Speaking the Truth

Before you continue reading this, there are two facts you should be aware of:

• First, I started, and continue, to write this blog because it expresses my feelings at the moment. It's another way for me to get everything off my chest so I don't talk the ear off my family and friends about the same things a hundred times. I have feelings. I like to write. This works for me.
• Second, this blog isn't meant to "call anyone out". It's how I feel about people in general. It's what I believe and what's on my mind right now.

So, with that said, if you are easily offended or if you don't want to hear my opinions, stop reading now. This blog is what I believe to be true. Plain and simple.

There are two quotes that I live my life by. To me they explain everything. And I fully believe them to be true based on my past experiences. The first is, "Everything happens for a reason". And the second is, "People don't change". The latter of the two is what is really "bothering" me lately.

I firmly believe, and have seen my whole life, the fact that people don't change. If you're an addict, you are always an addict. If you are a cheater, you are always a cheater. If you're a selfish person, you are always going to be selfish. I have seen these personalities all my life and the story is always the same....

My father is an addict. He's been one for his whole life. It runs in his family. He started drinking at a young age. I remember him smashing his fist into walls in drunken rages went I was little. I remember seeing the empty beer cans hidden downstairs as a teenager when he was supposed to be sober. I remember having my husband search for him at all hours of the night because he was drunk and driving and no one knew where he was. He had an accident at work and started using painkillers. Always blaming the accident, he somehow found a doctor who would prescribe him meds whenever he wanted. There was never confirmed proof of it by my eyes, but I know he took to street drugs as well. He let one addiction become another and finally became someone who I no longer knew and someone who my children have no idea of. He let his addiction win. That's not why I don't talk to him... He's hurt me in ways that I'm not ready to forgive yet. And honestly, he makes me uncomfortable.

He's supposedly sober now. But I feel that even if he's sober, he still is and always will be an addict. It's part of who he is. It's part of his personality. 

Now I am not saying that people who are addicts can't change their ways. It is possible to become fully sober. You can be a recovering alcoholic or drug addict or whatever. But, you will always be an addict. That temptation is always there. It's always going to be a part of you. And often, there is always a replacement for addiction. Maybe it's food or lotto tickets or cigarettes. But, either way, it's an addiction. Something to drown your troubles in and take the edge off. Just because you are a reformed whatever doesn't mean that you have changed. You are still that addict.

The same goes for people who are selfish. Just because you have a baby or get married or get out of high school doesn't mean that you are going to stop being selfish. You will always be selfish. Same goes for people who are cheaters. They just cheat in different ways. Or they sink back into the starting of their old habits and pull themselves out of it before it gets too far. And liars will always be liars. It's a coping mechanism. Even if it's a white lie, it's still a lie. And those people who are shitty parents/siblings/relatives/brothers/sisters/ect, will always be shitty parents. Just because you post an, "I'm so proud of my daughter" picture or "Keep this picture going if you love your father with all your heart" on Facebook doesn't mean that we are fooled. There are people out there who know the real you and who know what you do off of social media. You are still a shitty person despite the fact that posted a beautiful, touching quote or picture. 

Plain and simple, people don't change. Your personality is still there. No one can change that no matter how hard they try. It's the reason why relationships based on, "Oh, he'll change once we get engaged," or "She'll be different once we have a baby," or "He just needs to get settled into his job and then he will be different" don't work. They are who they are and you need to accept them for their faults or get out. 

Now, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, I honestly feel like I know exactly what I want out of life and who I want to tolerate in my life. I have no use for high school drama that some people thrive on their entire lives. I have no want to play nice with people on social media (that is why my friends list is so short...I don't want to be friends on Facebook if we haven't talked in ten years or if we have "bad blood" between us). I love my family more than life itself. I would do anything for my children. I want to be a teacher someday. I want to have a career and be okay with my financial situation. I want to get over my stupid fear of driving so I can be an adult and be there for my kids. These are all goals that I work on each and every day. These are all things that I try live my life by.

