If you know me, then you know that I didn't just become this fabulous overnight. Oh no, it was a long process that was made INFINITELY better thanks to those I have been blessed to call my friends. I know that the term is used loosely for some, but my true friends are those who have been with me through any/everything. No, we haven't known each other since the womb and I rather like it that way. We are a mix-up of quirky personalities and OCD compulsions. I would not be who I am today without my truest of friends - who, over time, became my family. For "Lesson #8" I thought it was appropriate to "pass the torch," if you will, to one of the most important ladies in my life. She has gotten me through a lot - and has done most of it with a smile. She is one of the few people able to make me pee-my-pants-with-laughter even when I'm in the crankiest of moods...one of my best friends...The Brunette:
We all come from a different past, a different life with different experiences… Although in the case of Working Mommy and myself a lot are shared. We are all in different places in our lives… Working Mommy is a mother and a wife, of which I am neither. Our bonds don’t come from being in the same places in life or sharing views… Boy do we differ in a lot of ways. They forged from something deeper and more powerful than anything else… Laughter. And from that first laugh they’ve grown so much. But that all-important foundation is always there and always valued.
Every girl, young or old, naughty or nice, blonde or brunette, deserves that one friend… The person who can make you laugh no matter what. And if you’re really lucky, like I am, you might even have a few… One of whom this blog belongs to and who graciously allowed me to impart some wisdom as a guest blogger.
Now, I’m not talking about a giggle or a chuckle… I’m talking milk-spraying-out-of-your-nose, choke-on-your-own-spit, almost-swallow-your-tongue kind of laughter. You can only really let yourself completely be in the moment like that with special people. It’s a combination of silliness and being comfortable with each other when you really let yourself laugh. Trust is a key component in this kind of laughter. The trust you feel when you can really let yourself go and laugh like that with someone is the same trust you feel when you can cry with someone or be vulnerable with someone. It’s a two-way street that is only shared by the truest of friends. Clearly, we all know that sometimes dignity can go out the window when someone needs a laugh.
Sometimes is a simple as a hilarious birthday card that perfectly reflects the birthday girl, or making up a silly hand shake that eventually takes on a life of its own and takes 15 steps and makes you look incredibly foolish, or drinking rum out of Twizzler straws, or trying to light a Halloween costume on fire, or breaking out into spontaneous song and dance, or having silly catch phrases that are inside jokes that you never ever forget, or just sitting around the dinner table reminiscing. The lesson here is NOT to try and light things on fire for a laugh… It’s that it doesn’t take a special situation to have laughter… But it does require special people.
As you can tell from the glimpse you’ve had into Working Mommy's life… Life is ever-changing and sometimes it happens in the blink of an eye. But there are always constants in your life… And laughter should definitely be one of them. Life’s not always fun and games but it’s certainly nice to know that even when life is tough… A good laugh is just a phone call away. And a good laugh with a special friend is a great reminder that everything is going to be okay.
There’s a very place in my heart that holds all those hilarious memories if I ever need them to get me through because SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO LAUGH.
Hopefully I'll be making more appearances. Until then... XOXO
-The Brunette
P.S. I should clarify one thing… It wasn’t milk that came out of my nose… It was tea...and sprinkles - don't ask. And the swallow your tongue snorting laugh happens often. Get Working Mommy and me together and there’s bound to be tea or milk or snot flying everywhere ;-)
Note: The addition of guest bloggers (probably one a month) has made me re-evaluate the name of my blog and decide to change the name to simply, "Lessons Learned."
Saturday, October 24
Tuesday, October 20
Lesson #7 - Religion (In Some Form) IS Worth The Fuss
My mother is Japanese and was raised Buddhist. My father is Armenian and was just raised. After figuring out that they couldn't have children on their own, my parents turned to prayer...i.e. the big G-man. Fast forward quite a bit and you get me. Once my adoption went through, my mom was so happy that she decided to start going to church on a regular basis. That being said, I'm sure you must have figured out that I was baptized as baby. If not, I just told you.
When the babe was born, my mom asked right away when the Baptism was going to be held. You have got to be kidding me...I just gave birth and finally made it home one piece...please let me relax. Well, I definitely did not get in as much relaxation time as I had hoped (the babe's fault, not my mother) so it shouldn't surprise you that I didn't contact our Parish until 2 months later in a panic. "Hello. I am calling to leave a message for the Director of Christian Education. I would like to set up a Baptism for my daughter and it would ideal if that could happen in the next month or so. Please give me a call back at your earliest convenience to discuss this important matter. Thank you very much and have a great day." I can only imagine that when the receptionist got this message she thought my poor babe was dying or something. That was apparently not true because I didn't get a call back until weeks later.
After giving the woman a detailed family history, a lock of hair and a vial of blood she announced that our daughter was scheduled for the October 18th Baptism during the 11am Mass...HORRAY!! Finally, I felt as though I could cross one thing off of my EXTREMELY long "to-do" list. Alas, I neglected the fact that the Church woman had yet to get off the phone with me and was saying things like, "preparatory class" and "selection of god parents"...oh good grief! I never thought getting the babe baptized was going to be so in-depth. It wasn't the class I was worried about, but the selection of god parents. I mean, the man and I are the babe's parents - biological, emotional, physical, etc - but she needed spiritual parents. These folks (the church specified one man and one woman - not 2 of either) would be the ones to guide her when the man and I couldn't. They would talk to her about the inner workings of the church and why Sunday school and Mass were important to her development. I equated these lucky couple to be her "surrogate" parents...her moral compass...because Lord knows the man and I are not even fit to be our own moral compasses - let alone one for the babe.
Selecting a god mother wasn't going to be difficult. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall a discussion in high school between myself and the brunette about her being the god mother to my future child(ren). Proposing that idea to her was cake - and she, of course, accepted. Now, while I do have a lot of male friends, I don't have many who are Catholic...at least none who are close enough that I would entrust the babe's spiritual future to. Narrow that search down to those who live a manageable distance from the tri-county area and that list goes down to...well, none. I grappled with this decision for many days (read: hours...okay, minutes) and finally, I abandoned the search.
