Real Life Coming in Hot.

shirt here // bralette here 

I posted a little about this earlier, and while I love me some instagram, my heart lies in this little space of the internet where I can write and write and write and no character limit can stop me! 
Some real life for you: I had an allergic reaction to something last week (I'm allergic to some random things and try to be so careful, but sometimes I get too comfortable and forget to check). My skin is peeling like a freaking reptile and my face is on FIRE. 
Jack was up sick all Sunday night and had to stay home from school. He's smart, so today he's putting together that he hasn't been to school in more days than normal, so he's demanding to get in the car and go to school right this minute. Spoiler alert: There's no school on Tuesdays. 
I forgot what day it was, so I missed paying a tiny little bill, and in return got charged a late fee that was more expensive than the actual bill. COOL. 
So like, a little bit crappy, you know? 
But also: 
I got to hang out and eat pizza and drink coffee with my family this weekend and it was so much fun. I have discovered a new favorite queso and enjoyed way too much of it while eating some delicious tacos last night. I have SUCH a fun weekend planned that kicks off in just a few days. 
So like, a little bit good, you know? 
It's not all good, but it's not all bad, either. 
One of my favorite quotes is: "It's not always rainbows and butterflies, but a lot of it actually is."
I'm actually a fan of talking a little bit about the non-great days, because honestly, isn't it a little refreshing to be reminded that you're not the only one on the internet who has bad days and who doesn't have their life together? 
But I'm a huge fan of talking a lot about the good stuff, because happiness breeds more happiness. 
And really - when you discover a new queso, you just gotta shout it from the rooftops, ya feel? 

Don't Look Away When Your Friends Are Drowning.

I've been a terrible friend for the last six months. 
Truly. In the general sense of the meaning of a friend, I've sucked. I've missed out on plans. I've put off responding to texts. I've avoided phone calls. I've canceled things last minute. 
Not because I don't love my friends. No, nothing like that. 
Because I've been drowning. 
Let me tell you something about drowning: When it happens, you notice real fast who you've surrounded yourself with. Because there are only two, painfully obvious choices when your friends are drowning: You can look away uncomfortably, or you can fling yourself over the side of the boat and cling onto their hands for dear life. 
There was a horrible, horrible day in November. 24 hours later, there were flowers on my doorstep with a note from my best friend. "Just a little reminder I'm in your corner!" The days that followed were awful. And those days were full of phone calls and texts from my people. Full of babysitting Jack for free, sending prayers and checking in hourly, even though they were on vacation. Day after day of them saying, in words and action, that they were there and weren't going anywhere.
They didn't avoid the hard subjects. They didn't take it personally when it took five or six days of texting to get a response out of me. They didn't get mad when I forgot to mention that giant thing going on in their life. They didn't stop texting back when I was constantly bringing a gloomy vibe to the group chat.
And most of all, they didn't look away when I was drowning. They sat next to me, as hard and exhausting and as difficult as it was for them, and they held their hands out, holding me up for as long as it took. 
On Mother's Day, my best friend lost her mother-in-law. Unexpectedly. Out of nowhere. She was young, she was vibrant, she was healthy, she was gone. My friend, who has spent the last six months sitting above choppy waters, clinging onto my arms to make sure my head didn't go under, went tumbling into the water herself. 
It's not fun when your best friend is drowning. It's not fun when daily memes get replaced with daily asking, "How's it going? What can I do?" Knowing good and well the answer will be "nothing" every time, because nothing can take pain like that away. But as heartbreaking as it was, with every facebook post and text I saw exchanged between us, it brought my heart joy, because I thought, "THIS. This is what friendship is. It's being there in the good times, but even more so, the bad. It's holding each other up. It's refusing to look away when the other person is drowning."
Seeing it firsthand lift her up so much, it painted a picture for me of what my friends did...my wonderful, selfless, relentless in loving me friends...they refused to look away while I was drowning. And I will never, ever be able to say thank you enough for that. 
Shortly after I drafted this blog post, my best friend in the entire world, the one who's been by my side for 23 years, faced the most heartbreaking tragedy that I cannot even wrap my mind around. And as I got in my car to go be with him the next day, over and over in my mind was: "He is drowning, but you won't let him. You can hold him up. You will hold him up until he can swim again. THAT'S what we do." 
Don't look away when your friends are drowning. Don't ignore the hard stuff. Don't suddenly become busy when their life gets tough. Don't avoid checking in because you don't know what to say. 
While a good portion the first half of this year was extremely painful to survive, I did survive it. I cried myself to sleep LOTS of nights honestly thinking life was never going to be okay again, but here we are, happy and okay. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt the the reason I got through those hard things was because my circle refused to look away when I was drowning. 
I know it sucks. I know it's no fun. I know your arms get exhausted. I know the waves beating you up suck. I know you just want to take a break and go work on your tan instead. But hold on. It's worth it. I think it's the closest you can be to being Jesus in the flesh for your people.
Don't look away. Hold them up.  xo

Yesterday Sucked & That's Okay.