Knowing what I want, and who I want, in life makes it unbelievably hard to "play nice". I have gotten to the point that I no longer want to be the "nice, goody-two-shoes". I don't want to be a doormat anymore. I'm not saying that I let people walk all over me, but I also let people take advantage of my niceness. And I honestly see no point in being a good person to those who treat me like crap. I just want to tell everyone how I feel and then be like, "To hell with you,". I can't be around people who bring me down or people who are self-absorbed or people who take advantage of the fact that I will do anything for them. I am literally sick of it. It's frustrating.

But, here's the thing. People don't change. I believe that about myself as well. I'm not just going to turn into a raging bitch who cuts everyone out of her life. I'm too nice. I will always be the girl who gives someone her last penny. I will always be the person who plays nice. I will always be the person to offer advice even if the person I'm giving advice to never, ever takes it. It's who I am. I have been this way since I was a little girl and I will continue to be this way until I am a ninety year old woman. But, this doesn't mean that I am always nice or always will be. I can call people out and tell them where to go every once in a while. But, deep down I am who I am. I am the "nice" girl.

And even though I have accepted the fact that people don't change and I don't change, it still bothers me so much. It makes me so sad and frustrated to see those I love not reciprocating in the same way. It feels like no matter how nice I am or how hard I try, there are certain people who will never return the favor. They will forever take advantage. They will always be selfish. They will always think that they are right and I am not. It's disheartening. I wish things were different. I wish I could just tell them off and then they would change and be equal in the relationship.

But none of that is going to happen. I can talk my head off time and time again (and I have) and nothing will change. Because people don't change.

Lately I Feel Crafty...

*Just want to make a small note before I do my thing! Any products or stores mentioned in this post are just stores and products I like. They have in no way paid me to write this post, nor asked that I do so. Also, this page is just what I did and any pictures or anything that I show or write is my own work. I did not copyright anyone and any coincidences are just that; coincidental.*

Ok, now that I have my bases covered, let's get started!

Lately I have a small problem... I CANNOT STOP pinning pins from Pinterest (http://www.pinterest.com/)! I must have created about three boards in the past few days and pinned about a thousand pins. I have sent pins. I have looked at pins. I have shared pins on Facebook. It's just bananas! Seriously... I went on a pinning spree! If you don't have Pinterest, go sign up! And if you do, then you understand my addiction.

Well, like my book blog that I posted a while ago, I decided to turn my obsession into something positive. I am going to share my craftiness with you lovely people (if anyone reads this blog) and possibly create a pin of my very own on Pinterest! I hope you enjoy it and maybe find some inspiration!

This upcoming week is Teacher Appreciation Week at my daughter's school. The school is throwing a bunch of little events for the teachers, assistants, staff, ect... all week long. I volunteered to bake some yummy chocolate chip cookies for the staff room and they are also hosting a teacher's breakfast on Monday. But, I like to show Amelia's favorite teachers a little extra love. So, I let her pick the teachers that she wanted to give small gifts to and then we made some homemade cards. I love crafting so we got creative and used stickers, construction paper, pom-poms, and sequins to create personalized cards. My daughter did most of it herself and wrote some of the things she liked about each teacher on their card. We got $15 gift cards to Target and then placed each gift card and homemade card in cute gift bag and Voila!, we had a cute, inexpensive gift. But, I wanted to take it one step further for the teacher who is there for her throughout the day; her kindergarten teacher.

I went on Pinterest to gather a few ideas and saw a pin about getting a reusable cup, filling it with tea packets and making a sign that says, "You are a "tea"rific teacher!". I thought that was adorable and as it so happens, I had a cute mason jar at home that doubled as a cup with a straw. Perfect! I decided to get to work...

For this project, my supply list included:

1 mason jar cup (I obtained mine in a four pack from Zulily, which is another GREAT website btw)
Crystal Light "On the Go" drink packets (I got a great deal at Target... Buy three boxes, get one free and each box contained 10 packets)

• I used Natural Pink Lemonade, Peach Mango Green Tea, Natural Lemon Iced Tea, and Raspberry Lemonade

1 Target gift card (mine was $15...just a little something extra)

1 piece of heavy-duty scrapbooking paper (Which can be obtained at any craft store, such as A.C. Moore or JoAnn Fabrics, in packs or as single sheets of paper)

1 set of alphabet letter stickers (Which can also be purchased at any craft store)

1 pair of scissors

A length of string in any color (I used white...just what I had lying around the house)

1 hole punch (if available)

Scotch tape or glue (depending on preference)

I set up all my supplies on the dining room table and got to work.... Please just use caution when attempting this craft. We are using scissors and hole punches so be careful!