"I just don't think we have any good, moral, Catholic, male friends to choose from," I told my husband. "I thought only one of them has to be Catholic. Isn't (the brunette) Catholic? She fills that requirement, so why don't we pick (the mechanic)?" Okay, I admit, he was correct. Hear that honey?! Only one of the babe's god parents had to be Catholic (and provide papers for proof) so we had more latitude with the next choice. "The mechanic," I said, "really?" The mechanic was one of the man's groomsmen at the wedding...and he didn't show up to the rehearsal until AFTER it had already taken place. Ugh. I knew this was going to come back to bit us (read: me) but after a short protest, I agreed. The man called the mechanic and all was set. He knew where to be, when to be there, why he had to be there, what the ceremony represented and how to dress. The man even called the week before, then the night before, as a reminder. I thought all of our bases were covered - alas, I was mistaken.
The day of the event comes and minutes before Mass was about to begin, still no mechanic. Damnnit. I knew this would happen. Called his cell. No answer.
ITOLDYOUHEWASNTAGOODCHOCIEANDWESHOULDHAVEJUSTLEFTTHEGODFATHEROPTIONBLANK!
Thankfully, we were able to pull off a Hail Mary play in the final seconds. One of the man's co-workers was in attendance and was chosen at the last minute to be the babe's new god father. I didn't mind having the god father step in...as a matter of fact, he should have been the original choice, though I don't think he would have agreed under normal circumstances. In the end it all worked out. The babe has both a god mother AND a god father. My sanity is now a little more intact. All is right in the world. In case anyone is wondering, the mechanic DID finally show up...approximately 5 hours AFTER the baptism! He was promised the honored title for our next child...though I think the man and I might have to have a talk about that one.
When the babe was born, my mom asked right away when the Baptism was going to be held. You have got to be kidding me...I just gave birth and finally made it home one piece...please let me relax. Well, I definitely did not get in as much relaxation time as I had hoped (the babe's fault, not my mother) so it shouldn't surprise you that I didn't contact our Parish until 2 months later in a panic. "Hello. I am calling to leave a message for the Director of Christian Education. I would like to set up a Baptism for my daughter and it would ideal if that could happen in the next month or so. Please give me a call back at your earliest convenience to discuss this important matter. Thank you very much and have a great day." I can only imagine that when the receptionist got this message she thought my poor babe was dying or something. That was apparently not true because I didn't get a call back until weeks later.
After giving the woman a detailed family history, a lock of hair and a vial of blood she announced that our daughter was scheduled for the October 18th Baptism during the 11am Mass...HORRAY!! Finally, I felt as though I could cross one thing off of my EXTREMELY long "to-do" list. Alas, I neglected the fact that the Church woman had yet to get off the phone with me and was saying things like, "preparatory class" and "selection of god parents"...oh good grief! I never thought getting the babe baptized was going to be so in-depth. It wasn't the class I was worried about, but the selection of god parents. I mean, the man and I are the babe's parents - biological, emotional, physical, etc - but she needed spiritual parents. These folks (the church specified one man and one woman - not 2 of either) would be the ones to guide her when the man and I couldn't. They would talk to her about the inner workings of the church and why Sunday school and Mass were important to her development. I equated these lucky couple to be her "surrogate" parents...her moral compass...because Lord knows the man and I are not even fit to be our own moral compasses - let alone one for the babe.
Selecting a god mother wasn't going to be difficult. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall a discussion in high school between myself and the brunette about her being the god mother to my future child(ren). Proposing that idea to her was cake - and she, of course, accepted. Now, while I do have a lot of male friends, I don't have many who are Catholic...at least none who are close enough that I would entrust the babe's spiritual future to. Narrow that search down to those who live a manageable distance from the tri-county area and that list goes down to...well, none. I grappled with this decision for many days (read: hours...okay, minutes) and finally, I abandoned the search.
"I just don't think we have any good, moral, Catholic, male friends to choose from," I told my husband. "I thought only one of them has to be Catholic. Isn't (the brunette) Catholic? She fills that requirement, so why don't we pick (the mechanic)?" Okay, I admit, he was correct. Hear that honey?! Only one of the babe's god parents had to be Catholic (and provide papers for proof) so we had more latitude with the next choice. "The mechanic," I said, "really?" The mechanic was one of the man's groomsmen at the wedding...and he didn't show up to the rehearsal until AFTER it had already taken place. Ugh. I knew this was going to come back to bit us (read: me) but after a short protest, I agreed. The man called the mechanic and all was set. He knew where to be, when to be there, why he had to be there, what the ceremony represented and how to dress. The man even called the week before, then the night before, as a reminder. I thought all of our bases were covered - alas, I was mistaken.
The day of the event comes and minutes before Mass was about to begin, still no mechanic. Damnnit. I knew this would happen. Called his cell. No answer.
ITOLDYOUHEWASNTAGOODCHOCIEANDWESHOULDHAVEJUSTLEFTTHEGODFATHEROPTIONBLANK!
Thankfully, we were able to pull off a Hail Mary play in the final seconds. One of the man's co-workers was in attendance and was chosen at the last minute to be the babe's new god father. I didn't mind having the god father step in...as a matter of fact, he should have been the original choice, though I don't think he would have agreed under normal circumstances. In the end it all worked out. The babe has both a god mother AND a god father. My sanity is now a little more intact. All is right in the world. In case anyone is wondering, the mechanic DID finally show up...approximately 5 hours AFTER the baptism! He was promised the honored title for our next child...though I think the man and I might have to have a talk about that one.
Labels:
baptism,
church,
god parent,
the babe,
the brunette,
the mechanic
Friday, October 16
Lesson #6 - You WILL Long For Nights With No Plans
There was a time in my life - in the not-so-distant past - when I longed to do something EVERY. SINGLE. MINUTE. I always had to be on the move...didn't have time to stop and think. My life was a blur of comings and goings...parties and bars and clubs. That was, after all, the definition of fun...wasn't it?? Call it adulthood...or call it child-birth...but my definition of "fun" has made a complete 180 degree turn. Now, all I want to do is sit at home and spend time with the two people in my life that matter the most (immediate family matters, definitely...but these two are my main squeezes) - the man and the babe.
Instead of dressing in skimpy clothes - on purpose - to dance the night away at some bar in the city...my idea of a great Friday night consists of dancing around the bedroom in my underwear to a country song in order to keep the babe from being fussy. It is quite amazing how quickly one's outlook on life can change just by looking into a child's eyes. Not just any child, either, but your own child. The babe has a way of making me want to pull all of my hair out - and making me want to cuddle with her all at the same time.
She is one of the best things that has ever happened to me - next to meeting the man - and I can't imagine my life without her!!
