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War on Conventional Methods?

As a quick side note, due to a hectic schedule, this post has sat in drafts for so long that it now feels irrelevant, but I worked hard on it, and I still feel passionately about it. I will post it, but I also respect that the nation is on fire right now, and that is the hot topic. I usually stay away from them, but this time, I am ready to share what has proven to be a very unpopular opinion. So read on, hit follow, and stay tuned for my thoughts on George Floyd.

I rarely engage in facebook comment wars. It is legitimately like arguing with banging your head against a brick wall. There are no winners, just headaches. However, as humans, sometimes we just cannot help ourselves.

The Photo That Started It All

I am very well aware that some people see this photo and choke back vomit. I used to be one of them. It is never fun, as a woman, to see a man above you, in front if you, and even beside you at times. The knee jerk reaction here is that hes superior. Then you factor in Christ and the whole thing goes down like a spoonful of peanut butter. 

As you can imagine the comment section was raging

Did we travel to the 1950s?

Uh no, never ever in my home.

Husband and Wife are equal!

God is a mythical being!

All the vomiters.

Guys, I get it. 100%. The point I tried to urge was simply to view it from a separate perspective. I’ve provided that perspective below and I really invite you guys to give me your thoughts.

I will forewarn you, I get a little preachy, with some stolen material from my pastor, at Pathway Church (check their website out here if you like the material, there are recorded messages and all kinds of fun stuff to look at). This explanation is what converted me from a vomiting protester of the image, to someone who sees it as something to aspire to, when life hands me a deck of cards that I can apply the above method of marriage to.

To spare you a sermon, I am not including specific bible verses. I also try not to do that because God Himself knows I am not a subject matter expert in that area. Even if I read the Bible cover to cover, I usually need someone to explain it to me in terms that I can understand, a couple times.. no shame here.. God already knows he made me somewhat slow to comprehend.

God the Father

We are all taught in the south that God is the one and only, he made everything, he so loved the world that he gave his one and only begotten son, etc. What my Baptist upbringing failed to really emphasize, though, is that God is first and foremost a Father. When you put the caps on it, it seems really formal. But seriously, He’s a dad. And if you didn’t have a great one to compare, just know He’s everything that guy was not. He is the hallmark channel Father. The dad from Taken? And His skills are not to be toyed with either.

Keeping that perspective, think about the Bible and the rules and guidelines laid out within it. While it can seem overwhelming and overbearing, is that not how we all felt about our parents at some point (again, if your parents sucked, dont compare, also message me and let’s talk about it because man that’s a hard hand of cards to get dealt)? While we 100% rebelled and pushed the envelope, as adults we can admit that our parents enforced their rules and standards because they loved us. They knew what was out in the world and what kind of hurt we were inevitably going to face, and they did their best to minimize the risk.

When God gives us directives in the Bible, He is being a dad. He wants us to be safe and loved and happy, and at our best so that we can fulfill our purpose and lead more people to him. Have you ever tried to help someone while everything inside you was breaking in two? I have. While it can be accomplished, it’s not my best work, and it thoroughly exhausts me, and I start to resent the person in need.

That is not the way God wants us to live. So he created a box. A box of safety. As fallen and sinful humans we dont want to be in a box.

And let me tell you a secret… God knows we are going to rebel. He knows we are going to fight it. He loves us anyway, in fact I really think He watches us with annoyed pride, thinking, “it’s so cute how they resist.”

But I also believe that chuckle and grin gives way to unresounding despair when we hurt. If you’re a parent, even though you told the kiddo not to touch the stove.. are you angry when they do? Or are you scared, hurt, and hating to see them hurt? It’s the exact same.

So. Let’s go back to this picture.

This is more or less directly taken from the Bible as the safety box God designed for our marriages. Key word: marriage. Don’t think American Fighter Adam is going to do right by you after dating a week and submit to him in this way. What many people fail to take into account are all all the other marriage directives given about choosing a partner.

The model above works beautifully when the positions are held by choice, except where kids are concerned.. because.. well, life ain’t fair, bud. I’ve witnessed this model in action, and I’ve never seen a stronger marriage. I’ve never seen a stronger or more confident woman/wife. Guys, i promise she is not cowered, making sammiches, and giving unrequited back rubs. She is a force of nature, a woman in full fulfilling the purpose she wants to fulfill, and being a damn rockstar while doing it.

