Family can be toxic too.

It’s been a while since I’ve written, I’ve been working on myself very closely. Since February, I’ve lost 21 pounds and have been working on my mental health and happiness. Part of working on myself is figuring out the negative energies in my life and eliminating them.

At first, I felt guilty. I felt like I HAD to keep certain people in my life simply because they had the same blood as me. I felt like I would be judged, like there would be side takers and hurt feelings. What I didn’t realize was I was ultimately hurting myself. I didn’t realize that by accepting the behaviors of certain people, I was depriving myself of the fresh air I deserved.

Im here to tell you, YOU are the most important in your life. YOU need to always put your feelings before anyone else’s. At the end of the day, when you sit with your glass of wine, on the couch, or in bed, you’re the only one who’s in your head. You’re the only one looking around the room, the only one who feels your energy. If you’re neglecting your mind and heart, you’re only hurting YOU.

There have been times in my life that I was completely alone. I was assaulted, I was mentally and verbally abused, and you know what I also was? Naive. I was constantly looking for approval. I was always trying to make people see that my intentions and heart were pure.

You know what I learned? Not to give a fuck what anyone thinks of me. To stop looking for that approval that I craved when I was younger. To stop doing things for people who didn’t deserve my time.

There were times when I didn’t speak to a single family member, where I was so guarded, so distrusting, that I thought everyone was the enemy.

I would let family members speak to me like I was nothing. I would let them put their hands on me with no repercussions. But I would never let a total stranger disrespect me. Do you know how screwed up that sounds?

One day, I said enough. I’ve had ENOUGH. I was not going to let ANYONE treat me like I was below them. I was going to use my strength, my voice and my actions to show that I mattered.

I matter.

I don’t care if you’re my parents, a sibling, a cousin or an aunt.. just because you are blood related does not mean you have the power to stay in my life. It does not mean your behavior is excusable and it certainly doesn’t mean you can exempt from consequences.


I will never speak to my brother again.

There are certain family members that I have no interest in claiming as family.

I am not cold hearted. I am not just “hurt.” I am not “so broken” that I’m just saying things out of anger.

I am finally putting myself first. My life, my kids, my surroundings… they will always come before your hurt feelings.


Do not ever feel guilty for removing what isn’t in your best interest. Don’t ever be scared to be judged. Let them talk, let them judge, let them hate.

I don’t have room in my heart or mind for hate. I’m only trying to improve myself and I can’t do that with the toxic people that once were in it.

So the next time you’re crying, you feel defeated, look and ask yourself why. Why are you letting someone control your emotions. Who is standing in the way of your fresh air? Remove them. Whoever it is.. remove them.

Toxic is toxic.

Tonight is my night to cry

I started this blog because I wanted to share real experiences with my readers. I wanted to show the good, the bad, and the ugly about being a mom, a wife and about life itself. I wanted y’all to feel like you’re not alone. Like you’re relatable. So many people keep quite because they think their situation is going to get them judged or frowned upon. Like you saying your kids are assholes – and it being your ticket to hell.

Today, I have an ugly. I have a raw truth about how we feel. I say “we” because I know I’m not alone in this.. I may be the one to say it right now, but I know I’m not the only one who feels it.

After I laid on my sons bedroom floor for 40 minutes, just waiting for his little tired piercing eyes to stop staring at me, I went downstairs. I went downstairs and saw the mess. I saw the food on the floor. I saw the Christmas boxes scattered everywhere. I saw my coffee table slid across the living room. I saw a headache.

I was drained. I was mentally and emotionally drained today. I sat on the couch and I just sobbed. I pet my dogs head who jumped up on me and just balled my eyes out.

Why? Because today, I felt like a a failure. For the last few months, I have felt like a failure. I have kept it all bottled up for so long that I just exploded when I finally sat down. I have been failing at being a Mom, a wife, a woman and a human being. Every time I look around I get overwhelmed with all the things I have to do, want to do, or need to do. It just sucks all the energy I had for that split second right out of me. How could I be this sad? How can I cry this many tears knowing I have three healthy children, a beautiful house/roof over my head, and a husband that loves me.