1. First, I got my heavy duty scrapbooking paper (I chose green) and started applying my alphabet letters (silver because I thought it would stand out nicely on the green). I started at the top left hand corner as close to the edge as I could so I wouldn't have to make as many cuts later on. Plus, it would give me straighter edges.
2. I placed "You are a" on the top line and then switched to the second line. This is all a matter of preference. I had a small mason jar and didn't want the sign to be too large, so I put only a few words on each line. Just be creative and think about how you want the final product to come out.
3. Next came the play on words... the "tea"-rific part (instead of terrific). Since the Crystal Light packages came with cute little tea leaf pictures on the box that said "tea" I figured that would be cute to put on the sign. I opened up one of my Crystal Light boxes, emptied out the tea packets and grabbed my scissors. I cut just the "tea" part out.
4. To place the "tea" on the sign, I just used some scotch tape. I cut off a small piece from the roll of tape and taped the "tea" on the second line of the sign. Now, you can use glue so you don't see the tape, but that is up to you. I thought that using scotch tape would be one, fairly transparent, and two, it wouldn't need to dry like the glue would.
5. Once the word was placed, I continued with my alphabet stickers. I placed the "rific" part next to the "tea" and started on a third line. The only thing I had left was teacher. Now I had a completed sign that read, "You are a tearific teacher".
6. Finished with that part of the gift, I cut around the wording with my scissors until I had the size sign I wanted. Again, think about your final project and cut accordingly.
7. Now, here is the part where you use the hole punch. I actually didn't have one so I improvised. If you have a hole punch, I would punch one single hole in the middle of the sign on the very top. If you don't have a hole punch, you can improvise like me. I took my scissors, opened them all the way up, and placed one blade, point side down, where I wanted the hole. Then I turned the scissors in a circle until I saw that I had a decent sized hole.
8. Once your hole is punched, or made, use the scissors to cut the length of string you want. I took the string and measured against the rim of the mason jar to judge how far I wanted the sign to hang down. Again, this part depends on how large of a jar or glass you are using. It's up to you!
9. After the string is cut, thread one end of the string through the hole you made. Keep threading through the hole until you have an even length of string on both sides of the sign. Put the sign aside. It should look something like this:
   
10. Open up all your Crystal Light packages and decide how much tea your cup or mason jar can hold. Again, this part is up to you. I chose four of each kind just to give variety.
11. Then take your scissors and cut out the directions from the side of the Crystal Light package. This way, whoever you are giving the gift to knows how to use what you are giving them! : ) Another idea is to cut out the nutrition facts. 
12. Once you selected your teas and cut out the directions for the tea, open up your mason jar and start adding whatever you want to include in the gift. 
13. I first added the Target gift card since it was kind of "bulky". Then I placed the directions in the jar and added all my teas. 
14. Before you close the mason jar, grab your sign and loop the string around the top of the jar. Double knot the ends together so it hangs the way you want it to on the jar.
15. Place the lid on the jar and seal tight.
16. Now you have a beautiful gift for a teacher! Here's my finished product:

What you do next is up to you! You can leave the gift as is and hand it to the teacher that way. Or you can put it in a nice gift bag wrapped up in tissue paper. That's what I opted for. Since the mason jar is glass, and I have a kindergartener, I thought the bag would be a safer option!

The great part about this gift is that it doesn't have to be just for teachers! It can be for friends, family members, co-workers, grab-bag gifts! Whatever you want it to be! Just change the "teacher" part and you are all set! You can even write out the word terrific and use the "tea" cutout for the "teacher" part since it begins with the same letters. Instead of iced tea packets, you can use teabags. The possibilities are endless! Be creative!

I hope this gave you some ideas for the future. It's a relatively inexpensive gift that shows that you care And make sure you check out Pinterest! Or tell me to stop... Maybe I need an intervention?!