The reason this setup fails is not design flaw. Its humanities flaw. Like I said, AF Adam? Not the same Adam from the Beginning, though I stay unsure of that guy. He was awful quick to throw Eve under the bus, deserved or otherwise. He was messy, and triflin’ (God my daughter is going to read this one day and send me a separate message each time I say things like that to ensure I realize how lame I was/am/will be.

Let’s Discuss via Other Viewpoints

Yall thought that Baptist took over huh? Thought I forgot about the nonbelievers because I cannot fathom such a person exists? Think again. My entire post is because I still dont understand why even a mon believer cannot acknowledge that peope can live in this structured relationship dynamic and be happy. This was my pointless argument. I would include screenshots, but i really try to keep the four letter words to a minimum here, especially in a post that I’ve capitalized He more than I’ve left it lowercase.

It would seem that feminism today means that you cannot under any circumstances understand or tolerate anything conventional. This does not just apply to modern feminism, but really to the entire culture America is shifting to, and guys, it is ruining the whole country. I am a feminist, but I am also traditional in the way I want to live my life and choose to follow tradition when life allows. I’m a woman with two kids, two different dads, that has never been married. That annoyed chuckle and head shake? Pretty much God’s default “Jess” expression. I’ve tried to get as far away from the model as possible, and I’ve tried to follow it to a T. Neither worked because in was kidding the critical element.

A significant other who was worthy of me in general, and worthy of my submission to him.

God saw fit to bless me with my beautiful children anyway, and I know they are going to make amazing humans, that contribute something big to the world.

But, if we remove the preachy preaching and remove the word Christ from the photo, the bottom line is that no one can know another person’s life, their choices, and what makes them happy, until they’re told. What scares me is that our society is developing a knee jerk reaction to reject conventional ideas. I love pushing the envelope, don’t get me wrong, but I also really like my old school way of living in my day to day life. That doe snot make me an unhappy oppressed woman. That just makes me partial to that type of dynamic. Live your best life guys, because this is getting crazy in 2020 and it’s too short to do anything else. However, please stop demonizing people living a conventional life without even speaking to them about it and then have the nerve to call yourself a humanitarian, or feminist.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk and I am so sorry it was so delayed! Life always happens.

3 Surprising Things I’ve Learned About Writing From… Writing (see also: blogging)

I’ve always loved writing. I have always struggled to write, with discipline and grammar and such, I mean I use commas the same way men have used me. A. Freaking. Lot. And for no good reason, too.

Somewhere along the way I started to believe my writing was not worth reading in an imperfect state. Dont ask me how much I’ve spent on proofreading programs over the years, or even just 2020. Seriously, it makes me physically sick as I type this from my phone with zero intention of running it through Grammarly or ProWritingAid (both excellent programs, however I adore ProWritingAid. I’m essentially just using Grammarly to make myself feel better about forgetting to cancel the subscription before over $100 was drafted from my account, kicking and screaming, I assure you).

Along with the assumption that my writing is trash if it has a typo, or a comma splice (hehehe), comes an inherent inability to ever publish it anywhere. I had this blog over a month before I made my first post. I had my first post written out for around 27 days. I kept rereading and rewriting which mean rerunning through the programs. It was REdundant, and frankly, really dumb. I am not saying I have just a ton of followers or anything, but there’s an entire, like, 10ish people who don’t give a rat’s behind about proper and consistent verb tenses, what person I’m writing in from one paragraph to the next, or *gasp* comma abuse (I really only do this, because I’m southern. I write how I talk and it’s hot down here, yall. We gotta pause to sip the ice cold sweet nectar of the gods: Dr. Pepper)

Blogging has given me a new perspective. And I would like to share that perspective with yall in the interest if telling someone else to just HIT PUBLISH.


For your entertainment, and for mine. Who can tell me what on earth I’m doing looking like Aunt Jemimah?


