Life and Times of a Mommy(:


I can’t even describe what’s going through my mind right now… On Tuesday my dad called and asked what the last name of a friend of mine was. I told him I didn’t know what name she would go by, as her husband and her were no longer together, so I gave him both names. He said that someone with the same name as her was in a car wreck over Memorial Day weekend.

I got off the phone and scoured Facebook. Neither her, her parents nor her brother had been on Facebook recently enough for me to think they would see a message from me, but I sent on to her anyway. I then Googeled every news station between my town and the Missouri state line.  I found multiple articles on the wreck but nothing concrete enough for me to know it was her. I went back to Facebook and compared names and ages. There was a baby in the car with her that didn’t make it. Later articles stated that there was another baby, who was 6 months old, in the car and was taken to the hospital. Today, I found an article, compared names and ages, and it is, indeed my friend.

Her, her boyfriends infant daughter, and her 6 month old daughter were in the car when my friend lost control. The car hit a sign, slid down an embankment, struck some trees, and landed on it’s side. My friend and her 6 month old were taken to a hospital for treatment, but her boyfriends daughter didn’t make it.

I can’t even describe the pain I feel. Her and I have been best friends since preschool. We went to school from then all the way through high school together. Despite some mishaps, we both graduated on time and together. I saw her in the hospital when she gave birth to her baby boy. I was a bridesmaid at her wedding. I helped her in her dress, helped her with her hair, helped her pee, fixed her dress at the alter, and gave the toast at the reception. Unfortunately, I haven’t met her daughter. I didn’t even know her and her husband had split up and that she had a boyfriend.

Life moves so fast sometimes, that you lose track of the people who have been there forever. You forget who has really supported you and stood by you through everything. You lose touch with the people who should be the first to know things. And that’s what happened between her and I. She has been my friend through ups, downs, high school, drama, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, divorces, and pregnancy. Remember those people who have been there through all that and more, keep them close. You never know when something like this can happen.

I apologize for such an sad post today. We will finish the 30 days tomorrow. I do not have any solid information form her or her family. After finding out about the wreck, I messaged her on Facebook, called both numbers I had for her, stopped by her house, and called the hospital she was at. I’m not pushing this issue, as her boyfriend doesn’t know me and if it is her, I’m sure he wont’ want a stranger up in their business at this point in time. Hopefully, I will have some information soon. 


Long Live

Have you ever had a person come into your life in a….different way and leave in the same manner? Someone that impacted you so greatly that you can’t forget them, no matter how hard you try? Maybe they were only in your life for a short amount of time, and they still have that impact on your life. Such an impact that things like driving by a certain place to listening to a song bring memories flooding back. For some people, that person is a significant other, or a family member, but for me, it is a girl I met in high school. I think about her constantly. I’ve tried writing about her a few times but just couldn’t quite get the words right. So today, I’m going to try again.


Her name was Elizabeth. We met my junior year of high school, after I moved home. We both had a mutual guy friend. His name isn’t really important so we will call him S. My dad and S’s mom worked together, so when my dad’s house burned down, he stayed with S’s family and another family that lived with them. That’s how S and I met. So when I moved back home and found out he was going to the same school as me, we started hanging out. At first, Elizabeth didn’t like me because she thought I was trying to steal S from her. (High school drama, it’s great isn’t it?) I thought it was rather hilarious that this girl, a sophomore, was so insecure about a guy, who was a total ass, that she was going to be a bitch to a junior. Well, in the mornings before class started we would all sit along a wall and hang out. S and I would be at one end, Liz and her friends at the other plotting my downfall. Eventually we both discovered that the other was pretty freaking awesome so we became friends.


