Not Giving a F*ck | My Hot Mess

Do people really not care what others think of them? 

Like, do they say they don’t - act like they don’t, but then go home to the quietness or lay in bed in the darkness and think about what others have said. 

I mean, I feel like we were built to people please - or at least attempt to be seen as “good and righteous” in the eyes of others. If someone says something about you and you truly don’t give a flying fuck - are you being true to yourself? 

I really want to know. 

I try to not care - I’m a grown woman and in my teenage years I spent way too much time and effort on trying to appease people that didn’t care about me and in the long term, didn’t even matter to me. Lots of wasted time.

So, I feel like I’ve learned from that experience and now only put effort to what will help me grow and build better relationships, but will make me mentally stronger. 

But no matter how hard I try- people get to me. I’m a person who strives to be the best version of myself. 

Yes, I have my faults and I can agree with you on that, but I try to not let people down on a day to day basis. The worst "punishment" to me while growing up was when my father (only once) told me "You disappointed me." And I deserved that because what I did was stupid and definitely the wrong thing to do.

How can one person’s opinion of me affect me to the point I’m writing this blog?! 

One comment. One measly comment that said I wasn't adequate enough to do what I do that it attacked my brain into rethinking I'm not as good as I thought I was.

What the hell.

How do you bounce back from that?

Many friends tried to comfort me.

"It was only one comment, Shari."

"A fluke -- just a fluke, Shari."

"You don't need to worry about one's opinion when it's obviously wrong. You have many other compliments and accomplishments to let this one comment affect you."

They all meant well. And they validated me.

But I'm a people pleaser. Why didn't this one person like me? 

"You shouldn't give a fuck about what others think of you."

I know ... but how the hell do you do that??!?!!?!

Does it stem from low self-esteem?

I shouldn't be suffering from that. I know my worth. It's taken a long time to find that inside.

Does is stem from not truly understanding yourself?

I could see that. I'm still trying to figure out the way my brain works and how to better myself. I don't think one SHOULD fully understand themselves because you SHOULD want to better yourself. 

You're not going to please everyone. I get it. But why be rude about it. It cut deep. 

Complimented everyone who was with me ... but blatantly called me out. Was it to stop me from doing what I do? Was it to give me some sort of punishment? Or whatever I did to you hurt soooo badly - hurt your character soooo much - Hurt your manhood soooo much - that you needed me to dwell on it and cause me pain as well?

Because that's what you did.

But it's cool. I will learn to live with your comments and will use them to better myself. Because my supporters are right. You're just one person, and I shouldn't beat myself up because of your lame, cowardly comments (because you couldn't say it to my face). I will use your foolish comments to help me grow - both in my profession and mentally.

I too want to learn how to not give a fuck. But until then, your comments will get me closer to that goal. You can push me down, but you can't stop me from getting back up.

When Barracks go Wrong | Wearing Stripes

Guys ... I know it seems like I complain.

A LOT.

But I really don't.

I mean, sure - I guess the complaining is what makes a "story" interesting. I mean, would you want to read about someone's life that was perfect in every single way?

I know I wouldn't.

I'd hate that person for being so awesome and I wouldn't be able to compare.

SO --

Here's my complaint number 5,009,394 of the military life.

I have been really lucky to have PCS'd to a new location with my husband and have my old unit be rather workable. They've let me "drill" with other units and they've been pretty cool about me taking physical fitness tests with my husband's unit as well as keeping up to date with my weapons qualifications.

I mean, I know a lot of other units who are horrible and don't take care of their soldiers. I keep up to date on annual health screenings and my soldiering tasks ... and well, I'm pretty good at my job. So my unit lets me be.

So when they say I HAVE to show up, across the country, for a day's certification class (with two extra days of travel) - I obliged.

I mean, I wasn't happy about it. I also only got notice of it a few days prior. BUT - I obliged.

Shoot, during the country's longest government shutdown in history and they want to fly me across the country for a 10 minute certification and pay me three days worth of work?

I'm down. 

However ...

When I arrived to the barracks in which we were to staying - no one could tell me the building number I was in. "It's the second to last building on the left with the third flag pole in front of it and the 4th yellow door on the right."

An hour later - I find the room I'm supposed to be in and there were 9-10 females also sharing the open bay room with me.

And only one single key to the bay.