3 Things I’ve Learned About Writing from.. Writing.

  1. Blogging from the WordPress App? Amazing. I wouldn’t post half of my content without it. When I sit down at my laptop my mind hops around more than a flea on a dog’s belly (okay that’s my bumpkin phrase for this post I had to get it in there somewhere after using yall as much as I have). I start looking at my Trello boards. Then I’m checking on how affiliate marketing even works. Holy crap, this is supposed to be the email I ONLY USE FOR IMPORTANT THINGS WHY DID I SUBSCRIBE TO ALL THIS JUNK?!? You get the idea.
  2. Inspiration really does come anywhere, anytime. That ties into number one a little, but guys I was sitting here playing farm games on my phone, tweeted at the developers telling them to please make an anxiety/depression mode that let’s me play, but removes any purchasing options, when I realized I hadn’t written in a week. I’ve been going through it lately and havent wanted to write. Suddenly, I thought of a haiku. A 5-7-5 HAIKU. I wasnt even sure how to spell that. I had to let my phone do it.
  3. Writing really is cathartic. I would go absolutely nuts without this blog these days. If you looked at my Haiku, you’ll think this one is BS. However, I’m a veteran in the contradicting myself game. Hello..I have kids, and because I said so.

Somewhere along the way I started to believe that my writing was not worth reading in an imperfect state.

Canva is also cathartic. I urge you guys to give it a go. It’s free and makes me feel like a graphic designer. They don’t pay me to say that (in fact they turned me down, lack of traffic LOL), its just been awesome for me and I want to share.
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So there’s my ramble for today. No editing, no censor, no spelling or grammar checks. Lots, of, commas. Y’all connect with me on social media, give me a reason to keep up with that better.

One tried and true thought process guaranteed to improvie your Mother’s Day 2021 – (Lack of) Mother’s Day Parades: Why I don’t allow or expect grandiose gestures.

Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the Mommas. I hope you woke up on your own, with a cold Dr. Pepper in the fridge for you. Or hot coffee, or you rock stars who make the healthy things. I don’t know what you drink in the morning, but I hope you had it!

As for the rest of the day, I have some advice for you guys.

Stop expecting a parade today.

Seriously. Expectations breed resentment, it’s a loosing battle that you shouldn’t have engaged in to begin with.

Does that mean you don’t deserve the parade? Hell no. You deserve all the parades, this mommin’ thing ain’t easy. But let me ask you this: do you ever stop and take inventory of the mini parades thrown in your honor? For a moment, remove the “overworked/underpaid/unappreciated patch from your motherhood vest, and think about what your kids and SO have done lately with the intention of helping you, or at the very least, staying out of your way.

I did this a  couple months ago. And it’s important to remember that kids and relationships are far from perfect so that “intention” word is super operative. I have at least two “mini parades” every single day between the four kids and my SO. Guys, thats so much more important than a Mother’s Day Parade.

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Mini Parades are my girls unloading the dishwasher and cleaning the counter after seeing me struggle and shut down emotionally after a hard day of work. They don’t come tell me, eager for praise and reward, they just go about their business and tell their dad/stepdad’s company to clean up after himself because this was a surprise for me (they’re fantastic, my favorites.. but don’t tell the others).

The Mini Parade when the teenager emerges from his cave, sees me struggling to hold a 22lb five month old and prepare a bottle and just takes him, and then tells me he will start feeding him if I need to go to the bathroom or smoke a cigarette (he’s my favorite, but don’t tell the others).

The MID SIZE parade when my SO starts cooking supper after I told him I would do it after the baby is settled. That one sometimes evolves to a Moderate Parade when the baby is being difficult and he BRINGS ME A PLATE TO BED.

These are my examples though, what are yours? Drop them below and let’s take a day meant for us to be celebrated to realize just how celebrated we are.

If you’re not feeling okay today, reach out to me using one of the contact methods below. Seriously, there are no parades scheduled today, REACH OUT if you need to talk.

Send me a message through any of these platforms

“Expectations breed resentment”

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Help Me Grow

Hey guys! I am celebrating getting over my huge fear of creating other platforms for this blog. Eventually I want it to be a source of income, even if that’s small, so long as it stays passive income, I don’t cheese out, and writing is still the outlet and not the subject matter. It would be great if you could connect with those pages and help me grow my audience. I appreciate you!

The Spaghettios That Broke the Camel’s Back: The Day My Job Won.

