tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83851988271939217412024-02-22T14:02:53.041-06:00Random Ramblings of a Crazy Red HeadA Sometimes Daily Account of My often Boring LifeAshleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-53828415172567386782011-04-02T19:25:00.000-05:002011-04-04T12:50:28.030-05:00No. 2Do I get snaps for not spending my several blog posts complaining about being pregnant or all the fun things that go along with it? It's been a struggle. I know there are lots of women out there that love being pregnant. That find it to be this amazing experience, indulge in all of their cravings, and relish the excuse to not do certain things and taking it easy. Confession: I am not one of those women. I'm not a happy pregnant person. Shocker I know... I love the end result, but I find pregnancy annoying. Just ask my husband. He will confess to my craziness these last 9 months. The rage one minute and the unexplainable crying the next (I'm not a chick who cries over little things..). Hormones: don't try them at home. One day while at the office, I day dreamed for quite sometime about body slamming my New York boss for giving me his unsolicited opinion... not a rational thought. At all. Apparently don't try hormones at work either.<br /><br />I am fortunate. My pregnancy has progressed without incident..other than the usual. I haven't even really had any strange cravings. My weight gain has been less than with Cole, whom I gained more than 50lbs with...I am eager to meet my son and nervous at the same time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvE9uz31KH4AfjGIHUVvX5-LjjkMbYywsA3O3CbBzDltwdnTA8vJwKymECVK5HgJqYMJnNSs2v72ih8Up0jPg8aJuYxRsupO8GxUQuzXqf2IpR3aTGZ8RGvTk1SsvcaiYEnWAKMBmmHMQ/s1600/Cole+%2526+I+wedding.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvE9uz31KH4AfjGIHUVvX5-LjjkMbYywsA3O3CbBzDltwdnTA8vJwKymECVK5HgJqYMJnNSs2v72ih8Up0jPg8aJuYxRsupO8GxUQuzXqf2IpR3aTGZ8RGvTk1SsvcaiYEnWAKMBmmHMQ/s200/Cole+%2526+I+wedding.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583968277241882242" /></a><br /><br />I know my relationship with this son will be completely different than my relationship with Cole and I find myself perplexed. Cole was a fairly easy baby. Happy most of the time. He has been an easy toddler. I absolutely adore him and he's my pride and joy... (though there are those moments where he makes me want to bang my head on a brick wall..) Cole likes to talk A LOT and while it's endearing, sometimes I just look at him and say "Bubba you don't have to fill every moment with words.." He usually smiles at me and says "Mommy, I just have a wot to say..."<br /><br />When Cole was born, it was eye opening. I expected more for him than I did for myself...and that led to some life altering changes. So I find myself wondering how will this son change me? There's really nothing left to do but sit back and enjoy the ride...if activity in the womb is any indicator, this kid is going to be wild and I'm in trouble. But I'm so ready to meet him and discover what sort of little personality has been developing within him. <br /><br />Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-53232051505573564122011-03-03T23:00:00.002-06:002011-03-08T10:43:23.193-06:00SamuelSometimes there are things going on in your life that are so deeply personal, that you hesitate to write about them… Those things where you literally pray to God “I do not understand how you could have let this happen” My pastor and friend, when I’ve expressed these feelings, always reassures me by telling me “He can handle it,” and somehow I don’t feel like as bad of a Christian for having these thoughts and/or negotiations with God.<br /><br />When I found out Jay and I were pregnant, it clearly wasn’t planned. In fact, we were taking measures to prevent pregnancy. So much for 99% effectiveness..I feel like I should wear some sort of name tag that identifies me as the poster child for 1%. Regardless, we struggled with it, prayed about it and as the weeks went on realized what an amazing blessing it was. I think I was still in the process of “accepting” my own pregnancy when my brother called. I was drying Cole off after his bath… “Ash? Guess what…” My brother Chris and his wife Rachel were expecting as well. I screamed with delight.. and immediately told Cole about Uncle Chwis and Aunt Rawchel’s baby before I’d even told him of my own. He was delighted. The weeks went on and I found myself more and more excited that our kids would literally be a month a part in age, with me delivering first.<br /><br />I received a call from my mother one early Monday morning. Rachel was in the hospital. Her water had broken at 17 weeks. They’d admitted her. Things didn’t look good. The family gathered around them. There was still a strong heartbeat. Our little Drury Baby was hanging on. <br /><br />After several days, Rachel was sent home and put on bed rest. Weekly appointments with her doctor revealed there was no measurable amniotic fluid, but always a strong steady heart rate. Weeks passed. After the first of the year, at 24 weeks Rachel was admitted to the hospital where she’ll remain until they deliver the baby at 34 weeks at the end of March. There has never been much amniotic fluid, which is crucial for organ development, but most importantly the baby’s lungs. Without amniotic fluid, you can’t really determine the baby’s sex, but the doctors are more and more confident it’s a boy.. A boy to carry on the Drury name as my brother is the last male Drury. No pressure little guy.<br /><br />Chris and Rachel<br /><br />My best friend recently helped Chris and Rachel buy their first home by acting as their agent. She immediately dubbed them the “sweetest couple ever” and questioned me about why I wasn’t just as sweet. I affectionately call them the “do gooders” because they have both dedicated their careers to the education/development of children. My brother a junior high English Teacher and Rachel is a Camp Director for the YMCA. They are naturals when it comes to kids and both have looked forward to starting their own family. <br /><br />I’ve been amazed as I’ve watched them deal with this. Their quiet strength, their Faith, their prayer together for a positive outcome and all of the waiting that comes as the doctors run every imaginable test to determine if your child is going to make it. There’s always been a steady heartbeat and as such Chris and Rachel’s stance has been clear: we won’t give up. My brother’s Faith developed at a much younger age than my own. While I was still questioning, he had already accepted it… But I’m continually humbled at his strength as a husband and father already. <br /><br />This past Sunday, my Pastor’s sermon hit home. In it he basically said, that often times in a spiritual journey there is a space of non answer and that’s the space in which God creates Faith.. Faith does not mean having answers, it means being willing to live without them…Faith is having the security to be insecure…As my family waits for answers, I found myself comforted.<br /><br />So to all four of my blog followers: Please pray for Chris, Rachel and their baby. Pray for comfort. Pray for the security to be insecure.<br /><br />Update: As I wrote this blog on 2/21/11, Samuel was contemplating his arrival. At 2:43am on February 24, 2011 Samuel Jon Drury made his entrance weighing in at 3lbs 15 oz. He remains in the NICU and he’s a fighter…completely worthy of his namesake. He’s doing as well as can be expected and the staff has to keep him sedated. If not, he’s trying to pull the many tubes from his tiny body. God willing, Sam will meet his cousin in the nursery as I’m set to deliver at the same hospital in just a few weeks.<br /><br />Holla.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-64326039023434045262011-02-01T21:02:00.004-06:002011-02-01T21:25:09.722-06:00Confessions of A Step MotherHere’s what I’m going to say about being a step mother after muddling thru almost a year of this complicated "title" and it’s brutally, brutally honest: It isn’t for wimps, and don’t embark on this journey without a licensed professional keeping you in check and lots of Mommy Juice. OK so I’m slightly kidding on the licensed professional thing…slightly.<br /><br />When Jay and I started dating Hudson was 5 and Abigail was almost 7. We didn’t date in front of the kids… we would occasionally get together for a zoo outing or chuck e cheese or the like with all three kids. We didn’t show affection, or make any declarations of a “relationship” to any of the kids. When things became more serious, I started seeing the kids twice a month or so for a movie date and that was the extent of it. Once we became engaged I usually saw them every Saturday that they were with their Dad and we’d try to plan fun excursions for them.<br /><br />Someone once told me that if you marry someone with kids, you immediately have to love their children, but I think they are completely wrong and you put all kinds of ridiculous pressure on the kids, yourself, and the relationship to feel this compelling love for someone else’s children. It just doesn’t happen overnight and I’ve learned not to beat myself up over it. Do I love my step children and want the best for them? Absolutely. Do they have a deep rooted bond with me? Absolutely not. Do I think they love me? A little. Will it come? Only time will tell, but if it doesn’t, that can’t define me… and as a woman, a mother, someone genetically predisposed to be able to bond with children, it took me a long time to get there and I still have to remind myself of it every day.<br /><br />Eb and Flow<br /><br />If you’re a mother, think of all the disgusting parts of your day to day existence when you have kids. Let’s be real: you change diapers, you exist with spit up on your clothes, you nurse them when they are sick, console them when they are sad, clean up all of their nasty messes, scrub stains from their undies, occasionally you venture to the back seat of your car where there is no telling what sort of science experiment you will find and ask youself: What the Hell??? You deal with their moods, their temperament, and their bad days. You celebrate their small victories and offer up lots of hugs and unconditional love. You bath them, you battle to feed them something nutritious, you tuck them in, pray with them, fall into bed exhausted and get up in the morning just to do it all again. You do this in conjunction with trying to teach them manners, respect, doling out necessary discipline, and trying oh so hard to shape them into functioning adults. You do this in conjunction with working at a job you hate because it pays the bills and provides security. And if you’re a mother, you know exactly why you do all of this: because you can’t imagine loving anyone more than you love your kids. I think God gives us children so we can begin to fathom the unconditional love and grace He shines down on us mere humans. Their happiness becomes your happiness and at the end of the day nothing makes me feel better than my son’s blind adoration. At some point it won’t be there, but for now it is and that in and of itself makes all of the crap you deal with daily and all of the inner demons you battle worth it. When he says “Mommy I love you…” for no reason at all, that gives me the courage to get up and do it all again tomorrow and look for the best possible stain removers on the market.