Senior year rolled around and every morning we would hang out in the cafeteria. Well, in September, I found out I was pregnant. I was sicker than a dog Every. Single. Morning. for three months straight. Liz, being the amazing person she is, would come hold my hair back every morning while I got sick. If she walked into the cafeteria and I wasn’t at our usual table, she would come straight to the bathroom to check on me. When baby daddy finally left me, Liz and I made the joke that she was the baby’s daddy. Once I started showing, every time she saw me she would say hi to my belly before she would me. When I had the baby, she convinced S to bring her up to the hospital to see me.


Finally, I graduated and it was her turn to be a senior. Once I stopped working crazy hours, she was at my apartement. In May, right before her graduation, her house flooded. After this, her grandparents couldn’t really afford to have her live with them, so she moved in with me. Talk about some fun times!! I mean, we had fun when ever she came over to hang out, but now, we were living together!! We moved out of my one bedroom apartment into a two bedroom apartment. Guys, I’ve never in my life had so much fun setting up a bed. She had an iron frame bed with not one but two mattresses on it. It was the bounciest bed I have ever been on!! WE had so much fun in that apartment. Even had a party or two.

Then it all went to hell. See, the guy I had been dating (a friend from high school) and I broke up. I just wasn’t emotionally stable enough for a relationship. He had been staying at our place, so when we broke up he took his stuff back home to his mom’s. Liz and this guy had never met at school, they had met through me. (Which is were a lot of the hurt feelings come from, I think.) After he moved back to his parents, her and him became friends and started texting. He mentioned something about his mom kicking him out or something, so Liz invited him to move back in with us. The way we saw it, since he was in the National Guard and go paid like $200 every time he went to drill (once a month), that was an extra $200 to help out.

Things got awkward. They were friends, I had stuff going on and I didn’t know what my head and heart where thinking. (This is about the time my hubby comes in but we will get to that.) I couldn’t figure out if there were feelings there or not. Then, somehow, I figured out they had feelings for each other. A fight ensued. (No one was hurt. Just some very delirious talking, as Liz had been asleep, and yelling. I was yelling.) We made some rules. The rules weren’t followed. By either of us.  Eventually, the two of them moved out, leaving me and my hubby (we were dating at the time) with a $130 electric bill we couldn’t pay. They eventually moved back in and things never got any better. Finally, hubby and I moved out.

They got married, hubby and I got married. They got pregnant, we got pregnant. Liz, the guy, and I pretty much stopped talking. Liz and I talked about pregnancy stuff while we were pregnant but it just wasn’t the same. He would text me while he was at drill, which I found odd. I mean, yeah we had been friends in high school, and we had dated, but so much…..shit had happened that it just wasn’t the same. Eventually, hubby got annoyed by him texting me. My husband isn’t the jealous type (anymore), but he saw what I went through and how bad I had been hurt. So, he played a joke on them. It was a kind of juvenile one and it was taken too far. Finally, I said look, things aren’t the way they used to be and we obviously can’t joke around anymore, so lets just cut ties now. They agreed, although they didn’t see anything wrong with wanting to talk to an old friend.

I think about her often. Lately, I think about her at least once a day. I drive by the apartment complex we lived in together every day. I think about all the fun times we had and the memories we made. I think about every time we drove around in my car, screaming out song lyrics and making up crazy dances. I remember feeling betrayed, alone, and let down. I remember her making me laugh after I had just been balling my eyes out. I remember laying on one of our beds talking about boys and how stupid they were. I remember watching movies and crying together. I remember the good times and the bad times, but mostly the good. Every time I go to church (her apartment is by my church), every time I drive past our old apartment, every time I listen to certain songs, I think of Elizabeth and how close we were. The sister that I never had. The friend that I thought would be there for always.

If, God forbid, fate should step in
And force us into a goodbye,
If you have children some day
When they point to the pictures
Please tell them my name.
Tell them how the crowds went wild,
Tell them how I hope they shine.

Long live the walls we crashed through.
I had the time of my life, with you.
Long, long live the walls we crashed through.
All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you.
I was screaming long live all the magic we made
And bring on all the pretenders
I’m not afraid.
Singing, long live all the mountains we moved
I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.
And long, long live that look on your face
And bring on all the pretenders.
One day, we will be remembered.