What in the actual world?!

We are all on different schedules and basically on a short chain to whomever has the key with them.

Ridiculous! 

Oh, and not to mention - no linens were available - WHEN we were told there would be linens available. Luckily, I brought a fitted sheet (thanks to my many Army friends who suggested things to bring to an open bay barracks) and a pillow case. When I got to my bed, there was a pillow - thank goodness. But after asking many National Guard peeps - no linen would be given out to us because they were "reserved" for the students that are staying in the same barracks.

Okay, I get it. Students first. They get first in chow, they get first rooms, they get priority, I get it.

But why the hell are we staying in barracks that don't have enough keys for their instructors OR linens?

Thanks to a local friend - because I went back to Fort Bragg for this - she lent me a comforter for my two nights I stayed in the freezing barracks with no heat.

My biggest complaint is this:

Had I not been local to Fort Bragg years prior, I wouldn't have had the support for resources that I did. I came from the west to the east coast. I was left hanging when I was told I would have the resources needed to sustain a somewhat comfortable living area.

Again, another shout out to my Army peeps for also suggesting bringing an extension cord. There were no electric outlets in the sleeping area. No where to plug in alarm clocks or - SHOCKER - cell phones to wake us up in time for formations.

I had always envied the higher ranking NCOs when I was younger. They always got the top of the line ... after the officers, of course. But I was like, "When I'm a senior NCO, I'm going to be living large."

Nope. 

I was wrong. You are always at the mercy of the military. You think you're cool and then the Army slaps the shit outta you.

All this to say - I'm glad I have great friends who look out for me.

You guys rock.

This also brings me to my recent barracks fiasco.

Fort Hunter Liggett is a beautiful post in California. I would suggest it to be a place for any outdoorsy person. The hills are gorgeous. The sunsets are breathless. The morning fog is beautiful and the history is awesome.

However - the post itself needs work. There's a tiny shoppette with odd hours. A commissary the size of a gas station. ONE gas station with 2 pumps. A bowling alley with 6 lanes and very good Mexican food. A small neighborhood for the ones stationed there and a beautiful hotel on the hill that we just stare at because we can't live there.

My first stay in the Army "minion" living quarters was ridiculous. These barracks were considered condemned for civilians but here I was. Lugging my huge duffle bag up four flights of stairs, nearly in tears when I came into the gnat infested bathroom covered in dust and grime. The room was decent, once I cleaned it. And after about an hour of scrubbing the bathroom ... I was able to go in there and not burst into tears. Though, the water would flood so by the time you were done with your 10 minute shower, you were now standing knee deep in water and filth.

Guys - we complained about the living quarters and what did they say to us? "Yeah, it's bad. It's considered inhabitable."

WTF.

Not to mention the broken ass door to the bathroom that someone got into a fight with in the middle of the night and just decided to keep it propped up and walk away ...

Pretty sure there will be a list put out within the next year or so for anyone who stayed on FHL's black mold infested barracks to get 20% disability just like the Iraq burn pits list that was released. No joke.

This past week, I was back at good ol' FHL and we got the privilege to live in the newer barracks that active duty normally stay in. I was pretty excited, until I found out there was no internet. (Even the condemned barracks had internet.) I know first world problems ... but I mean, we were expected to work out of our barracks ... and no internet. Sounds about right.

Also, the bathroom ... which had sensor lights would go black on you even when you were moving. The shower is a push button that runs scalding hot water on you for about a minute and then turns off. There's no temp control and you can only push the button about 4 times before it won't turn on anymore. Yeah ... fantastic. I never made it to more than 2 pushes on the button because my skin couldn't handle the 2nd degree burns and I just said "F it."

At 4am the lights to the entire building would magically come on and all we could do was cover our heads with the scratchy green blankets that were supplied to us (THANK GOODNESS).

I shared a room with a Master Sergeant who said when she arrived it was filthy and she had scrubbed the room down before I had arrived. There were no fridges or microwaves ... except one in the  common area on the other side of the building. People are staying here for days on end and you can't get them a fridge? Needless to say ... some black ops shit went down and we magically had a fridge and microwave appear. Though, a puddle of water also appeared under our acquired fridge the next morning that may have cause a slight panic as well ...

