tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37181968297181234752024-03-13T12:53:01.550-05:00Beer, Dogs, and Getting Healthier...A journey to beautification and a healthier me......plus my love of beer!Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.comBlogger505125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-5675028260015619842018-01-19T20:02:00.002-06:002018-01-19T20:02:51.520-06:00Things are changing!I've decided to start writing again but am starting fresh.<br />
<br />
So check out my new blog at:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://sideofmoose.wordpress.com/">https://sideofmoose.wordpress.com/</a><br />
<br />
Love you and miss you all!!!Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-47279269651254246712016-06-23T12:52:00.001-05:002016-06-23T12:52:24.302-05:00The Joys of Depression<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's been
pretty rough lately. This pregnancy is really hard on me. Mentally and
physically. I forgot how debilitating depression can be when you're not in
control of it. It takes so much work to control my mind. It takes more effort
than just living. I think that's why most people chose other ways to deal with
it, or not deal with it at all. Sometimes I describe it as a hole that I just
can't get out of. A deep dark hole. That's not really an exact parallel
comparison. Because I don't visualize an actual 'hole' per se, but it's more of
how I feel mentally. My mind is in a deep dark pit. And it can't see the light.
I know I’m down there, I know I'm struggling to find the light, but I just
can't find the steps to climb out. It's frustrating as hell. And confusing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">That's the
other, terrible part. I feel so confused. I feel like I don't know which way is
up or down or if I’m going left or right. I truly just don't know. Now, part of
that is pregnancy brain, it's a real thing! I swear! It freaking sucks the genius
right outta ya. But the other part is depression. I can get so mixed up on my
feelings and thoughts. I just don't know what do to about it or how to fix my
confused thoughts! The majority of the time I just ignore it. I just choose not
to acknowledge that I’m confused, so then I just end up putting it so far out
of my mind that I’m not even living in reality. It happened the other day, I
was so caught up on just trying to act normal, i.e. not confused, not
depressed, not hurting, that I completely blacked out my loved ones. Meaning, I
blacked out what their feelings on life and events are like. I just completely
ignored them & reality. I ignored what is meaningful to them. And in turn,
I hurt them very much. Which led to me actually 'deal' with my confusion and
depression. And by 'dealing with it', I mean it came out in a big, ugly,
battle where I ended up having a panic attack and major cry fest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Letting it out
did help, but its not a remedy to my problems. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The only
silver lining in all this is I RECOGNIZE that I'm depressed. I KNOW I'm going
thru that, or that I'm in a struggle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the
hardest parts of this disease is RECOGNITION. Depression acts like a drug, or a
drink, it masks what you really feel inside, and replaces it with the exact
opposite. It makes you wonder if you really ARE depressed or hurting or
struggling, and makes you believe that you're not depressed, that you feel
fine, things are good, and you can handle life. In other words, it's like you
being completely high or drunk and thinking that you can have one more hit
or one more drink and walk that straight line all while saying the alphabet
backwards (not that I’ve had to do that or anything….moving on). When in
actuality, you should have been 'done' about 3 hits or drinks ago, and you're
already a wobbly walker and your ‘words’ if that’s what you want to call them,
just tumble out in a big pile of gurgles and rambles, equivalent of a one year
old baby. Depression feeds on your 'normal' thoughts of 'I need help', 'there's
something not right', 'this isn't me', 'why am I acting/doing/feeling like
this'. It replaces those 'trigger' thoughts with things like, 'I'm good!', 'I
don't need help!', 'I'm completely fine!'. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">So in the
past, I've gone around in a depressive haze thinking life is good, I'm grand,
I'm stable, and no one or nothing could change my mind. But NOPE. That's just
the depression talking. Life is not good, I am not grand, and I am extremely UNstable.
This time around, I RECOGNIZE that life sucks, I'm mentally in a shithole, and
that I need help. It's so hard to recognize that. So HARD! About as hard as
actually fixing yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let me introduce
you to the three parts of depression. Three different, and hard, struggles to
battling (and overcoming or winning) the war. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">-<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Part 1</b> in the War on Depression is <u>RECOGNITION
that you ARE depressed</u> and not thinking clearly. Recognizing you actually HAVE
a mental illness. And your thoughts are truly not YOUR thoughts. Sometimes even
your actions are not truly your actions. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">It's
Depression's thoughts & actions</b>. And it's a heavy battle. It's an
extremely difficult battle. And the majority never win. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">-<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Part 2</b> is <u>working though your
struggles and 'fixing' it</u>. An equally hard and difficult battle as Part 1,
because most of the time you don't have the resources available to 'fix' it. You
can't see past the depressive haze to find the solutions. That's why it's so
important to rely on family, friends, and medical professionals to HELP you. Let
Them Help You! Getting help is hard. Asking for help is even harder. For
myself, it makes me feel like a failure. Even after all these years in
counseling and working on improving myself, I still have a hard time reaching
out for help. Mostly, it’s because of my personality type, and only <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">partly</i> because I'm stubborn as hell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">-<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Part 3</b>, another uphill-Mt-Everest-high
battle, is after you’ve conquered Parts 1 and 2, then <u>you have to MAINTAIN</u>.
You have to struggle, every day, every minute, every second to maintain your
‘normal’ thoughts and not let Depression move back in. Yes, there’s medication
to help. Yes, there are professionals and loved ones to help. But it’s truly up
to you, and the strength you have in yourself. Which at this point, you’ve used
almost every freaking ounce of strength you have just battling (and winning)
Parts 1 and 2. There’s like seriously about a mosquito fart amount of strength
left in your mind to deal with mundane things such as eating & pooping, let
alone enough strength to funnel that into trying to win <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">another</i> battle against Depression. And actually this one is the
hardest yet, because it’s not just a battle to win, but it’s a LIFETIME of
struggle to just be ‘normal’. There’s never a winning or overcoming side,
there’s either MAINTAINING or losing. And if you slip and lose, you get sucked
right back into Depression and have to start all over again with Part 1.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">So, that’s my
life in a nutshell. Riding a freaking carousal on the back of a very slippery,
slightly odd looking, plastic frog (because all the pretty unicorns are taken),
going up and down and up and down, and round and round, all the while trying
not to slide off the back and make a fool of myself. Oh the joys of living with
Depression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anyways. One
thing that helps me is writing, reading and re-reading my written word, and
hopefully seeing a different perspective. It’s been too long since I’ve
expressed myself, and that’s probably part of the issue with my depression
coming back around again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I write to not
only help myself, but hopefully to help others too. I believe knowing someone
else’s struggles, faults, and/or weaknesses will maybe touch another’s life and
help them see their struggles, faults, and/or weaknesses and realize they’re
not alone. Going through depression is hard enough as it is. But going it alone
is even worse. There <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">are</b> people out
there that feel your pain, know your pain, and can help fix that pain. But
being silent isn’t going to help you or them, now is it?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thanks for
reading and seeing my struggle! I know it helped me to get it out, hopefully it’ll
help you too!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Cheers!!!!</span></div>
Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-37033502756825904052016-04-28T21:49:00.001-05:002016-04-28T21:49:39.884-05:00Why.You know how every once in awhile you're walking through the grocery store and you see one of 'those' mothers?<br />
You know the ones.<br />
She's got at least one toddler hanging on her pant leg, possibly with another, older or younger child, most likely crying. Her attire is nothing short of a homeless person/crack addict. Her hair is best described as 'there & everywhere, with a slight sheen'.<br />
<br />
I mean, I am NOT judging! I can't count how many times that it's been my dear, sweet husband that has not-so-gently asked how many <b><i>days</i></b> it's been since my body has been graced with soapy water and a loofah sponge. I mean if the love of my life, my rock, he who promised to love me better or worse, The Man <i>casually</i> mentions that it's <i>possible</i> the fumes radiating from my body are similar, if not exactly, to that of a 13 year old boy's jock strap that's been buried in his gym locker for 82 days......well then. I definitely am NOT judging.<br />
<br />
What I'm trying to say is that you've seen that wonderful mother at the grocery store, right? The one with that slight crazed look? With one eye that has a constant switch? You've seen her, yes, you've seen her.<br />
<br />
I'm ashamed to admit that pre-kid, I looked at those mothers with pity and fear. Fear for myself, I mean. Hell, even POST-kid, I looked at those mother's with <i>that </i>look. I know. I know. I can't even stand typing that. I feel like I'm betraying <i>my</i> people. My Mama <i><b>People</b></i>. But it's true. I would always secretly wonder what finally made her break, ya know? I mean, every mother that goes to the grocery store with even one kid, DESERVES to look like a hot mess on laundry day. She deserves the light socket psycho bun and the walking dead gaunt.<br />
<br />
But the crazed look?<br />
The eye twitch?<br />
Do kids <i>really</i> do that????<br />
<br />
Naaaaaaa.......I thought.<br />
No way.<br />
<br />
I mean, our little angel(s) couldn't really make THAT happen to us mothers............<br />
Could they?<br />
<br />
Here I am, Two.point.GoingOnTwenty-twoYearOldDramaOfABeverlyHillsHousewife years of being a mother, and while I'll definitely admit (and might even take pride) in my overall 'stellar' beauty queen/crackhead appearance and my occasional locker room stench, but I've always thought I kept a pretty sane head. Oh, I have moments alright. There are definitely moments. But I have truly never felt like I wanted to stick green golf tees in my ear drums, run around in nothing but a neon purple tutu, and loudly declare that I'm Shrek's next Bride of FrankenHell or anything.<br />
<br />
That is.........<br />
<br />
Until last week.<br />
<br />
When my little, innocent, curly haired Mini-Me learned the question..................Why?<br />
<br />
-Dillyn, put your shoes on!<br />
>>>Why?<br />
-Dillyn, eat your beans.<br />
>>>Why?<br />
-Dillyn, you ask a lot of questions.<br />
>>>Why, Mommy? Why?<br />
<br />
YES! WHY?! WHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?!?!?!?!<br />
<br />
And I can handle those teeny 'Why's'. But it's my personal favorite conversation that has been on effing repeat, four times a day, for the last 5 or more days (I've lost count at this point, because I've been too busy looking for golf tees) that really has taken me to the next level:<br />
<br />
----Driving down the road, most likely to my 2nd home aka the grocery store----<br />
D: OH MOMMY!!! LOOK!!! A school bus!!!!<br />
Me: Yes, that is a school bus.<br />
D: I wanna ride in a school bus!!! RIGHT.NOWWWW!!!!<br />
Me: Well, you can't ride on one right now, but maybe some day.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me: Because you aren't old enough to go to school.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me: Because you need to grow up big and tall before you ride the school bus.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me (my eye is getting this funny feeling): I don't know Dillyn.<br />
D (pauses for 2 seconds): Can I ride on a school bus and pick pumpkins?<br />
Me: No you can't pick pumpkins right now.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me: Because pumpkins aren't ready yet.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me: Because they grow in the fall. And its spring time. We have to wait.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me: Because they aren't ready yet.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me: Because they need to grow longer.<br />
D: Why?<br />
Me (the funny eye feeling is now a constant blink, my eye won't stop blinking, it makes it hard to drive): Because pumpkins grow in October, and October is a month in the fall. Right now we're in April, and April is a month in the spring. We have to go all the way through spring, then summer, and then fall is here. We can't pick pumpkins until it's October, the fall, and Halloween. When you dress up for Trick or Treat. So we have to wait. And unicorns are real. And pretty. And i want to ride a flying unicorn into the sunset. To a deserted island. Where I never have to see a school bus or a pumpkin for the rest of my life.<br />
D: Why?<br />
D: Why, Mommy?<br />
D: Why?<br />
D: Why can't I ride on a school bus?<br />
<br />
At this point, the blinking has turned into <b>the</b> twitching.<br />
I have also thought seriously hard about repeatedly ramming my head into the steering wheel more than once but know that the store is within minutes, and I will hopefully be saved by distracting her with something else. Anything else. Please God don't let there be a school bus in the parking lot. Or a freaking pumpkin anywhere. ANYWHERE.<br />
We have arrived.<br />
My eye is twitching more. If that's even possible.<br />
I check the rear view.<br />
Somehow my once cute little hair bun is beginning to look like an eagle's nest that was half set on fire, and then slicked with grease.<br />
I don't even know how these things happen. All I did was drive to the store. I did NOT leave the house like this.<br />
<br />
Oh my God. What did we come to the store for?<br />
<br />
Me (thinking out loud): I can't remember what we came to the store for.<br />
D: Why?<br />
<br />
Holy.Shit.<br />
<br />
I am now <i>that</i> mother.<br />
<br />
I have finally gotten my age-old question of how <i>those</i> mothers get <i>that</i> way.<br />