I've talked a lot about inspiration lately and how motivated I am to make my dreams happen. Yesterday I was pumped to start the week. Mondays are a fresh start and I was excited. I was ready to plan and dream and succeed and get all the things done. 
And then...I just had a crappy day. Nothing huge happened, just a bunch of little irritating things. My motivation to get alllll of the things done quickly faded and it felt like I was trying to swim through peanut butter to get anything done (You know what I mean? Like you're moving so slow and everything is so hard and there's no reason for it?). 
I guess what I'm saying is Mondays are great to start fresh and plan out your week and make a plan to totally kill it in every area...but hey, Tuesdays are pretty good for that, too. Wednesdays also work. It's not a day of the week, or a date on the calendar, it's you
I guess what I'm also saying is as much as I want this to be a little hub of inspiration, I also want it to be a place of honesty and authenticness. So for every ten posts I write about how you can do it (which you CAN) and how I believe in you (which I DO) and how I'm feeling so inspired to take on my dreams (which I AM), it's only fair to include the ones saying, "hey, I tried, I had a weird day, I'm not feeling motivated, ugh." Because that's life. And because I know you have those days too. So why not talk about them? 
Why not talk about them and say, "My plan to kill it on Monday didn't work, so Tuesday will have to do." Why not be honest and admit, "My to-do list about murdered me yesterday, but I'm up and ready for round two." 
Yesterday sucked for me. It just did. No long story, no big point, it just sucked. And you know what? That's okay. Because I woke up again today, thank goodness, so I get a re-do. I'm chugging coffee (BLACK COFFEE (with cinnamon, I'm not a monster) for the fourth week in a row...so I KNOW I can do anything) and I've got my to-do list and I am ready to make this re-do count for me. 
You woke up today too, so you also get a re-do. Let's make it count, okay? 

Finding Childcare: A Step-by-Step Horror Story.

Step 1: Wait entirely too long to admit that yes, you probably do need some childcare help. It's probably not the best thing for your mental health to never not be taking care of a toddler, and your job is probably going to fire you if your kid doesn't stop banging on the office door during staff meetings. Start looking for part-time daycares.
Step 2: Realize that no one gives any info out over the phone. If you want to know the secrets (like, how much does this cost?) you're gonna have to tour these places. Set up some tours. 
Step 3: Dress in your most "Professional mom with v cool toddler you'd be lucky to have" outfit. Text picture to no less than three people to get approval. 
Step 4: Show up for daycare tour. Realize very quickly that this is maybe not the best place when you see there are garbage bags lining the hall, leaking onto the floor. When the director turns and screams down the hall for an employee to clean it up, and the employee screams back that she will not be touching that sh*t, you know this is not the place for you. 
Step 5: Since you are polite, decide to finish the tour. This is a mistake. When you open the classroom door, a cockroach falls off of the door and onto your face. You scream, brush it onto the floor, and look to the daycare director for some sort of reassurance. Instead, she watches as it crawls over to a sleeping toddler, right onto his blanket, and says, "Oh. That's gross." When she asks if you're interested in full time or part time, you pause, trying to think of a nice way to say, "I just watched you let a roach crawl onto a toddler, so no thank you." But you take too long, and she snaps her fingers in your face and says, "I'm not a f*cking mind reader. Speak up." So you feel like the polite explanation is no longer needed. BYE. 
Step 6: Make more tour appointments. Find the perfect daycare. Cry in your car when you find out they don't offer part-time. 
Step 7: Decide to try for a nanny. You join care.com and are pleased by how many applications immediately come in. 
Step 8: Skip from pleased to overwhelmed. 
Step 9: Your first interview! Oh, it's bad. So bad. 
You: I see you're CPR certified! That's great! 
Her: Oh, I'm actually not. I just say that to get interviews. 
Step 10: Repeat a few times. A few notables: The girl who "really can't tell you" what hours she would be able to work, the girl who would definitely not be okay watching your kid if you were in the house, and the girl who just refuses to leave after the interview is over. 
Step 11: Fall in LOVE with a nanny. Who, of course, charges almost double what you want to pay. Try to negotiate. Fail. Tell yourself it's worth it and you're going to hire her. Decide to look her up on social media on a whim. 
Step 12: Panic.   Step 13: Remind yourself not to judge. 
Step 14: OKAY BUT THAT'S COCAINE IN THE BACKGROUND SO
Step 15: The morning after a horrible natural disaster, when the entire city is without power, receive text from said-nanny. Hope you survived the hurricane! Still wanna hire me or nah? 
OR, you could skip steps 1-15 and go straight for Step 16: Pour yourself a glass of wine and cry about it. 
PS: Since writing this, I have found the BEST nanny. She is wonderful and Jack loves her. So don't stay stuck on step 16 for toooooo long. 

