Tuesday, August 15, 2017

This isn't how it's supposed to be...

I am shaken to my core. My stomach is turning. This just keeps getting worse. I want to hug my kids so tight and tell them that this isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't the America I know, the America they deserve; the America everyone deserves.

I want to hug them so tight and look into their eyes so deeply that I can see their souls and tell them that everyone is equal. Everyone. I want to tell them again and again that they are no better than anyone else; especially not because of the color of their skin or the religion they practice (they may tell you they aren't sure what religion we practice). I want to hold them by their shoulders like I do when they've pissed me off and tell them that hate and evil and anger like is being displayed in our country right now, has NO HOME HERE. I want to tell them that silence is no longer an option. These actions, this hate, the words coming from the leader of our country have to be denounced in the most certain and strongest terms. This is NOT WHO WE ARE.

If I did those things right now, while my blood is boiling and my stomach is turning, I would probably scare them. So I'm writing it here. That's one of the big reasons I started writing here again, to give myself an outlet. It's a place to put thoughts on paper and maybe a few people can relate. Maybe a few people will nod their heads or virtually fist bump in solidarity.

Hate has no home at the Best's part.

Monday, August 14, 2017

Kindness Rocks.

I had other posts in the works for my first posts post blog resurrection. This one is more timely.

Ignorance terrifies me. 

Ignorance makes people afraid of things they know nothing about. It lets shallow (mis)conceptions and anything that strays from the norm, anything different, paralyze someone with fear. And that fear, turns to anger and to hate. The actions that result from that hate are terrifying

What happened in Charlottesville, Virginia this weekend makes my stomach turn. The images of young, white men with anger in their eyes and hate in their hearts are terrifying. Hate. I can’t get my head around how someone can have enough energy, enough malice, that they hate someone they know nothing about only because of the color of their skin or what religion they chose to practice. I do not and will not ever understand it. And it shakes me to my core that in our country, in 2017, this is happening. 

Our reach, from this little suburban bubble, isn’t far. But we have three innocent souls, three little  people who don’t know hate. They don’t know hate because you aren’t born knowing how to hate someone or something. That is a learned behavior. It will not be learned in this house. Hate has no place here. I refuse to let our kids grow up thinking they are better than anyone else for any reason. 

The hate that happened in Charlottesville has to be countered with love, so much more love and kindness than the hate that was spewed there. Those people, they don’t represent the majority of us and we won’t let their message be stronger than ours. 

At the beginning of the summer I saw a story somewhere (maybe on the news but most likely on Facebook— that’s where you get your news, right?) about Kindness Rocks. The concept is simple. You paint a rock and you leave it somewhere for someone to find. We grabbed some spray paint and some sharpies and got to work on our rocks. We wrote messages on the rocks like, “Be the good” and “Love is greater than hate” and my personal favorite “Have a great summer” from the 8 year old. After what happened in Charlottesville on Saturday, Sunday seemed like the perfect day to spread some love; to share some joy.  But more than that, it was an opportunity to teach our kids that love wins and that spreading kindness, even in the smallest way in our little community, goes a long way. 

By Monday morning I already had a post on my Facebook page about a rock spotting! The kids were so excited (LBS* so was I) that someone had already found one of our rocks and that it made them smile! AND THEN I found a Facebook page (with the help of a friend who is way more in touch than I am) and people had already found our local rocks and shared pictures! 

I'm not a DIY'r so I Googled to make sure our rocks didn't rot or peel. I'll save you the trouble of Googling.
Step 1: find some rocks (we live in Florida and they think they are landscaping here so ours came from our yard)
Step 2: spray paint the rocks (if you get it on your brick pavers by accident your husband will forgive you... or at least I'm hoping that's his plan)
Step 3: write messages in Sharpie on the rocks (you can also # them with #thekindnessrocksproject but that # was too long for some of our rocks)
Step 4: spray rocks with an acrylic sealer
Step 5: put your rocks all over the place

Step 6: corner your kids in the car and explain to them what happened (in kid terms) in Charlottesville and remind them of how important it is in your family to be kind and that love is greater than hate and that we are ALL EQUAL.
Step 7: unlock car doors and let them out

I thought I was the last person to hear of Kindness Rocks. I'm usually slow on these trends and also most trends (think booties, skinny jeans, coconut oil). But according to my Facebook and IG feeds I wasn't the last to learn of it which is why I'm sharing it here.

LBS: Corey lingo for Let's Be Serious

where I belong.

I've been thinking about writing again. I mean, that's what I want to do when I grow up, I want to write. I want to write about life and facing challenges and parenting and wife-ing and being kind. I want to write about things I'm passionate about. Things I am good at (drinking wine, sentence fragments, and sometimes parenting, for instance) and things I struggle with (sometimes parenting and doing laundry, just as examples).

If I want to be a writer, if I want to write things real humans will read and take an interest in, then I have to just do it. I have to write again. I have to put myself out there. That's the scary part. 'Hello Internet! Here I am, at my most vulnerable, please enjoy. And be kind. Pretty please.' Because I can't be interesting and not be vulnerable. I can't relate to people and not share my life, our lives, us, me, them, all of it, if I'm not me. Authentic, flawed, slightly neurotic, total type-A, lovable, straight-shooting, kind of a pain in the ass, but mostly good, me. Right?