Because LIFE.

Just because we have nice things and beautiful blessings, doesn’t mean we aren’t ever allowed to be stressed, sad or angry.

My kids have been demons. Straight up, demons. Their respect is gone. It’s been thrown into the river and is sailing to some long lost country right now. Their attitudes are disgusting. Sometimes, I honestly don’t even want to talk to them. Yup, I said it. I said an ugly truth. They whine over everything. Every. Little. Thing. Like GIVE IT A REST ALREADY. Don’t your eyes hurt from whining over your little brother flicking your toe? Doesn’t your throat hurt from yelling in your sisters face because she took too much of your oxygen? I mean seriously, do you enjoy getting grounded?

Because I don’t enjoy grounding you. I don’t enjoy yelling, I don’t enjoy being the bad guy that won’t let you play fortnite.

I want to so badly be one of those moms on T.V, those ones in the movies that make their kids a 5 star meal before school. That have a fresh fruit Buffett on the island with their eggs and smoothies ready to go.

But let’s face it. That shit’s fake. No one actually does that. I’m lucky if I can get my 8 year old to put his cereal bowl in the sink before we walk out the door for school.

I so badly want to be that mom that cuddles and kisses every single little booboo, the mom that never yells, that never forgets anything. That mom that uses a sweet tone at all times when talking to the kids, that calls them sweetie and love bug. That mom that does all the right things, like getting all the nutrients they need in every meal, remembering to floss each night or making the kids bed each morning with their pillows perfectly in place. But I’m not. I’m not that Mom.

So I’m crying for that. I’m crying because at the end of the night, I play back how I handled situations and I feel terrible. Why did I yell when the milk spilled for the third time? Did I really care that much? Why did I not let Landon help me unload the dish washer when he wanted to? Do I secretly like unloading the dishes by myself? Was I that annoyed that I couldn’t just let him help?

Once I sit down and think, I realize how bad I sucked that day. So yeah, it makes me sad. I’m human. I make mistakes. I go through rough patches. I’m allowed to feel a certain way.

You want to know what else I feel? I feel like if I didn’t cry, if I didn’t second guess myself, if I didn’t feel guilt… Then I wouldn’t be a decent human being. I feel those things because I have a good heart. I wouldn’t want to do better tomorrow if I didn’t care about my choices today.

I just really dislike these times in life where you just feel…. defeated. You feel like nothing you’re doing, teaching, or trying to accomplish is working. So I’m crying.

I feel like I haven’t had an adult interaction in 5 years. You know when you’re a stay at home mom, your only conversations are with children? That you talk about baby dolls, fortnite and how smelly feet are and why frogs are ugly. I know people say that being a stay at home mom is easy, but hunny, let me tell you something. I would hold a brick in both hands for 10 hours just to talk to other adults at a job.

I’m not saying I don’t love being home. That I don’t love being a mom, a wife and everyone’s backbone. I do. I love feeling that I’m needed. It’s just suffocating sometimes. Feeling like your 15 minute break just never came. Like your boss just forgot to give it to you that day. I don’t even pee alone. I don’t shower alone. I don’t sleep alone. So sometimes, I’m just exhausted of not having anything to look forward to.

So last night, I made a decision. I decided I’m going to take that break. I’m going to have that much needed time to myself, or with just my husband and I. No kids. No housework. No bills. Nothing but quality time. I need opportunities to reset myself. To fill up my gas tank and get a tune up. Your body is like everything else in life. It needs repairs, it needs essential things to help keep it going, it needs love. As Moms, or stay at home parents, we forget to tend to our needs since we’re always focusing our energy on everyone else.

I’m not wrong for wanting to put myself on the same pedestal as those around me.

So tonight, I cry.

But then…

I’ll collect myself, I’ll love myself and I’ll take that break.