Babies and Strangers

Ever since I have become pregnant and have had two children I have noticed a very peculiar trend... You could be in the store, you could be working, you could be walking down the street, you could be in a public restroom, you could be attending a conference at your child's school, really no matter where you go, strangers are drawn to you and your pregnant belly or your child like a moth to a lamp. It's the oddest thing. It's like once you become pregnant or once you become a parent, there is no social etiquette for strangers and how they look or what they say to you and your child...

Now, I'm not talking about the random people who come up to you and say, "Aww. How sweet. A newborn. How old are they?". Or those people who tell you, "Wow. Your daughter has such beautiful hair!". Those are welcome comments. It's endearing. I often do it myself. Babies, kids, even preteens sometimes, are just so darn cute that you have to say something. I get that. It's sort of normal.

What I am talking about, and what perpetuated this blog/rant, is this type of stranger...

Last week I was grocery shopping with my husband, my daughter, and my son. My son, who is going to be seven months, had a wet diaper and didn't particularly like it. So I grabbed my diaper bag and headed off to the Stop and Shop bathroom. Luckily it had a changing station (don't even get me started on how many family restaurants and places don't have them at all). I whipped out my changing pad, diaper, and wipes, and got to business. When I change John, or even when I help Amelia get dressed, I talk to them. It's natural and keeps them occupied during an otherwise boring, mundane task. So, there I am, taking off John's diaper, and babbling on when an old woman (who just finished her own business) waltzes over and starts talking to me and my baby. She's asking how old he is, saying how cute he is, telling me about her great grand kid who's the same age. She's going on and on.

I know that she's someone's mom and grandma, and she's probably very nice. But, my son is naked on a changing table. Plus, I'm trying to chat with him and keep him from wanting to roll right off the table. And this lady is talking to me like she is my best friend and like it's completely normal for her to be doing so while I'm wiping my baby's butt. Well, it's NOT normal...

I respect the fact that she thinks my kid is cute and all and that he reminds her of her grandchild, but it's weird for you to be talking to me and my baby while I'm changing him. His privates are out for the whole world to see. I have my hands preoccupied. It's not natural to be talking to a complete stranger during this whole process. It's like strangers think that because it's a baby anything goes... 

Well, let me ask you this? Does my baby barge in on your closed stall door while you're sitting on the toilet doing your thing? Does my baby have full conversations with you in the bathroom? Are you sitting there exposed for the whole world? I'm pretty sure we can all agree that the answer is NO! Thanks for the sweet compliments, but please let my baby get changed without having to worry about complete strangers staring at his naked body. I have never done this to another parent. No matter how cute their child is or what they are doing. Even before I was a parent I didn't do this. It's just not normal. It's not a proper social custom. Just because they are tiny, cute, and innocent, doesn't mean that we get to treat them differently.

But, people talking to me while I'm changing my baby is nothing. With Amelia I have heard so much more. Things that you just don't ask strangers. Things that are rude. Or hurtful. And just plain crazy.

A good example is a few months after Amelia was born. For those of you who didn't see Amelia as a baby, or those who don't remember, she was born with a fairly large, very red, strawberry birthmark on her head. It was pretty noticeable since it was just above her forehead and was one of the first things you saw when you looked at her. It didn't bother me, or her for that matter. It was normal. In fact, I forgot it was even there after the first few months. But complete strangers noticed...

We were walking in the mall with Amelia when she was just a few months old. We were just getting onto the elevator and a middle-aged man stepped in right after us. He was looking around the elevator and saw Amelia. He said, "Oh. She's cute." We said the customary "thank-you" thinking that was the end of the conversation. We were wrong... The stranger them looked a little closer at her forehead and asked, "What's that red thing on her head? Did you guys hit her?"

I FREAKING KID YOU NOT! SERIOUSLY?! I honestly don't think I will ever forget this particular incident. SERIOUSLY! This dude, a complete and total stranger, just asked me if I beat my child. Not my child, my INFANT! There are so many wrong things with this situation that I don't know where to start. First off, it's rude of you to even mention the mark on my daughter's forehead. You don't know where it came from, you don't know my family, and you're a stranger. It's none of your damn business. Second, you just accused me of beating my child. I'm gonna leave that one alone because it's both ridiculous and infuriating. Third, even if I did beat my child, would I tell a random person?! Ummm... probably not. And just for the record, I did NOT beat my child. Nor have I ever. Once again, this is a case of social "rules" gone wrong. Just because she is a baby, doesn't mean that you can ask anything thing you want. It's rude. So, just shut up.

