Roller Coasters Make Me Sick

No really, they do. They kinda always have. I can handle a little bit at first... sometimes even 1/2 a day of it... but then something inside my head or whatever just clicks, and I can't take anymore. I love them though. I love the speed, my stomach flip flopping, the terror. Yes I'm afraid of heights, but that's not what stops me from riding. It the motion sickness. I can handle up and down okay. It's the round and round that gets me.

I've been on a different kind of coaster here lately. It's the round and round of depression that's making me sick... not just mentally, but physically as well.

Yesterday was amazing. I planned out the day and did most everything on my list. I had the strength to do it all and I kicked Monday's butt. Today on the other hand, I've been in my head. Remembering things I'd much rather forget. Thinking about people and places I wish didn't exist. Trying to tackle my to do list head on, only to have it knock me back on  my backside.

Depression is a lying bastard. Sorry for the harsh word. But it is. Anyone who has been there can attest to that truth. It tells you that you're nothing, you're worthless, you shouldn't try because you won't succeed. It makes you look at your blessings differently. You either don't feel worthy or you stop appreciating them. It makes you remember ever mistake you've ever made, things long since forgiven, things that no else remembers. But you do. Because depression makes you remember.

Over the past 4 months, I've been doing much better. I can handle most days. I might not be quite up to par with where I'd like to be, but I do pretty well. Those are the times I can handle, I can suck it up, I can stay on the coasters. After a while of riding, I get sick. I can't take it anymore. I want the ride to end. But it doesn't.

I can always think of things to do to help me feel better when I'm feeling okay. It's weird cause that's when I don't really need all the pick me ups. It's times like this, when I can't seem to even see straight that I need the help, but can't seem to find it ANYWHERE.

So today I feel awful. I can't even hardly think well enough right now to type. Every tiny thing is a distraction. Every tiny thing is a reason to give up. To not try and fight through it.

I know it won't last. For every low, there's a high just up ahead. For me, this is what enduring to the end really means. Though the depression is telling me to give up and give in, I'm not going to do it. I've got too much in life that makes me happy to let the Depression win.

So maybe I won't be able to completely enjoy doing the things I want to this evening, I'm going to do them anyways. Fake it til you make it... right? And maybe tomorrow won't be so hard.

Some Videos and a Link

I apologize that I haven't posted since Sunday. I'm still trying to get used to the girls being in school, writing my articles on www.dailybubble.com and just life in general.

Today, I'm a bit emotional... thank you hormones. Just what I needed. Any thing I would write today would probably only end up with me "going off" or me going into stuff y'all don't want to know anything about... Anyways... I'm not going to write too much today. Just share some stuffs.

My baby brother got engaged a little while ago. He re-wrote a popular song and sang it to his lady ;) Kinda cute.

 

He also sang "I'm Your's" before he sang the proposal song... 

(This song has a special place in my heart. My brother sang it to me at my baby shower when I was pregnant with my first little girl!  Also, both of those boys are my baby brothers ;) They're not too shabby huh?)

I found this hilarious video today about the town I grew up in... I'm not sure if it'd be funny to anyone except people who know the area, but I'm sharing it anyways... I'm proud of my hometown!

If you notice in the previous videos of my brothers, they're singing at "The Streets of Indian Lake" in front of that restaurant that's been closed for over a year! lol. I love H'ville!

And lastly, I'm hosting a 31 party for a friend of mine. This friend is awesome and has a crazy month ahead of her. My party is closing on Monday, but if you all are interested in a bag or something, please check out this site and help us out ;) I'll owe you big time!

Click here for my 31 party!

Thanks y'all! Have a great weekend!

My Hope

And here’s the thing that I keep thinking about: so I do something really sucky and stupid and everyone looks at me like I’m a Klingon for a second; then what? Who cares? Is anyone going to stab me in the gut with a javelin? Is the government going to repossess all of my belongings for writing a bad blog post, or getting a script rejected a thousand times, or forgetting important birthdays? No. And I think the simple reason behind it is that no one cares as much about what I’m doing as I do. In my mind, the process of me failing starts with people saying, “She’s terrible,” and ends with them saying, “let’s murder her in the alley.” When in reality, it’s more like, “She’s terrible. Ooohh…nachos!”

