Michael Jackson's Death Gave Me My Life

So, it's June 25, 2014.

Well, not really. I'm writing this in February, but scheduling it for this date. So it's February for me, June for you readers.

Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff.

Anyway, so on this day, five years ago, my life changed.

Michael Jackson passed away.

Michael was always in the soundtrack of my life somehow. He was in great company with BSB and Garth Brooks. I was listening to music when my sister told me he was in the hospital, and I was watching when his death was announced.His death didn't exactly hit me until that August, and then the devastation set in. I cried for days. I wrote, which is something I still do when I am distraught beyond belief.

However, his death was the catalyst for everything that is happening in my life now.

I met someone on a Michael Jackson forum, who became my best friend (and as of this writing we aren't really friends anymore, and I'm hoping that will change.). She was my lifeline through thick and thin, and I could always count on her to be there when I needed someone to talk to.

Through that wonderful person, I met the man who would become my husband, and a girl who is like my little sister. My husband and I didn't click at first, but then we did and the rest is history.

Through that man, I was given a daughter, who then gave me the motivation to become a self sufficient woman.

So when people say Michael Jackson changed their lives, please do not scoff, as it is possible. It happened to me.

You Know What Sucks?

Having an organization problem.

I've had problems keeping things organized ever since I was a little kid. I blame a teacher. She dumped out my messy desk in front of the class and made me feel like crap. By messy, it wasn't like old food and stuff, it was just paper. Old tests and the like.

I'm seriously hoping to get things under control when we get to the new place in T-Town, so I've taken to Pinterest to get some ideas. These were some of my favorites. If you click the pictures, it takes you to the original link =).

 

Seriously, one thing that I'm always having to look for is a cleaning supply. Someone's (me) always putting it somewhere else and then forgetting where they last put it. I love this idea.


Yes! I love this! No more having to find that pesky box with the wax paper or foil, because it's like right there! This is something I definitely want to use!


One thing I hate is a cluttered refrigerator. Something to think about, for sure.

 
Everyone loses their keys. Almost always at the moment you need them most. This thing is definitely going up in the new place, that way whenever husband (or I) loses the keys, I can say "your fault for not putting them in the key frame, dum dum!"


I am so excited to move. I really am. I have all of these ideas (curse you Pinterest) and I cannot wait to get started!

"I Was Too Busy..."

It's something we always hear. As an excuse, or as a regret, those four words always seem to pop up.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it to your birthday party, but I was too busy."

"I should have made more time for Grandma, but I was too busy."

Isn't it funny? We're ALWAYS too busy for something. We're too busy to say hi to Mom, or too busy to stop in at Papa's for a chat. We're too busy to stop and look at the horses that our children are fascinated by. We're too busy to stop in Nashville on a road trip, so the wife can admire the city that she once dreamed of taking over one day.

Hell, sometimes, we're too busy to be too busy.

Why can't we stop being busy for two minutes, and admire those horses? One day our children will be too old to be amazed by those beautiful creatures.

We need to give our moms a call. They weren't too busy for our crap, we can at least take ten minutes to listen to her.

Papa won't be around forever, to talk about the good old days. One day you'll wonder what really happened back in 1943, and he won't be around to ask.

Stop in Nashville, and let your wife sing there. It would be a dream come true, and she'll remember it forever.

Stop being too busy being busy, and start being too busy making these little moments count. One day, these moments will be gone, and all we're going to be left with is memories.

"After All This Time?" "Always..."

Yes, some Harry Potter references to a post that will be about my favorite band of all time.

Let me paint the scene for you. Yours truly is about five or six years old, in 1996 or 97. My aunt is about twelve or thirteen, and is babysitting the aforementioned child and her younger sister.

All of a sudden, the children hear something coming from the radio. It sounds creepy at first, but soon becomes a fun song to dance to.

And then, they hear it.

"Backstreet's back, alright!"

Thus, began a love affair with one of the biggest boy bands in the world. I became a huge fan, squealing when their videos came on, collecting every poster in the world. I endured ridicules from classmates after their star faded from America, yet I carried on, my love for these five boys never dwindling.

Fast forward to August 20, 2013. My sister and I, now 22 and 21, are sitting in a couple of chairs at the TWC Pavilion in Raleigh, NC. This was going to be my first concert, and how appropriate that it was a Backstreet Boys concert. They were one of my first musical loves (they compete Michael Jackson and Garth Brooks in my heart).

The concert was just amazing. It was better than my wildest dreams, and I hope I can attend another one. I don't have many words to describe what I felt when I saw them in person. I didn't see them on a TV screen or in a poster, I saw THEM. And now I know what the term "star struck" really means.

Now, my husband is ready to murder me because I have infected my daughter with the Backstreet love. She can sing along to nine songs of theirs, and that number will probably grow. She LOVES "Madeleine" and "Show Em What You're Made Of" (the latter being my song to her as she grows up), and will dance to "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" every time it's on.

Hey, it's better than Justin Bieber!

Why An Only?

It's a question I deal with a lot, which starts out like this:

"When are the two of you having another one?"