<br />
It's by a little three letter word.<br />
<br />
Why.<br />
<br />
PS: Do you know if the grocery store sells golf tees and tulle?Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-35988341786787439592016-04-13T17:09:00.001-05:002016-04-13T17:10:00.566-05:00Did ya miss me?!So, it's been too long. I know.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//giphy.com/embed/3o6QLcNZgGKvFBluKs?html5=true" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/i-miss-you-3o6QLcNZgGKvFBluKs">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
I can't believe the last time I wrote was Oct of 2015. Freaking OC.TO.BER!<br />
This is what happens when you have kids. Or A kid. They suck the life and time right outta ya. Well, it's only 'A' kid until Sept 4th. Yes, yes, if you haven't heard another Baby Wiksten is due. If I wasn't puking or feeling like puking, dealing with headaches, bloody and runny nose, heartburn to kill a person, and extreme exhaustion, I would be jumping for joy. But seriously, just don't get pregnant. <br />
Ok, I'm kidding.<br />
Slightly.<br />
No really, we tried long and hard again for this one and every toilet hugging moment is a blessing! Truly! I can't wait until Sept, and not just because this pregnancy is such joy, but because I can't wait to see what type of ornery little rascal this next one is going to be. I.Can.Not.Wait.<br />
<br />
Moving on.<br />
<br />
The real reason I'm writing again, is because I straight up miss it. And I need it. As most of you know, I struggle with severe depression and anxiety and writing has always been a great release for me. I tried to lie to myself and say 1. I don't need to write, I'm a badass!; 2. I don't have time to write, I'm a mom!; 3. No one cares, why should I! But the biggest lie was all those put together to mask the real reason I didn't want to write again, which was fear of rejection, anxiety of putting myself out there again, and just over all panic attacks. You know, the normal, every day, crap a woman worries about when considering getting back into writing a little, itty, bitty, teeny, tiny blog about (of all things) Beer, Dogs, and Health. <br />
<br />
First of all, I'm far from a badass. That's just ridiculous.<br />
B. Yes, I'm a mom, but even mothers......wait, ESPECIALLY mothers......need a way to release, they need a way to vent, and they definitely need to make time to do something THEY want to do (even if it's only taking a poop-poop by yourself, complete with the luxury of getting your <i><b>own</b></i> paper and flushing your <b><i>own</i></b> toilet.)<br />
And finally, I care. I do. I care about me, even if no one reads my shit-nanegans. It helps me. I started this just for myself, and I'm going to start AGAIN just for myself!<br />
<br />
Here's where things get exciting.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//giphy.com/embed/AGGz7y0rCYxdS?html5=true" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/art-funny-iscreaming-AGGz7y0rCYxdS">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
I'm changing this ol' bloggy up a little. I'm still going to concentrate on getting healthier, but mainly I'm going to be writing to clear my mess of a noggin. Oh, and don't worry, if you haven't caught on already, I'm still going to try and be a below average funny person, slightly inappropriate, and most importantly.....real (aka boring. It's fine, you can tell me. I can take it.)<br />
<br />
Until next time.<br />
Cheers!!!<br />
<br />
PS, I put on my big girl panties and bought a domain name for this little thing..... <a href="http://www.beerdogshealth.com/">www.beerdogshealth.com</a><br />
<br />
Now you don't have to write a paragraph to get here.<br />
You're welcome.Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-78920251549662288972015-10-21T10:37:00.000-05:002015-10-21T10:37:12.923-05:00So it's been awhile.<br />
<br />
Things. Things have been happening. Oh they've been happening.<br />
<br />
So remember when I quit my job? Like in August.<br />
Ya. Pretty much the best move I've ever made.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//giphy.com/embed/s6PHqKrv9xiKI" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/jimmy-fallon-matt-lauer-gangnam-style-dance-s6PHqKrv9xiKI">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Let me play you the song of my people on the way out.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="309" src="//giphy.com/embed/9JWWMAbUoAtH2" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/9JWWMAbUoAtH2">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
OK, enough about that.<br />
<br />
So yes, I quit my job. And now I have a new boss:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Yup. She classy, and a bit sassy. But I'll take her.<br />
<br />
Another thing I wasn't planning on is how much my<a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank"> photography business</a> has EXPLODED. Seriously. Shit's for real folks.<br />
<br />
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!!!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="269" src="//giphy.com/embed/AdQQk4MsckloY" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/bachelorette-kaitlyn-bachelor-AdQQk4MsckloY">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
Thank you. Thank you very much.<br />
<br />
I actually think I'm busier now than I ever was strapped to a swivel chair. And I LOVE IT!!!! LOVE IT!!!!!<br />
<br />
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!!!!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="250" src="//giphy.com/embed/fvwgOui2RBRMA" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/bill-murray-kingpin-fvwgOui2RBRMA">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
I love it. I really do.<br />
<br />
And I love getting to do things like this:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJwWDz-BNNPN0MIiibTwnzX2I7qwxM2t51YE55_gVUg2RZX5sDUK4hMe8BN16TkZMV_aWwHbwSupmb2cGmQvsXWGaeVkMAitTOsDSGcIHs0-_hzXjNHUP4heqMVbs7gO1_Rp8JTlp1QYH/s1600/Ortega%252C+Cole+Engagement-35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJwWDz-BNNPN0MIiibTwnzX2I7qwxM2t51YE55_gVUg2RZX5sDUK4hMe8BN16TkZMV_aWwHbwSupmb2cGmQvsXWGaeVkMAitTOsDSGcIHs0-_hzXjNHUP4heqMVbs7gO1_Rp8JTlp1QYH/s640/Ortega%252C+Cole+Engagement-35.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCItWtFxbcRu0zC6qm1JqhP4zlGXYrSc3LQ8b3gFBNPKW6g0dDMXcZekSluyGo_e8mymXnOd3BIYzX0O7S0swWj9qZXnQ3Mf7fGpFl7rxwR32F6zShG_lwMeCAfSlhhy0A_282ucw1o07g/s1600/Quint-06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCItWtFxbcRu0zC6qm1JqhP4zlGXYrSc3LQ8b3gFBNPKW6g0dDMXcZekSluyGo_e8mymXnOd3BIYzX0O7S0swWj9qZXnQ3Mf7fGpFl7rxwR32F6zShG_lwMeCAfSlhhy0A_282ucw1o07g/s640/Quint-06.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_7SjeUdfMrFn1jziwACOGLSaYcBhYtATW4lvviJxNY_6xkSuW3jKIC-jHznqoqBpxDTz-qz6h3qz7b0iGJkxz04pGe1nLL0XibFmMXESbyiwMECR_AmC1aPXPTuaQpJnN2qJvEkPc2VT/s1600/Suther-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_7SjeUdfMrFn1jziwACOGLSaYcBhYtATW4lvviJxNY_6xkSuW3jKIC-jHznqoqBpxDTz-qz6h3qz7b0iGJkxz04pGe1nLL0XibFmMXESbyiwMECR_AmC1aPXPTuaQpJnN2qJvEkPc2VT/s640/Suther-32.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-_4VA0xh_90yuay5C_FYz_H3b1Sr_ek-8H8AAWR0xqWzP3fXJiugiqUqV50CeZrinvJ9I9ESnhcyCZ8E9U2AKtMGxAHFxrSBtqOXS0-Ia4SKDJMkTQQj-qibm7gAdH7yJAHzWF6ESn_Q/s1600/Wand-25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-_4VA0xh_90yuay5C_FYz_H3b1Sr_ek-8H8AAWR0xqWzP3fXJiugiqUqV50CeZrinvJ9I9ESnhcyCZ8E9U2AKtMGxAHFxrSBtqOXS0-Ia4SKDJMkTQQj-qibm7gAdH7yJAHzWF6ESn_Q/s640/Wand-25.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright <a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/" target="_blank">LauraBelle Photography</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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 <b>have</b> 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!!!!<br />
<br />
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!!!!<br />
<br />
Cheers!!<br />
<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-64673595619870394522015-09-11T04:15:00.002-05:002015-09-11T04:15:51.671-05:00It's been awhile.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy1JHL3AIlyDJS1ZKtz5kyeIVXgQH41LC5zXecO7clzDflYO1h67cnu05PCpdJnBS7XrQGFr47omdUvjKEhzG9C7O3EjzzT5hbPfsLD9BW25OzC6fGPa-Ez8mqp-8GdPXk-Bq9yR0vU6WP/s1600/12011284_10207364021284944_1441241267414043150_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy1JHL3AIlyDJS1ZKtz5kyeIVXgQH41LC5zXecO7clzDflYO1h67cnu05PCpdJnBS7XrQGFr47omdUvjKEhzG9C7O3EjzzT5hbPfsLD9BW25OzC6fGPa-Ez8mqp-8GdPXk-Bq9yR0vU6WP/s320/12011284_10207364021284944_1441241267414043150_n.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
Thank you Josh for that goatastic internet find.<br />
<br />
So. It's been awhile.<br />
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.)<br />
<br />
Oh, and I should probably also mention that I quit my job.<br />
<br />
You know.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Moving on.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
That was 2 months ago.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Fuck my introverted bass-awkards life.<br />
<br />
Yup.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
+++++<br />
<br />
So here I am.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-36432375241310920202015-09-11T02:41:00.000-05:002015-09-11T02:41:06.610-05:00I remember.I remember so much about 9-11. It's amazing because I typically don't remember shit. You know. Alcohol and all.<br />
<br />
But in the middle of a full blown college party happy hour (at 830 in the morning....no judging), I remember.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I remember wanting a drink but I was too paralyzed to move.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I also remember a big convenient store getting their ass ripped for over charging....ahemmmmm Daras.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
September 12th, I saw millions. I saw red, white and blue everywhere. I saw unity. I saw love. I saw sorrow.<br />
<br />
I remember that. All that.<br />
I also remember and will never forget those that lost there lives that day...and days after.<br />
I remember.<br />
And will never forget.<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-53217768166241343812015-06-10T15:15:00.000-05:002015-06-10T15:15:16.667-05:00So, 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.<br />
<br />
Well, life and work. Lots of work.<br />
But it's good work!! I've been doing more and more photography and I'm absolutely having the time of my life!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!<br />
<br />
I'll love you all LONG TIME!!!!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://www.missionmainstreetgrants.com/b/55421" target="_blank">VOTE HERE!</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Here's some of the work I've been doing!! (Get ready, there's lots of examples!)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivOrda2kGNpfIiRZGScysNmwBOAFgjJNBj4xWDGzGndDHVGowuz2V9oLHQhnMkkFs_3gzWoANilRmTjvPQ2E6WV3LiMCgnc39pNtEsSx3S44Dv4QCnxcJEKA6iF2MNG0BjoHLUtbM3foI_/s400/12807_855981201115324_7875984609368192930_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="285" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZHpds5R8US197-xEBGs9srAJSmb6By0sIhYbCzMyL7CqjdbTF0f4vnEjK490aJYPiFnP8W3Brd40vseID-yQdslIZxiCg7Wwea7Yqo9O-UfEQ_OGPhCEeKK0HHmG-78YCbLe_KiX-kJf/s1600/13777_862700060443438_4707240927409238504_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZHpds5R8US197-xEBGs9srAJSmb6By0sIhYbCzMyL7CqjdbTF0f4vnEjK490aJYPiFnP8W3Brd40vseID-yQdslIZxiCg7Wwea7Yqo9O-UfEQ_OGPhCEeKK0HHmG-78YCbLe_KiX-kJf/s400/13777_862700060443438_4707240927409238504_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2FiDHJrKSPKZ5BDjMmO7RLp0tXfOk6xGhpCBNaPJNOtoHaVb2ipSKH7DhBUMOd5HHjZGkdLCZoeSFiyuPPboOQ1OGgJKPOOqaOtx6b7eGbXZEkXhg3sg5ZIFoeE6IkzBG87V8YBmpAAR/s1600/21916_863418563704921_4384848443188345716_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2FiDHJrKSPKZ5BDjMmO7RLp0tXfOk6xGhpCBNaPJNOtoHaVb2ipSKH7DhBUMOd5HHjZGkdLCZoeSFiyuPPboOQ1OGgJKPOOqaOtx6b7eGbXZEkXhg3sg5ZIFoeE6IkzBG87V8YBmpAAR/s400/21916_863418563704921_4384848443188345716_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRFoDmEuzVfkvQCvgJCipxgIhkrNaSZoEw3hWay9LTWfSYE1y2ARsJaaXC5OB3rKl-sH1xtB-rmUWI1x2tXBbB4JJpbLIg_xC9iP3wVefQwpzvmC4w4dxbtlc9bW4xChuDZ7DNBWQGiMoW/s1600/10172629_855981071115337_1311809713383231720_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRFoDmEuzVfkvQCvgJCipxgIhkrNaSZoEw3hWay9LTWfSYE1y2ARsJaaXC5OB3rKl-sH1xtB-rmUWI1x2tXBbB4JJpbLIg_xC9iP3wVefQwpzvmC4w4dxbtlc9bW4xChuDZ7DNBWQGiMoW/s400/10172629_855981071115337_1311809713383231720_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RLaYEAXTWUroD61VZzmmyFdJgOX3dd1EgO44GRzd_P77_X8jumNDp2vfrPysTh5us7-2acmgzjlS8vIcsybQsMUGSuwqS4yMBBMPcWAXzeHfkNMirB6cqQtt6HahfPwfOyi3PiBRhi4U/s1600/10410243_871600656220045_6568256961709603596_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RLaYEAXTWUroD61VZzmmyFdJgOX3dd1EgO44GRzd_P77_X8jumNDp2vfrPysTh5us7-2acmgzjlS8vIcsybQsMUGSuwqS4yMBBMPcWAXzeHfkNMirB6cqQtt6HahfPwfOyi3PiBRhi4U/s400/10410243_871600656220045_6568256961709603596_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzG0uwwmxGVwQ7r8Z6NonPOHr18cpGlYRrz1ECF-0gll5VKO8EXI62ZqmsE6LxNcdoJTY2z-Frt1FB5DHWFBfBa04hwM3TBkKlY4yTp0exgIGXH7wD6wfKYb7sxikIIuEBuDMHjVyVT84/s1600/10441513_865901393456638_8538604853754189064_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzG0uwwmxGVwQ7r8Z6NonPOHr18cpGlYRrz1ECF-0gll5VKO8EXI62ZqmsE6LxNcdoJTY2z-Frt1FB5DHWFBfBa04hwM3TBkKlY4yTp0exgIGXH7wD6wfKYb7sxikIIuEBuDMHjVyVT84/s400/10441513_865901393456638_8538604853754189064_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglst4pMb9IOqUPidRR-G7oEdRx98_o0EGO9k0S7Ta4pw2h-1X0eARmtbyGujorxI2nEcnqA3dK0PA5HshUKlMGOyRomCsThoRyv9hO6VC5XVbt5R_Gz_NbDP5cdUhvjdedL3TwRWrAz9Em/s1600/10926218_855981047782006_3178706974808464851_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglst4pMb9IOqUPidRR-G7oEdRx98_o0EGO9k0S7Ta4pw2h-1X0eARmtbyGujorxI2nEcnqA3dK0PA5HshUKlMGOyRomCsThoRyv9hO6VC5XVbt5R_Gz_NbDP5cdUhvjdedL3TwRWrAz9Em/s400/10926218_855981047782006_3178706974808464851_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDo9yPlg_7uRYCt3jUQk_mjewCGs2NMAFZnkmdiHVqNzjdTjJRDew4TUefi8afG48mSj3TNiBJigNaNFMSaPWKv8HGQcjoG2IaJr7HHLut9-Wf7MURjylMAfLbbYU_8t-yaSdc_bN0nrGJ/s1600/11000591_865901286789982_9213049516845374710_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDo9yPlg_7uRYCt3jUQk_mjewCGs2NMAFZnkmdiHVqNzjdTjJRDew4TUefi8afG48mSj3TNiBJigNaNFMSaPWKv8HGQcjoG2IaJr7HHLut9-Wf7MURjylMAfLbbYU_8t-yaSdc_bN0nrGJ/s400/11000591_865901286789982_9213049516845374710_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFsz5tPNM6e4x4A7s8rEqO4tvaythb34r_42V5REfz_n8Dii4QMkwn-d6CNDMijY6GHrFX6pO5PlHWQ8dj0epVgancoQ-MWG3TP8FfnM5UG6hZ5MTE5AeZEfwSNsh4L7UOFUV3MvQofcE/s1600/11121766_855981034448674_2022461024309940094_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFsz5tPNM6e4x4A7s8rEqO4tvaythb34r_42V5REfz_n8Dii4QMkwn-d6CNDMijY6GHrFX6pO5PlHWQ8dj0epVgancoQ-MWG3TP8FfnM5UG6hZ5MTE5AeZEfwSNsh4L7UOFUV3MvQofcE/s400/11121766_855981034448674_2022461024309940094_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYN4Hgdlt6Z7ix9BTD64r4VktRhdFO5g7feS3avCmEaraO_fNl9S5tM2JVsXwSKkAHvqt34y3CjdPyk_JpzkMF1m0XZ3_AclwsbGE_ExO9SZcph_Mf7Jhi7c0Z8z_9ilL5XqWbVO0gZkrJ/s1600/11412273_884177021629075_7297779497292453689_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYN4Hgdlt6Z7ix9BTD64r4VktRhdFO5g7feS3avCmEaraO_fNl9S5tM2JVsXwSKkAHvqt34y3CjdPyk_JpzkMF1m0XZ3_AclwsbGE_ExO9SZcph_Mf7Jhi7c0Z8z_9ilL5XqWbVO0gZkrJ/s400/11412273_884177021629075_7297779497292453689_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoZ4uq__ZGWM5SCIeIm5en-w2Q3_CpDMU3PmqVQz3HXLQasM-Yb3t9huhI3XIGFXELIASmB6Jruze1MDYjhdjSPGybfwIl8oNW_goq-QjsP1eY5QtI9R6toA7-BTnnk3O5dKqZTEtrtOk/s1600/11406986_884214468291997_9164036084363361940_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoZ4uq__ZGWM5SCIeIm5en-w2Q3_CpDMU3PmqVQz3HXLQasM-Yb3t9huhI3XIGFXELIASmB6Jruze1MDYjhdjSPGybfwIl8oNW_goq-QjsP1eY5QtI9R6toA7-BTnnk3O5dKqZTEtrtOk/s400/11406986_884214468291997_9164036084363361940_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf5kBkoIW-io493n2t-wcl4PdrN9_Ckm1Y4vkyJKYQxxj2jkvsI_J2Ei_FQ1uC-MF_gei5aKjLtGnYnW64jOHLxWWw_aE-l5hXulRuEbBsdWFbCuU0bUxB21G391CsD0igc6l3M22d8Lfx/s1600/11377101_884214534958657_7701770725998522656_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf5kBkoIW-io493n2t-wcl4PdrN9_Ckm1Y4vkyJKYQxxj2jkvsI_J2Ei_FQ1uC-MF_gei5aKjLtGnYnW64jOHLxWWw_aE-l5hXulRuEbBsdWFbCuU0bUxB21G391CsD0igc6l3M22d8Lfx/s400/11377101_884214534958657_7701770725998522656_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbClcdVsfKEC4FM-Iz-L3p0W2gEDi6tTJOm9oA9CfmgHj9qlAdmoqpLtJWTZ___LFDY9ksnwLmLRbYLYILHjjfze4uhHCKl0hStU-EaYXg7AlxAU-roUYgAMvQbZlzRwSITVd1N-EYtbR/s1600/11390067_884214318292012_3345595331750170285_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbClcdVsfKEC4FM-Iz-L3p0W2gEDi6tTJOm9oA9CfmgHj9qlAdmoqpLtJWTZ___LFDY9ksnwLmLRbYLYILHjjfze4uhHCKl0hStU-EaYXg7AlxAU-roUYgAMvQbZlzRwSITVd1N-EYtbR/s400/11390067_884214318292012_3345595331750170285_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="http://www.laurabellephoto.com/">www.laurabellephoto.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Again! Don't forget to <a href="https://www.missionmainstreetgrants.com/b/55421" target="_blank">VOTE</a>!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjCB4oQvyQrmyqs8EOAANiDkFPtlb3XnfFJfsF0owOcs5ipL_rndQ58RRGitPV8rXJP3xXTWMkBVAqmrpv4OoCH4Y9kHsxvlbSGuH08y8xpOj4GHpr-ws5caSYqFbtuwfApQSeUxiAeAr/s1600/grant+2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjCB4oQvyQrmyqs8EOAANiDkFPtlb3XnfFJfsF0owOcs5ipL_rndQ58RRGitPV8rXJP3xXTWMkBVAqmrpv4OoCH4Y9kHsxvlbSGuH08y8xpOj4GHpr-ws5caSYqFbtuwfApQSeUxiAeAr/s400/grant+2015.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.missionmainstreetgrants.com/b/55421" target="_blank">HERE</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!!<br />