Instead of dressing in skimpy clothes - on purpose - to dance the night away at some bar in the city...my idea of a great Friday night consists of dancing around the bedroom in my underwear to a country song in order to keep the babe from being fussy. It is quite amazing how quickly one's outlook on life can change just by looking into a child's eyes. Not just any child, either, but your own child. The babe has a way of making me want to pull all of my hair out - and making me want to cuddle with her all at the same time.
She is one of the best things that has ever happened to me - next to meeting the man - and I can't imagine my life without her!!
Tuesday, October 13
Lesson #5 - The Word "Adoption' Is Too Big For Small Minds
I have always known, from the time I could talk, that I was adopted. I mean, it was a little hard to hide since my parents look VERY different from myself. My parents always told me that they didn't choose me, but that I chose them - which, to a preschooler is pretty darn cool. The one thing my parents didn't tell me, either because they wanted to shield me or due to their own naivety, was that the word "adoption" is not taught to everyone. It is difficult for a 4-year-old to understand that while her family is normal - to her - it is very ABnormal to everyone else. Well, school was going to teach me that lesson the hard way.
When I think about the times that I tried to explain my home situation, my mind goes back to elementary and middle schools. My first day of Kindergarten does not stand out in my head...the day I was made fun of for being adopted, does. I was on the playground with a hop-scotch group when one of the girls asked why my mommy an daddy looked different than me. With excitement I began to explain how my family-unit came to be...yet, as soon as I mentioned "adoption" everyone froze. Try as I might, my abilities to explain the word just didn't suffice. I got confused looks, befuddled comments and some even ignored me. Soon enough we all forgot and went about our business. That day went by like any other day at school. I finished my game during recess, sang during music, colored during art and got on the bus to go home.
The next day was quite a different story. I found myself back outside at recess, with my same play group, playing hop-scotch after lunch. The tone, however, was quite different than from the day before. Suddenly, one girl (whom I thought was a dear friend, but what did I know at 4-years old?!) looked at me and said, "Your mommy and daddy aren't your real parents." I'm sorry, what?! What do you MEAN they aren't my real parents?! They take care of me, feed me when I'm hungry, comfort me when I cry, fix my bo-bo's when I get hurt...isn't that what real parents do?? The concept of my parents not REALLY being my parents was very foreign to me. The girl then proceeds to say, "Your real mommy and daddy didn't love you...so they decided to give you up to another mommy and daddy." WHOA!!! I had never thought of it like that before. Thoughts were swirling through my head - thoughts that I had never thought before. The hop-scotch game quickly ended when the girl said, "Ha-ha...you're parents don't love you," and then threw a rock at me.
That night, with tears in my eyes, I went to my parents to inquire as to whether or not they loved me. My parents were, of course, taken aback by my questions and asked where they were coming from. I told them about my experience at school and explained what the girl in my class had said to me. My mom began crying. I'm sure she knew the topic would come up at some point, but I don't think she was quite ready to explain it to my 5-year-old mind.
She started by saying that she and my father loved me very much. In fact, they loved me even MORE because they thought of me as a gift from God. She explained that, for one reason or another, she and my father couldn't have a baby together. While my parents were trying to have a baby, they went to many doctor visits to figure out why they weren't having children. Then, one day, a good friend went to my parents and said that she knew of a woman who had gotten pregnant by accident. This woman didn't have the means or resources to take care of a child, but she didn't want to get rid of it. Finding a happy home for her child was her only option - and she choose my parents. It all made sense after my mom explained everything and I was glad that .
I saw my family with new eyes after that night. I know it sounds heavy and, for a 5-year-old, it really was deeper than any Kindergartener should have to understand. The next day at school, when that mean little girl came up to me at recess, I was able to look her in the face and say - with confidence - that my mommy and daddy probably loved me MORE than her mommy and daddy loved her. Now, I know that probably wasn't true, but it sounded good as it came out of my mouth. Seeing her run away crying also instilled a sense of "gotcha." From that point on, I had the whole story to tell - just in case any OTHER kid wanted to tell me that my mommy and daddy didn't love me...to the contrary, they loved me more than words could describe.
When I think about the times that I tried to explain my home situation, my mind goes back to elementary and middle schools. My first day of Kindergarten does not stand out in my head...the day I was made fun of for being adopted, does. I was on the playground with a hop-scotch group when one of the girls asked why my mommy an daddy looked different than me. With excitement I began to explain how my family-unit came to be...yet, as soon as I mentioned "adoption" everyone froze. Try as I might, my abilities to explain the word just didn't suffice. I got confused looks, befuddled comments and some even ignored me. Soon enough we all forgot and went about our business. That day went by like any other day at school. I finished my game during recess, sang during music, colored during art and got on the bus to go home.
The next day was quite a different story. I found myself back outside at recess, with my same play group, playing hop-scotch after lunch. The tone, however, was quite different than from the day before. Suddenly, one girl (whom I thought was a dear friend, but what did I know at 4-years old?!) looked at me and said, "Your mommy and daddy aren't your real parents." I'm sorry, what?! What do you MEAN they aren't my real parents?! They take care of me, feed me when I'm hungry, comfort me when I cry, fix my bo-bo's when I get hurt...isn't that what real parents do?? The concept of my parents not REALLY being my parents was very foreign to me. The girl then proceeds to say, "Your real mommy and daddy didn't love you...so they decided to give you up to another mommy and daddy." WHOA!!! I had never thought of it like that before. Thoughts were swirling through my head - thoughts that I had never thought before. The hop-scotch game quickly ended when the girl said, "Ha-ha...you're parents don't love you," and then threw a rock at me.
That night, with tears in my eyes, I went to my parents to inquire as to whether or not they loved me. My parents were, of course, taken aback by my questions and asked where they were coming from. I told them about my experience at school and explained what the girl in my class had said to me. My mom began crying. I'm sure she knew the topic would come up at some point, but I don't think she was quite ready to explain it to my 5-year-old mind.
She started by saying that she and my father loved me very much. In fact, they loved me even MORE because they thought of me as a gift from God. She explained that, for one reason or another, she and my father couldn't have a baby together. While my parents were trying to have a baby, they went to many doctor visits to figure out why they weren't having children. Then, one day, a good friend went to my parents and said that she knew of a woman who had gotten pregnant by accident. This woman didn't have the means or resources to take care of a child, but she didn't want to get rid of it. Finding a happy home for her child was her only option - and she choose my parents. It all made sense after my mom explained everything and I was glad that .