<br /><br />Now imagine doing it for kids that have no blind adoration for you what so ever… none. In fact, after you’ve done their laundry, packed their lunch, entertained their friends, searched 10+ stores for jeans to fit them, cleaned their room and made them their favorite meal, they will want to call their Mom at the end of the day when it’s time to go to sleep and you have served your purpose. You kept their world turning for the day and while you’ve blindly done it because it’s what you would do for your own kids, you walk away feeling used, unappreciated, and exhausted. Stepmother: it ain’t for wimps. <br /><br />Please don’t misunderstand me, I never ever, for any reason, will try to take the place of their own mother. It’s not my intent,my place, nor do I want the full time role. There are years there that I wasn’t present for and a biological bond. They most certainly didn’t choose me, and I completely respect that. But it’s terribly hard not to take the act of being a “mother figure” without being a “mother” in stride at times. The thing I hear over and over again, that makes me want to scream: you can’t take it personally. How the heck can you not? Before you start in on telling me that I’m the adult and it’s not the kids’ responsibility to validate me emotionally- I couldn’t agree more. <br /><br />I'll talk more on this evolving relationship with the new direction of my blog. For those of you reading this thinking I’m whining or complaining. Stick with me. That’s not my intent. My intent is to lay the ground work for talking about what I call the small miracles along the way…and when you’re blending a family you have to look for the small miracles daily. Otherwise you’ll loose your mind..and mommy juice isn't an option for me right now..<br /><br />Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-27309679930732993402011-01-30T22:35:00.002-06:002011-01-31T11:37:20.593-06:00Failure to LaunchAs I struggle through parenthood.. hoping oh so hard to get it right and knowing that I am inevitably causing irreparable damage when I, on occasion, I don't know, lose it with my kids..I've come to some fairly deep revelations about differences in parenting style and what might cause such differences... and I've made some correlations.<br /><br />You parent with one of two objectives (if you're honest): A) Giving your child the life skills they need to go out and make it on their own in this world or B) Encouraging your child to be dependent on you (on some level) for the remainder of his or her life. <br /><br />With either objective, you clearly love your kids. You want the best for them. Your vision of what's best is just slightly skewed depending on your objective.. the one that is buried deep within you. Don't get me wrong, when I think of an empty nest or taking Cole to college or financially cutting him off in the event he chooses not to go or the worrying that will inevitably come with the "launch" I tear up. But I want my kids to have happy, fulfilled, successful lives and for them not to be dependent upon me. I don't want to raise grandchildren (though I certainly would if I had to). I want to enjoy them. I don't want to be financially supporting four kids after we've kicked their butts all the way through college... and after a while, I don't need any of my adult children living with me. They should go forth and prosper.. and prosperity shouldn't include my pocket book.<br /><br />On the other end of the spectrum is the parenting style where on some level you always want your kids to need you. You always bail them out. You don't expect them abide by the same rules as other kids... You're the parent at the parent teacher conference who when the teacher says "____ could really use some assistance with_____" that answers that statement with : "well perhaps you could do a better job of teaching" Of course there are times where this is absolutely true, but also times where you as the parent have failed to give your kid some sort of skill and will make excuses for the rest of his or her life rather than looking in the mirror.<br /><br />I've been told in this life that I have unrealistic expectations of people. And at times, that I am wrong to have expectations of my children.. Frankly, I admit my short comings freely, but if I don't expect my kids to behave, be mannerly, functioning and expect respect- tell me, who will? <br /><br />Here's the cold, hard, truth in parenting (in my humble opinion). You can't protect your child from every heartbreak.. They'll never learn to move forward. You can't protect them from the sinful nature of this world. You can only talk frankly with them about it and instill a different moral boundary. You can't always fix their problems- they'll never learn to take responsibility. You can't always make excuses for them... Sometimes they need to suffer consequences. You can't always bail them out... They'll expect it the rest of their lives.<br /><br />I've been pretty frank about becoming a step parent and dealing with that transition. Jay has the opportunity to parent his kids approximately 40% of the time. We have expectations in terms of behavior, manners, respect, & contributions to the family unit.. Our love is not a dependent one and it's a struggle. Frankly, their mother who moved back in with her parents and is re-evaluating the need for a career by returning to school- touts frequently "My Children are my life and my first priority.." And she certainly parents to this extreme. She's their friend, not always a parent and is raising them to be extremely dependent. It's frustrating. Abigail and Hudson are amazing kids and they have to bounce back and forth between the different expectations and I'm not sure who is right?<br /><br />Hudson is the natural athlete in our family and as such, we try to boost self esteem by playing this skill up. Last year at his soccer game, he was kicked in the shines... Trust me, it was painful.. He decided to sit out. He ran directly to his mother's lap where she coddled, stroked him, babied and re-assured him for the remaining 45 minutes of the game. Jay was pacing saying "Why isn't she sending him back in?" Hudson is one of the team's best players. It's awesome that Hudson is so loved... But there was a lesson here for Hudson to learn: When life knocks you down take a minute, re-group, but get back in the game..that's mine and Jay's expectation, but when your love cripples your children to complete dependence and a an athletically gifted kid is sitting in his mother's lap like he's still a dependent toddler... I wonder, are you failing your child as a parent? How is this example any different than a grown woman, running directly back to her parents to take care of her when the divorce is final? <br /><br />Time will tell. By no means am I perfect parent and I frequently get it wrong, and while I love my kids more than anything..I also love them enough to be tough on them. To have expectations and to invest the time in teaching them life skills. Because, I honestly couldn't handle a failure to launch and when you sign up to be a parent, you give up the ability to take the easy way out. Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-6061252010937167022011-01-10T20:49:00.023-06:002011-01-11T12:26:00.503-06:00Hello 2011!And she's back. So I realized today at work, it's really 2011. I think it takes me a week of typing dates and communicating it for it to actually sink in...there are still 354 days for life to change in 2011 and trust me it will.<br /><br />As I reflect on the last several years of life, I think about where I've been and how much I've accomplished and better yet where I want to go. I think I want my blog to take a new path this year but before I talk about that new path I guess I need to cover some of the past. Those of you whom I call friend, already know so much of this, but for those of you just finding my blog let me bring you up to speed: I am crazy (but in a good way hence the title of my blog) and several years ago I wondered through the darkest valley I'd been through this far in life: it's called Divorce. I blogged a lot about starting over and being a single mom and how completely and totally terrifying it was.. I call 2008 the "rip cord" year. I turned my life and my son's upside down on shear faith that once I lept and pulled the rip cord that we'd land in a better place and we did.<br /><br />When I started 2009 I'd met someone... he was dubbed Marketing Boy for the purposes of this blog and to protect the innocent. I've blogged a lot about our relationship and our story...I got a new job and started finding my way. I call 2009 the Recovery Year...<br /><br />In 2010, Marketing Boy and I embarked on a whole new kind of journey: we sold both of our houses..we got married... and because we're both divorced we wanted to make sure it stuck, so we got married not once..but twice (just to be on the safe side) We bought a house, and we learned in August that we would add another baby to our brood. I'm dubbing 2010 the Moving On/Building the Foundation Year.<br /><br />Right now I'm affectionately looking at 2011 as the "Holy Crap" year.. and I'm at peace. Our son (God willing) will be born in April. We are still not at a place where the blending of the proverbial "His" and "Mine" child situation is super easy so adding "ours" seemed like a brilliant idea. Both of our careers (like most of America) are somewhat questionable.. so we have three soon to be four kids, a whole lot of Faith that God never gives us more than we can handle, and each other. "Holy Crap?" you ain't never lying. As in "Holy Crap" I hope the foundation is sturdy enough to hold up the dreams of all of these kids, a new marriage and questionable careers??" My prayer time and Jay's blood pressure have gone up infinitely since August. But we remain happy, still together, and hopeful that all the sacrifices we made financially, emotionally and logistically for our family in 2010 will start to pay off.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span> New Direction<br /><br />So when I started this blog during the rip cord year, I did it mostly as a therapeutic outlet for my situation at the time. I never thought people would actually read it.. Many of my posts were also about my son, Cole, so it was sort of a place to keep all the notes I'd written about him. When I started receiving comments, the best ones, were generally letting me know I was doing ok at not being a bitter divorced chick. This made me think maybe there was something to all of this blogging stuff and in hind site, I remain proud of the way I handled it for Cole and myself. I've met bitter divorced chick since that time, and trust me when I say, I'm definitely not that stereotype.<br /><br />As I think about the Holy Crap year, here's the truth.. Marketing Boy and I are in the midst of blending a family... and it's not easy. I don't suppose family and raising kids is ever easy, but we're getting through it and there are highs and lows. So as I muddle through my Holy Crap year- I will share the story because blended families are everywhere around us and they aren't always painted in the best light. We have remained dedicated to seeking a great deal of coaching to get this right and when a lot of divorced parents resort to bad mouthing the other parent, we've chosen a different path when it would certainly be easier to join in the mudslinging. So if I can share that story (or at least some of it) and it helps get me and my family through, well then I think that's the benefit of the social networking world we live in...maybe it'll give someone a laugh or someone out there will let me know they've been there too... only time will tell. <br /><br />In the coming weeks, I'll be revamping my blog site, introducing you to some new characters, and Random Ramblings of a Crazy Red Head will be less about me and Cole "the solo mission" and more about my crazy blended family, new baby, and new marriage. <br /><br />But Holy Crap it's 2011 and I have a feeling great things are going to start to happen.