<br />
Cheers!</div>
Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-78854920081415264112015-05-16T00:07:00.000-05:002015-05-16T00:07:36.558-05:00LauraBelle 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.<br />
Good day for him.<br />
Good day for everyone.<br />
<br />
So, anyways, fast forward to today.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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 out.....as baby napped too, of course.<br />
<br />
And then it happened.<br />
<br />
Flashbacks to a time so unhinged that one couldn't possibly repeat it.....let alone top it like a cherry on a sundae.<br />
<br />
Damn. Now I want ice cream.<br />
<br />
Moving on.<br />
<br />
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............<br />
<br />
..............<br />
<br />
......<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
The back clip to my top came unhooked.<br />
<br />
WHY DOES THIS SHIT HAPPEN TO ME?!?!<br />
<br />
So I grab my top, hoping and praying that no one had the misfortune of seeing 'the girls' fly free.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Oh wait.....TODDLER!!! Holy Mother of Free Tits, MY daughter just went down the slide!<br />
<br />
Yup, there she is, face down, nearly drowning with her little puddle jumper floaty as 'the tube socks' fly free.<br />
<br />
SHIT!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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 bumpkin.....you just wait.....you 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.<br />
<br />
Is it just me, or do other mothers have this much trouble with their boobs? I mean, really. What.The.Hell.<br />
<br />
Bottom line is I didn't drown my daughter.<br />
Points for me.<br />
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'.<br />
<br />
This is my life.<br />
<br />
And it's only fitting I share.<br />
<br />
I write once in a year now. And it's all about boobs.<br />
<br />
You're welcome. And this is why we're friends.<br />
<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-91455181412289434452015-04-10T11:25:00.000-05:002015-04-10T11:25:43.315-05:00Dear 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.<br />
<br />
So here we go:<br />
<br />
Dear Dilly,<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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 depression.....you 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!!!'<br />
<br />
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 <i><b>this</b></i> story.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
The EMPTY dog dish.<br />
<br />
Oh.My.Holy.Effing.Hell.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Winning at parenthood right here.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
But for now, DON'T EAT OUT OF THE FREAKING DOG'S BOWL!!! Good God.Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-43962724015783331282015-03-11T14:11:00.000-05:002015-03-11T14:11:05.545-05:00Another 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.<br />
Shocker I know.<br />
<br />
BUT! I did get an ambitious hair up my chubby pooper and dug out the stroller last night.......<i><b>before</b></i> the Torture Session (aka Bootcamp).<i> I totally get extra points for that or something, right?! Right. </i> 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.)<br />
<br />
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. <span style="font-size: x-small;">stupid satellites.</span><br />
<br />
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 <i>happily</i> 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**)<br />
<br />
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. <span style="font-size: x-small;">mother.of.the.year.</span><br />
<br />
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.<br />
Basically..............I'm dying.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Preach it Sista.<br />
<br />
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. <i>Praise Baby Jesus for a distraction!!!!! </i>Since I spent about 10 minutes being a little Chatty Cathy.....<i>maybe or maybe not on purpose</i>.....I didn't have enough time to go back around. So sad.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Good, grand, and wonderful. I'm a rockstar. Three cheers for me.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to later that night. I'm sitting on the couch and my dear, sweet, loving husband pipes up and says, <span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">'Hey, was it difficult pushing that stroller around?'</span><br />
<br />
Ummmmm, YEAHHHHHhhhhhhhhhUUUUggggghhhhhhh. Duh. Jeezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">'Well, did you realize that all the tires were flat?'</span><br />
<br />
**blink, blink**<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">'You mean you ran around all that way with flat tires?!?!'</span><br />
<br />
Ohhhh, MuthaF&*ckingCr@pSh!tG$dDa#mnITStupidF&*ckingStroller!!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
Never would have occurred to me to look at the tires.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="409" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//giphy.com/embed/9Xg6u2FWBmQLK?html5=true" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="480"></iframe><br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-57708934538862689422015-03-09T13:51:00.001-05:002015-03-09T13:51:50.036-05:00At first I was a Marathoner. But now I'm just lazy with a busted pair of jeans.You know how there are some days when you're all:<br />
<br />
I'M GOING TO RUN A MOTHER EFFING MARATHON!!!!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="177" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//giphy.com/embed/CUHXyh3yXr9kI?html5=true" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
And then like 2.I'mALazyAss seconds later, you're all:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="336" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//giphy.com/embed/o6Hc5c9O387Nm?html5=true" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
Ya. That's me.<br />
Anyone else with me?!<br />
Thought so.<br />
Procrastinating Pretend Over-Achievers UNITE!<br />
<br />
I am, however, still attending Bootcamp 3(ish) times a week. We're into our 5th week. Yippe Skippy for me. Apparently, since I'm working out like a gladiator, my body has decided that I need to eat ALL the foods. Seriously. ALL of it. I can NOT stop shoving junk in my mouth! Oh, there's cupcakes....ok, I'll have 6. Glazed donuts......baker's dozen please. Stuffed Green Peppers......oh, I'll forcefully shovel two large ones in my pie hole. While my 6'5" husband only has 1.5. Yeah. Just ONE would have been enough. Jesus, Mary, and Saggy Asses. GAHHHH!<br />
<br />
It's just soooo hard. *enter whiny pitiful voice*<br />
<br />
In other news is I'm getting off the juice.<br />
<br />
No not the 'roids.<br />
<br />
Soda Pop.<br />
<br />
Yup. I've gone 2 weeks. Well, I relapsed a little last weekend and had a can of the go-go nectar of the Gods. But I'm still winning in my mind.<br />
<br />
Back to Bootcamp.<br />
Otherwise known as Satan's Mistress's Attempt At Torturing The Little People.<br />
<br />
You know, some people think it's all:<br />
<br />
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<br />
But it's totally not.<br />
I mean, we work our ASSES off. The little Demon Princess (aka Morgan, Personal Trainer to the Minions) makes us actually sweat! Can you believe that shit?! I know, me either.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, even though I've gained weight and I haven't lost any inches. I do see my pitiful muscles forming. Like, I know that I have some shoulder muscles. And I'm starting to see my Ben & Jerry's (thunder thighs) take shape. And not look like two gigantic watermelons attached to my hips.<br />
<br />
Oh, quick note about my Ben & Jerry's. Jerry tried to make a break for it last week. Little bastard. Yup, there I was, about 9:54 in the morning, enjoying a mouthwatering sugar-loaded glazed donut, when I feel a little 'draft'. Or at least I feel like something is not quite right.....down there. Hoping that I just left my fly down, I tentatively glance down.<br />
<br />
Farts. (not literally, this is just an expression.)<br />
<br />
Yup, Jerry busted a hole in my FAVORITE pair a jeans. Basically going from upper inside thigh to back below my bubble ass. It was about 4 inches. Gives a whole new meaning to 'busted can of biscuits'.<br />
<br />
Double Farts.<br />
<br />
It's the middle of the morning. I couldn't exactly go home and change because, well, that's just not possible at my lovely place of employment. It's like The Labyrinth here, once you enter, you can't find your way back out. It's a miracle I actually get to leave at the end of my shift......oh wait, no I don't. Because sometimes <i>someone</i> schedules an interview at 4pm. My shift ends at 4pm. Fuck you very much. And it just so happened that the day Jerry tried for a flight of freedom, was my first interview that week. Holy balls, could my day not get any worse.<br />
<br />
So there I was, my right thigh just flapping in the wind, and I have to talk to someone about professionalism at my place of work. And to 'join my team', because we're just a special kind of quality. And not actually just a few crayons short of a full box.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, I made it through without anyone noticing. Or if they did notice, they didn't say anything. And if it would have been a bigger rip, i would have totally Bonnie-fied it by stapling that shit back together. But, sadly, it wasn't big enough.<br />
<br />
I also had a stern talking-to to Mr. Jerry, and enthusiastically stated that any future attempted jail breaks were strictly prohibited, I didn't care if he's feeling 'more muscular' or not. Shit's just not right.<br />
<br />
So that's what happened to me last week.<br />
This week I'm going to try and not eat an entire Little Debbie factory.<br />
And I might even run tonight. Since The Weather Gods are feeling generous and are blessing us with highs in the upper 60s. Don't worry tho, I'm sure they'll be little assholes and it'll snow next week. Might as well get out while I can, right?!<br />
Cheers to me trying to push the stroller through sand/gravel!!! Can't wait to see how this goes.<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-86991396684851922092015-02-11T09:59:00.000-06:002015-02-11T09:59:55.394-06:00Death by Bootcamp, brought to you by The Princess of Darkness. Kill me now.Here it is. The day after my Torture Class, and I want donuts.<br />
<br />
Christ on a maple glazed crutch!!!<br />
<br />
Oh, wait, let me back up. I haven't told y'all about Death by Bootcamp Torture Class have I?! Well. Just hang on to your ill-fitting sports bras for this jazz.<br />
<br />
So my <strike>bitch of a</strike> friend Tamra, bless her little heart, talked me into working out with a trainer once a week. And this was about 4 or so months ago. This is how I met The Princess of Darkness.....aka Morgan. She is The Evil One. Satan's Mistress. The Chief of Demontorture. The Enemy of Fat Righteousness. The Destroyer of Flabtasticness. Ohhhhh how I love that petite, little, shredded, uber-fit Princess.<br />
<br />
And after about 3 months, little Miss Tormentor mentioned that she was starting a 3-day a week bootcamp.....for 12 weeks. Why? Why do you do this to me?!<br />
<br />
Of course my little exercise pal Tamra was ALL about it. And of course, she pestered me and bullied me, and finally FORCED me to do it with her.<br />
<br />
We're now in Week 2.<br />
I have reached new levels of muscle soreness. Like I can't pee without using the hand-rails so sometimes I hold it so long I contemplate just letting it go in my office chair, but then realize that eventually I'll have to get up and everyone will see that I peed my pants, and I won't have pants to change into. But even if I did have extra pants I couldn't get into them anyway because I can't bent over or move my legs like that anymore because THAT pain is way worse than using the hand rails to squat over the porcelain throne. So, I get up and pee. And save myself once again from embarrassment.<br />
<br />
What was I talking about before the peeing?<br />
Oh ya, Week 2.<br />
<br />
So, last night, I'm feeling all superpower like and jump my flabby ass on Conveyor Belt of Death (otherwise known as the Treadmill) and decide to warm up by doing a little mile.<br />
I'm feeling good. I'm owning this shit. I'm rocking out.<br />
Mile up!<br />
Sweet! That wasn't so hard!<br />
Let's do this bitches!!<br />
<br />
So I stroll all badass-like over to the Personal Training Area and the Queen of Suffering says, 'Why are you all sweaty?'<br />
<br />
To which I reply, with a big ol' shit eaten grin, 'I just warmed up! I ran a mile!'<br />
<br />
Hippy Skippy and Dolphin Claps for me.<br />
<br />
She glances at me, with almost this look of pity, and says, 'Oh, well, then you're not going to like what we're doing today.'<br />
<br />
Mother of all things EVIL! She's making us run MORE!!!<br />
<br />
I was not prepared for this. I thought my running was done. Whyyyyyyyyyy!?!?!<br />
<br />
Oh, and get this! My little partner in crime, Miss Tamra wasn't even there!!! (not that it was her fault, her daughter was sick, but STILL!) There was only 3 of our 7 ladies there last night. But we three ROCKED IT! We're the A Team! Forshizzle.<br />
