Baby Girl...

She has her hand resting on her forehead as if to say "enough already...darn paparazzi." I am so excited. I cannot wait until March 26th, which happens to be my mom's birthday. I know that the date is not set in stone and she will make her glorious presence whenever she feels the need, but it is fun to say that she will be Granna's gift.

My husband and I returned from New York last week and had a wonderful time. Thank you Courtney for all of your recommendations. We were there only 3 days but felt like a week! We took in a show and basically ate our way through the city. It was exhilarating to see the marathon and all of the cheering friends and family members in Central Park.

It was good to return to a quiet home after the busy city. My house guest made his leave before we departed, which I hope goes well for him. I pray that we all find our way.

And so it goes...

I have two sisters, one sister in law and three brother in laws, a big melting pot of extended family that puts the fun in dysfunction.

My family (two sisters and one of the brother in laws) live in Louisville. My husband’s family is closer, here in Maryland and one brother in law is even closer, as in, here…staying in my home.

This along with being 4 and ½ months pregnant is my current struggle. My brother in law is an addict. He was doing great in a program but he lost his way and fell off that bumpy wagon and my husband was quickly called to scoop him up into the safety of our home. It has been 11 long days of worrying and anxiety.

He has stayed with us before. It ended badly. Drugs, a prostitute, my guest bedroom and a warrant were involved.

This is my frame of reference, this is the corner of my mind from where I draw the conclusion to my questions of “what to expect”. I have been supportive, well semi-supportive of my husband, my brother in law is still in our home. I am beginning to resent my brother in law. He has not attempted to help himself once since arriving. He has not had a drink, and while this IS a big step for an addict, I cannot help but think that being a recluse in your brother’s home is any way to help work on the real problem.

The “where to next” has not been defined. My husband and I fight nightly and either the baby is growing at a rapid speed or I have an ulcer.

My family is in Louisville. I think about going. I can’t. I won’t. But right now, in my own home I feel I am the one with the problem.

Thank You Ma'am...

Well it is official I am a Ma’am. I stopped for gas the other day and the young boy working (who I see all the time and have never been anything but joking and cool with him) told me “thank you Ma’am” to which I smiled and shook my head and said “oooh don’t call me Ma’am” and of course he replied “sorry Ma’am”, to which I replied “Damn”.

I appreciate manners. I grew up in a household where manners were required, and taught at a very young age. In addition to the usual Please and Thank you, when replying yes or no to a question we would have to include Sir or Ma’am in our response, especially to grandparents and parents, that was HUGE and if forgotten would result in a “what do you say” from my mom or dad. I guess a lot of people think it is a southern “thing” but I always thought it was just good manners. When asking “can I” my Papa would always respond “I don’t know can you” to which a quick “may I” would follow. Now that I am having a child of my own I struggle with the Ma’am and Sir response, should I teach this, will it be over the top…will someone *ahem* cuss at my child for using these precious manners?

I guess it all falls into place, I mean I still use the manners I was taught daily and surly little effers that have no manners drive me insane, so I guess like all things a happy medium is where you end up, and you just have to be thankful for what your children absorb.

But I still hate being a Ma’am because in my manners lessons it meant you were old.

~S

Beginnings, Blessings and Being.

So today is the day I shall share…71 days…pregnant.

Scared. Nervous. Anxious. Excited. Scared.

I have a flurry of emotions, the hormone party I am currently hosting is to blame for the most part. But above that, I have always known my body, when something was wrong I knew what, how to fix it, which Doctor to call, which medicine to take. Now that I am sharing this body I am scared. I am scared that I do not know anything, that I might mess up the very thing I have been trying so hard to make happen. I have a niece and 3 nephews. I have watched my sisters thrive in their pregnancies and have watched many friends have beautiful babies. I keep thinking “just stay and grow” as if my body, the one I have know so well may turn on me and allow he\she to simply walk away.

I am focusing on the positive, preparing for each new trimester, first over now onto the second. One down two to go. I guess my thinking is normal. I guess I fear that speaking these thoughts to my friends and family will make me seem naïve or depressed or negative. So I type because it is less intimidating and honestly I don’t think or feel that I am naive or depressed or negative.

