Wednesday, October 21, 2015

So it's been awhile.

Things. Things have been happening. Oh they've been happening.

So remember when I quit my job? Like in August.
Ya. Pretty much the best move I've ever made.


Originally, we couldn't find daycare for Dillyn, so we started thinking of alternatives. We crunched some numbers and figured out I could stay at home. Which just made me elated because I pretty much was at the point of wanting to punch my boss every single moment of the day.

Let me play you the song of my people on the way out.


OK, enough about that.

So yes, I quit my job. And now I have a new boss:

Yup. She classy, and a bit sassy. But I'll take her.

Another thing I wasn't planning on is how much my photography business has EXPLODED. Seriously. Shit's for real folks.

I've done, on average, about 3-4 photo sessions a weekend since I left my full time desk job. THREE TO FOUR a weekend!!!! It's outta control!!!


Thank you. Thank you very much.

I actually think I'm busier now than I ever was strapped to a swivel chair. And I LOVE IT!!!! LOVE IT!!!!!

I'm having so much fun, and I get to cuddle my snuggle pants D every morning! I get to stay in PJs all day if I want. Or I get to spend the entire day gardening. It's WHATEVER I want to do.....well, after I do the laundry, clean the house, pick up toys, change 45 poopy diapers (no, we haven't started potty training yet....i don't want to talk about it), do the dishes, iron shirts, pick up more toys, vacuum, cook meals, feed a bottomless pit (I'm talking about Dillyn, not Ryan), pick up more toys, go to story time, go to dance, get groceries, pick up toys, vacuum.....did I say that already??? So ya. After all that (plus more, I'm sure) I get to do WHATEVER I want!!!!


I love it. I really do.

And I love getting to do things like this:
Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

Copyright LauraBelle Photography

I  never thought I would want to own my own business, let alone put myself and my photography 'out' there. But I'm so glad I had and have the support of so many friends and family to help me realize I'm 'good' enough to have a dream like this.....and make it come true!!!!

I know I said this last time, but I really need to get back into writing. It really does help me sort out my jacked up mind and make me feel better. So I'm going to try once again to put writing a priority!!! Get ready peeps!!!!


Friday, September 11, 2015

It's been awhile.

Thank you Josh for that goatastic internet find.

So. It's been awhile.
I haven't written in forever mainly because I have a two year old who sucks the ever loving life out of me. Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. (Shhhhh, And I can't wait for #2......soon y'all.....soon.)

Oh, and I should probably also mention that I quit my job.

You know.

The super lucrative one that made me millions, my boss wasn't a bullshit lying douchcanoe,  and His boss didn't like pansy's like that.

Moving on.

I found out my 'manager' was a liar about 2 years into my job. I finally had the guts to leave that place and shove my special finger up his ass after 6 years.

That was 2 months ago.

I am now a full time, work at home mom, seriously putting myself out there, to partly survive on my abilities to take good pictures.

Fuck my introverted bass-awkards life.


I don't know what's more screwed up. Me quitting a job where I dealt with one, possibly two, assholes a week, but the rest of the time i was pretty much left alone. Or the fact that I'm my own asshole now because I'm pushing myself to be the next Ansel Adams.  Fuck. Life sucks. But at the same time I love it.


So here I am.

4AM in the morning. Unable to sleep, because that's what happens when your unstable (at least thats what some people think), or, for some  reason , I'm so finally excited about life that you just can't let one second pass.

I remember.

I remember so much about 9-11. It's amazing because I typically don't remember shit. You know. Alcohol and all.

But in the middle of a full blown college party happy hour (at 830 in the judging), I remember.

I remember waking up for class....which was rare at that time. So rare that I couldn't sleep the night before, so I ended up just getting up early. I didn't go to ONE of those classes that semester.