And speaking of Amelia, I still get this one to this day! And it's soooo annoying and tiring to answer over and over again...

My husband and I both have dark hair and relatively dark eyes (mine are brown and his are hazel). So naturally, when I was pregnant I always imagined having a dark-haired, dark-eyed baby girl. But, when she popped out, she was blonde as could be with the bluest eyes. I was pretty shocked. But, she was (and still is) beautiful, and I shouldn't have been that shocked. My mom's hair was so blonde when she was little that it was almost white, my sister is a natural dirty blonde, and all my cousins have blonde hair. It's genetics. 

But ever since she was a baby, and to this day, everywhere we go we get asked the same question, "Where does her blonde hair come from?". Really?! I get the compulsion to ask. We all have dark hair and she doesn't. It's different. But one, it's not unheard of. And two, you honestly don't know why she has blonde hair and your question could just as easily offend me and my husband. What if she was adopted? Wouldn't you feel terrible asking us that? What if someone I know passed away and their daughter was left to me and my husband to raise? Wouldn't that bring back bad memories for us? What does it matter if you know where her blonde hair came from? 

It's pretty rude to ask this question. You don't know the reason why and it shouldn't matter to you anyway. Just say my daughter has pretty hair and move on. This question has tired me out so much that I have begun to be creative about my answer to it. "Where does your daughter's blonde hair come from?" "Oh, my husband and I are swingers and had an accident." "Why does your daughter have such blonde hair?" "She really belongs to the Edible Arrangement's guy." These are just a few of my creative answers... I have said all these and more. Because if you think you can come up to me and ask a random, crazy question, then I can tell you some random, crazy answer. Plain and simple.

Even going back to before Amelia was born and when I was pregnant, strangers have NO boundaries. If you have ever been pregnant, and that belly starts to show, you know what I am feeling. You are standing in line at the grocery store, waiting to check out, your feet are swollen, the store is overcrowded, and you just want to get home and eat that pint of Ben&Jerry's with your feet propped on the couch, and suddenly you hear it. The lady behind you says, "Oh, you're pregnant. When are you due?" You rattle off an answer and then there it is. Slowly the lady is reaching out to you with her grubby paws trying to feel your belly. Ahh! No thank-you!

Just because I have a tiny human growing inside my belly and it's visibly obvious, doesn't mean you get to touch it. It's my belly. It's my baby. And once again, I DON'T KNOW YOU! Just because I am pregnant doesn't mean that you get to throw all social boundaries out the window and touch my belly. I don't touch yours, please don't touch mine. Unless I know you, and even then, only if I invite you to. It's just weird.

Ok, I think that pretty much sums it up. I know this is kind of lengthy and a little whiny, but it's so true. If you have ever been pregnant, if you are a parent, or if you are going to be, you know that you have had all these thoughts and encounters and more. It's the truth. So if you are a stranger, just back off. And think before you open your mouth. That's all. Babies and pregnant bellies are adorable. But that doesn't mean that they don't get the same respect as you or I. 

End of story.

Passage

One concept that has always fascinated and scared me is the passage of time. Some days seem to stretch for an eternity, while others are gone before you know it. When we are children, it feels like we have all the time in the world, while as adults, the days aren't long enough. There is never enough time to accomplish what we want. There is never enough time to see all your family and friends. Years go by and you simply cannot believe it. Wasn't it just yesterday that mom and dad were driving us around to school and play dates? Doesn't it seem like last year you were having your first kiss? Or is your high school reunion really coming up already? And you were just holding your newborn, so they can't already be one, right? Where does the time go? And what can we do to slow it down? Or freeze a few moments so they can last just a bit longer...

I know what time is... How many seconds are in a minute, how many minutes are in an hour, how many hours are in a day, how many days are in a week, how many weeks there are in a year. I know how old I am. I remember most of the years that got me to this point in my life. I know how time works. I get it; I really do. It just feels like everything melts together... Time literally flies... It escapes me before I know what is happening...