-“Long Live” by Taylor Swift. This will always be my song to her. She may never think about me and we may never talk or ever see each other again, but I will cherish the memories we made forever.

Long live all the magic we made, I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.

Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.


Man, what is with this?!

It keeps trying to make me regret things!! Geez!!

Day Twenty-Two.

What is something you wish you had never done in your life? I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. I don’t regret anything in my life. There is no reason for it. Everything that has happened to me has mad me who I am today and I don’t want to change it. But, if I absolutely must answer then I will.

I wish I hadn’t skipped the entire second semester of sophomore(10th grade) year. That’s right, ladies and gents. I missed a whole semester of school. Why? Because I could. My mom didn’t really enforce me going to school. Why? You’d have to ask her. But yeah. I missed a lot of school. It all started with my getting suspended…

The school  I went to had a block schedule, meaning classes were like an hour and a half long and we only had 4 classes a day. There were also two lunches. Which ever lunch you didn’t have, you would sit in class and read during. Well. I was sitting in geometry, talking to my friend during this reading time. The principal walked in and saw me not looking at my book so he called me to the office.

He asked me why I wasn’t reading. He didn’t say anything about me talking so I obviously wasn’t going to. I said that I was re-reading a book and I had been staring off into space thinking about the book. He bought the lie I sold and said that he was going to suspend me. (Keep in mind, this was the first time I had ever been to his office for anything. It was also the first time I had ever met the man face to face the entire time I had been at that school.) He said that I knew what I was supposed to be doing during that time and there was no excuse for me not doing it. I told him to go ahead and suspend me. I didn’t want to be there anyway. He, now acting like the concerned school official, asked why. I told him that my mom had brought me there to stay with family to get away from my step dad. He looked at me, and then reduced my suspension from four days to two. He told me to stay the rest of the say (a Wednesday) and he would see me on Monday. I went back right before finals. And failed a lot of classes. Somehow though, I managed to pull out a C in choir and an A in gym, a class I went too for a couple weeks and missed part of the final. (Yeah, my gym class had a final! The heck was up with that?! A teacher tried to make me stay, too!!)

When I moved back I had enough credits to be junior (11th grade). So instead of taking whatever I wanted for 3 classes, I took geometry, biology, and history. And I made up English and Algebra 1 during summer school. I graduated on time with a 3.5 GPA. (Go me!!) So it all turned out okay!

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Daddy’s Girl

There is a song that came out I don’t even know when by I honestly can’t remember. The name of it is “Daddy’s Girl”. The first time i listened to it was on cassette tape. (Yes those were still around when I was little, I’m not that young. Geez…) The chorus goes “Daddy’s girl, Daddy’s girl./I’m the center/of Daddy’s world.” It goes on but that’s the only part I can remember. I haven’t heard the song in about 8 years, but that song sticks out in my mind because that’s what I am. A Daddy’s girl.


Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom. It’s a hard to describe, always changing love. But between my dad and I? The adoration and love never stops. I mean, it did once or twice, but every teenager goes through that stage of hating their parents right?

I was 13 and my parents were divorcing. My dad thought it would be better for me to stay with my mom. Especially since our house had just burned down and he was living in a small apartment in a friend’s barn. I didn’t think it was a great idea. Especially after my mom remarried. I tried everything to get my dad to let me move in with him. Nothing worked. Then we moved to little rock. Three hours away from my friends, my home town, my daddy. He didn’t stop it. Que resentment, hurt, and abandonment.

I finally convince my dad to let me come home after missing a semester of school. I was grounded pretty much my entire junior year of high school. Then senior year I was pregnant. Then came the time for me to move out. It was like moving three hours away all over again. I hardly saw my dad, we fought almost non stop, and eventually we stopped talking. Recently, my step mom told me that my dad had still been there for me. Waiting for me to come to my sense, all the while making sure me and my little boy had a place to live.