I remember turning on the news....for some reason that now i can't recall. I remember getting pissed because I just wanted normal news, and every station was playing some bullshit terrorist attack. I didn't realize that it was our Homeland. I remember standing there like a zombie. i remember not believing.
I remember going out on the porch and looking up and down the street and people crying. My friends and neighbors asking ME if what I saw on my TV was real, because they truly thought it was a lie.

I remember wanting a drink but I was too paralyzed to move.

The last thing I remember was holding the remote and sitting on the edge of our couch and not leaving for twelve hours. I don't even think I peed.

I think the worse part was seeing the buildings fall. I mean, I saw that 2nd plane hit, and I was in shock. But sitting there and glued to MSNBC as the towers fell.....well. That did me in.

It was afternoon when I 'woke up'. Wasn't everyone in a trance?! I remember thanking God that I'd filled up the Mustang (god I miss that beast), the day before....even though i could have used that beer money. There were lines to gas pumps for literally miles. MILES.

I also remember a big convenient store getting their ass ripped for over charging....ahemmmmm Daras.

I remember the world changing. i remember FLAGS flying. WITH PRIDE! i'd never seen so much pride. I'd never seen so many American Flags.

I'd lived on this planet for twenty some years. I bet I could count on one hand how many american flags I saw proudly displayed outside homes.

September 12th, I saw millions. I saw red, white and blue everywhere. I saw unity. I saw love. I saw sorrow.

I remember that. All that.
I also remember and will never forget those that lost there lives that day...and days after.
I remember.
And will never forget.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

So, yeah, Howdy.

It's been awhile....I know. Lots going on! Lots! I miss you all and miss reading and writing so much!!! I've thought about it countless times and then, well, life gets in the way.

Well, life and work. Lots of work.
But it's good work!! I've been doing more and more photography and I'm absolutely having the time of my life!

I've recently decided to try and expand my little photo business, and I applied for a grant!! Yippee!!!!! However, I need ya'll's help! If you have a Facebook account, could you please just take a few little moments and vote for me?!?! I need 250 votes to qualify and as of earlier I only have 80 something.


I'll love you all LONG TIME!!!!

Here's some of the work I've been doing!! (Get ready, there's lots of examples!)

Saturday, May 16, 2015

LauraBelle in Motherhood....Take 2.

So remember when Dilly was born and like 2.5 days later I decided to take her and the dog to the vet? Well, not taking her to the vet, but the dog. You get it. Anyways, taking the dog.......with a newborn. Because i'm badass. And being so badass, I ran out of the house right after I breastfed and apparently forgot to hook up one of the lady saddles. So there I was, flying free. As the 65 year old male vet looked over Wyatt.
Good day for him.
Good day for everyone.

So, anyways, fast forward to today.

I got about negative 8 hours of sleep last night and in an effort to live up to my 'badass' mom status, I decided to take Dilly to the pool today. Normal. Do it all the time. Supersauce.

There we were, just hanging out. You know, sliding down the slide. Splashing around. Trying to get as much energy exerted as freaking possible so that Mama could go home and pass the hell baby napped too, of course.

And then it happened.

Flashbacks to a time so unhinged that one couldn't possibly repeat it.....let alone top it like a cherry on a sundae.

Damn. Now I want ice cream.

Moving on.

So, I'm getting ready to help Dillyn down the slide for like the 27 THOUSANDTH time.....And right when she gets to the bottom............




The back clip to my top came unhooked.


So I grab my top, hoping and praying that no one had the misfortune of seeing 'the girls' fly free.

I mean, seriously, no one needs to see that. Bless their hearts, they're like two little golf balls at the end of a toddler's tube sock. And all these poor people at the YMCA just don't need that in their lives.

Oh wait.....TODDLER!!! Holy Mother of Free Tits, MY daughter just went down the slide!

Yup, there she is, face down, nearly drowning with her little puddle jumper floaty as 'the tube socks' fly free.


So I grab her, and try to grab the girls. And we all try to shield ourselves from any poor civilians that may be of witness.