But to me, nothing signifies the passing of time like watching your children grow up...

Last night I was looking through "old" photo albums and pictures on facebook and I stumbled upon pictures of my little girl when she was just turning one, and then ones of her still sucking her pacifier at two, and then came the big smiles and the curls in her hair. It honestly made me sad; happy, but sad. How did time get away from me that fast? When did my little baby girl become 5?

I remember the day Amelia was born. I was anxious. I was hoping that she would wait until her due date because  08.08.08 would be the coolest, and easiest, birthday ever. I thought I was ready, but truth was I didn't know what to expect. Her birth was surprisingly easy; don't get me wrong, the contractions hurt like hell. But, I sat in the shower, most of my pain went away, I pushed for an hour and there she was. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Definitely not what I expected, but so beautiful and perfect. Chris and I created the most amazing human being and she was all mine; my daughter.

Those first few months were HELL... I got the baby blues so bad. I cried... a lot. I was scared to be left alone with a baby by myself. I didn't sleep enough. I was worried I was doing everything wrong. I was overwhelmed. But seeing her face, and her finally sleeping through the night and getting on the right formula, made it all worth it.

Before I knew it, she was smiling and getting teeth. She was laughing and exploring the world around her. She was commando crawling like a champ. She turned one and shortly after started walking. It was the most amazing, crazy, unexpected year of my life, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Two flew by with more milestones passed. Three came out of nowhere. Four was fun because we got to go to Disney and I was pregnant with my second child. And now, here we are at five... FIVE!

Gone are the chubby cheeks and arms with rolls. Gone are the precious, laughable first word mistakes, like "skissors" for scissors. Gone are the toothless smiles. Gone are the baby giggles. Gone are so many first milestones... I can never get those first five years back. All I have to preserve them are photos, memories, and a few precious videos.  

Now my daughter is almost done being a kindergartner! She has survived her first bus ride. She accomplished her first homework assignment. She had a blast at her first school birthday party. She tackled her first trip through the hot lunch line. She trooped it out with her class on her first field trip. She learned to love her first elementary school teacher. She did it. And again all I have are memories and photos... Time has passed by too fast again.

And with this amazing past year, I gained something just as prized as my baby girl; I have a handsome, happy baby boy...

This time last year, I was just about ready to have an ultrasound telling me if I was going to have a boy or a girl. Well, my little guy wanted the world to know he was all boy because that ultrasound was very telling... I could prepare for my baby shower. I could look at the boy's section of the store and gush over the fact that I didn't have to buy all pink anymore (THANK GOODNESS!). I was going to have a little boy and I was over the moon.

I remember the day of John's birth too... Which is good, because it was just over six months ago... My water broke at about 9:30 at night and John was born at 11:40 on the dot.... I was now a proud parent of a boy and a girl; an official mom of two! But with John's birth came the realization that time would pass by even more...

It feels like just yesterday I was holding this tiny, sweet smelling newborn, so he can't already be almost seven months, can he? But, the smiling, the laughing, the babbling, the first foods, a first (and second growing in) tooth, and scooting on the floor are all indications that once again, six precious months are gone. I have just a few videos, so many pictures, and amazing memories to capture the time that has flown by too fast.

I don't feel old enough to have been married for seven years and to have two healthy, beautiful children. But I am. I'm 27. My 10 year high school reunion is coming up next year. Amelia is about to complete kindergarten. John is going to be crawling before I know it. So much to look forward to, but so much to be missed...

Time passing is such a crazy concept... We watch the days crawl by and see the years flash before our eyes. We are a year older. Our children are a year older. We learn lessons that we won't repeat in the future. We reminisce about decades past. We anticipate future moments, whether they are weddings, upcoming births, or just a good time out. We wish we could go back in time to have one more second with a loved one. We wish we could look into the future and see if we are headed on the right "path". Time either goes by too fast or too slow.