Middle Finger Emoji You, Irma.

What. A. Week. 

One that I am not sad to say goodbye to. 

It feels weird to just be going back to normal life today after all this that craziness, but I'm so glad to be able to do so. I don't have to tell you about the level of destruction this storm caused in some areas, so I know I'm incredibly lucky that being without power for a few days was all that happened to my house. 

I do want to say this: The number of friends who checked on me-before, during, and after the storm-seriously blew me away. One reason being that a lot of them were blog friends, people I haven't had the chance to meet face to face, but who checked in and offered their prayers just the same. It warmed my heart and honestly made me a little emotional. How easy it is to be there for each other in this age of technology, but how very much it means. It was a serious bright spot. 

And now, back to it. Back to work and the probably eight-thousand things I'm sure I fell behind on, but doing so with a really thankful heart. Thankful that my people are safe, thankful my house is standing, and thankful for the AC and hot water I finally got back. 

Life is good. 

Still pissed at you though, Irma. 

Florida friends: You doing okay?! 

I Forgot Who I Was: How Pregnancy Changed Me.

I'm sure you read that and think, Ah, yes. She got pregnant and lost her identity. She became a mom and motherhood swallowed her. She forgot who she was because she was just a mom. Because we've all heard one version or another of that story before.
But that's not true for me. See, I forgot who I was before I got pregnant.
Not in a huge way. Not in a life-crisis kind of way. I didn't go flying off the deep end, I didn't have an affair, I didn't hate my life. In fact, I was actually pretty happy. We were getting closer and closer to the end of med-school. I had a good job. My weekends were filled with drinks and dancing with friends, rooftop pool days, and lazy brunches.
The forgetting who I was wasn't accompanied by a huge bout of depression or a drastic circumstance. It happened little by little, so far under the surface of everyday life that I really didn't even notice it.
I stopped writing as much, (outside of blogging) because it wasn't turning out to be hugely successful for me. I stopped doing things I liked, like browsing thrift stores for fun, because I didn't have anyone to go with, and it felt lame to go by myself. I'm a huge dreamer and planner, but our future was so up in the air with Match Day coming up, that I kind of just stopped planning and even dreaming about the future.
And then. Jack. 
Getting pregnant reminded me of who I was. 
I've said before that baby Jack was a surprise, but once the shock wore off (so..like six months later? haha), I started thinking about the kind of life I wanted him to have and the kind of person I wanted to teach him to be. Kind, thankful, adventurous, unique, passionate. I wanted him to follow his dreams, no matter what they were. I wanted him to find something he loved and set the world on fire.
And then I thought...remember when I wanted those things for me, too? What happened?
I wasn't a bad person. I wasn't wasting my life. I wasn't even really unhappy. I just wasn't me. 

I didn't have to reinvent who I was, I just had to remember who I was. And being handed a brand new, fussy, tiny little baby did just that. From the moment I saw him, everything just felt so clear. It was like the proverbial fog cleared and I could instantly see what I wanted my life to be, who I wanted to be, and what was the most important.
I've read a lot of stories about how having a baby made moms lose their identity. That it made them forget who they were. I just wanted to offer another perspective.
Having a baby reminded me of who I was. Becoming a mom helped me find my way back to the version of myself that I loved the most. And I will always, always be so thankful for that.

Half Asleep & Wide Awake.

If there were ever a tee-shirt (and a half) that described life, it's this one. I. Am. So. Sleepy. 

I didn't realize how much I loved sleep until recently. We're talking full-blown, passionate love affair over here. Sadly, much to the detriment of this love story, this realization happened around the same time that Jack realized he didn't really love sleep all that much. I mean, he thinks it's okay. He likes a nap every now and then. But sleeping at night? Eh, he could take it or leave it. 

This leaves me half asleep at all times. If you've seen me lately, I apologize. Both for my appearance and for whatever I may have said. I cannot be held responsible, I was half asleep. If you've texted me, sorry, I can't text you back. I'm too busy being half asleep. Emails? HA. If I get caught up on emails at any point over the next five years of my life, I will truly be shocked. 