Guys, I complain. I know. But I can't make this shit up. The Army has been good to my family ... but it also has been shit. I guess that's how the world goes and you have to take the bad with the good.

Don't even get me started on the "Camp Crystal Lake" living quarters in the hills of FHL.

For everyone who thinks, "Be thankful my tax dollars are paying for all this." - Meh, not all that money is going to "spoil" us. We are roughing it. And you can believe me when I say this, I am one of the lucky ones. There are many other service members who have lived in dirt holes and ate horrible, stomach wrenching foods, bathed in unclean waters, and who have seen horrible things throughout their military careers. My complaints are moot compared to their struggles.

Thank a service member... even if never deployed - they've endured hell when it comes to living in barracks.

Make it Work | Werkit Out Wednesday

I went to Fort Bragg for a (almost) month long TDY. I was staying in a hotel that had a gym ... but the  "gym" had a treadmill, a stationary bike, and a mat. 

That's it.

I was like, "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?!"

I did run the treadmill a couple times. But I hated it. Yes, there was a TV but you can only stay content running in one place for so long. I think the longest I ran was 2 miles on that thing.

I tried the bike ... but meh. Same thing. I'm not cut out for stationary workout equipment. I'm just not that person.

I was in NC when Hurricane Florence decided to rear her ugly head. We had odd clouds, sprinkling ( and later drenching) rains but for the most part. We got lucky. 

There was flooding after the storm due to overfull rivers and low lying lands. 

BUT leading up to the storm and during ... it wasn't so bad.

I say this because ... this is another excuse used a lot when it comes to not working out. 

The weather.

(and lack of equipment)

Welp, ladies (and gents) - I made a good 30 minute workout using only this:

and these:

How you may ask??

I sprinted the length of the hotel parking lot.

Did tricep dips off the tiny curb ...

"Kettlebell swings" with this concrete block thingy ...

AND REPEATED x4.

Until it started to rain on me ... and then I headed indoors to the echoing stairwell and ran these 8 steps multiple times. 

I was sweaty and I was tired and I burned about 200 calories. 

Guys. It's possible.

Weather was against me. The equipment wasn't there.... 

But I did it! You can too!

Werkit out!

Involve the Kids | ‘Werkit Out Wednesday

I know, I know, I haven't been posting my workouts on here for you guys. I've been sucking at that lately. But never fear -- I have been working out and just wanted to give you guys some words of encouragement.

Plus, one tip.

I don't want to workout everyday. And so I don't. 

Sometimes I feel bad about it. Sometimes I'm like, "That was a good choice." 

The kids are cranky. I'm tired. The television is very welcoming. The phone's glow is intriguing. 

I mean there are numerous excuses I can tell you why I didn't workout.

The kicker though? What am I reflecting upon my children by making up these excuses .... and mostly because I use them as the excuse the majority of the time.

I'm not being the best role model I can be. And I mean, I can have rough days. Sick Days. Mental Days. I can, but one turns into two turns into a week turns into a 3 month cookie binge. 

This is MY personal experience. You know you best. But for me - excuses get the best of me. (turning  me in the worst of me)

Here's the most important part of this post though, you don't have to blame the kids make excuses.

You can be a great role model AND get your workout on!

How?

GET YOUR KIDS INVOLVED!

What are you saying Shari?!

I know, it sounds counterproductive. I know my kiddos drive me nuts when I'm trying to workout. They magically want every snack in the house that they CAN'T reach. They need their butt wiped. They want my to read to them. I have become their personal jungle gym. I mean, I could go on and on.

But the number one reason why moms don't work out (in my non-statistically/non-fact checking brain logic) is that they say they have no time because the kids take up all their free time.

Well, get them involved! I mean it!

You guys know already, that I push mine in the stroller all the time. But sometimes they just wanna workout with you and that's okay! You may not be doing as heavy a lift. Or as many rounds/reps you wanted - but you're moving. You're bonding.

That's what a postpartum (ANY) workout is all about!

I know my middle boy always wants to work out (to some extent) with me and I know my little girl is always curious as to why mommy is all sweaty! ;) My eldest runs 5ks with me and even though he complains 80% of the way, he loves crossing that finish line and earning that medal.

1st place in his age group during the El Paso/Mexico International Run!

You're teaching them the importance of self-love and perseverance. You're teaching them to take care of their bodies and to be strong both physically and mentally. You are being the role model they deserve and need.