<br /><br />Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-40485780894931203412010-07-27T21:20:00.003-05:002010-07-28T10:50:11.056-05:00We're WomenSo lately, I've been thinking a lot about the roles of women. As I look at my own life, I realize I'm surrounded by strong women. I am a working mom so a lot of my friends are career ladies, and lots of them have chosen not to make work their focus. <br /><br />I often wonder if there is a direct correlation in female empowerment and the astounding divorce rate in America. But then I think about how many women in generations before stayed in abusive, destructive relationships because they had no other choice and wonder if empowerment, education and careers are really such a bad thing... focus Ashley.<br /><br />As a woman today, you'll likely wear many hats. Wife, mother, daughter, sister, Christ Follower, Friend... to name a few. My favorite stories in life are often of women who were knocked down and hit rock bottom, only to pick themselves up and make an impact. While there is a lot of mindless reading that fills my bookshelves (Yes the Twilight Saga is part of that), in my night stand there is a different sort of stack: Anne Lamott, my Bible, The Message... to name a few.. and every night after I tuck Cole away, if I'm feeling a little lost or discouraged by all of these roles or hats that have to be worn, I seek a cup of comfort in my not so mindless reading.<br /><br />Tonight, I dug a little further back and dusted it off from my bookshelf: Iyanla VanZant was an author I discovered in college. When I googled her tonight, she's taken her message way beyond a series of books and I'm not sure how I feel about that... However, her story is a sad one: Abuse,teen pregnancy, more abuse, divorce, welfare... She applied for a series of grants and completed college and law school with three children in tow. She believes that the other parts of your life aren't going to flourish until your spiritual house is in order. Many people would consider her and Anne Lamott a little "new agey" but I'm of the mindset that until I meet my Maker on my day of judgement, I am not going to judge any one's walk with Christ while I'm here on Earth. I just want to learn from it? Back to Iyanla.. At the beginning of her book, "Yesterday I Cried" is a very moving poem. I read it aloud to myself when I'm really feeling blue.. Sometimes great writing is about sharing/introducing people to someone else's and while this blog is by no means great writing... This poem is:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Yesterday I cried.<br />I came home, went straight to my room, sat on the edge of my bed, kicked off my shoes, unhooked my bra and had myself a good cry.<br />I'm telling you,<br />I cried until my nose was running all over the silk blouse I got on sale.<br />I cried until my ears were hot.<br />I cried until my head was hurting so bad that I could hardly see the pile of soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.<br />I want you to understand, I had myself a really good cry yesterday.<br />Yesterday, I cried<br />for all the days I was too busy, or too tired or too mad to cry.<br />I cried for all the days and all the ways and all the times I had been dishonored, disrespected, and disconnected my Self from myself, only to have it reflected back to me in the ways others did to me the same things I had already done to myself.<br />I cried for all the things I had been given, only to have them stolen;<br />for all the things I had asked for that had yet to show up;<br />for all the things i had accomplished, only to give them away, to people in circumstances, which left me feeling empty, and battered and plain old used.<br />I cried because there really does come a time when the only thing left for you to do is cry.<br />Yesterday I cried.<br />.......<br />Yesterday, I cried.<br />I cried because I hurt. I cried because I was hurt.<br />I cried because the hurt had no place to go except deeper in the pain that caused it in the first place, and when it gets there, the hurt wakes you up.<br />I cried because it was too late. I cried because it was time.<br />I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know that my soul knew everything I needed to know. <br />I cried a soulful cry yesterday and it felt so good.<br />It felt so very very bad.<br />In the midst of my crying, I felt my freedom coming, <br />Because<br />Yesterday, I cried<br />...... with an agenda.</span><br /><br />I'm at a really good place in my life and while that good place isn't where I want to be, I'm realizing that it never will be and to just embrace that I'm right here, right now for a specific reason. Strength, many times, comes from showing weakness. Some days, no matter how great life is going or what kind of "handle" you think you have on it..there is a cleansing that comes from a good cry and to all the men out there: you should try it.<br /><br />My blog has been something I have been neglecting... but my journey isn't over. My career is in need of CPR. I'll always have some crazy mommy tales to tell, and wifely tales to tell soon.. so stay tuned. Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-47446405203765853852010-07-06T20:46:00.000-05:002010-07-06T21:43:49.320-05:00Step W-h-a-t?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xTuJgq6J32pC5fSBopKNHgx_7HEfLRjmRdyZnJwDD7ZU8xOpxjcbmHxIHGJb4pKnKnnDyWTORECm1zEnMu-EgR2Hjpzw2C4rUiE3drSmUEAEPgfTGZQjWpQVSEAsGG3359QO1ydWeGc/s1600/DSC_0201.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xTuJgq6J32pC5fSBopKNHgx_7HEfLRjmRdyZnJwDD7ZU8xOpxjcbmHxIHGJb4pKnKnnDyWTORECm1zEnMu-EgR2Hjpzw2C4rUiE3drSmUEAEPgfTGZQjWpQVSEAsGG3359QO1ydWeGc/s200/DSC_0201.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486056640475666290" /></a><br />When you are a little girl and growing up and dreaming of the man you'll marry and what kind of house you'll have and how many kids you'll have and what you'll do for a living you never say "I want to be a step mom." *flash to Cinderella with her wicked step mother and equally wicked step sisters*<br /><br />I've found it's something that just sort of happens to you. My Mom was a step mom. My Dad was married previously and my sister is ten years older than me. I watched my Mother struggle with step mother hood.. trying oh so hard to get it right. I'm not saying it's a bad fate, but talk about coming with some challenges- it absolutely does and it has remained my greatest concern for mine and MB's marriage. I could totally screw it up and live up to the Cinderella image...<br /><br />Shortly after Marketing Boy and I became engaged, rather than ordering an ettiquette book on throwing a second simple wedding ceremony, I filled my Amazon.com cart with titles like " Stepcoupling" and "The Working Girl's Guide to being a Stepmom" I watched Stepmom with Julia Roberts and Susan Sarandon and sobbed. Never thought I would be a stepmom. I guess I thought I would get a divorce and it miraculously it wouldn't happen for me. Boy was I an idiot.<br /><br />Close to 60% of American Families are what we affectionately call "Blended Families" and it certainly feels that way. Insert "his" and "hers" and the two of you into blender and press "blend" and that is very definitely how it can feel sometimes. No one is right or wrong- we're just all different.<br /><br />We have sought a great deal of coaching on how to blend a family. We talk through issues with a professional and get suggestions or ideas about how to make our life in a blender a little more smooth. Then comes step 2 :Try to spend as much time together as a family unit as possible. This will make the transition after marriage a little easier. I'm learning, that there are good weekends with the kids and there are challenging weekends with the kids. Weekends where you think: I can totally do this- I'm a step mom super woman. Then there are those weekends where you feel like you've been through nuclear war and you have grown a wart on your nose and you suck and they hate you. These are the weekends where I happily bound into the office on Monday morning for a little solitude and peace that comes with a 9x9 cube. <br /><br />Here is why I think it's harder for women to swallow this "step" craziness. Women are very often responsible for the nurturing of the kids. The setting the stage of the home life, the family dynamics, and really they (like it or not) are the center of the family unit on a lot of levels. It's so easy for me to nurture Cole: I know every wound, every hurt, every issue and I've been there from the beginning. I know what he needs before he even needs it. I don't have to learn: I know. With stepkids it constantly changes. You get to have an impact 25% of the time and with Marketing Boy and I, we know they aren't getting the most positive picture of us when they are with their Mom. I can never be prepared enough for the emotions that come to us every other weekend. So it's a constant experiment in trial and error. Trying to understand what's going on with them and learning to be the sounding board they need.<br /><br />Step families get a bad rap. Nuclear families are best, but in my day to day life I hear a lot of really positive things about step families (if done right). There is a lot of influencing that can be done. It warms my heart when Abigail and Hudson share secrets and thoughts with me that they don't even share with their biological parents. Jay tucks Cole in most nights and "upside down on the bed" is the usual routine and he absolutely treats Cole as if he were his own. <br /><br />There is the struggle of being the complete opposite of their mother in terms of parenting style and expectations. But what I'm learning, when I allow myself too, is God put me in their lives and them in mine for a very specific reason. While we're still figuring that out and there is craziness, chaos, and emotion.. There has been a lot of growth and strength that comes when two people press "blend" and trust each other enough to hold on for dear life.<br /><br />Stepmom... My life suddenly hit fast forward and I've been thrown in the deep end with a six year old and eight year old. Luckily, their Dad is always willing to throw me a life raft.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-29683352350855154932010-04-21T20:30:00.002-05:002010-05-04T11:31:44.554-05:00It's Not Just a House<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrq22FwCeEBvDZJqUF7b7bpg30WpJjAS4Y4TtgqMOEOkEsK2OqeefYjGWmQQp0bZ7vLAHbn4Aso4Jka3eDFdhBDL9bf6R6vQvxtGWB6fpXl8ggN1csl8pRlUT4rKB6yX-7MVtbk9SJ-g/s1600/DSC_02980110.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrq22FwCeEBvDZJqUF7b7bpg30WpJjAS4Y4TtgqMOEOkEsK2OqeefYjGWmQQp0bZ7vLAHbn4Aso4Jka3eDFdhBDL9bf6R6vQvxtGWB6fpXl8ggN1csl8pRlUT4rKB6yX-7MVtbk9SJ-g/s200/DSC_02980110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462667391295473954" /></a><br />It has been my home. I often tell people when I bought it- it looked like rainbow bright threw up. Clearly there's a lot of sweat equity in the house. <br /><br />My home on Sunny Point has been my rock. Heck the name of the street alone as one of the things I loved about it. I've always felt safe and secure there. It's comforting when you are a single mom to know that you can pay the bills and provide a nice place for your son to live. Where you know the neighbors and the schools are good. But my single mom days are quickly coming to an end, and three bedrooms isn't quite enough for my soon to be family of five.<br /><br />If I'm honest, I wasn't in a hurry to sell it. Selling would mean I would have to move forward. When you're me and don't do well with change and have trust issues beyond belief and if you read my previous post, I had a great deal of homework to do on that front in terms of personal growth. But the timing of the sale was everything we had hoped for.