But you know what has come along with being so freaking tired? 

My life being so. freaking. full. 

I laughed so hard taking these blurry pictures that I actually cried. Who knew a 7-month-old could have so much personality already?

 he literally looks just like that bear with his arms. I'm telling you, wide awake bear over here.

I'm exhausted and in love and overwhelmed and fulfilled and happy and frustrated and surprised on the daily. I still find it weird when someone reminds me that I'm a mom and I still feel out of place grabbing the diaper bag out of my car when going places. Because surely I'm not really a mom, right? Those are people who have their lives together and know how to do laundry without shrinking clothes and never burn dinner. 

But here we are...me and my little love seven months in. Not a lot of sleep but a whole lot of love.

I've never been so tired, but my heart has never been so full. I wouldn't change it for the world. 

Ps: These shirts are from Target. 

It's Okay to be Scared. It's Not Okay to Stay Scared.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was absolutely terrified. Looking back now, I was of course terrified for the obvious reasons-I was going to have a baby, I was going to have to learn how to be a mom, I was going to be responsible for keeping a tiny human alive-but a big part of my fear was that it was a completely unexpected life change. And those are freaking scary. 
And then, my tiny little love was born, and I was no longer scared of the life changes, because he just fit right in so perfectly. Instead, I was scared of messing up. Of feeding him wrong or of him getting hurt because I didn't do something right. 

And now, I've kept this mini-me alive and happy for seven months. And sure, there are four-thousand and seven things to be afraid of on a daily basis when raising a baby, but all of my first fears? Not true. The way he's changed my life has not only been just fine, it's been amazing (challenging, of course, but amazing). And my worries of doing something wrong and him being hurt because of it haven't come true. Instead, I have the happiest baby on the planet and we're learning about this whole mom thing together. 
* * *
When Chris explained to me how the match process worked, and we spent weeks and weeks and weeks trying to balance good programs and good locations with what we wanted and also with the fact that we really didn't have much control at all over the situation, I was so scared. Walking down a path completely blind as to what's going to happen is incredibly unnerving. 
And then, things fell into place more beautifully than I could have imagined. The city and the neighborhood and the house, all something straight out of my dreams.

And now, I am constantly overwhelmed with just how good my life is. I have the perfect house. I got to stay in the sunshine state. It's the perfect city for my little family. And all those fears I had about what the outcome of match may be, they're just gone. 
* * *
It would be easy to look back and say, there was no reason to be scared! That was stupid! But I don't think that's true. My fears were legitimate to me, and it was okay that I felt them. 
Becoming a mom is downright terrifying at times. Taking chances is scary. Unexpected life changes can make you shake in your boots. Choosing to walk down a path without answers can be unnerving. And it's okay to let yourself feel all of that. It's okay to be scared. 
It's okay to be utterly terrified at times. 
Just as long as you don't stay there. 
Things always seem to have a way of working themselves out exactly as they're supposed to. Sometimes better than we expected, sometimes not so much. But if our arms are too busy trembling from fear, they won't be steady enough to catch the good things life is sending our way. And trust me, there's a whole lot of good.

Let Me Tell You a Story: What July Taught Me.

Let me tell you a little story that pretty much sums up July for me.
Earlier this month, I decided to try out a weekly small group for medical wives. This is so out of my comfort zone, but I knew it might lead to new friends and, at the very least, people who are in the same position I'm in. I'm always anxious about getting lost on the way to somewhere new where I might have to parallel park (STRUGGLE), so I leave insanely early and end up sitting in the car with Jack for a solid thirty minutes. Off to a great start already, I know. 
I finally go inside only to find I'm in the wrong place and have walked in on an extremely uncomfortable situation. I felt so embarrassed and as I waited for anyone else to get there, all I could think about was getting in my car and driving home and watching Netflix. But instead, I made myself stay. 
It was great! It was awkward, as any new thing is, but it was great. I left feeling really good. So good, in fact, that I decide to tackle my first time solo grocery shopping. Since I can't push both a cart and a stroller, I put Jack in his happy baby wrap and confidently head into Target. 