I read the previous quote in a blog by Melanie Crutchfield. I had my idea for this post before reading hers because of another friend who had blogged about the Hope 2012: A Blog Relay. What she says here has alot to do with my post though, so I figured I'd include it... Now onto my post. 

I have always been the kind of person who was too worried about what others thought.  It has caused issues my entire life, and I wish it was just something that I could just STOP doing… but alas, I've done it for as long as I can remember.

In fact, one of my very first memories is about getting my feelings hurt when I heard my parents laughing about me singing along to a Whitney Houston tape. I think I was like 3 or 4. As a parent, I realize that what I was doing much have been crazy cute to them and that they were probably laughing because of how adorable I was (and still am!) At least, that's what I do, as a parent. But even then, I took what THEY were doing and let it affect how I viewed myself. I still feel uncomfortable singing in front of people.

This type of behavior has affected my WHOLE life. I remember feeling "uncool" as young as first/second grade. I remember feel laughed at or made fun of, when I'm sure others had much better things to do than worry about me. The worry and concern over what everyone else is thinking has followed me into adulthood. And it has been a thorn in my side the entire time.  

I recently had some enlightenment regarding my worry. I was actually trying to defend some previous actions, and it hit me… "WHY!" I realized a lot of things at that moment.

People are going to think whatever they want about you and generally it has nothing to do with who you actually are, and more to do with who THEY are - their own personal perceptions, struggles, worries, issues, experiences, beliefs, etc. You can try to explain what you believe is true until you're blue in the face. It does no good. People form their opinions around experiences and perceptions, most of which are skewed to fit what they NEED to believe at that time.

I have been terrified my whole life of not being liked. I have no idea why… I'm a nice person and I try to be kind… what's not to like ;) But still… It's a HUGE fear. So when I perceive things, that fears skews it. For example, if I walk into a room and I'm not part of a conversation, I worry that it's about me and the people talking are bashing me or whatever. In a way, this is really kind of conceited. Nobody is really talking about me… and if they are… so what. How does that change who I am? How does that make me feel bad? More than likely, most conversations that I worry about have absolutely NOTHING to do with me. And even if they do, I am the one who gives it the power to affect me. My whole view of others is skewed by my own personal fears.

But with this realization that people are going to think whatever they want about me (and that's their right) I have robbed this fear of its power. LET THEM TALK… they're probably not talking about me, and if they are, who cares! I can be myself and not worry about what anyone else thinks… Liking me and being okay with me is all that matters. I have my own personal standards that I try to align with my understanding of the Gospel of Christ. No one except for my Father in Heaven is my judge.

“Everybody in this life has their challenges and difficulties. That is part of our mortal test. The reason for some of these trials cannot be readily understood except on the basis of faith and hope because there is often a larger purpose which we do not always understand. Peace comes through hope.”

James E. Faust

Letting go of this fear has also helped me to be more genuine. When I'm not trying to fit what anyone else wants or expects of me, I can be more of myself. And I am so much happier for it. It's exhausting trying to be what everyone else wants you to be or expects you to be (or what you THINK they want and expect you to be.) And you don't have to do it. I can figure out what I want for myself, what standards I want for myself, what my personal beliefs are, where my faith lies.

I have realized that my Heavenly Father does not want me to fit some cookie cutter mold. That was Satan's plan… for us not to have choice or be different or unique. My Father in Heaven created me different from everyone else… just like everyone else. No one else has my soul, my experiences, my thoughts, my strengths, my weakness, or my perceptions. He doesn't expect me to try to be like anyone else… only to be the best that I can.

I have also learned to be more understanding of others, more accepting. I do not know their thoughts, experiences, perceptions, etc… And because of that, I cannot judge their words or actions. That's not my place or my job. It's my job to be a listening ear and a sympathetic arm. It is my job to be encouraging and uplifting. That's it.

“Genuine hope is urgently needed in order to be more loving even as the love of many waxes cold; more merciful, even when misunderstood or misrepresented; more holy, even as the world ripens in iniquity; more courteous and patient in a coarsening and curt world; and more full of heartfelt hope, even when other men’s hearts fail them. Whatever our particular furrow, we are to ‘plow in hope,’ without looking back or letting yesterday hold tomorrow hostage (1 Cor. 9:10).”