TGIF right? Not for someone in my shoes. I’m not glad it’s Friday. I need an extra day to work so that I don’t fail another week on my performance improvement plan. I’m trying to squeeze three days worth of work into one. I started my day hopeful. I did the math, I sat down and I put my headphones in, determined to ignore the most basic instinct we have as mother’s, the crying child. His dad had it handled. He always has, it was never about whether or not the child was taken care of. It’s been about my own anxiety, and the fact that I could not hear him cry and continue to release claims until I put my eyes on him. It’s about hearing him vomit for the 15th time in 4 hours, knowing my SO needs a break, deserves a break, and just sit there feeling like a piece of garbage mom and SO.

So I help. I give him the 3 minutes I can spare, I forfiet all my breaks, my lunch, all of it so I can hold my infant son because not doing that sends me into a downward spiral, and regardless if I’m at my desk or rocking my child, providing my smell, heartbeat, and God awful humming that he needs to relax, work is not getting done either way. This has led to a not so significant drop in my productivity, and I say not significant because I never regained the numbers that I had prior to maternity leave.

I returned to work and was able to work 3 weeks before COVID happened and we were thrown into remote work and expected to not miss a beat. I have been treated as though this is a trial run for something I asked for. I’ve tried talking to my boss about how the threat of COVID 19 has amplified my postpartum anxiety passed a recognizable point, about how I cannot take the meds my angelic midwife prescribed sans office visit because they’re non narcotic, but an antihistamine. It’s a wonderful emergency me, but it takes me out mentally for 24 hours. The only response I’ve gotten is an illumination of the fact that I was not meeting the standard before we went to work from home, and the information for EAP. EAP is a great program, but I still haven’t been able to make the call because I cannot afford to take a single minute from my office hours and apply it to calling multiple clinicians. It’s a vicious cycle, a game where I’m running down a never-ending tunnel and the monster chasing me has a jet pack, all they have to do is push the button and I’m toast, without even the consolidation of butter.

I was starving today and I’d already given my lunch break up to snuggle the baby and make a run to the store for Dr. Peppers. I decided I would very quickly microwave some Spaghettios, even though I felt insulted with the fact that I wasn’t at least going to cook them on the stove. I digress, like I said, starving. So I season them up, put them in the microwave and go click through a claim. As I go to get them they don’t seem terribly hot. I stir them up and promptly attempt to “whoosh” them 15 feet from the kitchen to my desk. Mid “whoosh” my identifying prints were slowly being burned from my fingertips and instictively I let go. Mid. Whoosh. I. Let. Go.

Now my entire hand is covered in hot, radioactive, spaghettio sauce. I screeched from the initial heat shock, and again when I looked down and saw the murder scene in the kitchen, because why wouldn’t I cover the white appliances? I heard my SO run into the kitchen as I fell to the floor and started sobbing. I heard him quickly, and quietly, back out of the kitchen so I could have my moment. This was it. I couldn’t possibly clean up this mess and have time to make anything else and get my work done, who am I even kidding? That work was never going to get done. Not even on a good day and this day was far from that.

I cleaned my mess. I stepped outside. I tried to pull myself together and sit back down at work, and I no more than unlocked my screens before I was bawling again. I had failed. I had failed as an employee, and if I lost my income I would have failed as a provider when my SO trusted me to maintain my income as he gave up his to stay home with the baby. I failed my kids, because they deserve better.

Speaking of those kids, about this time my daughter comes down the stairs. We have enough stairs and she’s graceful like it’s her middle name (it actually is) that I had plenty of warning to make a solid attempt to fix my face. Which was all in vain. She knew what was up. She’s known me her whole life. She recognized the yelp, crash, and subsequent sobbing. She gave me enough time to collect myself and came to check on me (whoooweeeee does my 7 year old know too much about anxiety).

“What’s wrong momma?” And I just shake my head and tell her it’s work stuff. And she says to me, almost like she can’t believe her ears,

“Momma, you get done what you can in the time you have and that just has to be good enough. We don’t stress about this right now remember?”

My 7-year-old child

She was repeating the words I said to them over and over about their distance learning assignments given after school closures took place. Here I was, a mess, but my daughter couldn’t wrap her head around that because all she had seen was me bare my teeth and snarl at three different district campus principals, telling them they were not going to cause my children any additional stress or anxiety during a global pandemic.