<br /><br />Sure, it's a house. Bricks and sticks. Many people would say a home isn't really anything more than the people who share it with you. Perhaps, I'm shallow, but my home is a reflection of me. An emotional journey if you will. Lots of memories made there... good and bad. And when you start to go through everything and really try to pack away memories in card board boxes, for me, there is absolutely a little bit of mourning that has to happen. I'll pack like a mad woman and then just sit there and think about everything that happened in that particular room.. or how many times I had to re-work it to make it just so. Or what it looked like when I first moved in. I'm sorry, that's not just a house- it's a home. <br /><br />There something to be said for being able to find your way around a place in the pitch black because your body has memorized every step. Or knowing how long it takes for me to get from my room to Cole's when he's had a bad dream. But I'll have these things in the new house too.<br /><br />Something that I find completely amazing: From the looks of it, the lady who is purchasing the house is a single Mom too. It warms my heart that she might find the same sort of comfort from the house and the neighborhood that I did.<br /><br />While, I'm so excited about my new house and the start of my new life... I couldn't move forward without closing that door and saying I've been so fortunate to have lived on Sunny Point for the past eight years. I'll miss my butler's pantry and garden tub with my super cool bath fixtures, and my favorite neighbors, but it's time to move on and make some new memories.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-39905467429112630822010-04-15T20:20:00.002-05:002010-04-21T13:25:50.652-05:00You Can Probably Guess What HappenedSo back to my series of Blog posts about Jay.. I mean Marketing Boy..<br /><br />I will never say our relationship hasn't been a rocky road. It absolutely has. We have had to deal with so much in our time together. New jobs (both of us), selling houses (his and mine) this economic recession that has hit us all... our kids.. and his ex wife remains a super fun treat : ) <br /><br />But we've weathered the storm and at the end of the day he's the first person I want to tell when something great happens, and the first person I need to help me along when it feels like I just can't any more. <br /><br />We absolutely fight, but we fight fair. We're both willing to admit that we were wrong. We still love to do things together... We laugh a lot but when there's been two divorces between you- we cry a lot too. We worry about the kids together. We struggle with day to day life together. But we remain committed to work on the relationship every day.<br /><br />In November, I had some minor surgery. The night before Jay said we should go have a relaxing dinner and get my mind off of it. We re-lived our first date. He proposed at the restaurant where we first met. It was expertly timed: asking my parents for permission, the kneel down, the entire restaurant clapped, and there was immediately some champagne to enjoy. I couldn't have been happier.. When we crossed the street to go have a celeberatory beer at the Old Monk all of our closest friends were there to celebrate with us.. I floated around on my own private cloud for a while..<br /><br />Shortly thereafter, fear set in. Could I really do this again? I had a "what if" for everything. I had an excuse for why I wasn't planning the ceremony and I let fear rain on my parade. Everyday, Jay showed up. Answering all of my questions. Dealing with my concern of the day and all of the relentless discussions I insisted we have. Another failed marriage wasn't an option for me, and fear kept me stagnant.<br /><br />Several weeks ago, I totally got called on the carpet for the way I was proceeding in our premarital counseling... "Ashley, you pursue everything in your life with a passion and a vengeance.. why aren't you pursuing this marriage?" There it was. That thing I hadn't dealt with.<br /><br />I struggle with Faith and my relationship with God is something that challenges me daily. Over the last two years, I have been constantly questioning "God when will you stop punishing me for getting a divorce?" Then it was ever so delicately brought to my attention that God just doesn't work that way. He's not keeping score. Romans Chapter 8 " There is no condemnation for those who remain in Jesus..." I'm forgiven if I choose to forgive myself. <br /><br />I'm not saying that I got up and said "I forgive myself!! I rock!!" It was more along the lines of sleepless nights,crying and trying to let it all go. There wasn't some magical "ahh haaa" moment, but shortly after I worked through this garbage and began the process, everything started coming together. I had the "divine" sign I was looking for. I finally received an offer on my house. We put an offer on the "dream" house we'd been drooling over off and on (literally on and off the market) for over a year.. and we now have a wedding date set. <br /><br />Grace is something that humbles me daily. Honestly, it remains something I have difficulty fathoming. But in relationships, I'm learning, it's something that you have to constantly be willing to offer up. <br /><br />And through it all, Jay has continued to amaze me by being right there with me while I try to sort it all out.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-59139313285948218342010-03-24T20:37:00.000-05:002010-03-26T12:18:23.721-05:00Kitchen Table ChatsKitchen Table Chats <br /><br />When I think about my childhood, I always think, wow! I had a pretty good one and I then it is usually followed with worry about whether or not Cole will have the same sort of recollection.<br /><br />I had fairly amazing parents. No one is a perfect parent, but hindsight being 20/20 they showed up and told us they loved us everyday. They supported us, we never wanted for much, and in return they had certain expectations of us, which gave us a certain amount of accountability. My parents did the day to day shaping of my person, and doled out the discipline. But if I had to say there was another person present in my life as a child that made me who I am, it was my Grandmother who we all affectionately called Grandsam. This isn’t my first blog post about her, and probably won’t be my last.<br /><br />I miss her. All the time. January was the four year anniversary of her death. I ended up taking a personal day from work. Too bad you can’t call in sad. Because every year about that time, I remember and I grieve a little bit all over again because she’s not here to talk to me and tell me what she thinks. <br /><br />I was the only granddaughter and the youngest of four. Every summer my parents would drop my brother and me off to spend a week or more with my Grandsam, Pa and my two cousins (Jason and Kevin). I spent a lot of time being tortured by the boys. Let’s see if we can drown Ash was always a fun game to play. But I guess it made me spunky and thanks to the torture I can hold my own pretty well. When we all started to grow up, weeks with the grandparents became less frequent. There were plenty of occasions where it was just my brother and I for a long weekend. And when I was old enough to drive, I’d make the trek to Graham, Texas to see her on my own or with my Mom. Usually upon arrival, I would walk through the house to see what had changed and not much ever did. Then we’d sit at the kitchen table and talk- for hours. A lot of it was spent catching up, laughing and remembering. Eventually, it would be bedtime but I knew exactly where I would find her in the morning when I woke up. She’d be at the kitchen table, reading her bible or a book and drinking her coffee. She always woke up early and this was her ritual all the years I could remember. <br /><br />I’d assume my perch at the other end of the table and the talking would commence again. She'd usually make me a cup of coffee too and homemade cinnamon rolls were a tradition. When you allow yourself to really pay attention to someone’s life story, you allow yourself to really know them. My Grandsam had a really hard life. Really hard, but she was one of the most positive people I’ve ever met. She lost a daughter, Onza Gail; when Onza was only 5. She later recovered and had my Mom and Uncle. When my mother was 10, her father was killed in an oil well fire and that left my Grandmother with two kids to raise on her own and a widow. She later remarried and the only Grandfather I ever knew “Pa” died when I was 12. She once told me, after losing her daughter, she woke up one morning and told God she was through with Him. How could He let this happen? What would she do? She couldn’t be faithful any longer… She teared up when she told me, “ I didn’t last the day- I was praying again by night time… I needed Him”<br /><br />I learned some valuable life lessons during our Kitchen Table chats. She use to tell me, “Ashley, you need to get an education and be able to take care of yourself and your children. You never know what life is going to bring you and an education is something that can’t be taken away from you..” It’s just as important for you as it is the boys she use to say. How right she was. When I graduated from College she said it was one of the proudest days of her life.<br /><br />Nothing much was off limits during kitchen table chats. Boys, being upset with or not understanding my parents, girl friends, school, and what I was suppose to do with my life… we covered the gamut. Then she’d tell me she was going to get calluses on her knees from all the praying she was going to have to do for me.<br /><br />When it was time for me to go home, we’d hug, and she would tear up. She would tell me how much she loved me and just like she always did when I was a kid- she’d stand out in the yard and blow kisses until I was out of sight. <br /><br />In a world where families often revolve around the Television- Kitchen Table chats were pretty awesome. And while the tradition continues with my Mom, Dad & Family.. I still miss her and remember her and thank her for taking the time to have them with me. What I wouldn’t give for one now.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-65430389494349540792010-03-11T20:12:00.000-06:002010-03-11T20:13:12.031-06:00The Turning Point - Part IISome of the best relationship advice I've received in my life is some that I received when I least expected it. I was advised that relationships, healthy ones, are much like a three legged stool. Each leg is crucial to the support of the stool or relationship. The legs are fairly simple: Spiritual, Emotional & Physical. If these three components or legs are there, then you have yourself a good foundation and a pretty rockin stool ( I added the rockin part, but the advice was given by my Pastor and friend and he's pretty rockin too) When you realize that your past relationships were balancing on one leg and when you find yourself ready to pursue a relationship again, you start becoming keenly aware of having all three legs. Because, hopefully you've learned, balancing on one leg is exhausting.<br /><br />In every relationship, I think there's a turning point where you realize, this is someone who really gets me and has potential. I'm not a girl who expects the big gesture of flowers, chocolates, and all of that crap. Because honestly, any schmuck with a wallet can buy some flowers and sweep you off your feet. I wanted real. I wanted a three legged stool. I wanted someone who that I would know when the poo hit the fan, he'd be equal to the task..not someone who would lay down on the couch and expect me to figure it out. Flowers, candy, feet sweeping and such? Not for me.