Answer: "We're not."

And then this is where things start to get fun. I will address the three main things I hear when I say that Ariel will be our only biological child.


#1 "You'll Change Your Mind."

Really? You really know this? How amazing, I've never met a psychic before! Mind telling me tomorrow's winning Mega Millions numbers, because I could use the money!

/sarcasm

I'm pretty sure I won't change my mind. Pregnancy was rough on me, mentally and physically. I have no desire to put my body through that again, much less my mind.


#2 "What if Ariel WANTS another brother or a sister?"

I wanted a pony when I was little, and I didn't get one. Why? A pony was impractical. If she wants a brother or a sister, it's something I'll discuss with her. I've considered adopting a child before. Not a baby, mind you, but that's a rant for another day.

Simply put, Ariel will not be lonely growing up. My family is huge, and lately my cousins have been reproducing like rabbits. My niece is two weeks younger than Ariel, and the two are pretty close. I know that moving her away from her cousins may not be the best, but as Ariel may be spending summers in North Carolina with her grandparents (still under discussion at the present time), she will not be short on family members her age to play with. Plus there's Brad's family, and his cousins who have children Ariel's age.

#3 "It's selfish."

What's selfish? Knowing that I can only handle one child being birthed from my body? Not wanting to change the life we've become accustomed to? Not wanting to go through the sleepless nights, constant diaper changes, and leaky boobs again? Yeah, maybe I am selfish, but it's not for a horrible reason. I like where my life is now, and we're finally in a routine again. Another baby would uproot all of that. I'm not doing it to be mean to anyone, but in the end it is my choice. And I choose not to have another child.

Attention all Pregnant Moms!

This is a public service announcement!

If you, or someone you know, is pregnant now, do not leave this page before reading this post.

There is this thing, called an uterine massage.

Sounds wonderful, does it not? You would LOVE  a massage after pushing a baby out (or having one cut out of your uterus, like me), would you not?

DO NOT BE FOOLED BY THE WONDERFUL NAME!

A uterine massage is Satan's term for "press down hard until they're speaking in tongues".

The gist is this: they are pressing down on your stomach to help contract your uterus down to normal size, and to get a lot of the blood out of there.

And they do this until your bleeding is back down to their version of normal.

This hurts. And by hurts, I mean the pain is so terrible, that you would gladly take a bullet to the foot to get your mind off the pain they are causing to your midsection.

They did this to me. As the pain meds and spinal block was wearing off on me. After a c section. They were pressing all on my STAPLED incision because I bled a lot during surgery (from the stories I've read, they only do this to the people who hemorrhage during delivery or surgery).

I wanted to MURDER everyone in that room. I'm sure I punched a nurse. I hurt the lactation consultant's ego when she asked me if I wanted to breast feed (G rated answer: NO).

They did this to me every half hour for three damn hours. Six times I went through this HELL.

The pain is still an effective birth control for those rare moments I think about having another.

No one warned me about this torture. Maybe because it hadn't happened to any of the mothers in my family. Maybe they have a sick sense of humor. I don't know. But it is my duty to let people know of this painful (yet sometimes gravely necessary) procedure. It's not meant to scare anyone, but to inform.

Introductions

Hello, everyone who is reading this. Only me at the moment, so HI ME!

Now that we've established that I am talking to myself, let me introduce myself.

My name is Rebecca. I am about to be 23 years old, and I am about to embark on the journey of a lifetime.

Actually, I'm only moving from North Carolina to Tulsa, Oklahoma, which isn't really considered a journey of a lifetime by most people.

However, it is the first time I'm leaving my home state to live somewhere else.

I am also a mother to a beautiful two year old girl. My Ariel Grace was born August 4, 2011. Her father's birthday was the next day, so I think I have a great excuse not to get him a birthday present for a while!

I married her father on July 28, 2012. Brad is someone who I had to get used to at first. Then he grew on me and I decided to give him a chance.

We didn't plan on getting married or having children, but life had different plans for us, you know? I found out I was pregnant, and honestly, I was scared out of my mind. Brad stepped up, got a decent job, and is a great father to our daughter. She is a daddy's girl, and looks just like him.

I don't really know why I decided to start this blog. Boredom, perhaps?

I find that writing calms me down. For example, I had a major disagreement with a girl I once considered my best friend. This was around the same time as NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). To ease the pain of the emotional trauma I was going through, I turned to writing. I finished my entire NaNoWriMo project in three weeks. Funny thing is, I could not remember a single thing I wrote until I re-read it all. My mind just closes off to everything but the story that wants to come out when I'm in the zone. Sidenote: Ironically, me and aforementioned former friend actually became close through writing.

So this blog...I don't want to say it's a mommy blog. I'm not the type to tell people how to do this or what to do, because I'm still learning this parenting thing. I mean sure, I have an opinion, but so does every other women who has pushed a kid out of their vagina (or, in my case, cut out of the uterus).

I guess this is where I will put my rants, my own parenting wins and fails, and maybe some words of wisdom to anyone who wants them.

But who am I kidding? I'm probably only talking to myself, anyway! =D