I am beginning my 2nd trimester. I am blessed. I am very blessed, and I am happy. But right now I think I am just Scared. Nervous. Anxious. Excited. Scared. and for right now on this 71st day that is how I am...that is me.

~S

Stress...

I travel everyday over this bridge...to and from work, it is why I have road rage, or bridge rage as it is often referred. But every now and then, the beauty of the water and the bridge captivate me. I have witnessed the most amazing fog, that lies directly above the water and makes you question what is below. However, this weekend was definitely a tough bridge weekend. Saturday required a trip to the "Western Shore" to go to the Doctor at 10AM. The traffic heading back across was a good 2 hour back up. Crazy! So I visited with friends, browsed a couple of my favorite shops and then picked up my husband at the airport and headed home at 9 PM. Days like Saturday make me ram my head on the steering wheel as to why we moved over the bridge.

Then yesterday as if God heard my cry of possible insanity he gave a day of glory and made the picture abundantly clear as to why we moved...

As if he said "relax...take a load off". So I did. It was a perfectly relaxing Sunday, the sun, my hammock and a book!

Hope everyone had an amazing weekend! ~S

Oh I wish

My husband would go for this...

I love these floors. I want these floors, oh and the wicker chairs...would take those too!

~S

My front door dilemna...

My front door used to be white. I am not crazy about the door, as I would love to have a really sweet old wooden door. However this is the door that came with the house and it is staying until I can convince my husband otherwise! We painted the door a pale blue/aqua we were going for a beachy theme, as we live on the water in a cedar house. Anyway, I liked the door at first, then I started thinking it was toooo much as the door is too modern for such a dramatic color, now I just don't know...take a peak, tell me what you think.

Before ~ Boring!
After~Better?My grass looks so green! I wish it were still this green.
Have a great day!
~S

YUMMMM

My husband hates one of my favorite meals, so without telling him what we were having, I made fish tacos! If you are fan of fish tacos try these, they are a little different and the ingredients are a little weird at first, but the flavors meld together perfectly...they are AWESOME!

Ingredients:
Mahi
Carrots
Olives
Scallions
Sour Cream
Dill (or store bought dill sauce)

To make: marinte mahi for 10 minutes in with fresh lime juice, olive oil and salt and pepper. Heat grill. While fish is marinating chop carrots, olives and scallions. Mix dill and sour cream.
(amounts will vary depending on how much of which ingredient you like more...with mine it appears in the picture I am in love with sour cream) Grill the fish for 4 minutes on each side (may be longer depending on size and thickness of fish). Break fish into pieces place into white corn torilla and top with olives, carrots, scallions and dill sauce. Eat.

Let me know if you try them.

Enjoy!

~S

Found Beauty

My family has traveled back home to Louisville (I will post pictures soon) and I am wrapping things up in my soon to be old office. Things are hectic, I am waiting to hear from prospective employers, and wondering if I really want to hear from the employers to whom I have sent my resume, I am thinking about changing things up all together, nervous what changing things up means...

Anyway in all of this confusion and the muddled thoughts that pour through my brain I found time to stop and smell the roses, my nose was my cell camera and the rose was this awesome rainbow that seems to lift from the Bay as if saying ~ look at me. take a breathe. life goes on. even after this storm. the sun is still shining.

I have changed my outlook from holy crap what am I going to do to an outlook of what can I do, what do I want to do! I am beginning a journey and the pot of gold at the end will be the satisfaction that I have found work or a job or a talent or whatever I CHOOSE that makes me truly happy.

~S

Napoleon ain't got nothin' on me...

This is quite possibly the best picture my sister has taken of my nephew to date, if not the best, the funniest. My nephew, Cal, has no idea who Napoleon Dynamite is and quite frankly he does not care. His imagination rules his world. I called the house the other day to a 3 year old voice announcing "911 we have a fire at our house".

But this picture...the shorts, the ski boots (also known as Spiderman shoes), the full belly...I could hug him for hours!

Missing the kiddos! 1 week and counting to the best visit of the summer!