So get them involved!

In Need of a Momma Moment | Raising the Boys

Guys, it's been a rough few months. 

I mean R.O.U.G.H.

I was starting to think that life was going to get a little easier for our family. We welcomed a little girl into this family of chaos - thinking - HOPING she'd bring a little calm into it.

We love the hell out of her. The boys treat her like a princess. My heart is full.

But it doesn't erase all the chaos. It really does add to it.

The ADHD doesn't magically disappear. The Autism doesn't fade away into nothing. The high pitched tantrums don't quiet down. The pushing, the shoving, the bickering, the big brother/little brother struggle just continues.

You think you have it all together one moment. You're juggling the stroller in one hand with the wiggling baby on the other hip. The boys are standing next to you and not arguing and everyone is smiling.

The next second, the middle boy is body slamming the older boy. The baby now is in full blown arched back, scream crying and the older boy now has the middle boy in a head lock ... in front of your acquaintances whom you wish would become close friends but know you'll never have a Thelma and Louis type of friendship because ... well...

Your children.

Wait what?

You're blaming your children?

Yeah. Maybe. Maybe I am.

I feel like no one really, truly understands what goes on in my household. I try so hard to keep a smile on my face and pretend like like I'm strong and will never give up. I confine to one or two of my friends but I still get the feeling they still don't understand. If there was a hidden camera in my household, I'd either be locked up or have a really amazing, six figured contract deal for a reality TV show.

But all I want right now is a proud momma moment. I just want one of those moments when the kid(s) does something so amazing that I can say, "I'm so proud of him." "I'd like to bragg on my boy(s) for a minute."

You start to notice you aren't getting invited to playdates anymore. You start to notice that eye contact doesn't happen very much any more in your social group. Jealously kicks in when pictures on social media pop up of people you think are amazing and you THOUGHT you were getting close ... but really ... you're not. Because, well - you're not in the picture of that fun outing. Nope. You're stuck at home because you think the world is against you.

I thought I was going to be this amazing mom. I was going to be crafty, cool, someone to confine in, and just all around awesome. But reality came a-knocking ... I'm a hot mess.

I'm so tired of complaining about my children. I don't know how you happy, peppy, look on the brighter side moms do it. I seriously look up to you so much. I strive to be like you. I try so, so, so hard to be like you. I want to be in the "in-crowd." I want to be the mom that meets up with the other moms at school drop off and shoot the shit about what we did as a group that past weekend.

Instead, I push the double stroller up to the door, smile politely, wait for the door to open and hurriedly hug my hyper boy goodbye as he hops happily into the school. I share pleasantries as I push the stroller back home and wallow in my miseries as I munch on snacks, edit a photo or two for my business, do some social media posts and call it "marketing" and then get the baby ready to pick up the boys from school ... continuing to pretend that our family isn't a complete sham on social media.

I know what we see on social media and most of the time out in public isn't the whole story. No, not every family is smiling and getting along. No, not every mom has it together. No, not every child is perfectly behaved all the time. I get it. But why do we not share the horrible moments? Why don't we come together to share what a shitty day we had or the horrible tantrum that was thrown. Or the bottle of wine you picked up on the hectic grocery run just to help take off the stress? The little bit of whiskey we throw in our morning coffee to help us through the day. Or the chocolate we have hidden in a locked case above our closet. Or the chips we silently (as much as we can) crunch in the back room to drown out the arguing in the front room.

We all want that proud momma moment to have other moms and parents to be like "oh damn, she's got her shit together." That's why we only share the "good moments" on social media (the majority of us at least). And when we few share the hard times, we get ridiculed by other moms. "Why would you share that?" "Why would you boast about that?" "You know, you really shouldn't say things like that." "Can you believe that's how she handled that?"

And that's why people only want to share the things they did "right" -- according to society that is ...

I'm ready to show my proud momma moment ... whenever it comes ... hopefully ....

How do y'all look to the brighter side? How do you continue trucking on when motherhood just seems to be sucking? I'd love to hear how y'all manage not going crazy.

Accommodations Don't Have to be Made | My Hot Mess

I know this won't go over well with everyone ... shit, it really does't go over well with me. But I have been thinking on this subject and well -- it needs to be said.