I saw my family with new eyes after that night. I know it sounds heavy and, for a 5-year-old, it really was deeper than any Kindergartener should have to understand. The next day at school, when that mean little girl came up to me at recess, I was able to look her in the face and say - with confidence - that my mommy and daddy probably loved me MORE than her mommy and daddy loved her. Now, I know that probably wasn't true, but it sounded good as it came out of my mouth. Seeing her run away crying also instilled a sense of "gotcha." From that point on, I had the whole story to tell - just in case any OTHER kid wanted to tell me that my mommy and daddy didn't love me...to the contrary, they loved me more than words could describe.
Saturday, October 10
Lesson #4 - Weddings (In Any Form) Are NOT For The Faint Of Heart
Let me first start by clarifying something. By "in any form" I do mean any form. This includes (but is not limited to) the; engagement before, planning of, contacting of vendors for, paying for, being in, or attending of a wedding. When you really stop and think about ALL of the aspects involved - it is mind-boggling, I promise. Consider, for a minute, these fascinating - and (mostly) true - statistics...as compared to those of the man and myself:
* The average engagement lasts 15 months in the US (ours was 3 months)
* An average couple will use 16 different vendors (we used 8)
* The most popular wedding month is June (ours was in January)
* A traditional American wedding costs about $22k (we spent about $10k)
* 99% of newlyweds choose to go on a honeymoon (we did not)
I say mostly true statistics for a number of reasons...the biggest being that wedding vendors don't like to divulge how much they ACTUALLY charge for their services. There are a lot of vendors - like photographers, videographers and tuxedo rentals (like Men's Warehouse) - who charge a set prices for the products or services they provide. There are even more vendors - like florists, reception locations and dress suppliers (like David's Bridal) - who charge a variable price. That is really what makes the planning of, contacting vendors for and paying for a wedding so stressful. The cost of flowers, for instance, varies from a $.30 per stem rose to a $5 per stem hydrangea and beyond.
The above statements only account for the stresses of the couple - and any other willing party helping to pay for the event. We then have those brave (or misdirected) souls who agree to be a part of the bridal party. Call them best friends, call them family, by golly you can even call them crazy, but don't - under any circumstance - call them sober. I'm not quite sure what it is about a rented tuxedo or a teal blue taffeta dress that SCREAMS "I need to be drunk"...ok, maybe I can see the connection, but it has happened at every wedding I have ever been to - the wedding of the man and myself was no exception.
One of the best men (they were all best men and maids/matrons of honor so we didn't have to choose a favorite) was selected by popular vote - really, he was forced by the other best men - to give a speech. Well, lets just say that he isn't much of a public speaker and alcohol really leaves something to be desired. While I'm sure it helped him get over his fear of crowds, the bulk of his speech consisted of, "I love you guys" and "I really love you guys." The rest of the drunken debauchery - people being flipped off their beds mid-sleep and paintings being knocked off walls - happened within the walls of individual hotel rooms...thank goodness! I'm sure, though, that when making reservations at another Marriott at any point in the future, the operator will hesitate a minute to read the note on my rewards account, "Beware - This rewards member has been known to associate with the following "unsavory" individuals: a minister who, in a drunken fit, added over $2k in damages to his final hotel bill; grown men who, in a semi-conscious state, were caught canoodling in the hotel lobby; and other various trouble-makers."
In all honesty, our wedding was peanuts compared to one I attended a few years back - strictly as a guest. I didn't even know the couple, but I went with a friend. The wedding was interesting from the beginning. The actual ceremony was held in the same space as the reception. While this isn't usually a problem, it becomes a problem when the table I am sitting at during your nuptials magically transforms by my turning 90 degrees to eat. It is boring and unimaginative...and I dislike it...a lot!! Besides that, the ceremony was beautiful...the couple wrote their own vows...parents and grandparents cried. Little did they know what was soon to come!!!
The groom's brother, who was the best man, also had claim to the aforementioned public speaking phobia. By the end of the ceremony it seemed as though he went from sober to completely, utterly, drop-your-pants-and-boxers-to-run-around-the-reception-hall wasted about as quickly as I can go from giggling to get-the-hell-out-of-my-way-if-you-want-to-live-to-see-your-next-birthday pissed during my happy time of the month. The entire shin-dig-turned into a train wreck in the blink of an eye...and I was happy to watch the pieces fall apart.
About the middle of the reception, the DJ gets on the mic and says, "it has come time for the groom's attendants to leave the room to get ready for their surprise" - oh lord!! Surprise, now, here, tonight?!?! Don't mind if I do...have any popcorn?? This, I knew, was going to be the BEST time for popcorn. Once the guys had left, the DJ then continued by asking for the bride's attendants to each get a chair and congregate in the center of the dance floor. At this point I just KNEW whatever was coming next was going to be good!! The bride's attendants then brought their significant others onto the dance floor and each one (the men) sat in a chair. Not more than 30 seconds after the guys sat down, the DJ started playing some raunchy go-go song. The guys who were, at this point, thinking "hell yeah...I'm gonna get a lap dance from my girl" soon changed their tune when the groom's attendants came into the room...wearing the worst looking clubbing clothes I have ever seen in my life. I can't even begin to describe the picture in enough detail to really convey what I saw - mostly because months of therapy has forced those pictures out of my mind. Lets just say that grandma almost had a heart attack.
When it came time for his speech, the best man couldn't even see straight! He was holding a bottle of Jack - with his name on it - in one hand and the mic in his other hand. I'm not sure if he didn't prepare a speech or if he just forgot what he was going to say...either way, no one could understand a damn word he was saying. Another groomsman walked up to the best man with some words written on a napkin...but he couldn't get through that either. So, reluctantly, the best man relegated his mic duties to the groomsman, who finished the speech for him. The best man then stormed out of the room slurring something and waiving his Jack bottle around his head like a lasso - thank goodness the cap was on.
Thankfully it soon came time to leave. My date wanted to say goodbye to the bride, since he was a friend from her side, so we scoured the hall for her. Wouldn't you know it - we found her at the bar!! After he hugged her and said his goodbyes, I just had to chime in...I couldn't help it!! I asked, with the most innocent face I could muster, "I loved that skit the guys did...was that something they came up with and what did they have to do to get you to agree to it?" Much to my dismay, her response was, "I'm so glad you liked it!!! It was MY idea!!" OH. DEAR. GOD!!!!
So, the lesson within the lesson is - it could ALWAYS be worse.