This is an old blog. A really old blog. I've spent some time lately, as I considered resurrecting it, reading old posts.

I started this blog when I was 28. It was the summer of 2009. We had one kiddo and were living in the midwest. I was still working in television and damn, we were young. 

Now it's the summer of 2017. I'm 36 years old, we have three kids and I haven't worked in television since 2011. Now I dabble in photography and mostly just strive to shower before 5pm. We live in Florida now; our second stop in the sunshine state. This one is basically on the equator, or I'm pretty sure it is (mental note: buy at globe on next week's Homegood's trip). 

I only read back 12 or 15 posts. I posted 525 times on this blog! 525! I'm sure some of those are like watching paint dry. And I'm sure there are a lot about trying to lose 10 pounds (story of my life). And there are probably posts about being pregnant and having a baby and a toddler. Probably some good stories too. 

When I decided that I needed to start writing again I debated starting a new blog or giving a new life to this one. I read posts that I wrote after my Grandmother died, and posts about watching my kids personalities develop. I decided this is where I belong. Sure, if you're bored (I mean you'd have to be laid up bedridden and have reached the end of Netflix and the internet) you could learn a lot about us, very little of it that interesting. But this is where I started blogging, and if I'm going to commit to writing again, this is where I belong. The Best's part.

So, without further adieu. Hello Internet! Here I am, at my most vulnerable, please enjoy. And be kind. Pretty please. I plan to share life, laughs, eye rolls, joys and sadnesses. I plan to share what works for me and for us. And what doesn't work. It's not sugar coated, it's real. This is me. This is us. This is life. Join me, won't you?

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

once every two years.

Oh hi. So it's been a while. For some reason I got the urge to blog today. I was in the garage working out while the baby napped and the big kids were at camp and I was considering updating my Facebook status with what basically amounts to a blog post. And here it is.  

I should bring you up to speed (if there are any of you left). The aforementionted baby is probably the biggest news. My water broke on Mother's day morning, I opted to go to brunch and have two mimosas (judge away) before checking into the hospital (thrid baby, hello!?!) and five minutes after Mother's Day Finley Scott (that's her up there) entered our lives. She's perfection. Just like the big kids. There's a lot of background, like why we decided to have a third, how the kids are handling it, my pregnancy, how I forgot that breast feeding is a full time job, all of that, that if I continue to blog I will share. But if not, just know that six weeks in we've hit a stride and things are good.

But on having a third kid. I was reflecting today while I stood in the kitchen at 4pm staring at breakfast dishes still on the counter, a pile of Pokemon cards, bills, junk mail and a passy. I was (and still am) unshowered and wearing my second pair of workout pants of the day, and had just gotten home from an unsuccessful hunt for shorts that fit my 'fourth trimester'  ass. I could have melted. My post first or post second baby self might have melted. But I didn't. I didn't cry. I didn't flip out. I didn't even do the dishes. It'll all get done eventually. I'm zen. Obviously. Or my priorities have undergone a major shift in the last six weeks. Either way, it's all good, and probably really good for my Type A self. 

But what I've noticed about being a Mom of three is that everything I do accomplish in a day feels like a major victory. Major. 

Got a shower? I deserve a ribbon. Got a workout in before the shower?  Blue ribbon. Everyone was where they needed to be when they needed to be there without any help from my amazing village?  Someone make me a cake. Went to the grocery store with all three kids and no one died or cried? I deserve a damn ticker tape parade. 

I'm sure this will wear off and I will no longer desire high fives from complete strangers for bathing three kids and getting them in bed before 8, but until then I'll celebrate the victories (albeit small ones) and let the rest of it go. It'll all get done eventually. 

The last time I blogged was April of 2013. So don't get too excited (Dad).

Thursday, April 25, 2013


I have this poor, neglected, blog.  It's sad.  I make promises I can't keep.  So I'm not making a promise today.  Cause history has shown, I suck at saying I'm gonna blog over here on the regular.  But I did get a note on my new photography blog from a loyal reader asking me when I'm gonna blog for reals.  One person misses me.  It's kinda nice.

And today it's appropriate that I write because I just went back and read this post from almost 2 years ago.  When I potty trained Cannon less than a month before moving a thousand miles away while I was on my own and hubs was already in FL working.  This morning we made the pilgrimage to Walmart.  Bought the princess underwear and we're on the way.  It's been 10 minutes.  No accidents.  Winning.  So far.  She's been going on occasion and when she went twice on the potty last night then again this morning I decided there's no time like the present.  Here's hoping it sticks.  And hoping maybe you'll get an update.  If you need us we'll be at home in our underwear.  Gotta support the girl!

Some other stuff.

I'm debating making my photography blog a photography and personal blog.  Cause I don't need two Facebook pages, two blogs, and two kids and I already have two of two of those.  Not sure if combining the two will drive people away or draw them into my web, right where I want them... bwah ha ha ha.