News Flash:

I don't have to accommodate for you. 

GASP.

"But Shari, what do you mean? I need you bend to my every need and will."

Nope.

What if I told you, you don't have to accommodate for me.

"Whaaaaaaat?"

I know right?

In today's society, we are forced to be politically correct. We are forced to bend to everyone's needs and we forget that well ... unless the law tells us to, we really don't have to.

Is it morally right to do?

Sure.

Is it ethically right to do?

Yeah.

But do I have to do it?

Nope.

I don't have to hold the door open for you even though you're carrying five billion bags in your hands.

I don't have to move to the right when I see you walking down the path towards me to ensure there's room for both of us.

I don't have to wait in line for the bathroom.

I don't HAVE to give you a refund.

I don't have to apologize when I'm in the wrong. Shit, I don't even have to admit I was wrong.

I don't have to do anything for you.

But I will and I do.

It's morally the right thing to do. It makes me feel better about myself knowing that I helped out another person. I held that door open for you ... and even though you don't have to say thank you ... you should. I moved over to the right with my big ass double stroller to make room for you to jog by alone, you should at least smile at me - I know exercise and talking isn't my best quality but a smile should suffice. I waited in line for the bathroom because it was the right thing to do ... even though I had a pee-pee dancing toddler next to me. I gave you a refund because, even though in my contract I said no refund if the client cancels, because I want to practice good business skills and didn't wanna lose more clients because of the hassle. I apologized when I was wrong because you mean the world to me and I don't want to you lose you because of a stupid argument.

See? That's how it's supposed to work.

I'm not saying I'm a push over, but don't demand anything of me. Because I don't owe you a thing in this world. I simply stay polite and bite my tongue because this world needs a little more sunshine and lot less darkness right now.

Our society believes that they need everything handed to them. I'm not just talking about the millennials y'all. I love the millennials - those emo, punk loving, hippie millennials. I'm talking all of us.

I got pissed the other day because our cable service is totally a monopoly in our city and charges way too much, has not a lick of customer service, and basically I'm out an extra $50 because if I cancel with them, I won't have anymore internet or cartoons to babysit  keep my kids busy. I was PISSED. But again, the cable company owes me nothing (other than good customer service). I don't HAVE to use them, but it's kinda needed in my family. So I do. Do I like it? No. Would I recommend them to anyone? No. Are we going to use them when we move to another state? No. Are they practicing good business strategies?? No. But they don't owe me a damn thing.

So I'll sit here on my internet cursing their name BUT I accept that they suck. And it sucks. But life sometimes sucks too.

What am I blabbing about?

Just be nice to people! 

They don't owe you anything. You don't owe them. You don't know their life. They don't know yours.

Live you life and try to spread happiness rather than hate.

**Stepping off my soap box**

A Very Un-Birthday | My Hot Mess

I just had my 34th birthday. I've been on this earth for 34 years. That's a pretty big accomplishment.

I mean ... it is.

So when did it go from "yay! it's my birthday!" to "eh, it's just another day?"

My husband asked what I wanted for my birthday.

I actually said "nothing." Like NOTHING. I guess I was trying to be humble or some shit.

What in the actual hell??

Birthdays as you get older are just not as fun. When did we stop having fun? When did we stop expecting gifts? When did stop having parties and celebrating ourselves?

When we got old.

I mean, I understand that we have bills. We have adult things we need to be doing rather than partying it up. But what the hell.

Remember turning three? You told everyone in the store it was your birthday, all the strangers. You told everyone at school. You told the mail main. You told EVERYONE it was your birthday.

Shit - my toddler has been planning his 5th birthday for months ... he still has 2 more months to go. And yet, we know what we are doing for his birthday. All of his friends have been talking about who's party is next and what the theme and cake will be.

The day you were born is special. The day I was born is special. So why downplay it?

I want my mother fucking cake and blow the candles out. ALL 34 OF THEM. When I'm 89 years old ... I want to start a flipping fire with the candles on my cake. I want to jump in a bouncy house and I want to slide down the slip and slide. I want to drink alcohol like I did when I turned 18 21 ...

I want to open presents DAMMIT.

It's the day I celebrate my life.

It's the best fucking day ever.

Half-Assing it | Girl Boss

I joke around a lot about being a procrastinator. 