<br />
The workout started off all 'I can do this!' But that wimpy enthusiasm quickly took a hike. It was four stations, with four exercises each. You did each exercise for 40 seconds then rest for 20. Then you took a quick break and moseyed on down to the track to do a 1/4 of a mile (2 laps).<br />
<br />
First rotation.....eh, not bad.<br />
2nd....kinda felt like my lungs were a twinge warm and I had a funny tingling in my legs.<br />
3rd.....pretty sure I was going to die.<br />
4th.....couldn't breathe, seriously contemplated crawling the 20 feet back to our area, and absolutely positive I lost my legs on lap 1.shitmypants.<br />
<br />
SEE!!!!!<br />
Morgan's just sooooo mean!<br />
<br />
But, I do really love her. Because she's going to destroy my batwings. I just know it.<br />
Right?<br />
<br />
RIGHT?!?!<br />
<br />
Ok. I don't want donuts now.<br />
I want a freaking ice cream truck.<br />
And a Hostess Factory.<br />
<br />
75 more minutes until almost lunch time.<br />
<br />
I can do this.<br />
<br />
I can do this.<br />
<br />
I can do this.Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-44149862763330873342015-02-09T13:41:00.000-06:002015-02-09T13:41:19.409-06:00Did you know carrots are great Makeup Tools?! Someone has decided that EVERYTHING is a makeup brush...or lip gloss....or something that you rub on your lips or face.<br />
<br />
Yes. Everything.<br />
<br />
Oh, there's bottle of sunscreen on the floor???? Lets use it like it's a blush brush and rub it all over our face.<br />
<br />
Oh, there's a small bottle of (sealed) Essential Oil sitting on the counter, Lets use that as lip gloss and rub it all over our lips. And Mama's lips. And the dog's lips.<br />
<br />
Seriously! It's Everything! Dillyn will pick up the most random thing and start rubbing it all over her face! lol. It's hilarious, but super strangepants at the same time.<br />
<br />
Once, she grabbed a baby carrot and started rubbing it on her cheeks and forehead!<br />
<br />
And, just yesterday, we were outside playing (because the Weather Gods pulled their heads out for a quick second and gave us a brilliant weekend full of 70 degree weather. However it is short lived, because it's supposed to get down to 40 on Thursday. But no fear! It goes back up to 60 this weekend. Jesus, Mary, and El Nino, can they just make up their freaking minds already?!?! It's like the Weather Gods took an IV of Red Bull, then popped a few Speed pills, as they hang out in their purple straightjackets because they're Schizos). Moving on. We were playing outside and little Miss Beauty Queen in the Making was drawing with sidewalk chalk, and I was being the good mother that I am, and sitting in a lawn chair, reading a book, and drinking a beer. All the sudden I look up to see what she's drawing...........and OH.MY.GAWD. She's taken the black....BLACK.....chalk and is drawing all over her lips. Like she's putting lip gloss on.<br />
<br />
Ohhhhh child of mine......<br />
<br />
I quickly jumped up and said, 'No No!!'<br />
To which, she replied with, 'NO! NO!' (freaking sassypants) And then turned 90 degrees and took off at a full run in the other direction. Laughing & squealing like a hysterical person the whole time. Continuing to rub the black chalk all over her face.<br />
<br />
She's 18 months people. And it's already starting.<br />
<br />
Is this why most mothers have sippy cups of Mommy's Special Drink with them at all times?!?!<br />
<br />
It's nice to know that Dilly's a little girly. But even more nice that her favorite word right now is DEER, and that she has no problems digging her little fingers in the mud and wiping them all over herself. (Because that's what she did when she dropped the black chalk. *shakes head*)<br />
<br />
Here's a cute little video of her using the proper tools to put on 'make up'!<br />
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<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-7474278517870584832015-01-23T12:35:00.000-06:002015-01-23T12:35:14.562-06:00I'm a complete and utter (hehe, I said utter) Math-Challenged MORON.Nothing is more gratifying than when you realize you are a total freaking moron. Especially when you put your moronicness (totally a word) out for all the internets to see.<br />
<br />
I'd just like to clarify that I am in fact 33 years old. Years young. What the hell ever. I'm FUCKING THIRTY-THREE. Not 32. Not 34. Not 23, which is what I pretend sometimes when I do stupid shit, that's not related to trying to figure out my age.<br />
<br />
I believe however, that this is the most epic of stupid shit that I've done in quite a while.<br />
<br />
If you read my<a href="http://beerdogsandhealth.blogspot.com/2015/01/kinda-but-kinda-not-ten-things-thursday.html" target="_blank"> post yesterday</a>, then you know I mildly freaked out and thought I was 33 (soon to be *gasp* 34), but somehow missed normal second grade subtraction and <i><b>thought</b></i> I was 32. Like, seriously spend 48 hours thinking I was 32. Told my trainer I was 32. POSTED ON THE BLOGGY I WAS 32. Told ALL the people I was 32.<br />
<br />
When clearly, it's not only gloriously posted right under my picture to the right here----------<br />
|<br />
|<br />
|<br />
|<br />
|<br />
|<br />
|<br />
|-----><br />
BUT anyone that has a grade school education can figure out that I'm actually 33. Not 32.<br />
<br />
I think my math teacher of a mother (who taught me all though high school) is extremely proud of me right now.<br />
<br />
Actually, Mother, I blame you. Yup. That's what's going to happen here. I not only inherited your side of the family's classy ditziness, but you neglected to teach your OWN daughter basic math skills. Yes, this is all your fault. (Again, I might be acting like I'm 15 at the moment, but let's not dwell on that, mmmkay?!)<br />
<br />
And since I'm going to redirect my ignorance here, and continue on the Mom-Blame-Game, I'd like to share with you all <i>EXACTLY</i> where I come from.<br />
This was Mother's comment on a post I put on FB the other day:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfImTtIIHIllv8pBiVlGhyphenhyphenXtXss-g4kjbGstiiVJ76iUVQ9z-XIaEn_V0Gam8cv6wlIMKBBBNRF9icRSu9Fna6P9pk4Y-S9Q9yAdesRLCURjveEwb-36X1YlvyWVzFCZoHpB1WrPWBUgEf/s1600/fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfImTtIIHIllv8pBiVlGhyphenhyphenXtXss-g4kjbGstiiVJ76iUVQ9z-XIaEn_V0Gam8cv6wlIMKBBBNRF9icRSu9Fna6P9pk4Y-S9Q9yAdesRLCURjveEwb-36X1YlvyWVzFCZoHpB1WrPWBUgEf/s1600/fb.jpg" height="486" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
SEE PEOPLE?!?! <i><b>SEE!!!!</b></i><br />
<br />
All Heifer Free.<br />
<br />
I'd like to be all heifer free as well Mother. But I'm referring to my heifer sized ass.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In other news: Day 2 of my Sugar Overload Diet commenced with my employee bringing in fresh, straight from the oven, still radiating warmth, Krispy Kreme Donuts this morning.<br />
I've had 2.<br />
I'm thinking about having another.<br />
FML<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-77054950052354537272015-01-22T15:51:00.005-06:002015-01-22T15:51:52.989-06:00Kinda, but kinda not Ten Things Thursday.I've eaten nothing but chocolates today. Russell Stover chocolates. Some Vallallahalla or something chocolates from Minnesota. More Russell Stover chocolates. Ugh. I suck at life.<br />
<br />
Anywhoozle. <br />
<br />
You may (or may not) have noticed that I changed up my page a little. I decided that I wanted to add a little somepin-somepin to my title. I may just end up changing it even more. So it's like Beer, Dogs, Beauty, Baby, Chocoholic, Randomness, Obsessions, I Miss Summer, and Getting Healthier. Catchy???? Ya, I thought so too. <br />
<br />
Well, since venturing into the wonderful world of <a href="https://www.blogger.com/www.laurasboomlashes.com">beauty products</a> in October, I've kind of gone ape-shit for makeup. I know. I'm shocked myself. Coming from a girl that thought 'dressing up' was to include tinted chapstick into my minimally done makeup routine (and by minimally, I mean eye liner. Maaayyyyyybe some mascara, if I was feeling overzealous. Which never happens.) So, for me to now think about eye shadow AND foundation AND mascara AND *gasp* blush......shit's hit the fan peeps. But what's cool.....I freaking LOVE it! Maybe it's the artist in me, and thinking of my face as a canvas, or some shit like that. Or maybe it's because I'm a late bloomer and only started maturing into my 'teen years' in my thirties. Which, btw, I COMPLETELY thought I was 33 the other day. Seriously and positively thought I was going to be 34 in April. And kinda had a mini-stroke thinking about that. Until my friend graciously pointed out that I'm only 32. But, for realz people, I can't even remember how old I am. AND I'M ONLY 32! Jesus tits Mary Mother of donkey balls.<br />
<br />
OH, back to the topic of cosmetics. Yes, I've become slightly obsessed with it. I even started a Pinterest page. (You can find me <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/boomlashes/" target="_blank">HERE</a>, if you want to follow me. You should. Because it's cool. Just like me.) Anyways, so I'm going to start posting about new beauty trends on here and other amazeballs stuff. It won't take up all my little bloggy, but since it's something new and exciting for me, I figured I could share with The Cool People (that'd be y'all).<br />
<br />
In completely unrelated news. I have a mini-me.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cPRea1YyDG9tR2ewsLMH8isyWaxVaekQCqbdHcxxE46iYNwSBuU73cJq_vGflYbMiwAcV6eOCq4ifl1xNX9z8sk0_pNyFuvkduQWWORPNJGMXvJ-1J9cIY3U9H7bteJWqPXe1vipgodx/s1600/1513743_10152962805521855_8623886269139778155_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cPRea1YyDG9tR2ewsLMH8isyWaxVaekQCqbdHcxxE46iYNwSBuU73cJq_vGflYbMiwAcV6eOCq4ifl1xNX9z8sk0_pNyFuvkduQWWORPNJGMXvJ-1J9cIY3U9H7bteJWqPXe1vipgodx/s1600/1513743_10152962805521855_8623886269139778155_n.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bro and I. Circa 1985, I would have been 4ish.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib60OYexoiQpwQ-hL_DCw2_QyJzzF0fn9QoKE8WalWHqLTlsSKscuLDhOl6m_jiZEB87qSEIPnwWzSB9BRPGn4nxfvsCg9KhrWbP2e6WfyeZeoWaqNIgZcgnPxI5GtRiB2q_NJb6n9G__h/s1600/10425885_10152962805571855_6917693540180731788_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib60OYexoiQpwQ-hL_DCw2_QyJzzF0fn9QoKE8WalWHqLTlsSKscuLDhOl6m_jiZEB87qSEIPnwWzSB9BRPGn4nxfvsCg9KhrWbP2e6WfyeZeoWaqNIgZcgnPxI5GtRiB2q_NJb6n9G__h/s1600/10425885_10152962805571855_6917693540180731788_n.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Dillyn. Age 17mo.</td></tr>
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I would just like to point out the size of that child's head. As my lovely friend Amy from <a href="http://cheeseandsunkist.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Once Upon A Time In The Land Of Cheese & Sunkist</a> pointed out.......big headed babies are IN. This girl would win any big-head contest. Hands down. 99.8 Percentile people. LARGE AND IN CHARGE. I mean, look at her little toothpick arms. I think she's got more cushin' for the pushin' in her damn cheeks than she has on her biceps!!! But don't worry y'all. She got my Ben & Jerry's. Thunder Thighs. Big on the bottom. That's my girl. Takin' after her Mama in more ways than one. So proud.<br />
<br />
This was kinda a 10 Thing Thursday. Minus about 7 things. But still! It was random! And it's Thursday!<br />
<br />
Cheers to beers y'all!!! I might actually partake tonight. Cause I can. Yup.<br />
<br />
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<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-32755999323060677442015-01-20T11:24:00.001-06:002015-01-20T21:03:58.398-06:00Clumps are OUT! Younique 3D Mascara Tips!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwvJu-TlyedlPmGmn2ApJC2-iiic-JJ1vqT0NIL_6pvoRhvUDzwncKH6HgIpDibyZL_k-dIdrflyI1snELquuOKww2hJLQ7RfE6XolaM0iE3SLO4AZrzz8J79ax3uj6XLKkFQ37g7gQX_/s1600/3+top+tips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwvJu-TlyedlPmGmn2ApJC2-iiic-JJ1vqT0NIL_6pvoRhvUDzwncKH6HgIpDibyZL_k-dIdrflyI1snELquuOKww2hJLQ7RfE6XolaM0iE3SLO4AZrzz8J79ax3uj6XLKkFQ37g7gQX_/s1600/3+top+tips.jpg" height="483" width="640" /></a></div><!-- Please call pinit.js only once per page --><br />
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<div style="line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 11px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found some great tips from <a href="http://www.robinmiller.us/2014/12/08/got-clumps-3-tips-for-using-younique-3d-fiber-lashes-mascara/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">another blogger</span></a> on using your you<a href="http://www.laurasboomlashes.com/" target="_blank"> Younique 3D Fiber Lashes Mascara</a>! I already use these tips and thought posting them on my blog might help a few of my #BOOMlash Ladies!!! If you've got clumps, it could be because one or all of the following:</span></div><div style="line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 11px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong>1) You’re using regular mascara underneath your 3D Fiber Lashes. </strong>Yes, the insert that comes with Younique’s mascara says to use over regular mascara, but as you know, all mascaras are not the same. Try using your 3D Fiber Lashes without regular mascara underneath. You just might like it. Note: I don’t use regular mascara underneath the Younique mascara. It’s my preference and I’ve found that I like my lashes better when I’m only using Younique’s. If you are adamant about using mascara underneath, make sure you are using a “lengthening” mascara and not a “thickening” mascara as this can cause clumps.</span></div><div style="line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 11px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong>2) Using too much gel or fibers. **This is a GREAT tip**</strong> Sometimes when you first start using the gel, a lot of it gets on the lash brush. Try scraping a good amount of it off. Use less gel and less fibers, and build “layers” versus trying to achieve the look with one coat. The mascara is buildable so use less, just more coats. For example: gel, fibers, gel. Let sit for 30 seconds then gel, fibers, gel again.</span></div><div style="line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 11px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong>3) Not letting the fibers set long enough. </strong>If you don’t let the fibers set long enough and stick to the gel, it can cause the fibers to stick to the wand. Below is my method to applying 3D Fiber Lashes. Switching off between eyes gives the fibers time to set and won’t come off on the gel wand, which can cause clumping. But be carefully not to wait too long, because the gel will dry and then the fibers won't stick. Try applying Younique 3D Fiber Lashes Mascara in this order:</span></div><ol style="line-height: 19px; margin: 0px 0px 11px 25px; padding: 0px;"><li><h4 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Gel eye 1.</span></h4></li>
<li><h4 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Gel eye 2.</span></h4></li>
<li><h4 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Fibers eye 1.</span></h4></li>
<li><h4 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Fibers eye 2.</span></h4></li>
<li><h4 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Gel eye 1 to seal it up.</span></h4></li>