Neal A. Maxwell

This enlightenment has given me one of the greatest gifts in this whole world. HOPE. I have hope for the future that I will be able to learn more about whom I am and what I am here to do and accomplish.  I have hope that I will overcome my ridiculous fears and my awful thoughts that come with depression. I have hope that I will be able to teach this same understanding to my daughters, and that they will then be able to grow into good, strong, confident women who are examples to those around them. Maybe I can also help others to realize this about themselves too. That you don't have to be afraid of what anyone thinks. You only need to worry about what YOU think. If YOU are okay with YOU, the no one else can break you down. I have hope for the future. And that helps me to be happy with today. 

Now it's time to pass the torch on. Keep it going... What gives you Hope? Hope in anything, the future, humanity, the weather... any of it. Just blog about Hope ;) 

My brain may just pack up and leave me. It's already distancing itself...

I'm a bit on overload at the moment. I realized today that I am keeping so busy, I'm becoming a bit numb. Too much to do, hence too little time to sit and really think about things and work on stuff that needs dealing with. School started today for the girls. I got a job writing for DailyBubble.com. I'm crocheting and sewing and drawing and cleaning and helping a friend plan her wedding. And I'm trying to work on me. Okay... so I've been avoiding that last one. After a couple very intensely emotional weeks, I needed a break. But I kinda went extreme with it and won't allow myself to really get emotional over anything. It's not smart, and this whole busy bee thing will only lead to a crash and a funk if I don't watch it and ensure that I'm taking care of myself during it all. (UGH, I'm trying to remember all the things I talked about with the therapist today, and I can't remember it all... I wonder if he'd mind if I started taking notes.)

So, my brain is getting aggravated with me, I'm sure. I'm kinda tuning it out and shutting it off and just going through motions without feeling or thinking. Some of that is good. The bad thoughts need to go. But, that doesn't mean the good have to go with them. And in all honesty, some of those bad thoughts are necessary and can lead to good enlightened thoughts when dealt with the correct way... by figuring out why they're there and how to refashion them or praying for inspiration on how to fix them. That may be very vague... did anyone get that?

SO, I've been writing alot. Over 2500 words a day actually. But it's all celebrity news for the DailyBubble.com (Go check them out and tell your friends... Please? Thanks!) That's a bunch of words though. And that does not include facebook and twitter... this blog... or my narrative. The last two I need to work on much more... and probably will focus more on them next week while the girls are gone to school. This whole writing all the time thing is never something I really thought I'd do, but it kinda fits in some ways.

A decade ago it seems like all I did was write. I wrote notes constantly in High School, plus, you know, school work. I also constantly wrote poetry and stories (most were very dark and kinda disturbing now that I look back on them.) And when I wasn't writing that kind of stuff, I kept journals. I was actually VERY thorough with them, right up until I met my husband and we got married and all that jazz. I even have a list in one of them of every boy I've ever kissed. I started it when I was 14 and had my first kiss. Not sure it's the hubs favorite, but all that matter is his name is last on it, right?

Okay... So, I used to write ALOT. I have actually kept alot of it too. I have all my poetry and stories, I've kept all my journals, and I've even kept some letters and notes from high school. A part of me feels like there's a reason to keep them. I feel a need to share my story, if for nothing else than to put it in writing so that I personally can learn from it. Once I can put words to emotions and events, I can take them and figure them out, pick them apart, try and learn whatever it is I'm supposed to learn from them.

Okay... so... the point of this post... I've been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off because I'm trying to avoid feeling... that directly affects the blog and my narrative because they're usually all about feeling and issues and such. So, I'm going to remember to BREATHE. To take care of myself. To take advantage of those moments when I get lost in housework and such, but also allow for moments of feeling, whether it's good or bad or ugly. I'm going to work more on the 'for me' writing. And hopefully my brain won't hate me and punish me with a funk. Hopefully.

My Invisible Friends

Okay... so I personally don't have invisible friends.  But my daughter does. I did not know this until last night on the way home from a baseball game and she started talking about her invisible friend... Tangled.

After she finished telling us about Tangled, I mentioned I'd never heard her talk about her Invisible Friends (imaginary friends... same thing. She calls them invisible because they're real to her, not imaginary... she just can't see them.) My husband said she's been talking about them for a little while now.

He actually said he freaked out a bit when she first started talking about them. He said he was worried she was "mentally broken."(I think he was joking... kinda) I CRACKED up laughing at this ... as someone who has felt mentally broken at times, this was just hilarious to me. Also at the fact that something that I thought was so NORMAL for a kid to do was something that troubled him.