* The average engagement lasts 15 months in the US (ours was 3 months)
* An average couple will use 16 different vendors (we used 8)
* The most popular wedding month is June (ours was in January)
* A traditional American wedding costs about $22k (we spent about $10k)
* 99% of newlyweds choose to go on a honeymoon (we did not)
I say mostly true statistics for a number of reasons...the biggest being that wedding vendors don't like to divulge how much they ACTUALLY charge for their services. There are a lot of vendors - like photographers, videographers and tuxedo rentals (like Men's Warehouse) - who charge a set prices for the products or services they provide. There are even more vendors - like florists, reception locations and dress suppliers (like David's Bridal) - who charge a variable price. That is really what makes the planning of, contacting vendors for and paying for a wedding so stressful. The cost of flowers, for instance, varies from a $.30 per stem rose to a $5 per stem hydrangea and beyond.
The above statements only account for the stresses of the couple - and any other willing party helping to pay for the event. We then have those brave (or misdirected) souls who agree to be a part of the bridal party. Call them best friends, call them family, by golly you can even call them crazy, but don't - under any circumstance - call them sober. I'm not quite sure what it is about a rented tuxedo or a teal blue taffeta dress that SCREAMS "I need to be drunk"...ok, maybe I can see the connection, but it has happened at every wedding I have ever been to - the wedding of the man and myself was no exception.
One of the best men (they were all best men and maids/matrons of honor so we didn't have to choose a favorite) was selected by popular vote - really, he was forced by the other best men - to give a speech. Well, lets just say that he isn't much of a public speaker and alcohol really leaves something to be desired. While I'm sure it helped him get over his fear of crowds, the bulk of his speech consisted of, "I love you guys" and "I really love you guys." The rest of the drunken debauchery - people being flipped off their beds mid-sleep and paintings being knocked off walls - happened within the walls of individual hotel rooms...thank goodness! I'm sure, though, that when making reservations at another Marriott at any point in the future, the operator will hesitate a minute to read the note on my rewards account, "Beware - This rewards member has been known to associate with the following "unsavory" individuals: a minister who, in a drunken fit, added over $2k in damages to his final hotel bill; grown men who, in a semi-conscious state, were caught canoodling in the hotel lobby; and other various trouble-makers."
In all honesty, our wedding was peanuts compared to one I attended a few years back - strictly as a guest. I didn't even know the couple, but I went with a friend. The wedding was interesting from the beginning. The actual ceremony was held in the same space as the reception. While this isn't usually a problem, it becomes a problem when the table I am sitting at during your nuptials magically transforms by my turning 90 degrees to eat. It is boring and unimaginative...and I dislike it...a lot!! Besides that, the ceremony was beautiful...the couple wrote their own vows...parents and grandparents cried. Little did they know what was soon to come!!!
The groom's brother, who was the best man, also had claim to the aforementioned public speaking phobia. By the end of the ceremony it seemed as though he went from sober to completely, utterly, drop-your-pants-and-boxers-to-run-around-the-reception-hall wasted about as quickly as I can go from giggling to get-the-hell-out-of-my-way-if-you-want-to-live-to-see-your-next-birthday pissed during my happy time of the month. The entire shin-dig-turned into a train wreck in the blink of an eye...and I was happy to watch the pieces fall apart.
About the middle of the reception, the DJ gets on the mic and says, "it has come time for the groom's attendants to leave the room to get ready for their surprise" - oh lord!! Surprise, now, here, tonight?!?! Don't mind if I do...have any popcorn?? This, I knew, was going to be the BEST time for popcorn. Once the guys had left, the DJ then continued by asking for the bride's attendants to each get a chair and congregate in the center of the dance floor. At this point I just KNEW whatever was coming next was going to be good!! The bride's attendants then brought their significant others onto the dance floor and each one (the men) sat in a chair. Not more than 30 seconds after the guys sat down, the DJ started playing some raunchy go-go song. The guys who were, at this point, thinking "hell yeah...I'm gonna get a lap dance from my girl" soon changed their tune when the groom's attendants came into the room...wearing the worst looking clubbing clothes I have ever seen in my life. I can't even begin to describe the picture in enough detail to really convey what I saw - mostly because months of therapy has forced those pictures out of my mind. Lets just say that grandma almost had a heart attack.
When it came time for his speech, the best man couldn't even see straight! He was holding a bottle of Jack - with his name on it - in one hand and the mic in his other hand. I'm not sure if he didn't prepare a speech or if he just forgot what he was going to say...either way, no one could understand a damn word he was saying. Another groomsman walked up to the best man with some words written on a napkin...but he couldn't get through that either. So, reluctantly, the best man relegated his mic duties to the groomsman, who finished the speech for him. The best man then stormed out of the room slurring something and waiving his Jack bottle around his head like a lasso - thank goodness the cap was on.
Thankfully it soon came time to leave. My date wanted to say goodbye to the bride, since he was a friend from her side, so we scoured the hall for her. Wouldn't you know it - we found her at the bar!! After he hugged her and said his goodbyes, I just had to chime in...I couldn't help it!! I asked, with the most innocent face I could muster, "I loved that skit the guys did...was that something they came up with and what did they have to do to get you to agree to it?" Much to my dismay, her response was, "I'm so glad you liked it!!! It was MY idea!!" OH. DEAR. GOD!!!!
So, the lesson within the lesson is - it could ALWAYS be worse.
Labels:
dating,
engagement,
florist,
husband,
newlywed,
photographer,
relationship,
wedding,
wife
Thursday, October 8
Lesson #3 - Pregnancy Does Not Require Immediate Attention AND It Is A "Pre-Existing Condition"
Oh baby...LITERALLY! Now, before you get distressed by the title...don't!! As with everything, there are pros AND cons. Pregnancy should really be considered another full-time job. After I found out that I was pregnant, 10 home tests later, I called my ob/gyn for an appointment (apparently I felt that a nurse doing a pregnancy test would be far more accurate than the 10 I took at work). So, I got on the phone with the receptionist at the ob/gyn office - whom I had just seen for my yearly appointment a few weeks prior. She sounded a little shocked on the phone - and who can blame her?! My doc's wonderful receptionist was able to fit me in for an appointment - in 5 weeks!!! I'm sorry, but 5 weeks?!?! Apparently my pregnancy isn't considered something that needs immediate attention.