I carry so much love in my heart for everyone else, it’s time to give some of that love back to myself, so I can be the best mom, wife, and woman I can be. πŸ’•

One day, a photo will be all you have left.

Hey y’all! Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season and is starting the new year off in the right direction. I know I am! By that, I mean returning to my blog. One of my resolutions is not neglecting it and really finding the time to write about more topics for y’all and for myself.

I have something that’s been weighing heavily on my mind lately.. and that’s photographs. As most of you know, I’m a photographer in my spare time of raising my three children. I do photo shoots on the weekend when my husband’s home, or I try to squeeze them in during the week if he’s off. I absolutely love taking photos for people. I love capturing those special moments- engagement, pregnancy, gender reveals, military homecomings.. Its truly an honor to be the one who gets to give you those memories on paper. Who gets to know the gender of your baby before your family does. Who gets to see your face the first time you see your loved one after a deployment. Me. I get to be the one who you trust, to capture those priceless moments.

I love every minute of it. Every minute.

As much as I love seeing your families together, smiling, laughing, kissing.. you know what I forget? I forget to capture those types of emotions and moments with my family. I get so wrapped up in taking photos for others, that I forget to take some of my kids and my husband and I. I have to not forget. You know why? Well, at some point, that photo of you holding your baby for the first time in the hospital room after just giving birth, may be the only photo your baby has. Life happens y’all. Life happens. Your entire world can flip upside down in a matter of seconds.

I’ve seen it happen. Just because you’re young or you think, “oh it’s okay, I’ll do it tomorrow,” doesn’t mean that tomorrow will come. One day you’re going to sit and try to remember that crooked little smile your son did when he was 8. You’re going to try to remember what your husband looked like on your wedding day, while you walked down the isle towards him. You’re going to wish you could of saw your face when you got proposed to. You’re going to wish you took that photo of your daughter who was 9 months pregnant, so you could remember her face when she was about to become a mother herself. You’re going to wish you had the photos to support the memories you had.

Photographs are timeless.

One day when you’re old and and gray, you’re going to look back at the photos are remember.

You’re going to remember what your husbands cologne smelled like when he kissed you at the alter.

You’re going to hear the cries of your first child being born when you look at the photo of them on the scale after delivery.

You’re going to taste the tears you had when you saw you were about to be asked to be someone’s wife.

No one is going to care if your hair wasn’t done that day. No one is going to care if you wore make up, if you were going through a “heavy” stage, or if you had your eyes closed. People are going to remember YOU. Just you. Your kids are going to look at photos and remember mom.

Your husband will look at photos and remember you, his wife, the love of his life..not the sweat pants and T-shirt you wore that day.

If you ever wanted family pictures done, DO IT. If you wanted to hire a photographer for your wedding, but thought it cost too much, DO IT. If you wanted to do a surprise proposal and needed it captured, get a photographer! I promise you won’t regret it. You won’t regret having those memories in your heart and in your hands.

Photos are so important. Always stop and remember to take the photos, and be IN the photos.

Because one day, photos are all you’ll have left..

Stop judging other parents.

Here I am, sitting in the Kroger grocery pick up line while my kids are literally screaming at each other. The baby is crying, my daughter is yelling at my oldest son because he looked out HER window and my son is yelling at my daughter because he can look where ever he wants, the right area of the world isn’t hers. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ

I put my windows down because honestly, it’s a nice day at a beautiful 67 degrees here in Texas and I want to get oxygen that isn’t contaminated with the screams of my children.

I have this car next to me, a woman in it about 40? A bit older than me maybe. She just keeps staring at me. Well, glaring at me if I’m being honest. So what do I do? Smile. I smiled at her. She shook her head. Like shook it in disgust. She says, “maybe try controlling them.” As if it’s that easy. Ha. She has NO idea of the type of morning I’ve already had by 10am.