<br /><br />With Marketing Boy, I remember the day I thought "This guy has potential and he could be my three legged stool" I'd had a pretty crappy day at work. One of those days you feel chewed up and spit out. I was having a financial crisis (the car, the house, the life) and really it was one of those days you say to yourself, if one more thing goes wrong- I'll just scream. <br /><br />When I picked up the phone, it was Jay on other end. I guess he could tell I'd had a bad day. He said, "Why don't you go home and get Cole to bed and I'll come make you dinner? I'll pick up a movie on the way." Sign me up, I thought. He showed up and made me dinner. While we talked I found out that he was a couple of credits shy of a Masters Degree in Theology from Dallas Theological Seminary. I very nearly fell out of my chair. Because I hadn't dubbed him Seminary Boy. He was Marketing Boy. There was a movie (sorry I don't remember the title) and about the time we sat down to watch it the smoke detector started beeping and I thought to myself- there is my one more thing to send me over the edge. Before I could even make a sarcastic comment about it being the icing on the cake of my day, he was scaling Cole's toddler table figuring out how to fix it. Maybe I wasn't destined to figure it out on my own with my broomstick after all?<br /><br />When he went home that evening, I realized I was hooked. Definitely three legged stool qualities. We've been together every since and he still shows up for me & Cole everyday and in every way. <br /><br />While I'm still learning that the legs never stay perfectly balanced and sometimes the stool gets a little wobbly I'm also realizing that I've found someone who is willing to help me try.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-85898093537028083242010-03-11T20:11:00.002-06:002010-03-12T14:34:08.630-06:00The Turning Point....Part 1So I started a series of blog posts- but in typical me style,I have been distracted and preoccupied and it's time for me to refocus. Blogging is something that, I've put out there and it's a very healing/growing process for me to realize where I'm going and where I've been. So let's keep telling the story of Marketing Boy aka Jay. <br /><br />So I'll fast forward a few dates. I can't be boring people with the details... After the next couple of dates Marketing Boy suggested we only date each other...I agreed, but I really wasn't looking for anything serious. I loved the time we spent together. He taught me how to run. We enjoyed doing things together. I was happy and content for the first time in a very long time. I was in no way focused on where anything was going or any of that stuff. Life had been hard- I just wanted to coast.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">History</span></span><br />To tell you about the turning point- I need to rewind and tell you a little bit of history.. Rewind to August 2006. I was married to Cole's Dad... and 8 mos. pregnant. Cole's Dad was in the middle of Paramedic school. Working 24 hour shifts had already begun. I wasn't super stoked about being hugely pregnant and alone at night but hey.. it was the right career for him and relationships are about compromise. Cole's Dad was working. I'd finally gotten the position of the body pillow just right, & dosed off to sleep when I am awakened to this screeching beep... *BEEP* I look at the clock.. 1AM.. *sigh* Put pillow over my head.. try to go back to sleep.. *BEEP* BEEP* BEEP*.. I roll out of bed.. Waddle into the living room where I've identified the shrill beep coming from.. it's the smoke detector. Me- 5'5" and pregnant... up against the smoke detector positioned on the 16 foot ceiling. The 14' ladder was in my neighbor's storage shed (we have that kind of neighborly relationship) I was contemplating going over there and getting it but sanity checked in and I realized I probably shouldn't be scaling the 14 foot ladder this pregnant. <br /><br />There was nothing left to do but go back to bed. *BEEP*<br /><br />The next morning I managed to get ready for work. I was waddling out the door when the hubby showed up after a long 24 hour shift. You always feel bad asking for anything when someone has worked for 24 hours straight.... But I knew he'd need a nap-and the smoke detector might prove a nuisance for him as well- So I told him the smoke detector was acting up, it had beeped all night and that it probably needed a replacement battery. He said "ok" and I left for work. When I came home that evening I asked if he had gotten a chance to change the battery and he told me that it hadn't beeped all day.. I said "ok..but would you please change it during your 48hrs off..because it will start beeping again..and I don't think I should get the ladder out and take care of it this pregnant" "No problem" he said.. I'll take care of it.."<br /><br />Fast forward a night. Another 24 hour shift and it's just me and my belly. Again, I'm awakened to *BEEP* *BEEP* .. I roll out of bed. Stupid smoke detector again. I call Cole's Dad thinking this isn't the battery thing.. "Oh I forgot to change it.. and I thought you might have been hallucinating.." Never mind I mumbled. I went out in the garage.. I didn't have the big ladder in order to actually change the battery- but I had the smaller one one.. and I had a broom stick...I drug the ladder in the house. <br /><br />I climbed up to the very top.. extended my very pregnant body.. and began beating the living crap out of the stupid smoke detector with the broom stick. I nearly fell off the ladder. But I managed to take out the smoke detector and waddle back to bed. <br /><br />Reading this I realize I probably sound like a spoiled princess and like I'm throwing my ex under the bus, but that's really not my point. He had a lot on his plate and I remain completely proud of him and his courage to pursue such a big career change. Trust me when I say, he's the type of person that is suited for it. And it's not that any other time I wouldn't have been just fine changing the battery of the smoke detector. But in relationships, I've learned, sometimes you do things to take care of the other person. Otherwise, it just never works.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-42891088068788621732010-03-01T10:00:00.001-06:002010-03-01T10:49:30.085-06:00My Life is A Snow GlobeThat's how my life feels right now. Like a snow globe. I'm one of those little plastic people trapped in a little world. Occasionally I wonder up, tap on the glass and proclaim "It's time to get the heck out of here."<br /><br />I was pretty okay with single mom life. I had a little routine. Cole and I handled the transition okay.. and now someone picked up the snow globe and shook it. I mean hard. While life changes are new and exciting- they are also stressful and complicated. I can't even find the time to blog about how I got to my current state of feeling like I reside in a snow globe and it's a pretty good story in itself.<br /><br />My house is on the market. It's very violating having people traipse in and out of your home criticizing and such. I'm getting closer by the day to having someone buy it and that terrifies me. I have no idea where I'm going to live or where my kid is going to go to preschool for that matter.. I'm suppose to be uber confident in this huge leap of faith and instead I find myself hanging out in my snow globe..where occasionally someone picks me up and shakes me. Snow globes are volatile. You put yourself on a shelf- available for the shaking. The rattling of the cage if you will. <br /><br />Here's what I'm learning about life in the snow globe. It's largely about Faith. Faith in the prayers you've said that haven't been answered. Faith in the people who surround you in your little world and Faith that at some point, you'll get yourself out of the globe.. and everything and everyone will stop shaking. Life will be peaceful again. Until then though, and here's the hard part, you have to have Faith that you're in the right hands.<br /><br />Holla! (Cough, Sneeze- stress doesn't do good things for your immune system either)Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-3533261648090522532010-01-25T11:37:00.005-06:002010-01-26T11:45:54.355-06:00NoksIt's funny how certain words or phrases that first develop when kids are developing their speech stick with you. For example, nok in Cole language meant snack. Sure sure he knows now that snack= nok, but for us the words are interchangeable. Sprouts is our local health food store and we have a tradition. I say we're going to Pouts and Cole knows he's getting a nok. Simply put- he gets to pick one of the bulk candy or chocolate items that the good people of Sprouts have pre-measured and put in uber convenient, environment destroying plastic packaging. The nok is his special sweet treat after dinner if he does a good job on his veggies and eating something somewhat nutritious. I also let him partake of a piece or two of it while we're shopping.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Swaying the Jury</span><br />Three year olds love to be en-powered. Ask them their opinion or if they can do something and generally they are equal to the task. I generally let Cole pick which nok he wants...but when reaches for the cinnamon fire candy or the chocolate covered espresso beans- obviously, there is a bit of swaying of the jury that has to happen. Simply put: Encourage my kid to make the "right" choice. Not the stuff that will make him a hyper freak show or cause him to projectile spit a piece of cinnamon candy in the middle of Pouts.<br /><br />Every time, it's the same scenario and if I really think about it..now it's noks at Pouts but all too soon it will be a whole new level of encouraging and swaying.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span><strong>Flashback</strong><br />So I had a pretty strict disciplinarian in my mother. I received my fair share of spankings..was making my bed by age 5, wasn't allowed to bring home anything but A's & B's on my report card and you could hang it up if she ever caught wind of you misbehaving in school or being disrespectful to an adult. Really my mother just had certain expectations of my brother and I in terms of our behavior. Discipline she was fairly strict about it.. Allowing us to make our own choices? Well she walked a fine line on that one.<br /><br />My brother and I both had friends, or activities my Mom didn't approve of.. but instead of putting her foot down and proclaiming " You can't be friends with that person..or you can't be in the Flag Corp or in the Jazz Band or get in the car with that crazy kid or whatever" She attempted to sway the jury. She knew just making the decision for us and saying "NO"..would make us want to do it all the more. So sometimes she'd give us just enough rope to hang ourselves.. Then we'd get disappointed by that friend she knew was bad news...or wouldn't be accepted into a certain clique..or didn't make the team. Then she'd be there to help us figure it out. <br /><br />These life lessons don't really end once your parents have launched you from the house. I'm 32 and just last week I received a concerned email from my Mother. At first my response was "No she didn't.." I had to call my brother and talk it out. But she's just looking out for me and still trying to sway that jury...and encourage me to pick the right nok. <br />Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-59611277767027479952010-01-04T14:35:00.008-06:002010-01-04T15:12:21.743-06:00The First DateI got to blog on my vacation!! <br /><br />So Marketing Boy was one of my matches through eHarmony (thanks eHarmony)... I saw his picture, read his bio, and though it looked like he once wore a leopard print jacket with a pink shirt in one of his photos- I still decided to send him a message. Truth be told, I thought he had a nice smile and I liked his glasses.