<li><h4 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Gel eye 2 to seal it up.</span></h4></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Repeat to continue building on the length/thickness.</span></span><h4 style="font-family: 'Courier New', sans-serif !important; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px; margin: 11px 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"></h4></li>
</ol><div style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hope this helps! I'd love to see pictures! Post some on my Facebook page <a href="https://www.facebook.com/laurawiksten" target="_blank">HERE</a> or email me!!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.laurasboomlashes.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQAeSXxpu_Xfmmwk54VOe9Ea832vVojY38y930r3F2395YDMAdOC4p3ZjRTp9FMZRdsuL60M2AzOZc3YkuBfz0nHVCImFdGLD7x9kZNZiub8VI0cv_T6hNqkpS24grfRf02vt7blxDxSr/s1600/Click+Here+to+Shop.jpg" height="100" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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<script async="" defer="" src="//assets.pinterest.com/js/pinit.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-8363339630415215152014-12-11T06:59:00.002-06:002015-01-19T21:04:46.885-06:00Beauty is.........<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLY5lpcQkcRHPlT5NgPb4RZViRV4KZvSFIyKBsHjA2nnFDIVi_J2hdOgCs81rfPNv8lWLDyAcq1qJcUHPMPQDcbT6DOddWaTpOzvIYyNY84Y0TgiIUjGkEoE5DxceSPpRV7dcoRmOfKTn/s1600/beauty+on+the+inside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLY5lpcQkcRHPlT5NgPb4RZViRV4KZvSFIyKBsHjA2nnFDIVi_J2hdOgCs81rfPNv8lWLDyAcq1qJcUHPMPQDcbT6DOddWaTpOzvIYyNY84Y0TgiIUjGkEoE5DxceSPpRV7dcoRmOfKTn/s1600/beauty+on+the+inside.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><a href="//www.pinterest.com/pin/create/button/" data-pin-do="buttonBookmark" data-pin-color="red" data-pin-height="28"><img src="//assets.pinterest.com/images/pidgets/pinit_fg_en_rect_red_28.png" /></a><br />
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I found this quote and became obsessed.<br />
Miss Sophia really knows her shit.<br />
<br />
Put your sweats on, this is long. But at the end is something that's the most amazing thing and I'm so proud to show y'all!!!!<br />
<br />
I'm sure anyone and everyone that's decided to get on a journey of weight loss or healthification (it's a word) has heard the advice "Well, it starts on the inside. If you don't feel beautiful on the inside you won't feel beautiful on the outside." Yuh feel me peeps? Ya, that's right. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout.<br />
<br />
I'd heard it before. I even thought I knew what it meant. But for some reason my brain was so obsessed with fitting into my skinny jeans that I never really paid attention to what I was feeling on the inside. I mean, don't get me wrong, being that I suffer from depression, my inner demonbitches are constantly fighting. It's like sorority-sumo-chocolate-pudding-wrestling inside my soul on a daily basis. So i'm pretty in-tune.....most of the time....with my feelings. I ain't gonna to lie tho, I never, NEVER, thought about working on beautifying/healthifying my soul. Where's the conveyor belt of death for that shit, HUH?!?!<br />
<br />
Well, things didn't start clicking for me until recently (need I remind you that I've been on this 'journey' for like 5 years). I've never been one to doll myself up on a regular basis. I mean, I work in a warehouse people. Where I get paint and ink and all sorts of chemicals all over myself. And then I go home, crawl right into my sweats and play with baby girl. What's the point, right? Might as well do the minimum, that way there's less to wash off at night. Or better yet, don't wear anything, that way I don't have to exert the enormous amount of energy to take 2 minutes out of my evening to wash my face before bed.<br />
<br />
Then, one day things changed. A friend of mine told me to try this 'magic' mascara. It's supposed to look like you're wearing falsies, but it's just mascara. About as normal as what I would wear every day. So, I'm like, OK, whatevs, give it here. And.OH.MY.GIDDY.AUNT. It was amazing! I put it on and my eyelashes were sooooooooo long. I didn't even realize I had short eyelashes until I saw myself with uber glam lashes! It's funny, I felt instantly prettier, just by that.<br />
<br />
So, of course I had to get my own. And actually, I ended up liking a lot of the other products that this company produces, so I thought what the hell, I'll just sign up and get a shitload of stuff, and if I sell some.....Great. If not.....no biggie.<br />
<br />
Now, keep with me here, because it's not all about this make-up stuffigans.<br />
<br />
Once I got some foundation, and new eye shadow, and lip gloss (that I actually freaking liked), I started getting all fussypants every day. I started waking up 20 minutes early just so I could play with how I wanted my eye shadow to look that day. Was I feeling Fierce???? Mmmm, maybe. Was I feeling Devious???? Hum, could be. I could be whatever I wanted!<br />
<br />
All the sudden, I started noticing that it wasn't about what shade I put on my eyes, or what lip gloss I wore that day. It wasn't about the 'outside'. I actually started to feel pretty on the inside. What the whahhhhh????<br />
<br />
That meant that I somehow felt 'ugly' on the inside before. Which is totally baffling to me, because, of course, I have my shit together people. All the time. Shit is <i>together</i>.<br />
<br />
But if I'm now just feeling pretty on the inside, then that's proof that my shit is definitely not together. Or not as together as I thought.<br />
Interesting dear Watson, Interesting.<br />
<br />
I started walking around with a new confidence. I started to pay attention to what I wore. And what jewelry I chose. But even more than that. My whole attitude changed. Not towards other people.....well, maybe a little bit towards other people.....but really, my attitude with myself. Or towards myself. I actually, for the first time in probably my adult life, <i><b>liked</b></i> who I saw in the mirror. And not because of the make-up, or cloths, or jewelry. I really, truly liked the <b><i>real</i></b> me. The 'inside' me. Dare I saw the <i>beautiful</i> me???? I think so ladies and gents! Dolphin claps for me!<br />
<br />
For some weird, twilightish, so-normal-for-me reason, a little mascara made me shine. It made me realize that I am beautiful. On the inside....and outside. No matter what my weight.<br />
<br />
OH. Ya. My weight. Right.<br />
<br />
Hold on to your shitter seats y'all.<br />
<br />
Through this entire magnum revelation, I had been eating like a gopher training to be a super-hippo. Cupcakes??? Why not. Pizza????? Morning, noon, and night??? Bring it on. I gave less than 2 shits about what I was shoving in my face or why I was shoving it in my face. I ate it all people. Ate.It.All.<br />
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So here's the real mystery: How, if I was eating at my unhealthiness, weighing the most I have in 6 years, having less energy than a dead beat sloth, did I feel <i>beautiful</i>?????????????<br />
<br />
Riddle me that shit Einstein.<br />
<br />
For once it wasn't about my weight, or how I vaselined my Ben & Jerry's into my fat jeans every morning.<br />
<br />
It was about....................what???? Happiness? Acceptance? Courage? Honesty? Realization?<br />
<br />
Really, I think it was about all that. And more! It was about: Who gives an elephant's ass what I look like on the outside? How I 'appear' to other people? How I 'appear' to myself's obsession with society's image? How I have a little (or sometimes a lot) busted can of biscuits over my pants? None of that really matters. In the long run. I mean, we all know that. It's just hard to believe it. Or accept it. But for some reason, for me, it started with a little 'magic' mascara. And it grew. It grew to be a love for the inner me. The 'me' that really matters.<br />
<br />
Once I realized this, it was like I was blinded by knowledge. Straight up walking on the face of the sun blinding.<br />
<br />
My weight didn't matter.<br />
My happiness with myself mattered.<br />
<br />
And just like the magic mascara, I somehow got my shit together....finally....and started treating my body the way I felt on the inside. I wanted the outside to match! Genius!<br />
<br />
And here's the results after 4 weeks:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy-712-6taG5ODfx2YXSd35BIXhPUJFw9QWKmQhQ12pgIEYX9vW4fawphbKhRaoSXZ2yMXjHB_KXX_LyZfqpf4WG7q5UQynrIjD_c7qYs3hYOYZE_JiV_lG2DCTT8s5KainKpgJt2JuLM/s1600/20141206_142232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy-712-6taG5ODfx2YXSd35BIXhPUJFw9QWKmQhQ12pgIEYX9vW4fawphbKhRaoSXZ2yMXjHB_KXX_LyZfqpf4WG7q5UQynrIjD_c7qYs3hYOYZE_JiV_lG2DCTT8s5KainKpgJt2JuLM/s1600/20141206_142232.jpg" height="640" width="530" /></a></div><br />
Yup. Proud.<br />
I am so proud.<br />
I'm on track. Finally!<br />
And that was almost a week ago. Just this morning I weighed myself, and I'm at 150.6!!!!!<br />
150.6!!!!!<br />
That's pre-baby weight y'all!!!! Finally. 2 years later.<br />
<br />
And besides realizing my beauty within, it had a lot to do with my diet and my training group (SHOUT OUT to Tamra, Kayla, and the Presidente of Pain.....Morgan!).<br />
What's my diet you ask? Oh, you know. I eat air, with a side of celery, dipped in water.<br />
Ya. It's rough.<br />
<br />
Seriously, I just quit eating shit. I don't rely on food to get me through an emotional state. I don't gorge myself whenever I feel like it because I want to.<br />
I eat when I'm hungry, and then, I only eat normal healthy food. No take out. No junk. No NUSSING!<br />
<br />
Everyone wants to know 'the trick'. I don't think there is one. I think it's truly up to you. Decide what makes YOU feel beautiful...on the INSIDE! Seriously. Once you feel beautiful on the inside, no matter your weight or eating habits, you'll feel beautiful on the outside.<br />
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Now go forth and be beautiful!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div id="UMS_TOOLTIP" style="background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; cursor: pointer; left: -100000px; position: absolute; top: -100000px; z-index: 2147483647;"><img class="UMSRatingIcon" id="ums_img_tooltip" /></div>Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-58184563077492782452014-12-02T15:24:00.001-06:002014-12-02T15:24:33.105-06:00Soooooo, this happened.....1. I only gained 2 pounds over the Thanksgiving weekend. Mainly from booze. I'll take it! Damn that delicious eggnog, Damn You!!! And my Mother for buying it!!!<br />
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<b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">DRINK ALL THE EGGNOG!!!</span></b></div>
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2. We left Dillybean with the grandparents last Saturday and Saturday night for much needed 'Adult Time'.....aka, going back to my college hometown and pretending I'm 22 and don't get hangovers. BTW, I'm not 22 and I totally still get hangovers. Just to let you know.<br />
<br />
Anyways. About 2 hours into my parents watching Dillyn, I get a text.<br />
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And not just any text.<br />
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<br />
Yes.<br />
<br />
Yes, that's right.<br />
<br />
My only child.....................practicing her bronc riding stance on a horse.<br />
<br />
ON.A.FUCKING.HORSE.<br />
<br />
I leave her for 24 hours and this is what happens. *shakes my head*<br />
<br />
Not only did she ride the horsey's, she <i><b>liked</b></i> the horsey's. Not afraid one bit.<br />
<br />
I'm in such deep shit.<br />
<br />
Then my Mother had the audacity to say, "Well, I know what I'm getting her for Christmas now!!!!" All cheerful and excited-like. I wanted to smack her upside the skull, and say, "Get your shit together Mother, you're not buying her a pony, for fucks sake." But in reality, I just gave her the death-glare and said, "Um no. No pony's for Christmas." Of course, my Mother laughed her ass off and said, "Ohhhh, I wouldn't do that!!!" Uh huh. Sure you wouldn't. If you do end up getting her a damn pony, I want you to know that I'm going to save up all that horse's shit and drop it on your doorstep at least 3 times a year. Just sayin'.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So, ya, Thanksgiving was awesome.<br />
<br />
I drank all the calories and learned my daughter isn't even afraid of a 6 foot tall four legged beast that outweighs her by 1265 pounds. Super.Duper.Awesome.Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-28041403371630081332014-11-22T10:26:00.001-06:002014-11-22T10:26:47.550-06:00It's been awhile.....Well, hello there blogosphere, my blogpeeps, and interwebs! It tis I, the LauraBelle, the LB, the one who hath abstainith from Blogland for ENTIRELY too long.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
I know. You missed me.<br />
<br />
But life has taken over. And by life I mean this chubby cheeked sassypants:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She was Boo from Monster's Inc for Halloween. Twinkies!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Already taking our own selfies. Lord help me.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First 'big girl' pony tail. </td></tr>
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Ya. I did good on making her. I know. lol. Dillyn is truly the best thing I've ever done. And she's such a good baby!!! I lucked out. Seriously. But I know the 'next one' will probably be a holy terror. There's no way in Hell that I have a good dog and a good baby and will luck out with another good child. Life just isn't that sweet. It actually sucks donkey balls most of the time. So, ya, I'm not looking forward to that shenanigans. **Let me be clear....I'm not pregnant. Nor will be getting pregnant for awhile.....<i>Mother</i>**<br />
<br />
In other news......I've pretty much been doing the normal, day to day crap. Like work. Which blows. But what can you do.<br />
<br />
Oh, and I've eaten cupcakes every fucking day for like a year. And then there was pizza. And burritos.<br />
And assloads of soda. And another cupcake or 12.<br />
Just fucking shoot me.<br />
<br />
I can't stop! Seriously! I just have no willpower to stop putting junk in my piehole. Yummm, pie. Damn it. No! Ok, it's really out of control. I haven't gained a whole lot of weight really, I'm hanging steady at about 163ish, depending on how the flat chested bitch from Sca(Hell)ville decides to react. [Did ya get that?!?! I put hell in scale! I'm a genius. Don't hate.]<br />
<br />
I just feel horrible. Just horrible. It didn't help that I changed depression meds and they pretty much made me go cray cray. Well, not purple-straight-jacket-crazy, but definitely pretty sadpants looneytoons.<br />
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<br />
It was the worst. I wanted to eat my feelings away, drown myself in Mt. Dew, and crawl under the bed and not come out unless someone gave me a (you guessed it) cupcake. BUT! Luckily I realized what was going on and went to a nurse practitioner at my therapists office and she put me back on zoloft, but just upped the dosage. I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!!!!<br />
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<br />
<br />
It really is. Magical. Really.<br />
<br />
And it's only been a week!<br />
<br />