Unfortunately, there were witnesses. I mean, at least, I only saw one girl directly that watched the entire episode.  You just wait my high school just will be a mom one day and this shit will DEFINITELY happen to you. But I'm sure there were more witnesses. I may have even flashed a right nipple again as I was trying to pull Dilly to the slide stairs so I could get at least both hands to hook my shit back up.

Is it just me, or do other mothers have this much trouble with their boobs? I mean, really. What.The.Hell.

Bottom line is I didn't drown my daughter.
Points for me.
And I might or might not have given the worst boob show to a bunch of stay at home moms, young college kids, and other random boys/men/whothefuckcares. Not to mention all the 'children'.

This is my life.

And it's only fitting I share.

I write once in a year now. And it's all about boobs.

You're welcome. And this is why we're friends.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Dear Dilly...

I've decided to do some letters to my little DillyBean. Someone, I can't remember who, may Jordan? Lindsey? Anyways, someone sent me this link to this blog (that I also can't remember, because this is what happens when you birth a child.....your brain just disappears) that was written to their child in the sense that they were 'Sorry' for all the crap that they 'parented' upon them. Like, Sorry Dorothy, I don't know what the crap I was thinking naming you Dorothy and living in Kansas. You get it right? Right. Cause y'all be smartypants. So anyways, there's been too many times I've thought 'Dear Dilly, I can't believe you're still alive and actually growing', so I decided I need to record these thoughts forever and ever and ever. So that she has the privilege of looking back when she has a daughter some day and know that sometimes shit happens, like banging your daughter's head against the door jam in the middle of the night by accident, but life still goes on.

So here we go:

Dear Dilly,

I realized yesterday, that while you are almost 2 years old and walking around and able to pretty much 'be ok' without me hovering ever single millisecond of the day over you, that I was lying to myself. I know multiple people tell you to WATCH EVERY MOVE your toddler makes and DO NOT ADVERT YOUR EYES FROM THEM for one instant, I just figured that was like, you know, when you were in the bath, or near the stairs when there isn't a gate, or when the fireplace is going. You know. Important stuff. But when you're just hanging out in the living room while I'm trying to make dinner, change for the gym, fill my water bottle, clean up your dinner, turn the stove off because the water's boiling over on dinner, try to get my sock on while standing on one foot and answering the phone when Daddy calls, that you'd be fine. You know, just playing with your toys. In the 'safe' zone.

Ohhhhh, how quickly I was wrong. See, you were eating a fabulously and labor intensive meal of sliced deli meat and tomatoes when you decided that you wanted 'Dow, Dow, DOWWWWW!!!!' Meaning 'down'. Right that freaking second. You were done with your nutritious and gloriously prepared meal and wanted whatever a toddler wants at that instant. Well, you didn't really eat much, and being the person that was raised by my mother, that was raised by her mother, who was raised in the middle of a DO NOT throw shit away. At.All. So, bonus for the '1st Child', Wyatt, he gets your left overs and thinks he's King Shit. So there I go, scraping your din-din in the dog's empty food dish and promptly go about continuing the 4700 things I'm doing at one time.

Much to my surprise, Miss Dilly, when I turned around (in what felt like literally 2 seconds), you had just popped something in your mouth and swallowed.

This is what I thought, 'Oh shittlebits, she just ate a crayon again. Christ on a freaking crutch this girl is going to forever poop colored wax!!!'

And let me just stop to say, yes, yes you read that right. You have eaten crayons before. Shit happens. You survived. But that is not the point of this story.

Moving on. I immediately ran over to you and said, 'WHAT DID YOU EAT?! WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!' And, being that you're only 20ish months old, you just looked at me with your big blue eyes and then smiled the sweetest smile. You might have even shrugged. Not that you know how to shrug, and it could have been my imagination. But whatever. Then, by some twist of fate, I just happened to look behind you and notice the dog dish.

The EMPTY dog dish.