Guys, I’m probably going to receive corrective action, and that combined with the struggles I’ve faced previously will likely pace the way toward my termination. I suspect this is a goal for the company at this point as we move forward with Texas Reopening and the money lost during the pandemic comes into play. A layoff may be in the works and I am one less employee they will have to provide severance for. I’m speculating, of course, but it’s neither here nor there.

I know I have done the best job I could with the cards dealt into my shaking hands. My family knows I love them, and that I will always stand ready to growl at anyone who causes them discomfort, well intentioned or otherwise.

Today, my job wins. The man wins. Corporate Greed probably wins. But I won’t waste a second more with wet cheeks, a pounding heart, and rapid respirations. This is not worth my health, my sanity, and it will no longer cost me the ability to be present for and take care of my family.

[Not] Grateful

Discover Prompts threw me into a rage simply by suggesting the word “grateful” yesterday.

I wasn’t grateful yesterday. And that simple fact drove my entire being into a self loathing state. I could hear that voice in my head telling me to look at my family, and chastising me for being a brat. The mom guilt that followed threatened to swallow me whole. I had a rough feedback meeting with my supervisor yesterday. My production lately hasn’t been up to par, and I’m facing corrective action if it doesn’t essentially double this week. Since COVID 19 flipped upside down my anxiety has run rampant and wiggled into the one place I have never allowed: my work. I can’t contain it, I can’t control it, and I can actively see it destroying my life. I hung up feeling like a piece of garbage employee, and when I clocked out for the day and tried to settle the baby down, he just wanted his daddy, so now I was a piece of garbage mother because I spent too much time being a piece of garbage employee.

The inner angiush was torture that led to the neglect of my kids as I barricaded myself in the bedroom with Amazon Prime Video’s finest collection of soothing baby music, a bottle of formula, and an angry baby, because the person involved with the night night routine is irrelevant for my son. He is mad at whoever is making him lay down. He cried, I cried. He flailed his arms and hit me, and I cried some more (seriously, how can a five month old hit this hard!?). He finally snuggled against me and drifted to sleep, and I just continued to cry.

I woke up to my girls cleaning up the kitchen counter as a surprise and not a word from my SO about last night. This is why I love them. This is why I know the family I created and then chose to blend with my SO was the one I needed. They understood who I was and how my mind sometimes attacked me. They deserve all the props and all the love.

But, I want to revisit something. This entire episode was launched by my not feeling grateful. On top of everything that led 5o me being ungrateful, I was then slammed with guilt for feeling that way. Self inflicted guilt that has been engrained into me through my southern raising where “you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit,” and the word ungrateful was equal in comparison to any four letter word you could call someone. I do the same to my children. I stress go them how lucky we are and how they should not take it for granted, because that is an important life lesson they should learn. I grew up in a family where alcoholism and addiction didn’t run anywhere. It unpacked and moved into the spare room until the next kid was old enough to indulge. By the time I was in high school I was very familiar with the Big Book and the core values taught to me were mantras repeated at meetings: Let go and let God, it works if you work it, The Serenity Prayer, etc. I am thankful for all of these things because it did not stop me from going down that road, but the path to recovery is easier when it’s familiar, when it feels like coming home.

One of the things I learned as an adult in recovery is to allow myself to feel how I feel. I have a terrible habit formed out of anxiety to push my feelings, thoughts, and needs to the side in order to maintain peace or avoid conflict. I still do it when my anxiety takes over, I did it last night. I went to bed because I did not want to continue the conflict within myself. This type of behavior for someone with a drug problem is dangerous because it inevitably leads to using a substance to continue to avoid the things we don’t want to face.

Preventing the cycle continuance of unhealthy coping mechanisms largely hinges on my ability to identify and fight them myself. Starting with this grateful word, I am choosing to allow what I call “idle complaints.” Which have been banned until now. Normally, in my home, you are not allowed to present a complaint without also presenting an example of something you’re grateful for. As of now, that is scrapped. Instead, you will be allowed idle complaints, under the expectation that a solution to said complaint would also be presented within a week, because wallowing in self pity is just as damaging as swimming in anxiety.

There you have it, my thoughts scattered and closed on how all that mess ended up being used to evaluate and improve my parenting style. Which is what I want you to take away from this, especially if you’re an anxious mom. We cannot change the condition we are stuck with, we can’t control when it will decide to sideline us, but we can look back on the episode, analyze it from a different angle and choose to bring some light out of that dark moment.