I don’t dare bringing my children into the grocery store anymore, hence why I’m in the grocery pick up line in the first place. With her by the way, but do you see me judging her reasoning behind needing someone else to do her shopping for her? Nope. don’t care. I won’t lose sleep over it.

Anyways, my morning was filled with screams, head bangs (from my 18 month old, because apparently dropping to your knees and hitting your head on the floor every time you hear the word “no” is the proper way to handle that situation.) arguments, broken bowls and spilled milk. I also stubbed my toe on the bench when I was getting my shoes on, which really freaking hurt and can put you in a bad mood in 2 seconds.

I literally had to stop an argument between my oldest two about if swallowing gum makes your poop stuck later on. Again, πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ. My oldest said he couldn’t go to the bathroom and my daughter said its probably the gum you swallowed earlier. Now your poop is stuck forever. (Insert evil laugh here)

Of course, he said that isn’t true, she said it is, and that is where world war 10 started. I corrected the situation that swallowing gum does in fact make you constipated, because let’s face it, I don’t want them swallowing gum. I told them from now on I won’t be there referee. They need to figure out their disagreements by themselves because I can’t constantly solve all their problems.

I know, I’m terrible right?

So back to the woman in the kroger grocery pick up who made a comment to me about controlling my kids. I told her, ” actually, I’m teaching them to figure out their own arguments and come to an agreement together. I can’t control everything they say or do. Why don’t you learn something from them and figure out a solution to your problem, like maybe rolling up your window. ”

So yeah, I probably shouldn’t of said something so snappy, BUT again, with my morning, I thought I handled it well.

By the time I had all my groceries loaded up my kids were laughing because my youngest was blowing raspberries on their hands and his face looked like a squirrel.

I waved to the woman who was parked next to me as I backed out and you know what she did? She smiled. Yup, she smiled at ME. I pulled off feeling pretty good. My kids handled their debate about looking out each other’s windows, they decided they can look out each other’s windows as long as the other person says so. Landon stopped crying over his one shoe being on, because he finally pulled it off and I got my groceries without having to step foot in the store.

Basically, all I’m saying is, something may look “bad” when you only see a glimpse of it..but you shouldn’t judge it based off one page.

I ultimately have really happy kids, they just fight sometimes like normal siblings do. I scream sometimes, but I love them more than life itself. We have bad days, but it doesn’t mean we suck at our jobs. ❀️ You’re doing alright mamas!

When you know you’re done having kids.

Happy October 1st y’all! I figured we’d start this month off right with a new blog! 🍁

So, let me ask you something.. are you done having kids? If so, when did you know? How did you know? Is there like a little timer that goes off in your uterus that says, “DING! You’re done. Your stomach is no longer needed to bring little humans into the world.”

Well, for me. I didn’t hear the timer go off, but I did hold my third child in the delivery room and feel completed. I looked at him and knew that my heart was full. I felt content knowing that he was the last human I was going to bring into the world.

I had a rough pregnancy the first go around. Bed rest, leaking fluid, preterm labor… FOUR TIMES.. yes, I know, why did I have more after that? But I didn’t feel done, I knew I was meant to mother more than one child. It’s not that I didn’t love him enough, it’s not that I wasn’t happy with just one blessing, I just knew in my heart that my purpose was to raise more than one of these things. I was meant to use my big heart and guide and love multiple children.

So I had a second. This time it was a girl. I won’t lie, I was a little sad I had a girl, because I knew that I was in for it. I knew that a girl was going to turn my hair gray at age 30. I knew she was going to be a miniature me, but times like 100.

Getting pregnant was tough this time, it took about 8 months, lots of feelings of defeat and sadness when that test would come back negative.

But when I finally did get a positive test and I finally was pregnant..

Her pregnancy was perfect. I mean if you could ask for the perfect pregnancy with no sickness, beautiful skin, glowing from every part of your body and have enough energy to climb a mountain (which I did by the way), this was it. By the time I hit 40 weeks I asked my doctor if he was sure I was done. Was it REALLY over? I felt like I could stay pregnant for a few more months. But nope; it was really over, I was getting induced with my second child.