<br /><br />We started into all of the guided eHarmony communication..made it to "open" communication within a day or so and before I knew it- he was my email buddy, and he gave me a call. By the end of the week- we had a date set to meet. Saturday night- dinner at the Porch. <br /><br />I found myself actually excited about going on the date with Jay, instead of my usual dread. I got a sitter, got myself dressed, and took myself to The Porch. Where I found him, already there, beer in hand, jockeying for a position at the bar and re-arranging the bar stools. He was definitely my kind of cute... and thus our first date commenced. <br /><br />We drank Corona Light and got to know each other. I learned he had two kids (Abigail 7 and Hudson 5) was married for 12 years..Adored his kids.. Owned his own creative company Marblehead... and was trying to make it in the world of life post divorce. Somewhere in there we had dinner. I remember commenting on the fact that he had this start up Company and that it must be stressful.. His reply was " I love it..but I have two employees and sometimes all the mouths to feed keeps me up at night.." I was intrigued. Here was a guy (not wearing a pink shirt and leopard print jacket) that felt a real responsibility to his employees and their families... He asked if I'd like to get another beer and I definitely did so we went across the street to the Old Monk and had another drink. We ended up talking for four more hours. He walked me to my car..we said goodnight... and I think I knew I'd met someone special. The two kids part scared the living crap outta me ( I know it's a complete double standard) but there was something about him.<br /><br />So I won't bother to tell the entire world how he sent me a text message on Monday morning thanking me for dinner Sunday night...(I was the Saturday night date not the Sunday night date)..I almost deleted him right then. I take back what I said about meeting someone special.<br /><br />OK not really, when you meet someone on eHarmony you kind of assume they are casually meeting other people too.. I was having dinner with someone Sunday night as well.. I couldn't be mad for too long. <br /><br />Besides, he put on the full court press and lined up the next date fairly quickly.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-29319867150195640002010-01-04T14:27:00.003-06:002010-01-04T14:34:09.059-06:00The Background<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5Ctemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:1237518091; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-484001726 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">The Background: </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To begin the story of Marketing Boy, <span style=""> </span>I guess we need to rewind… To August a long time ago.<span style=""> </span>I was in full hermit mode.<span style=""> </span>It had been six months since Cole's Dad and I had separated… My divorce had been final for a while.<span style=""> </span>I was doing better, but solely focused on Cole… He was getting fairly rotten.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My therapist, my friends, my family were all advising that I needed to get out.<span style=""> </span>That I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">couldn't</span>’t just lock myself away raising Cole, and ignore the possibility of a functional relationship.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was another Saturday night, Cole was in bed, and through all the heartbreak, loneliness was kicking in… There was wine involved and I trudged into the office to fill out an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">eHarmony</span> profile with my girlfriend on the phone with me, guiding me along…<span style=""> </span>Several hours and several glasses of wine later I had a complete profile and more matches then I knew what to do with.<span style=""> </span>I simply turned off the computer and went to bed. It was too much...
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When you’re a single Mom, dating is an entirely different level of scary.<span style=""> </span>Instead of will he like me? It becomes will he like my son?<span style=""> </span>If it gets serious, will he love my son like his own? Will he like the fact that I have a little boy TOO much, meaning he’s a creepy pedophile… How will I trust anyone or myself ever again? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My situation also makes dating difficult.. You see, I don’t ship Cole away every other weekend to visit his Dad.<span style=""> </span>He’s with me, all the time and my one rule was certain: I would not date in front of my son.
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Thus my dating woes began. And wow, dating had changed in the last eight years while I was with Cole's Dad.<span style=""> </span>I learned some valuable lessons:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Make use of your lunch hour: wear something cute to work, and you’re good to go.<span style=""> </span>You also have a reason to cut the date short</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">If I guy asks you out for coffee you’re not on the “A” list.. you’re on the “maybe” list</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">If you merit a weeknight date for drinks only…you’re not on the “A” list</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">If you merit a weeknight date for dinner…you’re on the “B” list</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">One friend encouraged me to make use of having a babysitter and being dressed up: stack a couple of first meetings on the same night.<span style=""> </span>Happy hour, then work your way to dinner (Save this trick for first meetings only- I learned the hard way)</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">The no. 1 thing I learned is that if you “click” on the phone, he gets your crazy sense of humor via email, AND asks you out for not drinks but dinner on a Saturday night…there IS potential and you just might have made your way onto the “A” list.</li></ol> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">\</p>
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<br />Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-39332652500318044922009-12-11T13:25:00.003-06:002009-12-11T13:41:10.513-06:00Marketing Boy RevealedI haven't been blogging much of late. Life has just been too busy. Things are picking up at work. I had a little minor surgery. Then it was Thanksgiving.. Now the Christmas Season is upon us. Frankly, most of the things happening in my life were deeply personal and while I'll blog about divorce, being a single working mother, my amazing son, family, friends and faith... sometimes I'm hesitant to reveal too much about what's been going on personally, because well, someone once told me when you let other people into your relationships...you let them in to change your perspective. <br /><br />I have a wonderful, full filling and meaningful relationship with Marketing Boy and there is a very real part of me that doesn't feel the need to let people into it. It's that special.<br /><br />But there is an amazing story here that I want to document. So I will tell it and take all the advice and comments that will follow for what they are worth. My next series of blog posts will be about Marketing Boy, who going forward will be known as both Marketing Boy and Jay. But mostly Jay.<br /><br />Stay tuned. I'm working on some blogging goodness. Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-14711362975012800872009-11-24T14:46:00.005-06:002009-11-24T15:25:58.658-06:00Cole's Favorite Song<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbaYrvLLvS7hKmwCj0DFmAxA-aPz-Ko_hK_VH-sW4H612OFidSC3assI0FuwI84SKdrmj62xp6IEn6dulVIY-GpsU6QuoJSTAK4Qw1BxGcGfbBKAjYeT2todfNP5NVFflmbB4XIPtJwFY/s1600/Boston+%26+Spring+2009+104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbaYrvLLvS7hKmwCj0DFmAxA-aPz-Ko_hK_VH-sW4H612OFidSC3assI0FuwI84SKdrmj62xp6IEn6dulVIY-GpsU6QuoJSTAK4Qw1BxGcGfbBKAjYeT2todfNP5NVFflmbB4XIPtJwFY/s200/Boston+%26+Spring+2009+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407784273413475506" border="0" /></a><br />So if there is something that I would like to say I instill in my child (besides the obvious) up there in my book would be a love of music.<br /><br />Music helped me survive a less than ideal adolescence. Red hair is not the ideal. Neither is going through the normal girl stuff of weight gain, acne, puberty, and boobs (or lack there of)... you know the drill we all made it thru somehow... Playing a musical instrument and being in band (yes go ahead and laugh) offered me an escape from teasing.. and not being cool.<br /><br />Cole and I rarely drive around in a silent car. There is usually music..or my terrible singing, but the kiddo loves to shout " Jesus" which is "Jesus loves me" or "Spider" which is the itzy bitzy spider or "Ducky" which is the bath time song and have me sing whatever he desires on cue.<br /><br />Thankfully, most of the time it's iTunes. Since I've downloaded Michael Buble's newest album- Cole has claimed "Heartache Tonight" (yes he covers the Eagles) as his song. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAzVP1hxSb4&feature=PlayList&p=D856A5DABAE59E6A&index=18">Click here</a> to listen<br />for full effect...<br /><br />"Mommy play my song again!" I can put it on repeat and he bobs his head and we dance, clap, and look like a couple of crazy people. But the best part is... he sings along.. super cuteness.<br /><br />He sort of looks like a junior Buble with his snazzy hair and attitude right? Cole Porter..Cole Peterson... A Mom can dream...Holla!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-31245412309511666592009-10-12T12:53:00.008-05:002009-10-12T16:45:46.552-05:00A Pretty Perfect Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZsYPQVm1BECkAz0XwIfkqTkpqKjXRrAubIz4pXIA5K2qQb5ZKekGIWINnS8pgeUIhP7XG6ylcXMzVKd9bLYn_J7u7ElEE6pZJme1Iw7Oc05LSc2idB0gs0EkynQaDNvHJSeiTR_EPCrE/s1600-h/DSC_02520071.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZsYPQVm1BECkAz0XwIfkqTkpqKjXRrAubIz4pXIA5K2qQb5ZKekGIWINnS8pgeUIhP7XG6ylcXMzVKd9bLYn_J7u7ElEE6pZJme1Iw7Oc05LSc2idB0gs0EkynQaDNvHJSeiTR_EPCrE/s200/DSC_02520071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391778668290729250" border="0" /></a><br />If you are a parent- you probably get that rainy days and Mondays get you down in more than one way. Your kids can't get outside to go play and run off kid energy and just be a kid. Add multiple days of it and suddenly your kid has sprouted horns and is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">terrorizing</span> your home. Soccer is canceled indefinitely and you find yourself thinking REALLY hard about things you could do to entertain/engage them without plopping them in front of a TV or spending ridiculous amounts of money on going to the movies.<br /><br />Multiply kid/rain frustration times 3 and marketing boy and I had a recipe for disaster on Saturday- but it so wasn't. Cole and I met marketing boy and his crew at the Dream Cafe for breakfast because all soccer festivities were canceled... it was cold.. the coffee was hot and we conspired about how to keep three kids from going stir crazy.<br /><br />We took ourselves to the pumpkin patch and acquired three pumpkins suitable for carving. Set up my covered patio and got to work. Pumpkin carving has gotten "hard core" since my childhood days of drawing faces on the pumpkin with a magic marker and my parents trying not to slice off a finger taking the kitchen knife to the pumpkin... it's much more precise and detailed with carving sets and stencils and all kinds of other craziness.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASiAPOa1ws-zkm_hgBR6QLgWjgmvbnxMAr490VbDH0xQWhwno0nNH8GxorhdCAKr7nscCgIq2fK-rEHTQgBsFU9X_ghArcj18zVa5ilVPxGIhJxuxFFVQUJ59qtUb_vWA0dCuRqiqlfo/s1600-h/DSC_02360055.