But what I have learned from watching my children grow up (and I sound like my kids are turning 30 and having their own babies...), is that time goes by way too fast. What is five years seems like five seconds. You can't ever get back that loved one. You can't ever experience that first smile or first step again. And the future is always uncertain. So time should be spent living in the moment. Always say, "I love you", one more time. Always give that one quick kiss, even if it means making you a little late. Always stand at the door and wave good-bye to your children on the bus, even if it embarrasses the heck out of them. Always take the time. Because you never know when you won't have the time anymore.   

A Passion...or Obsession...

So this post is going to be a totally different tone than my last. It's much more upbeat and I feel pretty passionately about it. It's all about:

Books!

I am honestly OBSESSED with reading and I am constantly searching for material. I'm pretty eclectic in my taste I've read everything from biographies (Jenny McCarthy) to non fiction (Rumspringa about the Amish tradition of exploring the outside world in order to choose whether they wish to become a member of the community or leave their faith and families) to romance and everything in between. I pretty much love it all; although I do tend to go through phases and read a lot of one type of genre.

In a good week I can read 2-3 books easy. But, my kiddos often get the best of me and I've recently slowed down my progression of books. And to be honest, books cost money and with my rate of reading, it tends to get expensive.

So, this brings me to my current post. I'm going to share a bunch of my favorite books on here. But, not the traditional Top of the New York Times Best Sellers list, although I do like a fair amount of those books*(see * at bottom to see some of my favorites). I'm going to write about what I think are little known books, or books on the rise. And some of them are free books that I just fell in love with. I should note that these books are priced based on the Barnes&Noble Nook (which I should have never gotten because it makes my book obsession worse). I should also note that I don't have deals or promotions with Barnes and Noble or any of the authors I am writing about. I just honestly fell in love with these books and think everyone should read them.

Here's my recent favorites list:

First and foremost is The Testing Trilogy by Joelle Charbonneau. The first book is called The Testing and the most recent release is Independent Study, which just came out on January 7th. I found this book by Googling "Books similar to The Hunger Games". Yes, I am that much of a nerd and yes, I was/am that obsessed with The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. But, I found an actual list that had books similar to The Hunger Games and it listed The Testing. I looked it up on my Nook, it was $9.17, decided what the hey, and quickly became OBSESSED.

This book is the perfect accompaniment to The Hunger Games trilogy. It's very similar in the fact that it's a trilogy (Duh!), it's set in a dystopian society, it involves teens, there's a lot of death, and has a corrupt government. The story follows Cia, a young adult of sixteen, growing up in a small town (or colony as they are referred to in the book) on the day of her school graduation. Upon their graduation day, students either enter the work force (helping to rebuild a destroyed country) or are chosen for "The Testing" at the University. Only the few top students from each colony are chosen to participate, and the main character is one of those chosen. Once testing is complete, students enter the University, and then are chosen as either a candidate for government officials, doctors, teachers, or other high ranking positions. It's a limited, coveted spot; one that young people are willing to cheat, fight, and even, die for.

The book follows Cia's journey through the Testing with her fellow students from her colony and the people she meets along the way. Much like The Hunger Games, Cia is constantly questioning the motives of those around her and trying to read between the lines of everything that is said to her. I don't want to give too much away, but the book is completely fascinating and perfect for those who are looking for an engrossing dystopian novel.

I like the fact that it's a completely plausible society. The history of the US is described in detailed terms of nuclear and civil war, corrupt governments, and a world where nature strikes back in the form of devastating earthquakes, tsunamis, and hurricanes. All of this could be a far distant United States. The threat of war in our current civilization is always there and it's been said for years by scientists that California is going to basically fall into the ocean due to the San Andreas fault line. Cia's world in The Testing just seems real. Making it scary and possible.

Plus the relationships are interesting; they make you fall in love with certain characters, laugh along with others, and question everything that comes out of anyone's mouth. There are unsuspecting allies, as well as surprising enemies. The concept of the actual testing process is horrifying. Seeing how society has adapted is even more shocking; I would never survive in Cia's world.

Independent Study, the second book in the series, is even more engaging. It has all of the same elements as the first book, with moments that made me literally shriek or had my jaw dropping open. While certain plot lines are obvious, others are unsuspecting, which forever keeps the reader on their toes. When I finished the book, I was instantly wanting more; in fact, I wanted to go back and reread the book again. I want the third book, Graduation Day, to come out tomorrow. It's perfect and I love it. It fills the void left by knowing that The Hunger Games trilogy is over.