Again, I held her and knew my journey wasn’t over. You know that thing people talk about, “baby fever?” Well, it’s a real thing. It’s tough. You crave a baby’s scent. You miss the wrinkly skin that curls up on your chest and falls asleep. You miss those smiles they give you the minute you look at them. It’s addicting. Yes, babies are an addiction and it needs to be stopped. Just kidding. You can stop whenever you’re ready!

So we had a third. This time the pregnancy was terrible. At the time we conceived I had been diagnosed with severe anxiety. Unable to take medication because I was pregnant, I dealt with the symptoms on my own. Those 9 months were excruciating. I honestly don’t know how I made it to full term. But I did. I delivered a beautiful, healthy, baby boy. I held him in the delivery room and felt full. I felt like I completed what I was meant to do. I was meant to be a mother to three children, a boy, Cameron. A girl, Giana. & another boy, Landon.

When all three of my kids were together for the first time I will never forget what I felt. I felt completed. I felt like they felt completed. I felt like my heart was equally split three ways and this was it for me. I FELT done.

A timer may not go off in your uterus, things may not happen as you want them to, but what you are meant to do will come to light at some point. At some point, you’ll feel content. You’ll feel happy with how things turned out. ❀️

Their doctor isn’t the Mama, you are.

This morning I was on the phone with my sister in law and we got into the topic of doctors appointments. Both our youngest kids have their appointments coming up and we’re dreading it! Why? Well it seems like every time I go to a “milestone” appointment, I get told I’m doing something wrong or my child isn’t on track like the other 99 percent of the baby population.

I have three kids. I learned not to take everything the Pedatrician says to heart. I learned to remember that I’m their mom. Not her. Me. I know what is best for my children because I’m with them every single day, all day long. I know that my youngest needs to be held when he wakes up from his nap, because if I put his feet on the ground too early he turns into the Incredible Hulk and starts smashing his head into the floor.

He just needs a little more snuggles and love before he can venture off to the playroom and that is okay! I am not going to hinder his chances of being in the popular crowd in 7th grade because I held him for 10 extra minutes each day.

There are so many “rules” now when it comes to parenting. Don’t spank your kids, don’t give them juice, ask them if you can change their diaper, (which is absolutely INSANE, I’m not asking my 18 month old permission to change him. He will lay there while I change him so his butt doesn’t smell like a horse stable for a second longer.) Don’t hold them too much, they need tummy time for 10 minutes every two hours.. like, damn. How did we survive 30 years ago? We all should be dead because I’m sure non of yall’s mom followed those rules!

Anyways, at my son’s last appointment I was made to feel like I did something wrong. I was made out to be this terrible mother who could of saved my son the trauma from the 20 mosquito bites on each one of his legs. I walk into the room with the doctor who immediately started checking his legs. She says, “how did he get bit so many times?” Well. Obviously I don’t know. I didn’t ask the mosquitos why they liked my child’s legs more than Susan’s. I didn’t follow him around and count how many mosquitos landed on his skin. But of course, I answered politely with a “We were outside and the kids were running around in the backyard, the mosquitos must of been bad that night.” She says, “why wasn’t he wearing pants???” I’m a little taken back by this one honestly, because we both obviously live in the same state, which is Texas, so how she’s asking me this question really just blows my mind. In my head I’m thinking, uhh I don’t know, BECAUSE ITS 105 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!” But again, I politely said..” because it was very hot outside and I didn’t want to overheat him.” She says well, kids his age don’t need to be out after dark anyways.

SAYS WHO?! It just makes me shake my head how judgmental doctors can be when you know damn well they are giving their kids apple juice when they get home too!

If my youngest wants 4 cups of milk in one day Instead of the recommended 2 cups, then I’m going to probably give it to him.