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASiAPOa1ws-zkm_hgBR6QLgWjgmvbnxMAr490VbDH0xQWhwno0nNH8GxorhdCAKr7nscCgIq2fK-rEHTQgBsFU9X_ghArcj18zVa5ilVPxGIhJxuxFFVQUJ59qtUb_vWA0dCuRqiqlfo/s200/DSC_02360055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391778295560143986" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Several hours later... we had three pumpkins carved, and I managed to make my yummy chicken corn chowder which received two votes of kid approval and one vehement disapproval... But it was all good because points were scored with all by making banana pudding as dessert.<br /><br />When it was dark we lit our pumpkins so Marketing Boy's kids could see them when they left for home. I bathed my kiddo who fell asleep watching Thomas the Tank engine five minutes after his bath... and collapsed myself not too long after. I don't think I even finished my glass of mommy juice- BUT all in all it was a pretty perfect day. We managed to keep three kids corralled, entertained and happy on a day that it could have been impossible to do so.<br /><br />Check out the pumpkins... Halloween is coming! I love me some Fall... this is my favorite time of year. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Holla</span>!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVRVVAB9pDY3DHYQ0VkQ80gNDvs0sy935CrnKGFi4AK6uIiTI5EQ-O2-b-v7tiOYdQPJPJu633NCMNSUm_gt1nGhQNGo-gmFNcN_OVLY-CVpz7w40EG8yqD6po-KF1b83QhhBaaFDMASs/s1600-h/DSC_02570076.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVRVVAB9pDY3DHYQ0VkQ80gNDvs0sy935CrnKGFi4AK6uIiTI5EQ-O2-b-v7tiOYdQPJPJu633NCMNSUm_gt1nGhQNGo-gmFNcN_OVLY-CVpz7w40EG8yqD6po-KF1b83QhhBaaFDMASs/s200/DSC_02570076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391779173650922002" border="0" /></a>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-75103621511739380662009-09-22T12:53:00.000-05:002009-09-22T15:54:25.035-05:00On Turning 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhm5d_Jtq0H_99OsUEfs-RwD8fnD5SO4ZNvy8WnxzgexyR2nR4Z4t4z3e5rh7eQBFz6w42WVfVUBXD6MdYG5DRpN3StxMN9QldIPSoytJZQvzKdD15IlGcMftiSN633cvNEjRKaSlkw4/s1600-h/DSC_02320001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhm5d_Jtq0H_99OsUEfs-RwD8fnD5SO4ZNvy8WnxzgexyR2nR4Z4t4z3e5rh7eQBFz6w42WVfVUBXD6MdYG5DRpN3StxMN9QldIPSoytJZQvzKdD15IlGcMftiSN633cvNEjRKaSlkw4/s200/DSC_02320001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394481733552194" border="0" /></a>My baby is not as much of a baby any more. As I brace myself for what the third year of life with Cole will mean- I also beat myself up for not taking more video or pictures of him... so I'll blog:<br /><br />There haven't been much of the terrible twos.. people have warned me that 3 is worse. Time will tell.. so as I think about the end of the second year- I'm amazed that children are absolute sponges. They pay attention to everything and miss nothing. Where I could previously proclaim "crap!" and it wouldn't be repeated.. not so much anymore.<br /><br />Things I love about my Bubba at this point in life: He still gives me big hugs in front of all of his buddies at school...He says "I juve you mama" and loves to snuggle. He can walk, talk and has this amazing little personality. And so I'll never forget- I'll update the current speech pattern for the world:<br /><ul><li>"mama wht's that?" it's a hybrid of who and what- but he generally wants to know who I'm talking to on the phone</li><li>"DDD"- translation "DVD".. and most of our viewing pleasure is Thomas the Train. The theme song haunts me in my sleep</li><li>Nok still means snack</li><li>"Mama you're happy?" generally occurs when he has displeased me or I am focused on something other than him</li><li>"Yay Mama!!" every time I go to the bathroom..he feels the need to be present for it first of all and secondly he feels the need to cheer me on</li><li>"Mama!! Jus tuck me in" translation- Mama just tuck me in. He wants me to put all of the blankets over him and then make a little baby burrito and say "snug as a bug in a rug" as I tuck the blankets under him</li><li>"CHEEESSEE" he hasn't quite learned how to take a picture</li><li>"I can do it by myself" translation- get away from me Mama I can do it</li><li>every type of meat is chicken<br /></li><li>we're obsessed with peanut butter</li><li>"pweez leave the door cwack" translation "please leave my bedroom door cracked" suddenly we're afraid of the dark or being alone- I can't decide which</li><li>"Mama- what we gonna do next?" the child likes to be on the go</li><li>"Mommy I want to hold you.." (meaning I hold him- but it's super cute)<br /></li><li>"Jus stay with me" translation Just stay here with me and snuggle or focus on what I'm showing you.<br /></li></ul>Things that I find particularly annoying about parenting a three (3) year old are faces like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilGJ1YYnq17l02bnL9j1ksyKfHVauPr86JraYwWNjoJU14RYDaQl9CcvP5K9zNXqpDaz7IurZKiCPESORBIPqbREv5BCuc_eCcoJXP3uBrokaj_mWU1xVxVXTsLjYlDSwV-Cq5odmDt6s/s1600-h/DSC_03090001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilGJ1YYnq17l02bnL9j1ksyKfHVauPr86JraYwWNjoJU14RYDaQl9CcvP5K9zNXqpDaz7IurZKiCPESORBIPqbREv5BCuc_eCcoJXP3uBrokaj_mWU1xVxVXTsLjYlDSwV-Cq5odmDt6s/s200/DSC_03090001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384390918073201730" border="0" /></a>To which we immediately get disciplined for not showing his mother respect.<br /><br />So far if I had to say anything about this age- it would be comparable to parenting a hybrid. A toddler who is trying oh so hard to be a little boy and it's going by much to quickly. It is definitely an adventure. With 3 I never know from day to day if he'll be clinging to me because he thinks I'm the greatest or ever so slightly pushing me away because he wants to be an independent little boy.<br /><br />Regardless, he remains the best thing to ever happen to me.. I can no longer imagine life without him and while it looks like I may never have any more children of my own... parenting Cole has changed me and my life miracously. In my pre-child life- I didn't really know that I was capable of unconditional love. I think that's why God gives us the ability to be a parent. I'm blessed to have this amazing little boy to raise into what I hope will be a great man. Happy Birthday Cole!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUR4RYwggYT_7EvY07TIrZUTUTOYTmnSRaIhsWGkp8SGvSN0K0nk69Qejiz_nxvZ1lfgtEKTIxuBgM8zYo58xUzA0I_gpfTqClWjywqC1skGT3b5hmU7kvrntIhusggfNAIt4ZMpophU/s1600-h/DSC_03130001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUR4RYwggYT_7EvY07TIrZUTUTOYTmnSRaIhsWGkp8SGvSN0K0nk69Qejiz_nxvZ1lfgtEKTIxuBgM8zYo58xUzA0I_gpfTqClWjywqC1skGT3b5hmU7kvrntIhusggfNAIt4ZMpophU/s200/DSC_03130001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384396817096528978" border="0" /></a>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-46969973714843005852009-09-16T11:08:00.014-05:002009-09-17T10:51:19.503-05:00A Different Kind of ChristianSo I have this friend who has also been through a divorce. There are kids .. and during the drop off the other night- the ex mother in law was watching the kids. She directed the kids to go into the house and came out with her Bible to have a chat. She proceeded to quote scripture about everything my friend had done wrong and how she felt betrayed and so on.<br /><br />And this woman calls herself a Christian. In her mind, she probably feels that she is a better Christian than you or me and maybe she is. But is this really peace with the Trinity that most Christians long for? Throwing the Bible in someones face and letting them know that you feel their existence is wrong and look we're going to manipulate scripture to paint the picture. Last time I checked- Jesus showed compassion and offered grace. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sometimes it feels like people use the Bible as a weapon</span><br /><br />If we're really Christians is it our place to judge other human beings? I don't think so. We'll all be judged at some point- maybe we should focus a little less on passing judgement on our fellow man and find some peace that there's a higher power that will be our judge and jury. Doesn't the scripture tell us to love one another as He has loved us. Is it really so wrong to get up every day and try to live your life the way you think you should, to pray, to confess, to try to do the right thing, and have your words and actions be reflective of your life as a Christian? When did it become okay to tell someone else how they should manage their walk with Christ? <br /><br />We all sin. We all get it wrong. We're all just human and hopelessly broken. If you're really a Christian and a disciple in Christ- do you embrace the weary or do you throw your Bible at them and walk away? Why do some people feel entitled to pick and choose who is worthy of God's love?<br /><br />No wonder so much of the American population is un-churched. It occurs to me, that either her God is different than mine or she's just a different kind of Christian.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-1020281561720657212009-09-02T10:47:00.004-05:002009-09-02T11:16:48.288-05:00Life In the CompoundI affectionately call my new office building- the compound. I've nicknamed it the compound because they make it nearly impossible for you to leave the damn place. It's a ten minute hike to and from my car- which is good and bad. I'm starting to enjoy my strolls into the office now that the mornings are cooling off.<br /><br />So when it's impossible to leave- it's a good thing there is a cafeteria on site. There is always coffee and fresh produce. I tend to wander down there daily for a piece of fruit, coffee, or a beverage. I have a favorite cashier. I always say "Hi! How are you?" She always gives me two responses : "Some days are harder than others" or " I'm blessed" She's pretty consistent with it. For the past week it has been "Some days are harder than others" and my response is generally hang in there or I hope things get better for you or something encouraging... But the other day as I was getting my pineapple- She smiled and said "I'm blessed" I put down my wallet, looked at her and said "It's about time you shook off what ever was dragging you down?" She and the cashier sitting next to her looked at me like I'd sprouted wings or something... She couldn't believe I was paying attention.. I assured her I was. This morning when I got my coffee she smiled again and said "I'm blessed.." The sad part is I don't even know her name. I'll make sure and ask her next time..but for weeks I've known I would get one of the two responses. I've said little prayers for her as I was walking back to my desk... "Lord please help her with whatever is weighing on her heart" maybe He listened.<br /><br />Such is life. We all have things weighing on us living in this day and age. Life is simply hard. But I guess my question is : Do we make it harder by putting all of these burdens and expectations on ourselves? I do. I need to get better about saying "I'm blessed" rather than stressing myself out over the small stuff. Because the truth is, perceptive people pay attention. My toddler asks me frequently when he thinks he or something has displeased me " Mama- You're Happy?" This is generally when it hits me that I need to shake it off and focus on all that is right with my life, instead of what isn't.<br /><br />Have a great day. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Holla</span>!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-89278314092625342532009-08-28T09:55:00.004-05:002009-08-28T11:39:13.217-05:00Do What?So I'm walking around the campus of my office this week.. and I really appreciate that my client is so active in the community. They are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">environmentally</span> conscious and when you're working on warehouse/manufacturing real estate requirements- it makes me sleep a little better at night. All in all, they are a great company that cares about the community, their employees and the value of their product. So as far as clients go- I couldn't really ask for more.