My child just ate her food out of the dogs dish. The slobber-covered, small dry dog food remnants covered, dirty as all hell, DOG DISH.

Winning at parenthood right here.

The lesson you can learn Dilly, is that the only thing your mother is worried about when you eat crayons is colored poop, but when you eat food out of the dog dish it almost sends her into a coma-induced state of panic. Not that I could do anything about it anyway, because it's already been ingested, but still. Things like this make me feel like I should be a parent to ALL kids, because clearly I'm doing it right.

I can't wait until someday your child eats out of your dog's dish, so you know the wonderful feeling that it gives you. And when you call and tell me about it, I will laugh. I will laugh so hard.


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Another Epic Tale of the Shittasticness that is My Life.

So you know how I was going to take The Toddler out for a 'jog' on Monday afternoon? Ya, well that didn't happen.
Shocker I know.

BUT! I did get an ambitious hair up my chubby pooper and dug out the stroller last night.......before the Torture Session (aka Bootcamp). I totally get extra points for that or something, right?! Right.  Now, mind you, the stroller probably hasn't been used in like months. Mainly because its been a frozen tundra here lately, and there's no need to expose the babe's sensitive skin to that chilly jazz (and I'm not talking about my child here. Me. It's all about Me.)

After I strap her little butt in and I finally get the damn Nike Running app to synchronize it's shit to the satellite and we head off. stupid satellites.

The loop around my neighborhood is about .5 to .6 miles long, so my goal was to do 2 laps. I mean, I know I can be a badass and power through 3 miles on the conveyor belt of death, but pushing a stroller......on a sandy, gravel, craptasticness road, with a nearly 30lb toddler attached, is a WHOLE other story. (Yes, THIRTY pounds. Child weighs as much as a 3 year old. And she's only 18 months. And still demands to be carried everywhere. Which I'm happily doing because that'll help with the Batwings. Totes Awesomesauce. **I was being sarcastic about it being awesomesauce, in case you didn't pick up on that**)

So away we go. I race.....and I use that term lightly....down the driveway and head around the loop. All the while The Toddler is leaning so far forward (to see the tire spin fast), that I'm pretty sure she's going to topple over and take me with her. So I'm reaching around the front trying to reign her back in, I'm still running of course, along with trying to jump over dog shit, beer cans, and other paraphernalia littered along our glorious road. Finally, I just give up. If Miss Sassypants is going to fall out of the stroller, then fine. I'll just deal with it then. mother.of.the.year.

We get about 1/4 of the way around and man, I'm hurting. I mean, my legs are on fire. They feel like the stumps of elephant legs that are stuck in quicksand.
Basically..............I'm dying.

Preach it Sista.

But I push through, like the semi-psychotic fool that I am. And I make it about .4 miles before I'm pretty sure I'm going faceplant the concrete and leave my child motherless in the big scary wilderness. I slow to a walk and actually catch up with some neighbors that I haven't met yet. Praise Baby Jesus for a distraction!!!!! Since I spent about 10 minutes being a little Chatty Cathy.....maybe or maybe not on purpose.....I didn't have enough time to go back around. So sad.

To make a long story short, I plow up the drive way and drop Dillybean in her high chair and zoom off to get my ass kicked by the Queen of Hades.

Good, grand, and wonderful. I'm a rockstar. Three cheers for me.

Fast forward to later that night. I'm sitting on the couch and my dear, sweet, loving husband pipes up and says, 'Hey, was it difficult pushing that stroller around?'

Ummmmm, YEAHHHHHhhhhhhhhhUUUUggggghhhhhhh. Duh. Jeezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

'Well, did you realize that all the tires were flat?'

**blink, blink**

'You mean you ran around all that way with flat tires?!?!'

Ohhhh, MuthaF&*ckingCr@pSh!tG$dDa#mnITStupidF&*ckingStroller!!!!!!!!!!

Never would have occurred to me to look at the tires.