Well, five weeks came and went and finally it was the morning of my appointment. Them man and I walked into the office - part excited, part concerned - and I proceeded to sign-in. The receptionist opened the window, looked at me and said, "Didn't we just see you a few weeks ago?" I wanted so badly to bark back, "No, it was almost 2 months ago because apparently my being pregnant isn't a matter that needs to be confirmed right away." Alas, I held back and just laughed quietly to myself.
When my name was called, I walked back to meet my fate. The bubbly nurse was almost too bubbly...and honestly, I wanted to punch her in the face. Again, I felt it necessary to keep that to myself so - against my better judgment - I did just that. I was directed to pee in a cup and even though I told the nurse, a number of times, that I had already taken 10 home tests - she forced the cup on me anyways.
After getting my weight, blood pressure, I was whisked back to an exam room and told to put on the gown. On the way to the exam room, the nurse asked if the man wanted to come back as well. "Can he take my spot," I asked...unfortunately, her answer was no. The doctor finally came into the room and - surprise, surprise - the test was positive. A quick, and VERY intrusive, exam later and off we went. The man and I were equipped with a prescription for pre-natal vitamins, numerous supplements and the ever popular - first ultrasound!
Fast-forward a few weeks when I get the statement from my insurance company. The statement hadn't even fully loaded on my computer (I get them via email - how green of me!) before I was on the phone with my ob/gyn's office. As I was reviewing the document I noticed that the "patient responsibility" for my most recent ob/gyn appointment was an un-godly amount! I requested (read: demanded) to speak with a billing specialist to get this issue solved. "It looks like your claim was denied by insurance," the billing demon said to me. I asked how that could be since my insurance covers 100% of pregnancy costs (which is awesome compared to most plans). The demon said she wasn't sure what the mix-up was, but they did submit the paperwork correctly. After politely telling the demon that I would not be paying the bill at this time, I quickly got the insurance company on the phone to give them a piece of my mind. I spoke with a very pleasant insurance goddess whom I gave permission "to view my records" so that this misunderstanding could be cleared up. She opened my account and began to rattle off billing terms and words that were far beyond my wealth of knowledge on the matter. She confirmed that my insurance covers 100% and then decided she would transfer me to an insurance guru who would be better equipped to solve this misunderstanding. The guru took seconds to get on the line before saying that the reason my claim was denied is because my pregnancy was considered a "pre-existing condition**"...I'm sorry, did you say "pre-existing"?!?!
** The definition is as follows: a health condition (other than a pregnancy) or medical problem that was diagnosed or treated before enrollment in a new health plan or insurance policy.
Never mind the fact that my newest insurance policy began on June 1st, but I didn't get pregnant until November!! That is SOME pregnancy...and lord knows something should have been done about it by now!! The guru then informed me that the ob/gyn paper-pusher had filled out the form incorrectly. Wait a minute...I just spoke with the billing demon, who ensured me that the forms had been properly filled out on their end. Turns out - the demon misspoke. The paper-pusher had listed my pregnancy as a "secondary condition"...not sure how a pregnancy constitutes a "secondary" as opposed to a "primary" condition, but in her mind - it did.
So, back on the phone I was with the billing demon at the ob/gyn to sort out the paper-pusher's mistake. The billing demon finally (after 35 minutes on the phone) conceded to the paper-pusher's mistake and said the form would be filled out - correctly - and re-submitted to the insurance company. Finally, 2 weeks later, I got an updated insurance statement which reflected the company paying for my ob/gyn fees. Thank goodness!!
Well, five weeks came and went and finally it was the morning of my appointment. Them man and I walked into the office - part excited, part concerned - and I proceeded to sign-in. The receptionist opened the window, looked at me and said, "Didn't we just see you a few weeks ago?" I wanted so badly to bark back, "No, it was almost 2 months ago because apparently my being pregnant isn't a matter that needs to be confirmed right away." Alas, I held back and just laughed quietly to myself.
When my name was called, I walked back to meet my fate. The bubbly nurse was almost too bubbly...and honestly, I wanted to punch her in the face. Again, I felt it necessary to keep that to myself so - against my better judgment - I did just that. I was directed to pee in a cup and even though I told the nurse, a number of times, that I had already taken 10 home tests - she forced the cup on me anyways.
After getting my weight, blood pressure, I was whisked back to an exam room and told to put on the gown. On the way to the exam room, the nurse asked if the man wanted to come back as well. "Can he take my spot," I asked...unfortunately, her answer was no. The doctor finally came into the room and - surprise, surprise - the test was positive. A quick, and VERY intrusive, exam later and off we went. The man and I were equipped with a prescription for pre-natal vitamins, numerous supplements and the ever popular - first ultrasound!
Fast-forward a few weeks when I get the statement from my insurance company. The statement hadn't even fully loaded on my computer (I get them via email - how green of me!) before I was on the phone with my ob/gyn's office. As I was reviewing the document I noticed that the "patient responsibility" for my most recent ob/gyn appointment was an un-godly amount! I requested (read: demanded) to speak with a billing specialist to get this issue solved. "It looks like your claim was denied by insurance," the billing demon said to me. I asked how that could be since my insurance covers 100% of pregnancy costs (which is awesome compared to most plans). The demon said she wasn't sure what the mix-up was, but they did submit the paperwork correctly. After politely telling the demon that I would not be paying the bill at this time, I quickly got the insurance company on the phone to give them a piece of my mind. I spoke with a very pleasant insurance goddess whom I gave permission "to view my records" so that this misunderstanding could be cleared up. She opened my account and began to rattle off billing terms and words that were far beyond my wealth of knowledge on the matter. She confirmed that my insurance covers 100% and then decided she would transfer me to an insurance guru who would be better equipped to solve this misunderstanding. The guru took seconds to get on the line before saying that the reason my claim was denied is because my pregnancy was considered a "pre-existing condition**"...I'm sorry, did you say "pre-existing"?!?!
** The definition is as follows: a health condition (other than a pregnancy) or medical problem that was diagnosed or treated before enrollment in a new health plan or insurance policy.
Never mind the fact that my newest insurance policy began on June 1st, but I didn't get pregnant until November!! That is SOME pregnancy...and lord knows something should have been done about it by now!! The guru then informed me that the ob/gyn paper-pusher had filled out the form incorrectly. Wait a minute...I just spoke with the billing demon, who ensured me that the forms had been properly filled out on their end. Turns out - the demon misspoke. The paper-pusher had listed my pregnancy as a "secondary condition"...not sure how a pregnancy constitutes a "secondary" as opposed to a "primary" condition, but in her mind - it did.