Texas Reopens – 3 reasons to keep staying home if you can.

“How many of you actually know someone suffering from Covid 19 ? If not let me be that person . I hear that for most symptoms are mild . Here is my story. Headaches so severe you can count your pulse in your head . Fever that returns every night then breaks around 3 am . No appetite no sense of taste . Let’s say pnuemonia is painful to say the least . A cough so persistent you don’t know if you can take in a breath of air . I know the economy is important . But trust me so is my life and it’s been in doubt lately . So wear your PPE and at the first sign of symptoms seek help . Don’t go to work and infect others . My worst nightmare is getting my wife sick . My mother , sister every other day with care packages and food . My wife and sister-in-law feed and water my hounds as well as ,[removed to respect privacy] . I predict this is going to get alot worst . I don’t know what the answers are . I just don’t want anyone to minimize how aweful it is to suffer from this .

-Quote from a public Facebook post.

.

Take these symptoms and apply them to someone with COPD, any lung related issue pretty much… They’re dead, probably. Maybe a quick diagnosis and treatment could keep them strong enough to fight it… But that’s a big maybe in a sea of proven cases and dead people.

What’s worse? COVID 19 sporadically killing people that are not in the “high risk” category. Because none of our docs or scientists have seen something like this, they seem to be expected to magically craft a vaccine when it took YEARS AND YEARS to get the ones we have now.

COVID19 is vicious and unpredictable. Our doctor’s are risking their health and the health of their families going to work every day trying to figure it out and care for those who have it. My prior PCP is in a hard hit area of LA working in an emergency room… Y’all I don’t know how she manages it. I would have already curled up in the fetal position and handed them my medical license by now. Nope, she spends her free time in two groups of medical doctor’s virtually collaborating on effective treatments. She’s a freaking hero.

I get that we are looking at another Great Depression if we stay closed down, but we know how to get through that even if it ain’t pretty. We don’t KNOW what this virus is doing, how it works and about the time we figure it out… That MF will probably mutate because this shit show is too wild to not have a sequel.

Okay – So I promised ya’ll  some reasons via the title, and I feel I’ve provided them in the above text but let me lay it out, in list form as it’s said to improve information retention.

We need to give our scientific community time to figure this out. Doing our part by slowing the spread of the virus will ease the burden on them clinically, so more research and case review can be done. 

Our country did a BOMB ASS job in a lot of areas when we were forced to go virtual. We need to build on that momentum, because I guarantee you if we continue to work remotely and our amazing tech community is free to live up to their potential.. Great Depression Who?! I’m just saying. 

I don’t know about ya’ll, but I’m terrified. We have to actually enjoy our lives without COVID 19 standing in the corner being all weird and stalker-y. Otherwise there is no point. 

  • We need to give our scientific community time to figure this out. Doing our part by slowing the spread of the virus will ease the burden on them clinically, so more research and case review can be done. 
  • Our country did a BOMB ASS job in a lot of areas when we were forced to go virtual. We need to build on that momentum, because I guarantee you if we continue to work remotely and our amazing tech community is free to live up to their potential.. Great Depression Who?! I’m just saying. 
  • I don’t know about ya’ll, but I’m terrified. We have to actually enjoy our lives without COVID 19 standing in the corner being all weird and stalker-y. Otherwise there is no point. 

Rather than hurry to reopen, HURRY TO GET MORE AID TO THE PEOPLE WHO LOST THEIR INCOME. Not everyone, we can’t just be getting free money all the time because I like my dollar being worth what it is now. But the self-employed beauty industry professionals, yeah they need help like three weeks ago. Anyone of that nature or unemployed needs full benefits.

Check on your friends and family, don’t forget depression didn’t go away because our survival is being threatened. Imagine that your own brain is always trying to take you out. Send that text, make the phone call, it’s worth it. 

If you are not ok and want to talk to someone about it:

I respond to every response received. I don’t have a list of resources for you. I don’t even have the ability to change your situation. But I care about you and I will listen (or read cause who liked to talk out loud anymore, especially mom’s. If we are alone, the kids are asleep. We can’t be risking them finding out about our alone time). 

Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Stay home. Stay safe. Y’all are already acting stupid on the roads.