Tis the Season | My Hot Mess

Guys, we knew the day was going to come.

I mean, at least THIS time, we knew.

Learning that we were PCSing last time was a shocker. We weren't expecting it because well, Fort Bragg is the only place - LITERALLY THE ONLY PLACE - my husband can be stationed due to his job. So when we found out he was going to become a recruiter and move to El Paso. We were shocked. (read about our first PCS here)

However, this time.

We were ready.

Or at least - expecting it.

I don't think anyone can truly be ready to pack up all their stuff, children and lives and move somewhere. There's always going to be that "oh shit" stage, the "we've got this" stage, and the "Welp, here's goes nothing" stage.

Luckily for us, we knew we would be back at Bragg, because as mentioned above. It's the only place we can go. So we know where we went to live. We know what schools we want the children to go to. We have friends there already and we know our way around the city.

For all you guys who got to different places every three years, you are rock stars. You truly are.

My husband got his order about 3 weeks ago. In hand. I mean, that's amazing. We didn't get order until 4 weeks before we were TO MOVE last time.

So we have the date we must be back at Bragg ... so right now I think I'm in the pre-oh shit stage. Meaning, I know what I have to do ... but meh, I've got 4 months.

I know that's not the right answer, but that's where I'm at. Give me about three weeks and I'll probably get to the "Oh Shit" stage ramped up 7 times because then I'll be freaking out getting all the stuff ready for movers to come.

Even though this will be our second time PCSing, I still feel like I have no clue what to do or how to prepare. I did print off a check list in which I got from an awesome Etsy shop (you can see HERE) again and will be putting together our PCS binder once more.

I will be starting to de-clutter and getting ready for a makeshift garage sell again. I will be forcing helping my kids go through their toys and stuff again and I will be pepping the rental for return.

But that time has yet to come for me. I mean, I am a procrastinator and trying to limit my stress y'all.

I dunno how this will go this time, but I will be sure to keep you posted on our PCS adventures once more!

Hang on to your knickers ladies and gents .... it's going to be chaotic and one hot mess.

I CAN guarantee that!

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.

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.

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.

10 Days with the Elf | My Hot Mess

Do y'all have an Elf on the Shelf? You do?

Why?

Because I ask myself that every year when December hits.

History lesson about Pearl Harbor

At first it was FUN. I got to see the joy in my eldest's eye when he spotted Raheem ... that's the name he gave our elf ... When he'd spot Raheem in a different location every day.

Then this happened in 2016 ... the Dogs knocked over Raheem and ... well, we are lucky to say that Raheem managed to get away with just a small "scar" on his cheek and a tore up hat... in which the North Pole Doctor AKA MOM - had to fix.

Acts of kindness (Elf Mission) that only the kids can read.

But shit, that gave me an excuse not to move the little bast... ahem, elf, for TWO WHOLE DAYS!

Game of hide and seek with candy canes.

And then, when he COULD "move" I half-assed it. Well, not really, I should've but why be half-assed when you can be great?! Crafts and window clings ... you can't go wrong with that!

Harry Potter was a definite hit ... but to my surprise not as "cool" as my Spiderman shot a few years back.

See? That's the problem with the Elf on the Shelf.

You have to be careful how cool you go because these kids expect Raheem to do something FANTASTIC every night. And does it even curb their naughty-ness?

NO.

The answer is NO.

Sure, Suzy may act right for you. Or Jose for you.

But my kids?

Pft.

Nope.

He left trees to plant for next Christmas... or years from now. But We still haven't planted the seeds...

Why do I even bother?

Because I want them to enjoy being creative as much as I do.

Is it working?

Hell, I have no clue. But I sure hope it is.

Because these first 10 days with Raheem has been a bitch. And I know you guys feel my pain.

And why, oh why, does the Elf get all the damn credit?!

I'll share the last 10 days with Raheem in 2016 soon! Until then, have your Elf break a leg or 

something. ;)

For more ideas for your Elf follow me on Facebook and/or check out past blogs on our Elf HERE! Or HERE. AND HERE. 

A Change in the Mix | My Hot Mess

We are in deep doo-doo here guys.

I haven't blogged in a while because, well, I did a thing.

Actually,

BIRTHED a thing.

A GIRL.

Guys, we have gone from a family of a husband, a wife, two boys, two male dogs and a male cat to adding another female in the mix.

A human baby girl.

I'm no longer a mommy of boys!

Not only do I have to get used to having three children, but I gotta get used to all the girlie things.

Which let's be honest, is amazing. Like, I'm not too set on society norms ... pink means girl, blue means boy kinda shit. But I mean, it IS different having a baby girl in the house now.

And I love it.

Like, my two loud, obnoxious, rough boys are learning to be gentle and more "soft."

.... As much as an ADHD hormonal boy can and a (now) FOUR year old can.

Maybe she will bring calm to our world. Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice -- right?

A momma can hope right?

Even up to my last night being pregnant, walking up to the hospital, I wasn't 100% convinced the tiny human growing inside me was a girl. After all... I had the shirt and all!

Sure, we had bought a few girlie things. An outfit here, a pink bow there ... but the majority of the "stuff" we got was still gender neutral (or hand me downs from the boys). I was just too afraid to commit to the ultra sound that said "Girl." I mean, after all, I WAS a momma of boys. 

People thought I was crazy when I posted the Instagram pic that said the gender was in an envelope and wouldn't be opened for another month or two until we had our photo session. 