Anyways, he said he actually googled about imaginary friends to see if our daughter was going to be weird or not (I'm actually all for having weird kids. Wouldn't bother me one bit.) Turns out, this whole imaginary friend thing is a big plus! Alot of kids with imaginary friends are very bright, creative, and can make excellent leaders later on in life (since they like being in control - hence making up friends where they dictate everything about that friend!)

I can totally see Moo being this type of kid. She's insanely creative, imaginative, and loves to be in charge. And I think this whole Invisible friend thing is actually kind of awesome. I want a few.

I want a gay invisible friend... a guy to tell me what to where, when to wear it, and compliment me endlessly on my looks. Though since he's made up in my mind, he'd really just be myself trying to talk myself into wearing the clothes I already own, and trying to make myself feel better when I feel I look frumpy.

I want an insanely confident invisible friend that does all those crazy things I want to do and don't have the courage (or balls) to do. This friend would rock. Her name would be Stevie and She'd dress just like Stevie Nicks... Total hippy. And she'd rock it too!

And I want an invisible encouragement fairy to follow me around constantly and take all the things I want to and tell me how I can do anything and can accomplish everything I want and just generally feed my brain full of awesome perky singsong pep talk. I'm picturing her a bit like the good witch from the wizard of oz, but rounder.

So, if you had an imaginary friend (or if you already do) what would he/she be like?

What would you do with your last day on earth?

(Sorry for not blogging... I told you school is starting... I'll be better about it all once that starts)

I was recently asked "What would you do with your very last day on earth, if you could go anywhere and do anything?"

Warning: My answer may bore the snot out of you... and you might not understand some of it if you're not LDS.

I have thought about this for the past 2-3 days... whenever the post was put up.  And I have come up with a few answers... Some make me pretty emotional. But as I've been thinking about it all, I tried to figure out what are my happiest memories. So here goes...

I would want to start my last day on a beach in the gulf coast. Something a little remote, cause I want this moment to be private. I want to sit and watch my hubby and our girls run and splash around and enjoy the sunrise and the rays on our skin and the dolphins off in the distance and the sounds of the water crashing onto the sand. I want to chase after them and have tickle wars and try and dunk Handsome and just enjoy my family in one of the most beautiful, relaxing places I've ever been.

Next comes food... at my mama's house. Everyone knows that nobody can cook like a southern mama. (Hence PAULA DEEN!) My mama is one of the best cooks EVER. Of course the menu would consist of Fried Okra, Fried Chicken (with her homemade honey mustard), Cucumber salad, Cornbread salad, maybe some of Big Mama's old recipes, and tons of other southern dishes. Oh, don't forget the sliced home grown tomatoes. (My mouth is watering just thinking about all of this food.) I would eat until I couldn't move.

I would go to the Nashville, TN LDS Temple where me and my Handsome were married and sealed for time and all eternity. I'd want to sit inside with him and talk about all our best memories... His crazy notes when we were dating, No lines at Disney World on our honey moon and then getting so sun burnt we couldn't move, our apartments, our home, Sady, our girls... How tiny they used to be, t-bone's "Ice", Moo's Buddha belly, how smart and beautiful they are... and forever - spending eternity with each other.

I would end my day on my mama's front porch... wrapped up in a blanket like she used to do with me when I was little and having troubles breathing. Me, Handsome, and our girls, would sit and watch the sun set and I would tell each of them how much I love them and why. And my day would end snuggled up with Handsome at home in bed.

Now that my eyes are all blurry and my throat is achy from trying not to cry... I want to ask you too, What would you do with your last day on Earth?  It can be anything... Handsome would go to Ireland to visit where his family came from. He'd want to experience as much of this world as he could in his last day of mortality. But what about you... Would you stay with what's comfortable? Spend time with family? Or do something you've always wanted, but never been able to? Like SkyDiving?

Also... I reserve the right to edit my answer at anytime ;)  There may be something awesome I'd want to do that I haven't thought about... Like maybe parasailing while we're there on the beach in the gulf... Yeah... I'd do that too.  Okay... Your turn!

Ode to my Hoodies

(I don't really have a ton on my mind right now, or not anything worth writing about. School is getting ready to start like next week and we're trying to get ready for that so if I'm MIA, don't freak. I'm around... just with other things on my mind.)