<br /><br />I office on site with Frito Lay in Plano. The campus is nice... and the biggest perk is that we get a free bag of chips every day- <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">even though</span> I try to refrain. So I'm making one of my 10,000+ trips to the restroom every day because I drink a lot of water.. and everywhere in the hallway are these <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fliers</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu07ciCxeiaeb8R4hi6_Opf_odoFUmo5B0rSzGN-MFBdEmiV9cajrdk1njKwK18Y8BHiTd5ujeIblmKQiRpLXWRlckvR1E1w5mQ-Kv7O656uiL3RX37ZKzA1VmfhURdDdDgKRaOiE4c3I/s1600-h/Frito+Pie+Sale.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375045778888348978" style="WIDTH: 273px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu07ciCxeiaeb8R4hi6_Opf_odoFUmo5B0rSzGN-MFBdEmiV9cajrdk1njKwK18Y8BHiTd5ujeIblmKQiRpLXWRlckvR1E1w5mQ-Kv7O656uiL3RX37ZKzA1VmfhURdDdDgKRaOiE4c3I/s200/Frito+Pie+Sale.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I think to myself... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hmm</span>? We're really going to raise money for the Heart Walk by selling Frito Chili Pie.. Never mind that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Fritos</span> (while tasty on occassion) have a boat load of fat, calories, oil, and salt..before we add the chili or the cheese.<br /><br />We're all going to be heart patients after this... good thing we're raising money. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Holla</span>!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-82099066213035322462009-08-23T12:00:00.002-05:002009-08-24T14:12:24.609-05:00We're Just FriendsI turned on Good Morning America last week and was somewhat shocked that Steve Harvey had joined the crew. His segment on this particular day was addressing "<em>can men and women just be friends?" </em>and his new book: <em>Act like a Lady- Think like a Man</em>. The segment started off by bringing up the classic movie <em>When Harry Met Sally</em> and how Billy Crystal proclaimed early on that men and women can't be friends- because the sex part always gets in the way.<br /><br />I grabbed my coffee, put my laptop down and settled in to see what would happen on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">GMA</span>. My girlfriend called me and shouted "are you watching this?" uh huh. I was.<br /><br />Check it out: <a href="http://www.abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=8359557">http://www.abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=8359557</a><br /><br />Basically, Steve Harvey said that when considering outside relationships you have to ask yourself "What good does this relationship bring to your marriage"<br />I think this is an intriguing point of contention. It has been debated by my closest friends and I. It's been an issue in relationships for a very long time What's appropriate? What's inappropriate? Especially when there is a vast amount of gray area on either side.<br /><br />I work in a predominately male field. When I travel, I'm usually the only female on the trip. When I'm in meetings it's usually me and the boys. I don't mind it. My brother trained me well. So my rules are generally, if it's a business lunch, drink, or dinner- I sort of have to go- but I think there is absolutely a way to be respectful of your relationship with it. Stay for one or two drinks instead making a night of it. Invite someone else from the office to go with you for lunch. But above all I think it's about communication.. when you fail to disclose the plans- you create doubt.<br /><br />I had a very good friend that I worked with when I started out in the industry. We were close. He mentored me on how to do a deal. We crossed over to being more than business friends. I <strong><em>only</em></strong> ever thought of him as a friend. We would get lunch a couple of times a week. We would <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">occasionally</span> go for happy hour. When I started dating my now ex husband- he let me know that he'd like to be more than friends.. I was taken a back. I didn't think of it like that? It was then that my good friend educated me-- he said "Ashley- men never take a friendship to the level of ours if they don't want something more." I sort of lost one of my good friends. Sure, even after this we still had the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">occasional</span> lunch and ran into each other at business happy hours, but it wasn't ever the same. He later married and we didn't see each other for the first several years of his marriage (other than at business functions). But he called me last week, and wants to have lunch.. I politely made sure this was something he'd cleared with his wife (because I know and respect her), and if I go- I'll let my significant other know. He's a business colleague and it is all about networking- but some might consider this crossing the line? (Especially those interviewed on the show)<br /><br />Regardless, I think the key to maintaining or having relationships with people of the opposite sex is to never act in a way that would cause your spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend/special friend/person or any of the above to doubt your intentions. If your significant other read that text or email- would they have an issue? Could it be misunderstood? If they knew you had lunch,dinner, or drinks with that person would it make them uncomfortable? If you're seeking out situations that are socially okay to flirt with the opposite sex are you really happy and fulfilled in your own relationship?<br /><br />What's okay with business friendships or friendships with the opposite sex in general? Can Men and Women just be friends? I think so. Especially if it's friend of your "relationship" meaning you both know and have something in common with the person or they are a couple friend.<br /><br />OR you could take Steve Harvey's approach and just not do it. I'd love to get your comments! Most of my blog followers have had successful, affair proof marriages- so let me know what you think!<br /><br />Happy Monday! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Holla</span>!!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8385198827193921741.post-71378619113268804792009-08-19T13:41:00.007-05:002009-08-20T15:28:57.269-05:00I should have stayed in bedI should have stayed in bed this morning. As the alarm chimed in at a little before 7am I was having a great dream about a home purchase and my plans to make it awesome...then I woke up.<br /><br />Cole had a couple of crying out bursts last night, and the dogs were restless combine the two and I was up every couple of hours... and when you're someone who needs a good solid 7 hours of sleep- this was mistake no. 1.<br /><br />Marketing Boy is in LA today pitching some new business so I had Joey plus his dog Dude. I let the pups out this morning.. fed them.. watered them... took my shower..watched some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">GMA</span></span> while getting ready for the day. Downed some coffee... all in all a normal morning. The dogs now have a dog run in the back part of my back yard.. I go out through the garage and to the side gate to let them in and out.<br /><br />Cole and I are in a hurry to get out the door today. I'm trying to meet up with Chris for a Cole exchange and make it to work for a meeting. We go out through the garage- he can now climb into his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">car seat</span>- the plan was for me to let the dogs out of the yard- let them into the house and buckle Cole in..<br /><br />Mistake No. 2- Cole and I left the door between the house and the garage open. Picture it.. open garage door.. open door into the house.. open car door where my kid is waiting for me to buckle him in (all within 10 feet of each other ) I trot over the gate to let my puppies out... if you're really picturing it- you should know that I was in a hurry this morning and was walking around without the strap of my sandal/heel buckled.. white <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">button</span></span> down shirt.. white skirt with flowers on it...<br /><br />As I open the gate, I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">unknowingly</span> release two 45 pound mud balls who are suppose to be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Australian</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Shepards</span></span>...they are excited and greet me by jumping up on me.. knock me down.. I land smack on my *<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ss</span></span>.. they manage to give me a muddy puppy greeting and they are making a mad dash into my house...<br /><br />It's slow motion at this point " <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">NNNNNOOOOO</span></span>" I yell. I jump up and run in after them.. it's at this point that I cross over to crazy... I'm fairly pissed and start trying to get the dogs to obey.. no such luck. They ran laps through my house-- muddy... it's at this point that I vaguely remember cussing and finally getting them and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">herding</span> them into their kennels (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">i'm</span></span> not proud). Apparently I was really loud because when I went to the open door to collect my kiddo he was sitting in his car seat with his hand over his mouth looking like "who is this crazy woman masquerading as my mom?"<br /><br />Acting like a crazy person was probably mistake no. 3. I call Chris- she's a saint, and nearby and offers to come collect Cole... there is some relief.<br /><br />When she got to my house- it was clear that the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Tasmanian</span> Devil just destroyed it. I give Cole hugs.. send him on his way.. and then I decide to just sit down with my muddy skirt, my muddy legs, hands and house and cry... I'm seriously contemplating dropping the dogs at the pound on my way to work. It's not necessarily the dogs that made me want to cry.. More like it's just the icing on my two weeks of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">crappiness</span></span> as a cake. There's no way for me to get cleaned up, change my clothes and get to work in time for my meeting.. I was looking like a mess... I had muddy dog prints in EVERY room of my house.. and two muddy dogs in kennels staring me down.<br /><br />It's morning like this that you just have to declare defeat. Sometimes you just need to cry and move on..it's cleansing sometimes.. I wasn't sure what to do first, clean up the house before the muddy dog prints set into my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Berber</span> carpet-or scrap it and get my butt to work? Did I mention I only had my carpets cleaned two months ago?<br /><br />It doesn't really matter what happened next... but I made peace with the dogs before I left, they forgave me and I didn't leave them at the pound or post a ad on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Craigslist</span></span>.. and I have more mess to clean up when I get home..<br /><br />I'm a lucky girl and I know it.. but here lately I feel like all I do is try to clean up the mess I've made of my life. But like my muddy house, dogs, and self- I'll figure it out. We all have to... right?Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01292078964470786335noreply@blogger.com0