But if anyone REALLY knows me. They know it's not a joke. 

I AM an procrastinator.

Am I proud about it? Meh. I mean ... I've accepted the fact that I will always wait last minute. But I really do need to get better at planning and organizing my life. But if the job gets done ... why change?

Granted, I also have accepted that if I actually worked towards accomplishments a little harder ... I'd be more successful. I'd have more accreditations. I'd probably have more money. I might go on more vacations. I could probably afford a nanny and maid. 
Meh.
Am I comfortable where I'm at?
Yes. 
And that might be the issue. 
I've had a pretty easy life. Things seem to always work out for me and I've been really lucky. Jobs, schooling, and opportunities just happen to fall in my lap. And if something didn't - I'd take the hit and move on. 
Don't get me wrong. I have worked hard in my life to get where I am. If I want it, I get it. I've had failures but I haven't dwelled in them. I think why I love journalism and the media work life is that I was always given a deadline. I always made deadline. Always. Don't matter how I made the deadline - but I made it. It may have been the last 5 minutes I wrote the story - but I made deadline. I may have drank 5 cups of coffee to hit that deadline - but I made it.
The best business practice? Probably not. But it works for me.
I need to stop and work harder. I know that. 
What do you guys do to change a habit? How do you stay on task? How do you ensure you're always putting your most effort into something? How do you work from home and on your own schedule?
Please, I'd love to hear from you!

Parenting is Hard | Raising the Boys

*Disclaimer: I understand I now have a daughter - but the boys are still the main focus of this section ... they have a little bit more attitude at the moment and lot more laughable moments. Soon she may have her own section or added to this section. But Not just yet - we shall see how her personality grows!

Did I miss the instruction manual section when we were discharged from the hospital? 

Did you guys get one?

You know what I'm talking about.

The "How to be the coolest parent ever and raise a perfect gentleman" book?

No?

There's no "Easy Button?"

'Cause I'd pay a pretty penny to just push the easy button right about now.

Y'all should know about my Autistic/ADHD preteen by now, and if not HERE is the link. I feel like I'm going to be constantly looking at him with  the "What the hell is your problem" facial expression for the rest of my life. The second I feel like I'm understanding him and getting him - he turns around with another issue or quirk that has me second guessing why I decided to become a mother.

Then there's the four year old who's finding his own place in the family. He's now the middle child and he is making it real apparent that he will not be "forgotten" or "pushed aside." We would never do that intentionally, but you know how the stereotype is when it comes to the middle child. His attitude and antagonizing ways of late have been - to say the least - getting on my last nerve.

If you happen to find my patience ... can you please tell her come back? Could really use her sound judgment and constant reminding that these boys are learning. They're learning to be decent humans while trying to find their own in this crazy world.

Parenting is Hard y'all.

I question why I decided becoming a parent was a good thing. I think being the cool aunt who does fun and exciting things with her nephews would've suited me better AND helped keep me sane. I'm pretty sure if our neighbors ever reported me to law - I'd be admitted for insanity. These boys are killing me. Forget them living to 18 years old ... I may not see them turn 18 years old.

Even though the doc says I'm in great health, I feel like my blood pressure should be through the roof. I feel like my mental health has declined and I feel like I'm physically deteriorating because of the stress and hassle I put up with every single day. If it wasn't for the help of friends, family, and my husband for allowing my to do "me time" every so often - I'd be dead. Seriously.

I've read multiple parenting books ... I normally don't make it through them because my ideas of parenting and there's don't align. I've gone to multiple therapy appointments and tried multiple strategies to keep the chaos to a minimum in my family. I've tried family meetings, I've tried the "yes method," I've tried no yelling - I've tried yelling. We've spanked and we've done time outs. I've done the "how do you feel about your actions" strategy and I've done the "no" strategy. We have multiple behavior, chore, and goal charts. I have a "write 3 good things that happened today" journal and I have this blog. I'm running out of ideas, wall space and patience ... well the patience is gone. What else is there to do?

Then there's moments when we are sitting on the couch and my toddler curls up next me and falls asleep on my shoulder. Or when he walks up to me and hugs me. The other day a friend overheard him say that he had the best mom ever. I mean ... that must mean I'm doing something right .... right?