If he wants to be held a little more one day, I’m going to give him all the snuggles he wants. If he wants to lay in bed with me because he’s crabby one morning, I will let him sleep with me and no I won’t carry him back to his crib when he falls asleep.

Next time you have an appointment with the Pedatrician and they tell you your baby is only in the 10 percentile for height, but he should be in the 30th percentile, just remember to breathe. Remember that you’re not doing anything wrong. My sons were always on the low end of the charts, they were just little. My now eight year old is still just little. He’s super active, very healthy, but just small. There is nothing wrong with that. Sometimes kids just grow differently, some are big, some are petite, some grow in 1st grade, some grow more in 3rd grade. Just remember that. I’m not saying ignore your doctors concerns, I’m just saying that usually it’s nothing you’re doing wrong, it’s just how their bodies are growing.

At the end of the day, you have to remember that you don’t have to follow every single “new study.” You need to follow your heart. You need to follow what you feel is right for your child. You’re the mama.. and you’re a damn good one. Mosquito bitten legs and all.

Chores are the key to well behaved kids.

I know, sounds crazy right? I’m sure you clicked this blog because of the INSANE title you just read, but hear me out.

As most of you know if you have been following my blog, I have three kids. My kids are 8, 5 and 18 months. Most days I don’t know how I’m going to survive until bedtime. Some days my kids are so wild, so untamed, they act like animals that have been locked in a cage and were just freed for the first time in 3 weeks. Totally kidding. Sort of!

Lately, my husband and I have been trying to come up with different solutions to handling their not so respectful behaviors. You know, their outbursts, target temper tantrums and their baffling thoughts that it’s a good idea to take my kitchen mop and dip it in a mud puddle outside to mop the patio.

Yes, that’s a true story. Curtesy of my 8 year old.

We’ve tried it all. We’ve went from EXTREME PUNISHMENTS to just laying down and waving the white flag in their little confident faces.

I don’t know about y’all, but my kids have lost their whole rooms before. One time when my son was four, I found out he had been doing something that I won’t even mention on here, in case in 20 years he stumbles upon this blog and reads what he did. I wouldn’t want to bruise his ego and embarrass him in front of his future wife. Anyways, I found out something he was doing that was so incredibly bad that I decided the only thing to do was take everything out of his room and have him earn it back piece by piece. Extreme right? Maybe, but he never did that again.

Over the past few months our kids have reached a whole new level of brattiness. Is that a word? Yup. It is. So we decided to try a chore chart. The simplest thing. Write their chores on a graft (handmade by me of course) and have them put check marks next to the chores they’ve done for that day.


My house is clean, they haven’t been fighting with each other and I haven’t heard to raise my voice AT ALL. Now that’s a big deal!! Who would of thought that following a schedule like little soldiers would make them behave? Not me! But it’s working!

Tonight before bed after my oldest read a book to the two youngest, you know what he told me? He said, “Mom, I like doing my chore chart.” I said, Oh yeah, why is that? He says, “Because it keeps me busy, I know what I’m suppose to do and I don’t have time to do things that get me in trouble.”

My mouth dropped. My 8 year old understood that what he has been doing gets him in trouble. He understands that when he has too much freedom, he does things that he knows he shouldn’t. That’s a pretty intelligent thing to realize for such a little mind if you ask me!

Then my daughter chimed in, because she has to be apart of every conversation we have in this house. She says, “Mama, I like doing chores too because I like going to bed with a clean room. I don’t clean my room a lot, but now that I have to, I like it better.” I told her how glad I was that she likes going to bed at night in a clean room. She said that she also likes feeding Alena (our dog) because it makes her feel important. I explained to her that she is important because Alena depends on her to do that chore, because if she doesn’t then Alena doesn’t get to eat. She said she promises she won’t forget to do that one.

Now, it’s only been a few days since we started our chore chart, but so far so good. My voice box has had a few days to recover, my kids have been getting along and my house is clean. Life is looking pretty great right now. My statement of “Chores are the key to well behaved kids,” is totally true right now. Key words are, right now..