Not me and my daddy. The only picture I have of us is my junior prom picture...

Not me and my daddy. The only picture I have of us is my junior prom picture…

Through everything, all the stupid stuff I did do, the fits I throw threw, my daddy and I are still best friends. He is the person I call if my car does something funny (he’s a mechanic), I accomplish something no matter how big or small, or I just have a random question (which happens a lot). Even when we do fight and he “stops talking to me”, he calls everyday to check on my boys and my husband, but I’m sure its just to hear my voice and know I’m okay. I’m 21 years old, a wife, and a mommy. But I’m still, and will always be, a Daddy’s Girl. And I wouldn’t have it any other way!


Haunted at 17 (But Not By Ghosts or Anything Cool Like That)

So in my pursuit of interesting blogs to read I came across a post titled “Haunted at 17”. Now when I read this, my first thought was “Whaaaaaat?! Someone is haunted?!” Clickety click click…. I found distraction99’s blog. The series she is doing is called the Haunted at 17 series. (Go check it out. It’s pretty awesome! Libba Bray, author of the Gemma Doyle series is in there!!) It’s not, in fact, about being haunted by ghosts or anything, but about physical things that haunted them. Like their hair, and sex, and a past that was better than the present.

Me at 17 and about 3 months pregnant.

Me at 17 and about 3 months pregnant.

It got me to thinking. What haunted me at 17? Well, many things, frankly. And these things were somewhat different from the beginning of my senior yearto the end of it. I was haunted by fear. Fear that I wouldn’t get into to the school I wanted (Oklahoma State), fear of leaving everything I knew to chase my dreams. Then it was fear of being a single mom, fear of not being a good mom, fear of failing myself and my unborn child.
Senior year is supposed to be a time of having one last hurrah with your friends. A time for obsessing about college essays and scholarships and ACT scores. A time to say goodbye to the beloved teachers you had, and rejoice in never seeing the ones you didn’t ever again. For me, that’s how the first two or three months went. I mean I worried about that stuff through the whole year but after September, I had some more pressing matter on my mind.

Now I was never regular when it came to my…lady stuff. (I know, too much but I have a point, I promise. Do not click away!!) So when I was late and pretty much couldn’t remember when my last…lady thing…I didn’t really give it much thought. Until I almost blew cinnamon roll chunks all over the dash board of my dad’s truck. (And I can guarantee I would have been the one cleaning it up, no matter how sick I was.) Instead of heading to school, we stopped at my grandmother’s which was on the way. Once there, and after my dad decided to let me stay home that day, thinking I had the flu or a stomach bug, I texted my best friend and told her we needed an emergency sleep over with a pregnancy test that weekend. Before I could do that, however, my dad and step mom took me to the doctor to make sure I didn’t have the flu after the second day of almost redecorating the inside of my dad’s truck with yet another cinnamon roll.

Here is where my fear of deans and professors turns into fear of disappointing the one person I loved more than anything in the world. My hero. My protector and savior. My daddy.

So when my flu swab came back negative, my dad walked into the room and said “you have morning sickness”. I said yup and broke down in tears. After confirming my eggo was, indeed, preggo, we set up a meeting with the baby’s father, who had dumped me a few weeks before. (When I describe what the guy meant to me back then, people tell me I sound like a bad country song. So I will spare you that horror.) A few months later he’d walked out of mine and my son’s life, only to decide to come back when it was convenient for him.

Here is where the biggest fear, that still haunts me almost three years and another baby later, comes in. The dear of being an utterly terrible mom. The fear of failing my child(ren).

Over past two years, I’ve had people tell me I’m a great mom despite the challenges I face with depression/anxiety and a baby daddy that, I swear, is only around to make my life complicated and hard. I still have the fear of letting my kids down and damaging them somehow, but I just take it day by day, and hope they end up with more sense than I did.


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