There are very few things I love in this world more than a HOODIE.

For me, it's like wearing a blanket. Only better... because it's not like a snuggie. And I wear them all year long. It could be 90 outside and you still might find me in a hoodie... sleeves shoved up to my elbows. Just ask my friends. They'll tell you. 

I own a few hoodies. 26 to be exact. I don't own 26 of anything else. I don't even have that many shoes (TOTAL... not pairs.)  But hoodies... I love em. Can't get enough of em! 

Some of my hoodies are over 10 years old.

And some are from the College years... or year... actually like 3 months. 

I went for 1 semester... don't judge. 

This next one is because I'm a Fan by marriage! Not that I'm not a real fan. I am. But I wasn't until I got married.

This next one is my favorite band. Kings of Leon. And I bought this at a concert. My second KOL concert actually.

And another fav... I got this one on vacation in Florida. I begged the hubs for a hoodie and he said yes with one stipulation. He had to pick it out. This is the one I had wanted anyways.

Having such a large collection there are some that never get worn. But I'm saving them. Because eventually I'm going to make one EPIC quilt out of all my hoodies. And it is going to be the most amazing quilt ever!

And then I'll get to start my collection all over... because you always have to have some hoodies to wear.

My Hell (Warning: May Trigger) (With UPDATE)

I sat down an hour and a half ago to begin writing out a story. This story is my story. It's terrible, and haunting, and makes me sick to my stomach to think about.

I am damn proud of myself right now. I just finished writing 17 pages worth. There is more to write but I cannot manage anything else at the moment. I have most of the major stuff written... kinda. I have more ideas and thoughts swimming in my head, but I'm physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted. I feel as if I have been beaten up and broken and left bleeding on the pavement. But I'm still proud. A bit scared of what I may do til sleep comes and replaces the thoughts in my head with some much needed nonsense...

But I just had a thought... I'll probably dream about it, about what I just put on paper to try to help ease it all out of my head. I will probably dream about him. The more I've thought about it, the more literal my dreams have been... no longer verging on metaphorical, but being much more straight forward. And it's scary. I wake up most mornings feeling as if I had been molested during the night. It's hard to share a bed with my husband when that is going on. It's hard to sleep at all when that is going on. So I've been staying up til the sun is rising and my eyelids can't possibly stay open for another second. I know those dreams are just that... dreams. They are not real. The touching, abuse, and trauma from them is not real. But the feelings, the pain, the hurt... all that IS real. And it sticks around, ruining my days and leading only to more sleepless/nightmarish nights.

And here are the chills, up and down my spine as I think about it all, like his nasty fingers on me. The headache and stomach ache have been there since I first began writing nearly 2 hours ago. The chest pains have come and gone while I wrote, depending on where I was in the story.

I'm scared to even move. I know I'm on the edge. Do I try to take something to calm myself down? Do I wake Handsome and ask for his help in distracting me? Do I just accept that my night is going to be Hell and get on with getting it over with? It's difficult because I guess I knew this would come from bringing up so much of the story to the forefront of my mind, So I probably shouldn't be writing it in the middle of the night, so that I can protect myself from moments such as this. But at the same time, This is about the only time I can find the privacy and "flow" to write it out.

I need something uplifting. Something to completely redirect my thoughts. Something to get these images out of my head. Anything to get HIM out of my mind. At least tomorrow(later today) I will be able to see my therapist and hash some of this out. But again, that will result in keeping all this in the forefront of my mind, leave it swirling in there, and it will be a shadow on the rest of the day. And handsome will not be home tomorrow night to be my safety net to catch me if/when I fall to far into hell. But a friend will be stopping by. Maybe the whole purpose of planning our catch-up was divinely inspired, so that I would not be alone during this time.

The most random thing I can think to do to lift my spirits at the moment is a McDonald's Rolo McFlurry. I love those freakin things. And I want one, right now. My reward, for a hard job well done. But I'm afraid to go alone. If I'm alone, I will feel the shadows behind me in the car. Not even the radio on full blast will shoo them away. If I'm alone there may be thoughts of self-harm that creep in, and I'm trying to avoid them at all costs... especially after I lost my head a bit this evening and hurt my thumb in a fit.