~S

My Security Blanket

When I was younger I had a yellow waffle knit blanket that had possibly a brown bunny and maybe green frog printed on the fabric? Was this my security blanket? I don't know, I do know that it is the only blanket that is in the treasure troves of my "keep box" sitting high upon my bedroom shelf at my parent’s house. I keep thinking that if I had a security blanket today would I use it? Would it bring me the same comfort from bedroom monsters? I have been thinking and wondering, do we actually possess a pseudo security in our grown lives? In that thought I have been racking my brain that if I did have a security...something, what would it be? Do I carry it with me often and just not associate the fact that I have it with me as keeping me secure. If so, what in our adult lives do we need security from, not monsters and if we do not need protection the question is then is a security something more of a habit?

So after thinking of what is on my person the most, I have come up with...drum roll please....my jean jacket. I noticed it with me in the picture in my previous post, I notice it either on, in my purse or draped over my arm in many pictures. I love my jean jacket, even with it’s' holes and tears from my abnormally pointy, bony elbows. I trust that it will keep me warm on cool days as well as in air conditioned rooms and that it will shield the rain from my hair so as to prevent a day of frizz. I love my denim jacket with the pink stitching (replacing the kaki stitched look alike that had to be put down due to elbow holes too big to hide) I never leave home with out it, I trust that it will fulfill its purpose and darn it, I look good... So I rely on my jean jacket to get me through cool nights, cool days, whether happy or sad, dress up or dress down...(with the exception of jeans, I have never been a fan of the denim suit) I have security in my jacket. What is your security/habit/freaky weird personal possession?
*** That's right my friends, she was there that day too! Just for the after party, it was October!


~S

A Little Sisterly Love

My sister visited this weekend. After the life altering events of last week I was really feeling blue until she arrived. I tried boosting my spirits with my amazing self held self help pep talks, however they did not raise my mood and led me to question whether talking to yourself in the car on the way to a job which you no longer work was actually a) safe, as I drive over a 7 mile bridge and b) a sign that possibly I should be talking to someone else.

Back to my sister, Ann brought some light on the subject and my mood, we laughed, laid by the pool and played cards. I miss her already. I wish my sister Erin could have joined us, but alas we will all be together in 2 weeks and I am counting the days.

I am truly doing some major soul searching, looking to what drives me, and what makes me happy. I am going to focus inward to find the answers and hopefully a recipe for happiness.

~S

Goodbye Old Life...

It's done. I quit...or wait was I fired? The comment "we should part ways" was used by my boss, so which is it, the chicken or the egg. I mean we should part ways but don't leave just yet, I need your help, you can stay until you find something else (yeah likely). So I guess technically I am still employed by Mr. Passive Agressive. Whatever.

Getting ready to post about new doors and all that other shit you think and say to people who get fired, I mean quit. There is really no comfort mind you, but I am preparing to take the turn off of the easy ramp and onto the highway of the unknown, with all the crazy's just like me. Scary.

I am getting over the anger of how it "went down" but my husband is right it is for the best.

So I guess...uhhh...hello world, it's me Shannon I'm available...who wants to hire me.

~S

Change

I have changed my blog... I wanted the address to be my title and so on.

My title? My "mimi" (my maternal grandmother) was a a fireball. She was the glue that held our family together. She had a superior memory, a love for life and her family. When I was young, in all of my graceful tomboy glory, whenever I would trip over a crack in the pavement , crash on bike or skates or fall while running, she would greet me with my new band aid, ace bandage or cast with a simple "speaking of grace". She would then hug me and make the hurt from the wound go away.

Now that I am older I find that I am saying it to myself, when I drop a full can of diet coke, trip over a crack in the pavement or over my words as I try to make right a wrong for a poor choice in the daily grind of life. Everytime words echo in my mind I think of my Mimi, I wish she were here, for if nothing but a hug to make the pain from the "trip" go away, and to offer a word of wisdom to get back on course.

Speaking of Grace...I don't want to get caught up in the "trips" of my life, but I am not perfect, hell no one is. I just want to remember the giggle I would get out of the comment, remembering that all wounds heal, band aids do cover scars and that life does offer graceful moments if you take the time to notice.

~S

Starting...