About ten minutes in, Jack starts screaming. S c r e a m i n g. I realize he's starving, so I pull my cart off to the side to feed him. But it seemed like wherever I went, I was in someone's way. I'm thinking of all of those blog posts I see floating around facebook that start with "Dear new mom at Target with the crying baby" and almost cry as I realize, oh my gosh, that is me. I am her. 
I feed Jack, he stops screaming, and I carry on, warrior that I am. I've almost loaded everything into my basket when he starts wiggling a little bit. And then moving some more. And then jerking all around, laughing and laughing as he is slowly loosening the baby wrap and making it nearly impossible to keep him inside of it. At this point I say screw my list and just wobble to the checkout, pushing my cart with one hand and trying to keep Jack up with the other. 
I (of course) get an employee who tells me she's having a bad day and blames it on the assortment of things I have bought. How is she even supposed to bag these things, she asks me. Why did I get all of this stuff? Why did I buy such a variety? I just silently shake my head and focus on trying to retie the baby wrap while standing with Jack (impossible) and a sweet lady comes and puts her hand on my shoulder. "They sell the ergo baby carrier here" she whispers to me. "It's very helpful once they get big and start moving around more." I hope I said thank you, but at that moment the employee was waving a mini watermelon at me telling me that she couldn't scan it, so did I really want it? So who knows. 
I tearfully loaded the groceries in the car and got in the drivers seat, turning the car on and deciding to skip Trader Joe's. And then, I turned the car off, went back inside Target, and bought the baby carrier the lady suggested. I went to Trader Joe's, carried Jack around in the new carrier, and it was a much more peaceful experience. 
If I would have gone home before the small group meeting, I would have missed out on meeting some pretty cool people. If I would have gone home when I was having a bad day at Target, I would probably have never gone grocery shopping again and just lived off of takeout until intern year was over. 
But I pushed myself through the awkwardness and the uncomfortable, and something as small as being able to get groceries or try out a meeting turned into something huge for me. 
So that's what July taught me. It taught me that I can do hard things. 
Here's the thing about doing hard things: Once you're on the other side and they're actually done and you see the good that came from them, they don't seem so hard. They seem worth it.
What have you learned this month?

Something Special.

You guys.

It's been quite the week.

I have a lot of adjectives (and honestly, some expletives) that I'd like to put in front of that word, but we'll just keep it simple and say it's been a week. And I was really looking forward to a fresh start today.

So, I wake up early enough to write out my to-do list for the day, because being able to do that before work just makes all the difference. I have an extra cup of coffee. I start the new She Reads Truth plan. I am on it. 

And then I go to leave for work.

Annnndddd my car won't start.

So I ask a two or three people passing me if they can jump my car, and they say no. Which is totally fine--it's a Monday, we're all busy and trying to get to work. But then I wait by my car for thirty minutes and ask people to help me. And it wasn't just that they said no, because I totally get it. I probably wouldn't help a stranger if it was going to make me late either. So that wasn't what upset me, it was the way everyone said no.

"Do I look like I have time to help you?" 

"Nope--gotta go."

"Sorry, I don't have jumper cables." "Oh, I have jumper cables." "Sorry, I don't have a car." Proceeds to walk to his car.

"I seriously don't have time for this today." 

Okay, I get it. Everyone is busy. No one is obligated to help me. But seriously...a simple "I'm sorry, I don't have enough time. But good luck!" Or anything like that would have just made my morning a lot better.

So I do what anyone would do in this situation and cry and call my mom and decide that people are the worst.

Then I go back inside, in a much worse mood than I came out with. I'm waiting on the elevator and thinking about how people are the worst ever, and how everyone who just refused to help me has a black heart and I wonder how they would like it if their car wouldn't start when they were on their way to work and blah blah blah. 

This older man walks up just as the elevator dings, and he motions for me to go in front of him.

"It's elevator etiquette, you were here first." 

I made a joke about how elevator etiquette is so awkward and I never know what to do and he said, "You're a lady, you should always go first. 

Then we rode up in awkward elevator silence. When we got to his floor, he turned and waved to me and said, "It's a Monday. Make it something special." 

And just like that, my day got a lot better. Just because a little old man took the time to remind me that Mondays should be special.

We should all remember that our words and actions--no matter how small--can totally change someone's day. So be a little kinder than you feel like being. Choose to say something nice instead of something snarky. Just be nice, you know? It makes a difference.

It's a Monday. Make it something special. 

and that's okay.

Sunday started with my computer crashing and ended with me at the emergency vet with my sweet pup.

And things pretty much went downhill from there.  The past few days have been a struggle. 

So this isn't a happy blog post about how you should stay positive when things go wrong.  This is a real life blog post about how sometimes life is just hard.  Sometimes so many things will go wrong that it will take everything in you to just wake up and get work done. 

And that's okay. 

Because that's real life, and real life isn't always rainbows and butterflies.  Sometimes it's two hours of sleep and six cups of coffee and sweatpants and dry shampoo. 

And that's okay. 

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