So, back on the phone I was with the billing demon at the ob/gyn to sort out the paper-pusher's mistake. The billing demon finally (after 35 minutes on the phone) conceded to the paper-pusher's mistake and said the form would be filled out - correctly - and re-submitted to the insurance company. Finally, 2 weeks later, I got an updated insurance statement which reflected the company paying for my ob/gyn fees. Thank goodness!!
Tuesday, October 6
Lesson #2 - Parenthood WILL Sneak Up On You
I learned, on a Wednesday, that my dreams of motherhood were coming to fruition FAR sooner than I had ever imagined possible. I will remember that day for eternity. The man and I had only known each other for about 6 weeks...he had just come back to town from a business trip...the following day was his birthday - the big 3-0. That night we were laying on the couch talking when he happened to mention the fact that my monthly mood swings weren't as pronounced that month (I was sure to warn him beforehand, since things tend to get a little violent if not dealt with carefully). I responded, with certainty, that he shouldn't worry and things don't always occur according to the same clock. He joked and asked if I was pregnant...we both laughed. Inside, I was sure that being a few days late wasn't anything to be alarmed about...this wasn't the first time it had happened.
The next day (if you're following, this is the man's birthday) at work was like any other. Get in...check email...write a to-do list...sit at desk and type away on keyboard. Around lunch I began to wonder if the man's thoughts had any merit. I decided to make a trip to the local drug store - just to be sure. A co-worker of mine agreed to make the short walk with me. While there I decided it was probably best to get a few different test brands, on the off chance that I didn't like the results I was given. The clerk rang up my 12 tests and off I went back to the office.
I am fully aware that false positives happen. My hope was that, by some strange force, the 10 tests I had taken would have all been false positives. Yes, you read correctly...10 tests. I took 1 test every 20 minutes for almost 3 hours straight. After number 10, I decided that the tests couldn't be wrong. Not wanting to give the man any unnecessary stress at work, I decided to call my best friend.
My best friend, whom I love dearly, is not the kind of person who deals well with crying. Granted, she is a girl, but she isn't your average chickie....which is why I love her so much! Ok, anyways, I call my girl - in tears of disbelief - to tell her my story. Of course she knew of the man and how great our relationship was going...but this was definitely a shock for her as well. After a few minutes on the phone, we got off because we were both at work and, in all seriousness, she just wasn't prepared for all the crying.
After work, I went to pick up a cake for the man's birthday. Then I brought the cake home and waited...and waited...and waited...and cried...and waited!! The man finally got home from work and saw that I'd been crying. Let me add a sidebar that - at this time - the man did share his home with a roommate. In any case, we had a minute to sit down and talk...and that was when I broke the news.
Once the shock, disbelief and thoughts of, "is this really happening to us," we were thrilled about impending parenthood. The thrill wore off, not more than a few weeks later, and the feelings of shock and disbelief came back with a vengeance!!! A parent (noun) is one who begets, gives birth to, or nurtures and raises a child. While the man and I talked about having children in the future, we didn't exactly mean before getting engaged. I always said I wanted children (the more Republicans on this Earth, the better), but right now wasn't exactly what I had in mind.
Let us, for a minute, forget the fact that the man and I weren't engaged. Sure we had talked about getting married, but that wasn't for at least another year - assuming that things worked out in the first place. Let us also forget the fact that, honestly, we had JUST met not long ago. How could we bring another life into this world without really knowing each other first?! Well, we were about to find out...and that is where the babe's story began.
The next day (if you're following, this is the man's birthday) at work was like any other. Get in...check email...write a to-do list...sit at desk and type away on keyboard. Around lunch I began to wonder if the man's thoughts had any merit. I decided to make a trip to the local drug store - just to be sure. A co-worker of mine agreed to make the short walk with me. While there I decided it was probably best to get a few different test brands, on the off chance that I didn't like the results I was given. The clerk rang up my 12 tests and off I went back to the office.
I am fully aware that false positives happen. My hope was that, by some strange force, the 10 tests I had taken would have all been false positives. Yes, you read correctly...10 tests. I took 1 test every 20 minutes for almost 3 hours straight. After number 10, I decided that the tests couldn't be wrong. Not wanting to give the man any unnecessary stress at work, I decided to call my best friend.
My best friend, whom I love dearly, is not the kind of person who deals well with crying. Granted, she is a girl, but she isn't your average chickie....which is why I love her so much! Ok, anyways, I call my girl - in tears of disbelief - to tell her my story. Of course she knew of the man and how great our relationship was going...but this was definitely a shock for her as well. After a few minutes on the phone, we got off because we were both at work and, in all seriousness, she just wasn't prepared for all the crying.
After work, I went to pick up a cake for the man's birthday. Then I brought the cake home and waited...and waited...and waited...and cried...and waited!! The man finally got home from work and saw that I'd been crying. Let me add a sidebar that - at this time - the man did share his home with a roommate. In any case, we had a minute to sit down and talk...and that was when I broke the news.
Once the shock, disbelief and thoughts of, "is this really happening to us," we were thrilled about impending parenthood. The thrill wore off, not more than a few weeks later, and the feelings of shock and disbelief came back with a vengeance!!! A parent (noun) is one who begets, gives birth to, or nurtures and raises a child. While the man and I talked about having children in the future, we didn't exactly mean before getting engaged. I always said I wanted children (the more Republicans on this Earth, the better), but right now wasn't exactly what I had in mind.
Let us, for a minute, forget the fact that the man and I weren't engaged. Sure we had talked about getting married, but that wasn't for at least another year - assuming that things worked out in the first place. Let us also forget the fact that, honestly, we had JUST met not long ago. How could we bring another life into this world without really knowing each other first?! Well, we were about to find out...and that is where the babe's story began.
Monday, October 5
Lesson #1 - True Love WILL Find You (Eventually)
I have had my share of relationships...but the best, most rewarding, one I have ever had is one that I am still in - with my husband (know from here on out as "The Man"). He is loving, hysterical, genuine, great at cuddling and BEST of all - he is an excellent father. There are more qualities that make him fabulous, of course, but this is a blog - not a novel!!