Sometimes cycles long to be broken, each month I pray mine will be. Here's to a new month!
~S

Remember...

Back from a short trip to Las Vegas. Not that one needs any more than 3 days enjoying the spoils of a city so appropriately nicknamed. The trip itself was to meet with my mom and aunt to send them to the David Foster tribute concert. The joy they had at the concert was enough to make the trip a true success. I miss my family terribly and short visits always pull at my heart when saying goodbye. Every memory, those good and those bad flood my overly nostalgic mind as if my heart is pleading with my head to remember, to grab those memories, to remember the smell of my mom, as awkward as that may be, because it is truly the scent of home. When we part my mind then races for hours on all the memories stored. I think of the house I grew up in, the arguments between my parents and how they always made up, of my grandparents and sisters and friends. I think of home. I have lived away from home for over 10 years now. There have been the occasional extended trips back when my life has dealt me a hand of confusion, but for the most part I have not lived under the same roof or in the same city as my family for over a decade. I miss it. I miss Sunday dinners, laughing at movies, making fun of my little sister until she totally loses it (I know I am mean, but if you saw her all worked up over the fact that I can sit really close to her without touching her and watching her fight laughter while trying to act pissed off, well it is just down right funny), my sister tattling on me to my mother even at the age of 28, my older sister and her beautifully perfect family, my Dad and all the love he shows even with the shortest temper on the planet, my lovely 92 year old Memaw who still must color her hair and put on lipstick, and my beautiful niece and nephews and everything that makes them smile. I love my husband, I love my home and I love the city in which I live. But I will always miss my family, my first home and I thank God for the large novel my mind has written and that piece of my heart that always begs me to remember. ~S

Some Say I'm a Dreamer...

It is amazing how reading one entry on another blog can get my mind running and set my fingers to typing. I was visiting Petunia Face and low and behold, I see a quote she has posted months back that jacks me all up and makes me realize why I started thinking about a blog in the first place. Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it. ~Ellen Goodman, American Journalist, 1941 I cried last night for a good hour while I drove to Home Goods to look for decor for my home that I have no idea how to decorate (not that I do not know how to decorate, that I don't know HOW to decorate) anyway crying because I am creatively in a rut, WAY TO NORMAL as the quote describes. I am buried by the mundane cycle that has become my life. My time feels ill spent, my nights in a nutshell: drive home, make dinner, eat ...which is always too late and then bitch about the growth of my ass and the rapid decline of my waist, by decline I mean fat, goodbye waist hello one size fits all. But the majority of the tears were being wasted over my job. I am a 9-5 hater. I do not enjoy what I do and that is the down right shame of it all. I have a degree in dreaming. Want to own my own business, check, I've dreamt it. Want to become an actress, CHECK, that is a dream us with said degree can spend days on! Want to be a writer, of books, of blab, of anything, check, check, check. The issue that dreaming creates is that when you dream you get so caught up in what if's and how to's that the actual do's tend to die with the dream, not die, too harsh, they fade. They fade into the corner of your mind and heart so that they become a memory to smile upon when triggered by life. I have vowed to make a change, vowed to my husband (who is ever so kind to listen to my dreams and actually believe in me to push me to make them happen) that I will DO something, anything. Problem…I am comfortable in my hating of my 9-5ness and probably more scared than I care to admit and throw in a little lazy and tell her what she has won…that’s right crying for an hour and bitching on a blog. So where am I and what am I gonna do about? This won’t be my last bitch post. This post however puts me one step closer to using the degree I have been working feverishly towards for 32 years. ~S

Deep Breath and...

here I go. I don't know how long this "journal" will last, or who cares to read, but I am leaping. I have been waiting for the right time to begin the blogging life and today unlike yesterday or the days before seemed fitting. It could have been the inability to sleep and my mind spinning over the eternal "what am I going to do...with my career...with my house...with my weekend (and it is only Tuesday morning)" Things that I feel should be in place have seemed to found there way out and the pest known only as doubt has crept in. So why not throw some more in the mix and start this journey today? A question that I answered after 3 hours of sleep. So now that I am here what am I going to say? That I can hopefully answer tomorrow. ~S