So I could wake Handsome up and see if he would be willing to go get me one, or ride with me. Pregnant women do stuff like that all the time right?  I have one awful baby in my head that needs a McFlurry to calm down... Only I can't use the excuse that he made me like that, so he had to deal with it... The exact opposite is true. He tries so hard to be understanding, to help, to relieve as much of the pain as he can, to be exactly what I need him to be (though most times neither one of  us know what that is.)  So If I wake him up to help me, there will be guilt from him losing sleep. He has work tomorrow, and scout camp after that. He needs to sleep. I need to be stronger. But as I said before... I'm tired. That story wears me out... and maybe I should have stopped before I got too deep into it.

Regardless, I need to stop thinking about this and find a distraction. Not sure what I'll find yet, but something (anything) has got to help.

I also found this website tonight. (http://writingourselveswhole.org/)  If you're trying to write about traumatic experiences in your life, this is a great place to go and check out. It helped me get started tonight. Maybe it could help you as well.

****I've had a few messages from people on FB and emails and others just checking on me to make sure I'm doing okay. I'm great. I ended up waking Chris up and we went to McDonald's at 3 in the morning (and they were busy... WTHeck?)  Turns out they were cleaning their ice cream machine, so no McFlurry, but Handsome helped me get my mind off everything and we laughed and laughed and ended up turning on the Princess Bride when we got back home. So yeah... I'm good. Thank you all for your concern and for making sure I'm doing good. I appreciate it and love you all.

The Pivotal Moments

I went to see an old friend today. I haven't seen this gal in like 5 1/2 years. Last time I saw her was her wedding and I was preggers with T-bone. The way we met was interesting... destiny - to say the least.  Me and Handsome were bringing our friend, a recently single guy, to a church singles dance. We weren't supposed to be there, because we weren't single. There wasn't much point in him being there because he wasn't a member of our church at the time. But we all went. And there he met the woman who would soon become his wife, and later would be the mother of 3 of his children. And to think, he almost didn't go. And what if we hadn't invited him?

It's crazy to look back on life and see those very pivotal moments... the ones where lives change, where destiny steps in and sets things in motion.

There was one point in my life where I got a job out of convenience of location. It was right next to where my mom taught a bible study class every morning and since I didn't have a car, she could take me every morning and usually pick me up in the evening. There was no way to know all that would come out of that one job... I ended up being a teacher to a little boy who, along with his 2 older brothers, stole my heart. When I found out they were going to be separated in the foster care system, it tore me apart, and in turn, my parents ended up becoming foster parents for them in order to keep them together. My mom contacted our churches social services and found a couple who were interested in fostering and possibly adopting these little men. Many years and struggles and trials later, my little men have a wonderful mom and dad and have more love in their lives then they know what to do with. And it was because of a convenient job.

I feel like this year has been full of these tiny little moments all leading me down a path I would have never gone down on my own, all very pivotal in their own way. And there have been so  many people who have helped in leading me towards this path. I have no idea quite where this road is going, but I truly feel like it is where I'm meant to go. And I will follow it trusting that my Father in Heaven (or life or destiny or whatever you believe in) knows where I'm going and has a plan for me. I'm so excited to see where this road leads. It's been a pretty fun ride so far.

4th

Today has been off and weird and moody and hot and random... I could go on forever. Needless to say, I can't wait for it to be over, but this post is not about today... At least not today today. This post is about past Independence Days.

I don't have a whole ton of memories about the fourth. I do remember going to see fireworks at the local park. I remember sitting in a Kroger parking lot watching fireworks being shot off across the lake. One of my favorite memories of fireworks actually has nothing to do with home.

There was one year I was in Arizona staying with my sister over the summer. There was a huge hill (baby mountain) at the end of my sisters street. We climbed up to the top of the hill and saw fireworks for ton of different cities in the maricopa valley. There was Mesa, chandler, Tempe, and who knows where else. I just remember the entire skyline was being lit by different firework shows, and it was amazing.

I do tend to get a bit choked up on the Fourth. I have an extreme love for this country I call home. I am proud of where I'm from and the heritage I have here. I'm grateful for my ancestors who fought for my freedom. I'm grateful to my grandfathers and uncles who served in our country's military. I cannot hear or sing the Star Spangled Banner without tearing up. And my heart swells with pride when I hear my little girls recite the nations pledge.

I truly feel blessed to have been born and raised here in the USofA. So on that note, happy fourth y'all. Now let's go play with some fire!!!