, I want to slowly cut one, or both of the D words, mainly one though.  I think D words like to slowly string women along as a back up plan, or is that what we are doing?  Who is really guilty?  Can we really blame each other? 

Eh gross.  In my case, I really do care about the(se) D word, as a person.  We both are well, but do not go well together.  It is almost as if we like to sometimes check to make sure the flame is still there, and once we do... the same things happen and we go back to our normal lives without each other.  Phsycotic  right? .... right.  I do however know that almost all of my girlfriends have been guilty of this act on more than one occasion.  The D word.  The word to use to mention when you are walking out the door and you are asked, where are you going?  The D word, that is your answer.  A way to let everyone know, you know how stupid you are, and to remind them that they are as well because we all have our guilty pleasure, our D word.  Damn you D word. 

I can't keep up with these turning tables.