I've already started eating better. Granted it's only been a few days, but I haven't so much as sniffed a snackcake. Dolphin claps for me! Bonus is I signed up for a trainer at our local Y and she's the bomb.com. I went in with my friend Tamra and another girl that we met, who's just as badass as we are, and we go once a week. I want to start going to the gym at least 3 times a week. Or at least working out 3 times a week, whether that's at home or the gym. Starting next week.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Damn skippy!<br />
<br />
I mean, Dillyn is 15 months old. 15 MONTHS! And I haven't done shit but eat my way thru a Little Debbie factory.<br />
<br />
What's ironic is I only feed Dillyn whole, organic, clean food. Rarely does she get anything that's processed. And the only time she's had sugar or chocolate was on her birthday. I know, right!!! If I can do that for her, why the Hell can't I do it for myself! And for Ryan!<br />
<br />
So in true LauraBelle fashion, I'm starting over. Again. It's not about how many times you fall down, right? It's about getting back up again and slamming my fist into Mr. Unhealthy Habit's crotch. I want my daughter to grow up with healthy habits, and she's going to lead by example......so it's time to shape up or ship out. BOOOOYAAAAAHHHHH.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-38590219062553178792014-06-05T15:31:00.000-05:002014-06-05T15:31:49.311-05:00Ten Things ThursdayAnother day of the most unrelated subjects that my cray cray brain can think of. Cause that's the way I roll.<br />
<br />
1. I've been doing a lot of gardening lately. Both in the veggie and flower gardens. The veggie garden is fully in and thriving. Well, actually, part of it isn't <i>thriving</i>. All my (8!) tomato plants and (5!) pepper plants bit the dust. Literally. Those bastards.<br />
<br />
Apparently, the free manure I put in wasn't composted all the way and burned up the roots. I just hate it when shit is too hot.<br />
<br />
But everything else is going berzerk! My squash and zucchini (total 4) plants are HUGE. My (8) cucumber plants are about ready to be led up their trellis (I like to grow mine 'up' at an angle, keeps them off the ground and gives you more room in the garden). The (9) strawberries are doing awesome. I don't know if I'll have berries this year or not. We'll see! And my ocra, onions, carrots, radishes, and MORE are loving life! I've had lettuce and herbs up for a few weeks and I love it!<br />
<br />
However. What I don't love is how pretty I look when I get done tending to my babies.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXudmZUAS_onf6x7e7c6UTAMqhq3PW_U93ULBuUK-TOjftYcM3AR2MxHPJE5D9FdxtjnxCcY-KRA2SXoycKv50bEGypoj3L4wHyOTrPg25MHvKHfDgjv6gtyQU_tpeEC6rZzA2ilhEJGd/s1600/IMG_20140528_194614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXudmZUAS_onf6x7e7c6UTAMqhq3PW_U93ULBuUK-TOjftYcM3AR2MxHPJE5D9FdxtjnxCcY-KRA2SXoycKv50bEGypoj3L4wHyOTrPg25MHvKHfDgjv6gtyQU_tpeEC6rZzA2ilhEJGd/s1600/IMG_20140528_194614.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweatypants</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did leave a little dirt on the ground.</td></tr>
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I'll post pics of the veggies later, but here's a pic of the little pots I put at the end of our driveway:<br />
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Ain't they purty?!<br />
I just love all the rustic and old pots!!! That's all I use. Mostly. I have a few clay pots, but generally most of my pots are old buckets, or pans, or whatever!<br />
<br />
2. I've kept up with my <a href="http://www.beerdogsandhealth.blogspot.com/2014/05/2-days-down28-to-go.html">3 30-day challenges</a>!!!!<br />
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I love it when hotties approve.<br />
<br />
But to be honest, I haven't been perfect.<br />
Shocker.<br />
I know.<br />
<br />
I completely forgot to do them on Friday, Sat. and Sun.<br />
Yes.<br />
Forgot.<br />
<br />
I blame the mommy-brain-from-fuck-you-Forgetfulville. Seriously. Friday, I was on my way home. In the car. Thinking, I HAVE to do my exercises when I get home. I NEED to do them the MINUTE I park my jeep, grab my purse, baby bag, groceries, water bottle, extra sweatshirt that's been in my car for months, mail, and whatever else I can brake my shoulder off carrying, then haul baby and said crap in the house, unload baby from the car seat, put her down with some toys, go back to unloading the crap from my arms, remember I forgot something, run back to the jeep, come back in and baby needs food, put her in the high chair, cut up fruit, throw cheerios in her direction, notice the dog is doing the potty dance at the door, let him out, baby needs her sippy cup, mommy needs a sippy cup.....of BOOZE, change clothes, baby's done eating, put her on the floor, dog wants in because it's hotter than the surface of the sun outside, I finally sit down, and oh wait.......what was I going to do <i>right.when.I.got.home?????? </i><br />
Drown myself in alcohol because that's what mommy's do.<br />
<br />
See how I can forget to buckle my bra and walk out of the house with the girls a-swingin'? Let alone remember to do 40 crunches, 84 squats, and 1000 push-ups<i> right when I get home?</i><br />
<br />
Ya.<br />
So, the rest of the weekend pretty much went the same. I thought about doing my work outs multiple times! Swear! But by the time I got done doing blah, blah, blahbity blah, I had forgotten and already had a beer in my hand.<br />
<br />
Ryan finally said something Tuesday to the effect of, "Ummmmm are you still doing your challenges????"<br />
<br />
FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK.<br />
<br />
Yes. Yes I am. And then I plopped down and did them right then and there.<br />
<br />
And I've been doing two-a-days since then to catch up.<br />
<br />
My abs feel amazing btw. And so does my ass.<br />
I love two-a-days.<br />
<br />
Basically I'm on day 8. Which I'll do tonight. (Already did day 7 this morning). And then I should be generally caught up.<br />
<br />
3. Someone woke up from a nap with some serious bed-head the other day.<br />
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<br />
She wasn't too happy with me for sitting her up to take an embarrassing picture of her rats nest.<br />
<br />
So I laid her back down.<br />
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Much better.<br />
And her hair looked even more fantastic.<br />
<br />
4. I was running late-ish this morning and didn't have time to pack my lunch.<br />
I was really wanting taco shop.<br />
Which is basically a gut-bomb fast food mexican place that is irresistible.<br />
<br />
I opted instead for a salad from the grocery store. With lite dressing. And I only ate half. (Because they fool you with what looks like a 'small' container, but after you fill it up with all your veggies, it weighs about the same as a baby elephant. Tricky Tricky.)<br />
<br />
#winningatlife.<br />
<br />
5. I have had cold sores on my face for 3 months now. 3 FUCKING MONTHS.<br />
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<br />
I'm tired of this shit.<br />
<br />
They may not look too bad in the photo, but they are. They basically look like 6 bright red clown noses attached to my face.<br />
<br />
It's bullshit I tell you.<br />
<br />
I've tried everything from pills, to creams, to essential oils (lavender and thieves), to taking extra vitamins to boost my immune system, EVERYTHING! Nothing is working.<br />
Which reminds me, my damn doctor was supposed to get me referral info for a dermatologist 3 days ago.<br />
bitches.<br />
<br />
Well, just made an appt at the derm. Guess I'm going to have this shit on my face for the next 4 weeks, because the soonest they could get me in is JULY.<br />
bitches.<br />
<br />
6. I'm going on an adult, girls only, trip/concert tomorrow!!!! WHAT?!?! No baby. No husband. I don't even know how to react to this. Just me and my buddy, Emily. We're hitting the road and going up to Manhappiness to see her favorite band <a href="http://www.thewailinjennys.com/">The Wailin' Jenny's</a>.<br />
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<br />
I haven't really listened to them much. But I've been <a href="https://play.spotify.com/artist/331QVEZKK1yz5KhYiR2pBj">spotify-ing</a> the crap out of them this afternoon and I'm diggin' them!!!!<br />
<br />
However, they're playing outdoors at the city park. Which is cool and all..............except you can't drink or buy booze.<br />
Oh the horror.<br />
<br />
So, I'm pretty sure this is going to happen.<br />
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<br />
7. I love summer and the beautiful sunsets!<br />
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<br />
We sat outside last Friday night and it was gorgeous!<br />
Someone really enjoyed it.<br />
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<br />
<br />
8. UPDATES ON MY HOMEMADE CRAP.<br />
<br />
Remember how I made my homemade laundry and dish washer soap (<a href="http://www.beerdogsandhealth.blogspot.com/2014/05/ten-things-thursday.html">LINK</a>, #9)????<br />
Ya.<br />
Well, the laundry soap is still working out pretty good. I mean, it gets the clothes clean, but if there's any really caked on mud or stains I've still gotta use OxiClean spray before I wash it.<br />
<br />
The dish washer soap on the other hand is a big fail. *sadface*<br />
It worked for the first few washes, but now the dishes aren't so Mr. Clean Clean.<br />
<br />
BUT! I did make my own chocolate syrup!!!! And it ROCKS!<br />
<h2 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 3rem; line-height: 1.2; margin: 0px 0px 1.6rem;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #ff9900;">Homemade Chocolate Syrup</span></h2>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #4d4d4d; font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 29.25px; margin-bottom: 2.6rem; padding: 0px;">
at <a href="http://glorioustreats.blogspot.com/2012/01/homemade-chocolate-syrup-recipe.html" style="-webkit-transition: all 0.1s ease-in-out; box-sizing: border-box; color: #949e4a; text-decoration: none; transition: all 0.1s ease-in-out;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">GloriousTreats.blogspot.com</span></a></div>
<ul style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #4d4d4d; font-family: Lora, serif; line-height: 29.25px; margin: 0px 0px 2.6rem 4rem; padding: 0px;">
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 18px; list-style-type: disc;">1 1/2 cups sugar</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; list-style-type: disc;"><span style="font-size: medium;">3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder </span>(I used Hershey's)</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 18px; list-style-type: disc;">1 cup water</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 18px; list-style-type: disc;">dash of salt</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 18px; list-style-type: disc;">1 teaspoon vanilla</li>
</ul>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #4d4d4d; font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 29.25px; margin-bottom: 2.6rem; padding: 0px;">
In a small saucepan, add sugar, cocoa, and salt. Whisk together gently. Add water. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring occasionally. Reduce heat and <a class="itxtnewhook itxthook" href="http://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/2012/03/homemade-chocolate-syrup.html#" id="itxthook2" rel="nofollow" style="-webkit-transition: all 0.1s ease-in-out; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; border: 0px none transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #949e4a; cursor: pointer; display: inline; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; transition: all 0.1s ease-in-out;"><span class="itxtrst itxtrstspan itxtnowrap" id="itxthook2p" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; bottom: auto; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline !important; float: none !important; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; height: auto; left: auto; line-height: normal; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; position: static; right: auto; top: auto; white-space: nowrap !important;"><span class="itxtrst itxtrstspan itxtnowrap itxtnewhookspan" id="itxthook2w" style="background-color: transparent; border-color: transparent transparent rgb(0, 204, 0); border-style: none none solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; bottom: auto; box-sizing: border-box; color: #009900; display: inline; float: none; font-family: inherit; height: auto; left: auto; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px 0px 1px !important; position: static; right: auto; text-decoration: underline !important; top: auto; white-space: normal;">cook</span><img class="itxtrst itxtrstimg itxthookicon" id="itxthook2icon" src="http://images.intellitxt.com/ast/adTypes/icon1.png" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px !important; bottom: auto; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline !important; float: none !important; height: auto !important; left: auto; margin: 0px !important; max-height: none; max-width: none !important; padding: 0px 0px 0px 4px !important; position: static; right: auto; top: auto; vertical-align: baseline !important; white-space: normal; width: auto !important;" /></span></a> 1 minute. Remove from heat and add vanilla. Cool. Store in the refrigerator.</div>
<span style="background-color: white;">It's a little more runny than the store bought stuff, but tastes EXACTLY the same. I ended up just putting it in an old Hershey's bottle, so it works perfect!</span><br />
<br />
Seriously. Never buy that store crap again. This stuff is amazeballs!<br />
<br />
9. BTW<br />
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<br />
Just in case you were wondering.<br />
<br />
10. HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYONE!<br />
<br />
CHEERS!Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-64314889497248420242014-05-29T15:17:00.001-05:002014-05-29T15:17:32.085-05:002 days down......28 to go.I've made it a whole 2 days on my 30 Day Challenges!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
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<br />
And as a bonus, I'm actually doing THREE 30 day challenges! Because if my ass, thighs, and arms are going to be hella sore, why not have my abs be unbearable too?<br />
Logical.<br />
<br />
So the 3 I'm doing are:<br />
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<br />
Annnnndddddddd......<br />
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<br />
It's actually really doable, I think. I mean, if I'm going to be doing something, I might as well add the abs too. Best part about these challenges is I don't feel like I'm working out. I mean, I don't feel the need to go to the gym, or carve out 47,000 seconds to get a work out in. I just plop down and do them whenever and where ever! And it's different every day!<br />
Me likey likey new things every day.<br />
<br />
Another win for me? I passed up a sweettarts basket. Not that I would have taken the entire basket.....well, maybe I would have.........but I could have taken one or two and been ok with it, but I just opted not to.<br />
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Go me times 2!<br />
<br />
I've decided that it's not about what I want to look like, or about looking like actress so-and-so on TV, or exercising so much a week. It's about how you <i>FEEL</i>.<br />
<br />
