Are We Flexible?

For anyone who is a little OCD, or Type A, the word *flexibility* can leave you feeling like a fish out of water. You can’t live without like your neat + orderly planner… color coded, of course!

But what happens when Life’s Oopsie Daisies knocks down your door? How do you react? Do you hold yourself together like the Queen of England, or do you react like Snooki after one too many drinks? I’m gonna take a guess here, and not judge you for throwing a few *F bombs* and weave-pulling when that color coded planner of yours needs a nice coat of White-Out.

But what’s the use in panicking, or throwing a fit Jersey Shore style? What’s that going to get you? A headache? More wrinkles? A Xanax?

I had one of those nights last night. All day I had been looking forward to my mother-in-law coming to watch Emmy in the late afternoon, so I could sneak away for a much needed pedicure. Teaching sixteen very chatty 3-4 year-olds ballet + tumbling had me exhausted, and nothing sounded quite better than sitting in a massage chair, getting my feet rubbed. Can I get an Amen?!

But, Life’s Oopsie Daisy knocked on my door. My MIL called to say that my FIL was having car troubles so she would have to take a rain-check on babysitting. Damn. Of course I felt disappointed since I had been looking forward to it all day and really needed it for my sanity but my in-law’s situation was much!more!important! than my toes.

Instead of crawling up into a ball, I called my mom to see if she could swing by after work… YES!

Problem solved, right?


My dad called to say that my mom got into a small fender-bender. Thank goodness she was perfectly fine {albeit pissed} and it was just a small dent, but she was waiting on the police to file a report.

All right, so no pedicure for me tonight. I may come across as a brat to some, but any momma knows, sometimes you just neeeed an hour {or two, or three, or…} to yourself. It makes you a better mother.

So instead of huffing + puffing about my plans changing, I decided to be flexible. If I couldn’t go out to get a pedicure, I’d just do one myself after the little bambino went to bed. Although not my original plan, or my ideal option, the problem was solved. I would have a fresh coat of polish on my tootsies, and my dignity–having kept my cool, unlike someone-with-a-monster-pouf 😉

But, the story’s not over quite yet, my friends…

The doorbell rings, and it’s my mother-in-law! With dinner! Ohh how I love her…
She was able to swing by and feed us, before heading on to other obligations.

Then to make things even better, my dad shows up! He said my mom was going to be late, but she was on her way….

Can you guess what happened next?

Yep. Pedicure Paradise, here I come!

After getting turned away from one place because the wait was too long, I soon found myself sinking into the massage chair; gyrating from the mechanical vibrations, and smiling all the while…

Gratitude doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about my family–pulling through for me, even with their own Life’s Oopsie Daisies.

I’m blessed.

**So how do you deal with Life’s Oopsie Daisies? Do you panic? Pull your weave out a-la-Jersey-Shore-style? Or are you calm, cool, and collected like the Queen?**


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Today I’m Featured On…

Chaunie over at Tiny Blue Lines just posted my interview on her site!
Chaunie is “a freelance writer, advocate and speaker for young women facing unplanned pregnancies, and most of all–full-time mom to two amazing little girls [& a boy on the way!] [She] also works as a nurse to pay the bills, but that’s a whole ‘nother story…”
I’m so grateful for the opportunity to contribute to her always honest and inspiring blog.
So what are you waiting for?!
Go! Check! It! Out! Now!
Right Here.
Or Here.
Or Here.
Then come back and tell me what you think!
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PPD + My First 5K

My journal entry from February 2, 2011


Written first-thing in the morning:
Affirmation of the day: I AM CAPABLE.
Today, I am staying home from the partial-hospitalization program to be with Emmy. My therapist suggested this so I can put my coping skills (and everything I’ve learned) to use. Then tomorrow, I can talk about it in group therapy.
I am feeling confident that this day will go well. I know what I need to do, and I can do it. I will persevere!
Written later that same day: 
I am feeling discouraged right now. 3-4pm seems to be the time of day that gets me down. It’s really frustrating. Right now, I feel like, “How can I do this everyday? Is this really my life? When will it all be over?” I know I’m not supposed to project predicaments into the future because I’m going to feel different then, than I do now, but I can’t help it. I don’t know what I need. 

I was doing so well this morning. 

But now? 

Now I feel very discouraged and incapable. 

It scares me because it’s not who I really am. 

It doesn’t make any sense. 

My dream was to be a stay-at-home-mom.  

So why is this happening to me?  

Why am I so miserable? 

This isn’t supposed to happen to me. 

I feel like I’m being punished.

– – – –

The latter is just an example of how mixed up my emotions could be. I felt like this e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y. for months. I’d wake up chipper and confident, then throughout the day I’d feel like my world was crumbling apart and I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. 
Over and over… again and again. It. Was. Exhausting!
I recently ran my first 5K. It’s the most I’ve ever ran my entire life. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to give up and walk. But I promised myself from the beginning that walking was not an option. I was going to run the whole damn thing! The race wasn’t a straight line. No, it would be too easy if you could see the finish line. Instead, the race took me through neighborhoods, downtown offices, and a lake–turning and swerving all the way. [Just ask my poor unsuspecting collar bone who got a nice jab from the elbow of a 6’5” man.]

& just like the race, Postpartum Depression took me through numerous turns and swerves. As soon as I was confident that my triumph was finally coming to an end, BAM! another curve would pop up.