Or when my preteen finally looks me in the eye and says, "That was the best family hike we've ever went on. It was really fun." Or when he picks up his little sister when she's crying and comforts her. When a complete stranger compliments him on his good manners or looks at me and says, "you're doing a good job with this young man."

There's something going right in this house I suppose.

Parenting is hard. When do we truly know what we are doing with our children is the right thing? When will the "reward" outweigh the hard times? I'm told I'll miss these days of them being young and running around the house. I believe these fairy tales ... I really do. But they are also very hard to imagine at this point in my parenting life. We shall see.

We shall see.

When the Shit Hits the Fan | Loving Him

I don't know how you single parents do it.

You guys rock. 

I mean, you really do!

I understand you get into your routines and you set the rules ... you're in charge and don't have to rely on someone else's opinion or routines.

BUT

What do you do when the shit hits the fan??

Like -- The car breaks down just before football practice and you think you walk there but you actually had the wrong address ... so now you just walked a mile away from the house with your 11 year old son and 4 year old toddler to find out you're in the wrong place and won't be making the practice after all - which your eldest has been losing forward to all week and now you have to walk all the way back home with a whiny toddler who's tired and a pissed off preteen. Oh not to mention, that morning you walked 3.5 miles to get your toddler to dance class only to find out it was canceled and you missed the phone call from the teacher because you were busy WALKING/PUSHING the big ass double stroller to post to make it on time for the flipping dance class.  Oh and then throw a sick infant into the mix ... yeah.

The only thing that could've made it worse ... a broken full bottle of wine on your kitchen floor and your husband calls from his TDY to ask "How'd your day go?"

Yeah.

How the hell do you handle that EVERY SINGLE DAY!?

Having an extra set of hands around the house is so awesome. It really is. I lucked out when it came to finding my forever mate. He's pretty awesome.

But why the fuck does everything pile up when he's gone?!

Like, seriously? The truck couldn't break down when he was here? Like - seriously?

We are a two car family. We are lucky. BUT this week - he took the second vehicle on TDY. So we only had the ONE vehicle.

This comes to another round of applause...

Here's to the single car families!!!

You guys are amazing. Getting everyone to work, to school, to activities, back to pick up from school, pickup from work, back home.... etc. You guys are super humans. You really are. I was exhausted and could not wait for the truck to be fixed.

I understand that when it's a way of life, you make it happen. If you only have one car - you figure it out. If you're the only parent - you figure it. I get it.

But when life suddenly changes and you're down a job, down a car, down a parent, down SOMETHING. Why does it seem everything else hits the fan too? Is it the extra stress? You only look at the negative now? How do you guys surpass the "FML" feeling and get shit done? Because I was about to just say F it and run away!

No joke!

Going Gray | My Hot Mess

I'mma give it to you straight folks ... I've been seeing gray strands of "glitter" in my hair since I was 16/17 years old. Guys ... I was so embarrassed of my strands. Friends would comment on it all the time and finally, I got fed up and took one of my mom's boxed hair dyes and dyed my hair.

And I have been dying my hair ever since.

My typical "chair" pose for when I'd visit the salons. But I didn't always go to the salons. In fact, I didn't start going to actual salons until I was in the Army and had the money to actually pay for it. But even then, I still fell back on boxed hair dye.

To me, nothing is wrong with that. I grew up watching my mother dye her hair and many of my aunts dyed their hair. (I have a lot ... of aunts due to big families on both parents' sides.) It was natural to me - to do the unnatural thing and dye my hair.

Hair dye in the box ... store bought costs anything from $4 to what ... $10? If you just went to a normal store like Target or Walmart. I was too nervous to buy the real dye at Sally's or Ulta. Plus, who had money for that?!

It was easy, I could do it in the privacy of my home and no one knew the same. Unless I went too long between dyes and some arrogant boy (I say boy, because it was mostly them pointing out my flaws) would ask, "You graying, Shari?"

**Insert eye roll**


I would soon grow to call my grays "glitter" until one day (much into my 20s) a guy I went to college with said, "Eh, it shows your wisdom."

So, they became my wisdom glitter.

But I was still ashamed of them. I don't know if it was the fact that society associates gray hair to being or becoming "old" or what. My mom always dyed her hair. I had friends who dyed there hair for fun. I didn't think anything was wrong with it. I still don't. I feel like it's your hair and you can do what ever you want to it and not care what others think.