I feel like crap. The last two days of being active and eating fairly decent have made me feel all giddypants excited! Am I 100% perfect? Hell to the no. Do I want to be 100% perfect? Fo'Shizzle NO. Why set those standards for yourself, especially when (for me) I'm just never going to live up to them?<br />
<br />
I also like the fact that since I can do this anywhere and everywhere, that there's really no excuse to <i>not</i> do it. If I <i>had</i> to go to the gym, you know i'd find an reason not to go. I signed Dillyn up for another round of swim lessons for the next four weeks, so at least 1 night a week I'll have to be at the gym, so I will probably get my ass on the conveyor belt of death. That's enough for me. For now.<br />
<br />
No more pushing myself to do this or do that. Or looking in the mirror and hating myself because I couldn't muster the energy to even put my big toe in tennis shoes and *god forbid* get in the car and drive 5 miles. That's the worst; the utter guilt I feel when I don't do something I planned on doing. It just makes me not want to do it more. Or makes me not want to set any goals, so when I break them, I won't feel like a loser. This way, I'm just playing it by ear, no real plan, no real agenda. If I eat good......good. If I make it to the gym once a week......good. If not, oh well. I'll make it up in the yard, or endless cleaning that comes with being a mom, or maybe even not at all.<b> I'm OK with all of it!</b><br />
<br />
I also haven't even weighed myself.<br />
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Ya.<br />
And I don't plan on stepping on that flat chested bitch for awhile.<br />
Who gives donkey turds what that number is?<br />
Its about how you <b><i>feel!!!</i></b><br />
<br />
I'm going to go home tonight, do Day 3 of all challenges, cook some chicken and play with my baby.<br />
<br />
That's how I roll.<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-67178171839147297112014-05-28T11:42:00.000-05:002014-05-28T11:42:39.832-05:00Memorial Day 2014Since I'm in a good ol' writing mood, I thought I would recap my Memorial Weekend.......for your pure enjoyment, of course.<br />
<br />
Do you know how difficult it is to pack for a itty bitty 9 month old for 4 days, in a place that has no laundry, no Wal-Mart, and a grocery store that doesn't even carry Miralax?????<br />
<br />
It's about as difficult as my T-Rex ass fitting into a size Barbie bikini bottoms and looking good.<br />
<br />
But if anyone is up to the challenge, it's this girl!!!<br />
<br />
Off we went, with as much stuff rolled, wadded, crunched, and shoved into every little compartment in the Jeep as I could muster. I mean, we had a high chair, blankets, toys (oh sweet baby Jesus, the toys), towels, food, water, formula, bottles, sippy cups, zanax.....oh wait, that was for me......., prune juice, pear juice, floaties, books, chairs, clothes, clothes, and more clothes. Oh, and the dog. That does not include Ryan and I's stuff. Ya. It's amazing.<br />
<br />
I mean, packing for a little 2 day trip to Topeka is one thing. It's a lot of shit, don't get me wrong. But when you're in backwoods Missouri, where the closest WallyWorld is over 30 minutes away, you gotta re-think your packing strategies. Just in case you might need, oh, I don't know.....effing Miralax, because your child won't poop on the 3 ounces of prune juice you give her a day. Hell, I'd be pooping all day on 3 ounces of prune juice!<br />
<br />
Good news is I found some. And not 30 minutes away. Thank the poop Gods.<br />
<br />
Moving on.<br />
<br />
After cramming every nook and cranny with baby crap (not literally), we made it down to Table Rock fairly quickly. Actually, a lot more quickly than I thought it'd take us. Especially since we had to stop about every hour because little girl would poop out a pea-sized turd and think her life was over. (Granted, for her it is traumatic when she poops, poor thing.)<br />
<br />
But anyways, we made it down, and prepared for a relaxing weekend! I wasn't sure it was going to be relaxing with a 9 month old, but cheers to hoping! (Yes, I did write 'cheers' instead of here's. lol)<br />
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First morning there:<br />
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And actually it was a lot of fun. And relaxing! Dillyn did AMAZING!<br />
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Although she wasn't too impressed with her life jacket.....or the boat ride:<br />
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She's going to love that picture when she's older. LOL!<br />
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Puppy got to play fetch a lot:<br />
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He looks like a stealth jumping dog there, but in actuality, he sucked it up most of the time. He'd get right on the edge of the rock and then sorta 'flop' in and then start swimming. Weirdo.<br />
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We spent a lot of time on the boat and dock:<br />
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I even did some paddle boarding!!<br />
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That shit is HARD!!! Holy leg cramps. But it was soooo much fun! My aunt and cousin rented it for a day, and it looks like they're going to purchase one, one day! I hope so! It was such a fun work out!<br />
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We did have a pretty scary storm while down at the dock. It was sprinkling and looked like it'd just blow over, but being that it's Missouri, and the weather there is like a PMSing chick on speed, it ended up turning into a damn hurricane. Dillyn was asleep on the front of the boat, which is in the middle of the covered dock (pretty safe from any elements). But we could just see this white wall of rain heading our way. She started to get a little wet, so Ryan moved her under the passenger seat and dash. And it was just in time because the wind switched and was blowing rain in from the back of the boat. I had to cover her, and Ryan was covering me. And of course Puppy had to be the good big brother:<br />
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He probably just wanted out of the rain, same as us, but I'm going with big protective brother!<br />
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BTW, baby didn't wake up once! lol<br />
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Since it was too cold to get in the lake, the Grandparents got Dillyn a baby pool and we put it on the deck with some warm water. And since I *forgot* to pack water toys, she had to make do with tupperware lids. I don't think she cared!<br />
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Most evenings we relaxed on the deck and baby took a nap:<br />
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That kid can sleep anywhere! And I love it!<br />
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And finally, my cousin took this one of D:<br />
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You just fall head over heels for those blue eyes!!!<br />
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First Lake Weekend with a baby was a success! And I'm so excited that she'll grow up there, learn to swim, ski, wakeboard, tube, <i><b>everything</b></i> there! She would be the 4th generation to enjoy this cabin, and we're so lucky Ryan's Grandparents purchased it many moons ago!!!Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-14447140253743734982014-05-27T14:15:00.001-05:002014-05-27T14:15:27.369-05:00Another Day, Another Attempt At Getting HealthierI miss writing. I don't get to it often enough. And that sucks donkey balls.<br />
<br />
I had an aunt & uncle last weekend just praise my blog and writing style, and I was like, 'Huh, I really need to get back into it.' (Thanks Jeannie & Larry, by the way!!!)<br />
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So, lets see. What's been going on with me? Well, I went to the lake last weekend and decided to change my name to Fatricia McFatterson. Yup. And the title of this blog may be changed to Beer, Dogs, More Beer, Baby, and My Ass Is The Size Of Canada.<br />
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The End.<br />
<br />
Ok, not really.<br />
<br />
I do need to get my ass in shape.......again. I've been doing a lot of thinking about body image and getting in shape, or being in shape. And I'll tell ya, I've always wanted to get in shape for selfish reasons. I wanted to look pretty. I wanted to be noticed for a pretty, slim face, or a nice ass, or a trim waist. I could have given two small rabbit turds if getting healthier made me live longer, or feel better (on the outside or inside), or whatever.<br />
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And still, right now, I want to lose weight to <i>look</i> better. But there's another reason I've been thinking about getting healthier (again)......for my daughter.<br />
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I keep thinking that all I want her to eat is good, nutritious, organic, healthy meals. I make all her food, and if I have to buy it, I make sure it's as clean and organic as possible. She RARELY gets anything that's not organic or is processed. And I'm not doing that to 'slim' her down for shit's sake. I'm doing it because I want her to have healthy eating habits when she's older! So, why can't I treat myself the same!? Riddle me that shit.<br />
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The other issue is body image. Do I really want her to grow up and have the mind set that I and so many other women do???? That we're all supposed to look like those skinnyass tooth picks in the magazines????Fuck no. I'm a decent sized 8/10, 160lb, 5'8" woman, that happens to have a slightly large badonkadonk, batwings straight from Hell, and thunder thighs that could scare a small child if it got close enough. Seriously, I resemble a T-Rex with little hands and a giant lower half. Screw 'pear shaped'.....it should be called mammoth T-Rex shaped. Or maybe I should say I'm from the Tribe of My-T-Rex-Ass-Blocked-Out-The-Sun-And-Killed-All-The-Dinosaurs.<br />
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OK, moving on.<br />
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Basically, I'm not super unhealthy. However, I would say I'm average. I eat semi-decent (most of the time), and I work my ass off being a mom (which sometimes requires me to stand for 22.mybackhateslife hours), I garden (which requires bending, hauling, shoveling, etc), and I spend about 80% of my work day running around 4 buildings at the speed of a chocoholic cheetah who smells Double Stuffed Oreos in the break-room. To say I'm a loafing ass that is obese is not true. Even to say that I'm a loafing ass that is overweight is untrue. But what is true is that I am a averagely healthy normal weight woman. But I could use improvement.<br />
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I <i>KNOW</i> I am much more active than I used to be. I also <i>KNOW</i> I eat better than I used to. Am I completely fit and healthy????? Pffffftttttt....please. Hell to the no! I don't know if I'll ever make it to <i>completely</i> fit and healthy. I just wasn't raised that way. I wasn't raised to worry about my health. The only exercising my family did (and for the most part, still does) is 12 ounce curls 5 days a week. We ate boxed dinners, veggies came out of a can most times, and sugar loaded cereals were a staple for breakfast....lunch....or even dinner sometimes. I also use food to cope with stress, and while I know it's bad, and I <b>want</b> to change, that's something I'll probably deal with my whole life.<br />
<br />
I'll always have ups and downs with my eating habits. And I'll always have ups and downs with exercise because it's not something that has EVER been a priority in my life until the last 7 years. And it's still not that high on my priority list. I mean, I think it should be, don't get me wrong. But when my daughter spends 8-9 hours a day at daycare, and then I come home to haul her off to the YMCA daycare for another hour, by the time we get home it's dinnertime and bedtime in an hour. I can't stand only spending a few hours a day with her. I can't STAND IT! So, if I have the choice of snuggling with her or the gym.....yup, it's going to be her. Every.Time. And I'm sure that will change in a few years when she gets to the point of not wanting mommy around <i>all </i>the time. But until then, I'm going to squeeze her every chance I get.<br />
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OK, so what am I saying here, huh?<br />
<br />
I'm saying that I realize I'm not 100% healthy. I'm saying that I realize I'm averagely healthy, but I need improvements. But those improvements aren't going to consume my life. They're not going to be a higher priority over time with my daughter. I do want to get healthier, not because of looks or to fit some dumb image, but to prove to my daughter that you can be <i>slightly</i> better than averagely healthy and live a good life. I want to prove to her that being slightly better than averagely healthy is fun, doable, and not a chore (which is what I think it is....for now). But am I going to bust my ass to make it to the gym X times per a week???? Ummmm, no. Am I going to degrade myself for having a chocolate chip cookie after dinner....even if it's after every dinner for the rest of my life???? Nope. I'm truly going to take it one day at a time.<br />
<br />
Today is a new day. I had a decent breakfast and a salad for lunch. Dillyn has swim lessons at 6pm, so I have to be at the Y anyway, I might as well work out, right? Right. I brought my work out clothes and my swim suit. I'm going to pick her up, then take her to the Y daycare, work out for an hour or so, then do lessons with her. I plan on starting my <a href="http://www.fitsugar.com/30-Day-Push-Up-Challenge-30974208">push-up</a> and <a href="http://www.fitsugar.com/30-Day-Squat-Challenge-30806625">squat</a> challenge today at the Y too. Day 1 is going to be a good one.<br />
<br />
As for tomorrow, I have no idea. I know I need to get in the garden and weed. So that's got to get done. No time for gym. I also know I have lettuce coming up and there's no reason not to eat it all this week (and it tastes so freaking amazing that I can't help but want it every day this week!)<br />
<br />
I know I need to have goals. I know I need some sort of plan. But for now, it's one day at a time. My major exercise goal is going to be to stick with these <a href="http://beerdogsandhealth.blogspot.com/2014/05/ten-things-thursday.html">two 30 day challenges</a>. And my food goal is to not buy a bag of oreos for breakfast for the next 30 days (and hopefully, forever). I'll re-evaluate everything after the 4th of July.<br />
<br />
Easy Peezy Lemon Squeezy.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Every time I write that, I just want a Summer Beer.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">GAhhhhhhhh.</span><br />
<br />
So here I go. Attempt #4971 of getting healthier.<br />
<br />Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718196829718123475.post-38669207532247144152014-05-08T10:45:00.001-05:002014-05-08T10:45:28.450-05:00Ten Things ThursdayI'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacccckkkkk.<br />
<br />
Get Excited.<br />
<br />
1. This morning, baby woke up at 4am. Went to sleep at 5am. And then my alarm went off at 5:30am. Glorious start to the day.<br />
<br />
THEN, I get to work, and Ryan called and said we needed to check our bank account. So I logged on and I think I had a mini heart attack. We were NEGATIVE $10,000+! Yes, that's right......<b><u>TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS</u></b>.<br />