Damnit… it’s not over yet. 

Okay, just a little bit more….

You can do it. 

Just keep breathing.

Keep moving.

Keep doing.

You’ll get there. 


Don’t walk. 

Don’t let yourself down. 

I imagined my husband in the sea of cheering people, running alongside me, shouting encouraging words: You can do it, Katie. You’re doing great, Sweetheart. You’re almost there. Just a little bit longer. Look! You can see the finish flags!

My husband was my #1 supporter and encourager during the toughest stretch of my life. Not a day went by where he didn’t tell me he believed in me–that I’m a wonderful mother. I was surrounded by many people who told me it would get better. And just like the race had to come to an end at some point, so did my postpartum depression.

I just had to keep moving, believing, and persevering.




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My Cherry Has a Butt!

1. My cherry has a butt! aka CFA’s banana pudding milkshakes are back in season! Oy! They’ll be the death of me.
2. Daddy came to music class. Hooray for Daddy’s day off!
3. The Mom Cave clutter. My newest project…. Organizing 101 {also the death of me}
4. Cousins park date. They love each other so much.
5. My New Bible. 1/2-way through and it’s ahhhmaziiing!
6. Springtime fun. Doll face. Just sayin’

7. Chocolate banana pound cake balls. Yes. {Insert.Drool.Here}
8. Bubbles & baby pools. Gotta love Florida weather!
9. Friday night golf. Just a little 9 holes with the hubs.
10. Pre-Easter egg huntin’ Practicing for the real deal.
11. Bye-Bye Winter! Glad to space bag our winter wear. Good ridden!
12. Cutie Patootie. The Easter Bunny Mimo & Papo put quarters in Emmy’s eggs! She was very particular about counting them for days.

I’d say April is off to a great start!


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Separation & Being a Married, Single Mom

There will come a time when my husband and I will have to be separated for an extended period of time; and for multiple reasons. Fourth year med school rotations require him to venture out to other hospitals in other states to get a better learning experience. 
And then there’s the Navy. (AKA: Separation Central.) 
Blake and I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide Hey! Wouldn’t it be fun to join the Navy?! Let’s get dressed and go sign the papers! It was something we discussed and prayed about together for over a year. And it’s something that Blake thought about long before we ever met. As much research and conversing you can do with men and women whom have gone through the military, you can never be totally prepared. Military or not, that’s just life.

The advice we’ve been given, and the stories we’ve heard are completely bipolar. 
One person can say:
It’s hell on wheels. My husband had such psychological problems that he would wet the bed… He was a completely different person… My kids hated moving from place to place… We ended up getting a divorce.
While another can say:
It was the greatest experience for our family… We got to see the world… My kids loved it!… Just don’t move them during their senior year of high school ::wink wink::
From Day One, Blake and I agreed we wouldn’t plan our lives based on other people’s stories. We would gladly welcome their opinions and suggestions, but we would never allow them to freak us out (or fill our heads with fantasies). I’m very much aware of the life we have chosen for ourselves. But I’ve also kind of put it out-of-sight-out-of-mind. I don’t want to be anxious leading up to the inevitable day he’ll leave. Through all of my PPD therapy, I have learned how to cope; how to handle stress. I’ll deal with it when I need to, but I don’t see the point in *worrying* ahead of time. Making sure everything is in place–yes. But dwelling on things–no!

I can’t tell you how I’m going to feel the first time Blake has to be away for 3-4 weeks for a hospital rotation, nor can I predict how I will feel the first time he is deployed for six months. (Or even how I’ll feel the second or third time…) All I know is: I know it’s inevitable. 
It’s the life we signed up for. 
From time to time, Blake and I talk about what we’re looking forward to, and what we’re afraid of throughout this journey. I always say I’m excited about traveling and moving to different climates and cultures. I’m a Native Floridian. I’ve never lived outside the Sunshine State. I’m ready to get out! Undoubtedly, I will miss my parents and in-laws tremendously, but you know what Pinterest says: Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. 

{& only living twenty minutes to two hours away from family is definitely my comfort zone.}
What am I afraid of? 
Getting used to him not being around.
I’m afraid that Emmy and I will develop “way-of-life” rituals; and when Blake comes home, it’ll throw off our whole *ebb and flow*. After all, I’m basically going to be what ‘they’ call a “Married, Single Mom.” I’m faithfully and legally married, but am a single mom. Trust me, I know how that sounds… selfish. I mean HE’S the one that will be away from US. Don’t get me wrong… I know it’ll be difficult for him, too. {But that’s a whole other post} I can be a very set-in-my-ways-kinda-gal. I like to do things a certain way, and my husband knows this. 
We’ve discussed the latter, and came to the conclusion that I’ll keep a diary of what is going on in our lives back home, and how I’m feeling. My husband and I are not phone people. When we talk on the phone, I can’t remember what is going on in my life for (er, well) the life of me! 
But by keeping a diary, I hope to hold myself accountable for expressing my feelings. That way, when Blake comes home, he can read the details of our happenings while he was away. We hope this will ease the transition better….
So I ask you fellow & seasoned military wives OR any wives out there who are “Married, Single Moms” if you have any advice for a *newbie* like me?
p.s. what do you think of the new blog set up? Still not finished, but I’m learning this on my own 😉 
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