But that's easier said than done. Right? I mean, it's hard to be confident in your own scalp when there's always someone saying,

"Your graying already?"
"How old ARE you?"
"Haven't had the chance to dye your grays yet?"
"You're getting older, aren't you?"
"You're too young to have that much gray."
"Wait, is that gray in your hair?"

Guys ... I've heard all that. And more but I painfully blocked most comments from my brain. Did it hurt to hear that? Yeah, it did. Why? Because most came from close friends or coworkers. People you'd think would like/love ya no matter what.

My hair has been dyed so many colors I don't even remember what my natural color is!

 

I've been light brown, dark brown, black and mostly red. I've had blonde highlights (to hide the gray), purple, bayalage highlights. You name it, I've been it ... except really blonde. Didn't have the gumption to bleach my hair all the way. (I had a picture made with my face in the 'I dream of Jeannie' booth in Vegas. Her blonde hair didn't look good on my 12/13 year old face, and both mom and I decided blonde was not for me.)

I blamed Army life stress, my ridiculous kids, stupid hormones, horrible genetics.... my love for cookies ... for going gray so fast.

My husband would always joke that I should let my hair go and become his "silver fox." I'd giggle and brush it aside.

Well. No more.

This picture was of my long, red hair just before my third child was born. You can't really see the "skunk" roots on top, but I had a shit ton because I didn't want to dye my hair while pregnant. For my maternity picture, (the day prior) I used Photoshop to get rid of the roots.

I started to dig the roots... and decided that when I had the baby I'd schedule with my hairdresser and remove the red. And MAYBE keep my roots.

Maybe.



Under the heat lamp I went. I was at the salon for 5 hours getting the red I had had for years out of my hair. I was there FOREVER.

But, I chickened out of keeping my roots. we decided to go with a more ashy brown with highlights ... to blend the grey when they'd come back.

Mom said this was the closest to my natural hair color and loved it on me.

What do you think? ;) Pretty darn close ... minus the bayalage highlights.

But, just like clockwork, 3 weeks into my new color and this started to happen.

Started to look like Rogue from the Xmen again. (I get my grays in stripes it seems. A few of my friends always complimented me when I'd show my streaks. And I thank them for that now because before I'd just shrug them off. With out those compliments ... I wouldn't have been able to do this...)

I finally had the courage to say, "Let's do it." To my hairdresser and 8 hours later ... he striped all my color (or at least most of it), and gave me some ashy undertones. He told me that on top of my head I was 100% gray. But the underneath didn't get the message and said about 60% gray. So he blended and did his wizardry and viola!

I was so nervous going home.

What if my husband didn't like it? I knew he'd never tell me. What if my kids thought I looked ridiculous? What if I didn't like it?!

And to be honest, it took a while. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw an old lady. Guys, I'm only 33! I didn't share that above picture on social media for FOUR days! I shared with my best friend via text and with a few of my workout buddies (because well, it's hard to share when you seem them every other day). But that was it. I was so scared of what people would say.

But you know what? I haven't had a bad comment yet and it's been a month and a half. (well, at least to my face). 

I was spending $100-$160 every 4-6 weeks (if I pushed it) and why? To please how other people thought of me. Yes, dying my hair made me feel better too but really, it was for society. I feel so free right now. My roots are showing and are about 2.5 inches long. Like.... what?! LOL I would have NEVER had that much. I mean shit, I purchased colored hair spray for my BFF's wedding while I was pregnant because I couldn't deal with the gray roots.

Now, I'm not going to lie. Striping my hair damaged my hair fairly good. I'm struggling to repair it BUT I have had help along the way. This movement of "Going Grey Gracefully" and "Gray and Proud" has given me sooooo much support to continue on my journey. These ladies are doing it  naturally and I commend them! They are so strong, brave and inspirational.

I want to share my journey with you to hopefully help you decide your hair path. I'll admit, going gray isn't for everyone. Believe me, I know. And I'm in no way knocking all my gray sisters who dye their hair still. But I will tell ya, I feel so free right now. I will only see my hair dresser now for trims and even though I like the guy and appreciate his talent ... I don't like giving him ALL my money. hahaha!

So this is my journey and I hope you guys stick around to see where it leads. And hopefully helps you in your decision on GOING GRAY.