The man and I met via online dating. Now, I know what you're thinking...and you shouldn't be thinking it!!! After my college years came and went, it was that much harder finding someone compatible with my lifestyle. I work a 9-5 job and sit in traffic for about 2 hours every day. While I do live in a major metro area, I have realized the whole bar/club scene is more for a hook-up and not finding a soul mate. When I get off work the only thing I am interested in is a quality conversation over a nice meal followed by cuddling on the couch. (Enter: Dating Site)
I had originally joined the world of online dating to meet as many people as I could - without having to go to bars or clubs. The plan worked to an extent. I met guys whose personalities definitely made it obvious as to why they were 35+ and still single. You know the type - self-involved, likes to hear himself talk, doesn't offer to pay for dinner (or even coffee!), drives the mid-life crisis car (even though he isn't anywhere CLOSE to mid-life) and his only relationship longer than a few months has been with his cat. Those were the dates that I wished came with a warning sign, "Proceed Only If Willing To Play Second Fiddle To Cat." Seriously?! Not even a dating site could help these guys!!
On the flip side of that, I also met quite a few great gentlemen. I say gentlemen and not guys because they truly embodied everything that a woman (at least me) would want. Conversations with him weren't like pulling teeth, his jokes were actually funny (imagine that!), he paid for dinner AND he even held the door. My husband definitely falls into this category...
Up to this point I was meeting for coffee or happy hour. I know it doesn't sound intimate, but dating is like a job interview - you don't get to meet the CEO on your first go-around. You have to sit and talk with the person who will be your direct boss to get all of those uncomfortable "where do you want to be in 5 years" type questions out of the way first. This is to make sure your goals are in line with the overall view of the world. Then you meet with the rest of the staff in your department for the "are you as crazy as we are" type questions. These are a little more important because you'll be dealing with these people on an everyday basis...so you want to make sure you get along. Only after those first two rounds are done do you get to sit in the big, plush chair for the "what is your favorite color" type questions with the Big Cheese. This is to make sure your personality is compatible with the rest of group.
For our first meeting, the man and I decided to get drinks at a local restaurant. The location was neutral (VERY important) and was good for a good conversation or a quick exit - whichever was necessary for this particular meeting. Turns out good conversation was an understatement!! Neither one of us thought that we would be meeting our soul mate that night, but that is exactly what happened!!
We talked (and talked, and talked) into the wee hours of the morning (literally). We talked about silly things, like our favorite activities as kids, and serious things, like politics and the economy. We both agreed, after only a few hours, that we were meant to be together and, if it had been feasible, we probably would have flown to Vegas for a wedding. Neither one of us wanted to go home, but with the next work day fast approaching we knew that good-bye was in order. We both agreed that we had found exactly what we had always been looking for - true love...
That is where our story began.
The man and I met via online dating. Now, I know what you're thinking...and you shouldn't be thinking it!!! After my college years came and went, it was that much harder finding someone compatible with my lifestyle. I work a 9-5 job and sit in traffic for about 2 hours every day. While I do live in a major metro area, I have realized the whole bar/club scene is more for a hook-up and not finding a soul mate. When I get off work the only thing I am interested in is a quality conversation over a nice meal followed by cuddling on the couch. (Enter: Dating Site)
I had originally joined the world of online dating to meet as many people as I could - without having to go to bars or clubs. The plan worked to an extent. I met guys whose personalities definitely made it obvious as to why they were 35+ and still single. You know the type - self-involved, likes to hear himself talk, doesn't offer to pay for dinner (or even coffee!), drives the mid-life crisis car (even though he isn't anywhere CLOSE to mid-life) and his only relationship longer than a few months has been with his cat. Those were the dates that I wished came with a warning sign, "Proceed Only If Willing To Play Second Fiddle To Cat." Seriously?! Not even a dating site could help these guys!!
On the flip side of that, I also met quite a few great gentlemen. I say gentlemen and not guys because they truly embodied everything that a woman (at least me) would want. Conversations with him weren't like pulling teeth, his jokes were actually funny (imagine that!), he paid for dinner AND he even held the door. My husband definitely falls into this category...
Up to this point I was meeting for coffee or happy hour. I know it doesn't sound intimate, but dating is like a job interview - you don't get to meet the CEO on your first go-around. You have to sit and talk with the person who will be your direct boss to get all of those uncomfortable "where do you want to be in 5 years" type questions out of the way first. This is to make sure your goals are in line with the overall view of the world. Then you meet with the rest of the staff in your department for the "are you as crazy as we are" type questions. These are a little more important because you'll be dealing with these people on an everyday basis...so you want to make sure you get along. Only after those first two rounds are done do you get to sit in the big, plush chair for the "what is your favorite color" type questions with the Big Cheese. This is to make sure your personality is compatible with the rest of group.
For our first meeting, the man and I decided to get drinks at a local restaurant. The location was neutral (VERY important) and was good for a good conversation or a quick exit - whichever was necessary for this particular meeting. Turns out good conversation was an understatement!! Neither one of us thought that we would be meeting our soul mate that night, but that is exactly what happened!!
We talked (and talked, and talked) into the wee hours of the morning (literally). We talked about silly things, like our favorite activities as kids, and serious things, like politics and the economy. We both agreed, after only a few hours, that we were meant to be together and, if it had been feasible, we probably would have flown to Vegas for a wedding. Neither one of us wanted to go home, but with the next work day fast approaching we knew that good-bye was in order. We both agreed that we had found exactly what we had always been looking for - true love...
That is where our story began.
Labels:
compatible,
dating,
husband,
interview,
love,
online,
personality,
relationship,
soul mate,
wife
Friday, October 2
In the beginning...
I remember making one of these as a kid. Back then it was called a Journal - not a blog - and it came with a lock and key - not a free pass to all who wanted to read the contents. That little pink book with its pretty silver lock was a place I went often - to share my thoughts, my dreams and my goals. As a young child I would write about how mad I was at my parents. As I got older, I realized that writing about my goals and aspirations was a way of putting my future plans together. For one reason or another, I left my little pink book in the past - with my childhood.
I can definitely state with certainty that never have I thought I'd be spewing my personal life over the internet. However, here I am and there you are...one of us typing - one of us reading...both hoping to have some sort of epiphany about life, love, children, work, finances or anything else that may be of consequence. Now I am turning to the internet, to share my journey with you, in the hopes that my experiences will help someone else.
*Note: The lessons are not posted in the order which they were learned*
I can definitely state with certainty that never have I thought I'd be spewing my personal life over the internet. However, here I am and there you are...one of us typing - one of us reading...both hoping to have some sort of epiphany about life, love, children, work, finances or anything else that may be of consequence. Now I am turning to the internet, to share my journey with you, in the hopes that my experiences will help someone else.
*Note: The lessons are not posted in the order which they were learned*
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