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<i><br />
</i> At first, I thought I had a major mommy brain fart and waaaaaayyyyyyy overpaid on our morgage. For some strange-ass-psycho-I-need-to-be-locked-up reason. But then I noticed it was a check, and it cleared on our account for 10,329.IthinkI'mhavingastroke dollars. I downloaded the check and it turns out that it was SOMEONE ELSE'S ACCOUNT! Someone wrote a check to Pella Windows, and it got cleared to OUR account, and not theirs.<br />
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<br />
Yes, I was a little shocked.<br />
<br />
I called up the bank right away and got this gentleASSman that said that the two accounts were one digit off and the computer made a mistake reading it. He deposited the money taken out and basically washed his hands of the whole sitch. I asked if they were going to remove the other person's check from our account and he said no. Ummmmm, exsqueeze me????? No. He said that since he deposited the money, everything is good.<br />
<br />
No. Everything is not good douchecanoe.<br />
<br />
Then I asked if he was going to notify the other people that their check was put to our account and he said no. Again........<b style="font-style: italic;">WHAT?!?!?!?!</b> This is how the convo went:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b>Me:</b> <i>You mean to tell me that someone else's check was cleared to our account, for 10 THOUSAND DOLLARS, and you're not going to inform them of this????</i></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Asshat:</b></span><i style="color: red;"> No.</i><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b>Me:</b> </span><i style="color: purple;">You don't think that's an IMPORTANT SECURITY BREACH that they should know about?????</i><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Asshat: </b></span><i style="color: red;">No.</i><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b>Me:</b> </span><i style="color: purple;">Well, if this happened to me I would want to know IMMEDIATELY that my information was given to someone by accident!!!</i><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Asshat:</b> </span><i style="color: red;">Well, it's no different than her just writing you a check. You'd then have her information.</i><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b>Me:</b></span><i style="color: purple;"> UMMMMMM, IT'S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT you Fart Licker!!!!! She didn't write me a check! She wrote Pella Windows a check! And if I wasn't an 'honest' person, I now have her bank account and all her information and could possibly use it to do very bad things! I need to speak with your supervisor!!!</i><br />
<br />
Long story short, the supervisor told me that they will notify the other people, but by letter. I informed her that isn't right and I had the other person's number off their check and would be contacting them myself. I also informed her that we probably won't be banking with you any more....COMMERCE BANK JACKASSES!!!!<br />
<br />
Can you believe that?!?!<br />
<br />
2. As an update to my <a href="http://beerdogsandhealth.blogspot.com/2014/04/cleansing-my-juicesday-1.html">Juice Cleanse</a>, I'd just like y'all to know that I'm at 156.1, so I'm up about (<b>POINT</b>)2 lbs. Dolphin claps for me!!!!<br />
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<br />
I've been eating pretty good. Generally having salads every day. There was one day when I had pizza, and while it was delicious. I stopped at two small slices. And I haven't thought about it since.<br />
<br />
I am eating more chocolate. DAMN YOU CHOCOLATE!!!!! It just can't be helped. I made some pretty good cookies that have been saving my hands from shaking the vending machine to death......<a href="http://www.sixsistersstuff.com/2013/05/skinny-banana-cookies.html">Skinny Banana Cookies</a>. Check it and wreck it peeps. They're delish!<br />
<br />
3. I haven't delved into the exercising crappness yet. But I'm working up to it.<br />
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<br />
Exactly.<br />
<br />
I'm actually thinking about doing a <a href="http://www.fitsugar.com/30-Day-Push-Up-Challenge-30974208">push up challenge</a> and a <a href="http://www.fitsugar.com/30-Day-Squat-Challenge-30806625">squat challenge</a>.<br />
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<br />
I'm convinced that cardio isn't what I need right now, but weights are where it's at! I don't know why, but I just 'feel' it. Maybe what I feel is my batwings flapping in the wind. Who knows.<br />
<br />
Regardless, Anyone want to do them with me???? It's only 30 days. Huh??????<br />
Do ya?<br />
<br />
DO YA?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">DO YA?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span> 4. Sooooooo. I've decided to get into oils. And not grease-me-up-to-slide-down-a-pole oils.<br />
<br />
I'm talking about essential oils silly!!!<br />
<br />
My friend Jess messaged me awhile ago and noticed that I was having some trouble with Dillyn being sick and said that she has been using oils for a little while and hasn't taken her 1 year old to the doctor much since. She also said it's helped her in a number of ways and that I should really give it a shot.<br />
<br />
I was a little skeptic, because 'giving it a shot' meant shelling out $150. And that's kinda a lot of money. But then I found out my cousin was using oils so I picked her brain a little. And by little, I mean A LOT. She gave me a LOAD of info!!! I'll summarize here, but basically she has been using oils for years now. She uses them for everything! She has 3 kids and they rarely go to the DR. And she has a husband that was chronically ill, or had allergies, or something, and after using oils he hasn't been to the doctor but once a year! She is VERY involved in the church and her husband is a pastor (not saying that she tells the truth <i>alllll</i> time, but just to give you a reference of the type of person she is), and the fact that she was family meant I was sold on the idea! And not that I didn't believe my friend!!!! Because I totally did! But I just wanted someone else's opinion, ya know?!<br />
Lord I hope I didn't eff that up. Because it felt like I did. Jeez, I'm a moron.<br />
<br />
Anyways. I went ahead and got a starter kit of oils...........And WOW. Seriously. WOW.<br />
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<br />
#1: Dillyn has been constipated since birth. Poor thing just entered this world backed up. I've tried EVERYTHING! I've given her extra water during the day. I mix her formula in the morning with 1/2 prune juice and 1/2 water. I've kneaded her belly. And at the worst of times, given her a suppository. :( At first I was only giving her 1 ounce of prune juice, now it's 3. And she wasn't constipated every day before, but now it's all the time. I HATE POOP! So, I started diffusing peppermint oil, and massaging peppermint and frankincense oil on her belly and I'm not kidding you, the kid pooped within hours. And has been pretty constant since (it's only been a few days).<br />
<br />
#2: Dillyn is teething. Yes. Joyous times in the Wiksten household. One of the recommendations is to put Thieves on her gums. She was really fussy one evening and I thought, what the hell. I'll try it. So I mixed it with a little coconut oil and massaged her gums. Almost instantly she was smiling and laughing and playing like normal. Yesterday, I forgot to give it to her, and her temp spiked and she's just miserable. But you better believe I gave it to her this morning! After about 10 minutes, she wasn't, lets say 'happy', but she wasn't screaming either. I call that a win.<br />
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#3: I worked my ASS off in the yard last weekend. Seriously, like from 9am-5pm on Sat. I got the garden in, flower beds planted, mulch down, etc. My back was KILLING me from bending over. You know how when you go to stand up and it's almost like your body won't let you? You just stay hunched over like some 104 year old, thinking to yourself, 'Where the hell is my cane?!!?'. And, 'Is it possible to drink a beer hunched over?', enters your mind. Ya, well, that was me. I took a shower and decided to put some Pan-Away (which is a blend of oils) on my lower back. I rubbed it in good, and probably went a little over board. I sat on the couch the rest of the night, went to bed early, and the next day I could literally jump out of bed.......<i>if </i> I did that sort of thing in the mornings. But my back felt great! No pain whatsoever! I even gardened another 4 hours on Sunday!<br />
<br />
#4: I've had this cold sore on the inside of the tip of my nose for months. I've been putting a prescribed ointment on it but it doesn't seem to ever completely go away. I started putting frankincense on it about 3 days ago, and it's almost gone!!!<br />
<br />
I'm not shitting you people, this stuff really works!<br />
<br />
I'm also trying Lemon Oil on my varicose veins right now. I've only been using it a few days, so I'll let you know if I see any improvement in the next few months.<br />
<br />
Anyway, if any one's interested in these high quality, therapeutic oils , please let me know! (Btw, the stuff you get at the natural food store probably isn't high quality or therapeutic, trust me, I thought I got some good stuff and have been using it for a year, but it didn't do shit, just smelled pretty.)<br />
I can give you some info, or tell you where I researched: laurawiksten @ hotmail . com<br />
<br />
5. If you caught on to #3 above, then you know I got the garden......all the way in!!! Woop Woop! OK, here's the breakdown:<br />
~8 Tomato plants (4 Big Boys, 3 Roma, and 1 Cherry)<br />
~5 Pepper plants (Jalapeno, green and yellow bells, chili, and habanero.<br />
~1 Yellow Squash<br />
~1 Zucchini<br />
~9 Strawberries<br />
~*hopefully* 8 Cucumbers<br />
~A 4ft x 4ft area just for carrots.<br />
<br />
I also have 4 different types of lettuce, spinach, bulb onions, green onions, basil, cilantro, rosemary, garlic, chives, chamomile, and okra.<br />
<br />
Yup!!!! The Wiksten's are going to eat<i> gooooood</i> this summer!!!!<br />
<br />
I'm so excited I could pee carrot juice!<br />
<br />
6. How come fingernail polish stays on your toes for decades (even though being shoved into shoes and crap all day), but if you carefully and methodically put polish on your fingernails with the utmost precision, using the best products, and taking care to try and get the longest life possible, it chips in 24 seconds???!!!!! Riddle me that shit!!!!<br />
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7. Dillyn had her 1st swim lessons last night!!! I think I was more excited than she was. Or as Dad was. The class was small with just 4 babies, ranging from 8 months (Dillyn) to 18 months. There was another little girl there that was 9 months and just the cutest thing ever! And she was a little fish!!!<br />
<br />
We practiced 'blowing bubbles', clapping our hands in the water, floating on our back, kicking our legs, and so much more!!! She loved every minute of it! She kept dipping her face in the water and splashing with her hands. It was so cute!<br />
<br />
8. Pulling of the Oil UPDATE: OK, so I've been faithfully pulling oil for some time now, and I gotta tell you, I don't think I'll ever quit. But I can't decide if Ryan thinks it's a blessing that I can't talk for 20 minutes in the morning, or if it's a curse. lol<br />
Two main things that I've noticed are:<br />
<br />
A. I accidentally forgot to bring some when I visited the parentials, so I went two days with no oil. Farts. The next week I got a canker sore. Double farts. Normally, I have to dry out the sore, put some nasty tasting ointment on there, that ends up drying and turning into this freaky white 'skin'. Which eventually falls off, then I choke on it and end up gagging for 20 minutes. It's awesome. <br />
<br />
Anyways, instead of doing that I thought I'd just try concentrating on really getting the oil swished on that spot for a few days and see what happens.<br />
<br />
No bullshit, within 3 days, the sore was gone!!!!!<br />
<br />
B. I again forgot to bring some oil when we went out of town. (I know, there's a pattern here. Just shut up.) And this last few weeks it's felt like I had a cavity in the back of my tooth. Now, I need to go to the dentist anyway, but until I can get in (or remember to actually make an appointment), I've been swishing oil around that area more, and after 2 days, the pain has gone down a TON. I still think I have a cavity and need to get it filled, but at least something is helping!!!<br />
<br />
So, if you haven't started pulling oil, get your ass in gear and start!!!<br />
<br />
9. I made my own dishwasher soap and laundry detergent last weekend.<br />
Yup. I am that person now.<br />
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But it works!!! Seriously!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.diynatural.com/homemade-dishwasher-detergent-soap/">LINK TO RECIPE</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XuIkGZz517bSEQlgnWd2Ctdk8CixqeJFbSshagS5OO2C2f3-IK_5VYPl5X-2jC9QU_t-SjTumCavRbOW94g9JcklMZIdQO28S9axrtV4moTqakGeJ_8Dj_N_r8JPRtQIqXqfVwVQivME/s1600/laundry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XuIkGZz517bSEQlgnWd2Ctdk8CixqeJFbSshagS5OO2C2f3-IK_5VYPl5X-2jC9QU_t-SjTumCavRbOW94g9JcklMZIdQO28S9axrtV4moTqakGeJ_8Dj_N_r8JPRtQIqXqfVwVQivME/s1600/laundry.jpg" height="450" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.lizmarieblog.com/2013/05/diy-laundry-soap-one-year-review-recipe/">LINK TO RECIPE</a></td></tr>
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First off, the Dish Soap works PERFECT! I did put vinegar in the rinse container, so I think that helps keep the dishes shiny. I've only had a few pieces of silverware have film on them, and I just rinse them off and put them in the drawer. It's FAR less than when I was using Finish. I'm tellin' you, I bet I re-washed half the dishes when I was using that soap. I mean, what's the fricking point?!</div>
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The Laundry Soap is also good, but I wouldn't say it's amazing. It gets our clothes clean, and they smell clean and fresh. But it doesn't get out baby puke stains.....which is pretty much the entire load of laundry. But to solve this, I've just used OxiClean spray. I put it on the stains the minute I take off D's clothes, then throw it in the hamper. By the time we wash everything, it's soaked and and comes out perfect. </div>
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BIG BONUS to both of these: They are a TON cheaper than the stuff at the store! And they last forever!</div>
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Who's the crazy one now, huh?!?!? </div>
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Ya, not this chick!</div>
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10. It's almost the weekend!!!!!</div>
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<a href="http://photobucket.com/images/animated%20gifs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="animated gifs photo: TGIF unnamed-1.gif" border="0" src="http://i1276.photobucket.com/albums/y462/staffpicks/Animated_GIFs/unnamed-1.gif" height="400" width="372" /></a></div>
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CHEERS!</div>
Laura Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10312210955440443865noreply@blogger.com1