"I couldn't last that long!"

"How are you not peeking at the envelope?"

"It would eat me up inside not knowing!"

It was fairly easy to not look at the envelope, one - I put it where it wasn't in plain view. Two - we went a whole pregnancy not knowing what my youngest was last time. We found out his gender when I pushed him out of my belly. And three - I was convinced it was a boy anyway.

So lemme tell you my surprise when this happened:

We let the boys spray silly string to let us know if we were having a boy or girl. I had bought both blue and pink string and covered both with silver paper so we wouldn't know once the lids were off. 

Our photographer looked at the envelope away from us to ensure we couldn't see her slip the lids off and on the count of three, we were dosed in pink silly string. 

I couldn't believe it. The photographer showed me the ultra sound ... and I still didn't believe it. LOL

I had to go back for another ultra sound due to little miss not wanting to show her profile for the doc in the first ultra sound, and even then they double checked her sex ... still a girl they said. But even then, there was no way I was having a girl. Why? Because I wanted a girl so bad, but I was a momma of boys. Every time someone asked if I knew what I was having, I'd respond, "They say a girl. But nothing is final until the baby comes out!" People would giggle, but I was completely serious. Completely.

And then this little nugget came out. The first thing I asked as everyone was oh-ing and aw-ing when she came out, "Is it a girl?" No one answered. My husband was misty eyed as they put her on my chest. I lifted her up and checked in between her legs, sure enough. I was a momma of a girl now.

Why am I telling y'all this? Because I feel like a brand new momma. Sure I have the experience of how to travel with a baby, change a diaper, breastfeed ... etc ... but I have a girl now. I've never experienced taking care of a girl... at least my own little princess. 

Guys, it really is different! I have to say "she," "her," and everything! LOL and "my little girl," "my daughter" everything is different. And I love it. I really can't explain it. The boys will always have a piece of my heart and the little one that didn't make it, BUT this little rainbow girl has got me wrapped around her finger already!

I will probably have a section just for her in the blog because she has her own story to share, along with her big brothers.

So bring on the pink bows, the unicorns, the princesses, the dolls and the glitter - I'm ready. And you better believe she'll be just as tough and rough as the boys because momma don't raise no sissy-la-las. 

Where'd My Happy Go? | My Hot Mess

Lemme explain something:

I'm happy. I really, truly am.

BUT --

It has been a while since I've really, truly FELT happy.

I've had many moments throughout these past few months after the move that I've felt happiness.

I've made friends, no one super close, but we haven't even been here a year yet - so I'm good with what I have thus far. I work out with them, I hang out with them, the kids enjoy each other; so they're friends for sure.

The house has been fine, nothing perfect, but nothing horrible. The pictures are hung and they make me smile as I move from room to room. The dogs have claimed their shaded spots in the yard, and even the cat had been more friendly.

My husband's job is stressful, but fulfilling. He has made a relationship with his coworkers and he's part of the Team RWB softball team. -- which I have become heavily affiliated with. I'm the community engagement director (community service) for our city's group.

The boys enjoy horseback riding, golf and tumbling. School is hectic, and well ... to be honest, that hasn't brought me any kind of happiness, BUT my eldest has made friends there.

My business is going. Nothing spectacular but again, I've only been in business here 9 months ... what do you expect.

We are expecting baby #3 in the Fall and we couldn't be any more excited. Will it be another crazy boy or will we get to buy bows and ribbons??

So, on the outside, everything seems to be falling into place. I SHOULD be happy. I SHOULD know where my happy is.

But guys, I don't know where I put it. I've lost it somewhere between the move, school trouble, family stress, personal doubt, and of course - appearing to have it all together. FYI - I don't.

I thought yoga was my start to finding my happy again, and it a way, it has. However, my free place to practice has now changed to a place 45 mins away (an hour with traffic) and once you get there, parking is a bitch and by the time I get to yoga - I'm so stressed out, that the session is just a bust. I haven't been in about a month and a half. Why don't I do it at home? Psh.... you try finding your happy with a 3 year old running around!

I've also really dug into essential oils. I've relying heavily on lavender to calm me and others to purify my home. I joke that I need a practicing Wiccan (or a priest) to come purify my home ... but I think there is some sense of truth behind my jokes. I had a friend volunteer to "smudge" my home. I need to hit her up and have her do that ASAP.

I have even looked into the healing "powers" of stones/gems. Guys ... I'm not a hippie-dippie  person. I'm not. And when yogi's start chanting and bringing out the drums ... I start to giggle. But guys, I'm willing to try anything to find my happy again.

A friend (check her out HERE) started making lava rock/bead bracelets that you can drop essential oils on and what not. Not only are they gorgeous but she also took a suggestion of mine and used howlite beads (for anxiety and calmness) and of course, chakra beads! ... I'm wearing the shit outta her bracelets. I think I'm going to buy up all her stock ... every other day I'm asking her for another sized bracelet! I got three for me, one for my eldest and one for my husband.

Dammit, we are going to find our happy. 

I don't believe I'm in a depressed state of mind, I think its just the stress of raising a defiant child, chasing a toddler, growing a baby, loving a husband ... and still making dinner. I mean, I guess every one still has to eat! ;)

Like I said, there have been moments of joy and happiness, but for some reason, it doesn't stick around. I need that sucker to stop disappearing on me! Where'd I put that super glue?

How do you find your happy? How do you keep it?