I've lost 15 pounds this year.  And kept all of it off.  I did Weight Watchers.  Now I have five pounds to lose and I think it's gonna take voodoo.  Or a magic spell.  Cause I'm over the WW.  Or I need a break.  Or something.  Either way, the good news is I'm not gaining weight.  Not losing it either.  Also I should probably want to lose 10 pounds but I think that would require quitting drinking and that's just simply not an option.

Read something about flax seed and unsweetened cranberry juice jump starting loss of the last five pounds.  Got the flax seed.  Couldn't find unsweetened juice.  So.  If I ever find that, maybe I'll try it.  I mean if it works for Rebecca Romijn it should work for me. Right?

I have the most awesomest friends around.  Thought you should know.

Can someone explain to me how to teach a 4 year old the concept of tomorrow?  It's the day after this day.  Friday is tomorrow.  Then every morning, is it tomorrow?  Well, kind of but no...

Alright.  Not bad for the first time back.  And who knows, could be another three months.  But maybe not.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013


Oh hi. Remember me? Probably not.  That's ok.  Sometimes something is going on and rather than telling everyone you see or screaming it from the mountain tops, you just blog about it.  So I'm blogging.

I spent the majority of the year last year 'trying' to lose weight.  Let me back up.  I'm not someone people look at and think 'she should lose some weight' (sidenote: if you look at people and think that you probably need to take a look in the mirror).  But by my BMI and my own standards, I am was overweight.  Baby fat around my belly.  Extra in my boobs.  It was there.  So I committed to working out, in a major way.  Boot camps at 5am, running more than ever before (cause before I didn't run).  Six, sometimes seven days a week.  I dropped carbs for a bit.  Wine for a hot minute.  I counted calories (using myfitnesspal which basically all but starved me).  I think the most I lost all year last year was 5 pounds.  And by the end of the year I had gained it back and added a few extra holiday pounds.  I never quit exercising.  Who knows what would have happened if I did.  It wouldn't have been pretty.

I blogged about how I couldn't lose weight. I all but begged my doctor to diagnose me with a thyroid problem.  I searched for any and all possible causes for what Google thought might be wrong with me.  I took fad supplements.  I cried.  I got angry.  But I didn't lose the weight.  Did I mention this went on almost and entire year?  A YEAR.  That's a long damn time.

January 2, 2013.  The day I joined Weight Watchers.

People my age (which by the way isn't all that young anymore) don't do weight watchers.  It's for people who are really overweight.  It won't work for me.  Crap, that's all crap.

I am telling you right now, I believe.  I have bought in HOOK LINE AND SINKER.  This is no joke.  I went in hoping for amazing.  I mean have you SEEN Jennifer Hudson?  And Jessica Simpson?  These are famous women who are NORMAL.  Who love food.  And it worked for them.  And guess what?  I'm not famous, but I love food.  And it's working for me!

On Friday I will weigh in for the fourth time, so my third weigh in since being on the program.  In that time (according to my scale at home), I've lost 10 pounds.  10.  Freaking.  Pounds.  And, it gets better.  5 inches.  5.  I could cry while I type this.  I'm sitting here in jeans I bought when I was in college and they button comfortably.  I don't even care that they're from Abercrombie and are stone washed with a huge hole in the knee.  Don't even care.  They button.  So I'm freaking wearing 'em.

I'm not aiming to weigh what I did when we got married almost 8 years ago.  I know that's not realistic.  Nor was my diet them on Slimfasts and Lean Cuisines for every meal.  Oh and fountain diet coke by the gallon.  I've had two kids since then.  My body is different.  But 10 more pounds and you'll never hear me complain about my weight again.

Ok, enough patting myself on the back.  Here's what I am doing that is (I think) making the difference for me:

I exercise.  I like to exercise. I love a good workout.  So the motivation isn't the problem but just exercise for me wasn't enough.  And I counted calories last year too, it didn't work.  I think I was eating too few calories and it wasn't sustainable.  So I joined WW and I'm doing the FULL program.  Not just online because I don't trust myself to be accountable to myself (hello? all year last year...).  So I'm doing the full program where every Friday morning I go stand on a scale in front of a stranger and we both look at my weight.  My ego is too big and I'm far too embarrassed to not lose at least a little weight.  I've been to one meeting and I really liked it.  Not sure I need the meetings but I'm 100% certain I need the stranger to hold me accountable.  LBS it's not like your husband is going to tell you to not eat something.

Also.  I don't use a lot of my cheat points.  I figure if I can exist within my daily points and use a few cheats on the weekend then I'll hit my goal more quickly.  I save the cheats for drinks on the weekend.

I am not drinking wine.  Even if it's within my points for the day, I'm on a hiatus.  The amount of sugar that's in wine is detrimental to me and it's horrible because I love wine.  So I either need to drink it only in the morning or I am just going to have it on occasion.  Right now it's on occasion.  I am still drinking.  Vodka and diet tonic or soda.  Maybe a light beer (but I hate beer.... like really hate).  Nothing to excess.  So I'm not nearly as much fun.  But that's ok.  It's better for me and my liver.

I'm not hungry.  I'm eating a lot more fruits and veggies than I was before.  And it's coming off. Finally.