Another book that I recently read is A Moment by Maria Hall. This was actually free on my Nook, which made it appealing, but it's also a "distorted" romantic book, which is also one of my current obsessions. While I love dystopian novels, I have an absorbent amount of romantic novels in my Nook library, where troubled boy meets troubled girl, usually in a high school or college setting. Boy hates girl, girl hates boy, both connect through "cosmic" circumstances, and help one another overcome their tortured pasts. Granted they are a little cheesy and most of them follow the same guidelines, but I love them.

In A Moment, the reader meets Liliana, a teen mom, who grows up taking care of her sick mother and autistic child while supporting her family and going to school. At school, she is friends with Alex, who introduces her to his troubled cousin Ryan. Ryan is your traditional good looking "bad boy", who is dark and mysterious, and obviously has his own set of problems. Liliana is reluctantly smitten with Ryan after a life-altering incident, and the book follows their struggles of opening up and facing their demons.

This book is appealing on so many levels. I love the relationships; between Ryan and Liliana, Liliana and her son, Ryan and Alex, Liliana and her mom. So intricate and each one shapes how the characters act, which is exactly what happens to all of us; our parents, relatives, friends, significant others, they all have a huge impact on our thought processes, our actions, and our opinions. I also love this book because of Liliana's relationship with her autistic son. It's heartbreaking and endearing and introduces an autistic child to the reader in a very simplistic way.

It's just a quick, touching read. I recommend it.

Another one of my favorites in the same "bad boy, good girl" genre is Beautiful Disaster and its' companion Walking Disaster by Jamie McGuire. I LOVE these two books! In Beautiful Disaster Abby is a "small town" girl just starting out her freshmen year at college with her best friend America. Abby is closed off to the idea of relationships and love due to her mysterious past, until she meets Travis Maddox, bad boy on campus. Travis is the ultimate man; ripped with muscles, oozing sex, and tatted up... He's also the campus "man-whore"; uses girls and throws them to the side because, you guessed it, his past has closed him off to love as well. But those two just can't seem to shake one another, and when a bet lands Abby living with Travis and his roommate Shepley (coincidentally, America's boyfriend and Travis' cousin), it seems to be fate's divine intervention.

This book had me from the start; I honestly couldn't put it down. I love the whole idea of a "bad boy" and what girl doesn't?! And Travis is the ultimate "bad boy"; muscles, tattoos, fights in an underground ring for money, and you can't seem to hold him down for more than a one night stand. Every girl wants to be "that girl"; the one who pegs down the "bad boy" and makes him change his ways. Travis is such a great character; what you expect, but not really. He's officially my book boyfriend and that's one of the reasons I love this book so much.

Plus, Abby is a spit-fire; the kind of girl who's all sweet and innocent on the outside, but a little sassy on the inside too. She doesn't care to impress the big man on campus; which is how most girls want to be. We want to be who we are and wear what we want and at the end of the day, we want the guy to be ok with that. Her friendship with America is perfect and her interaction with Travis is exciting and fun.

And the great part, what really made me fall in love with these two books, is the fact that Walking Disaster is the same story as Beautiful Disaster, but written from Travis' point of view. Now, while this may seem redundant, it's not. Because while most romance novels, are written from the woman's point of view, you never get to hear what the guy is really thinking. You never understand why he said or did something; let's face it, men are a mystery. But, Walking Disaster, gives us an in-depth look into Travis' family, what he's thinking when he's "whoring" around, how he falls for Abby, what motivates him during certain parts of the book. Sure, it has a lot of the same scenes and the same dialogue as the original, but it has extras too; stuff that maybe you didn't think about, but once you read them, it adds so much to the story. I love love love books with a guy's point of view... And let's be honest, some of us are still hoping for Midnight Sun to be published...

Other great mentions in the "bad boy meets girl and both have a troubled pasts" genre are:
Hopeless by Colleen Coover (which also has a male character's point of view companion, Losing Hope)
Ruining Me and Ruining You by Nicole Reed
Wait for You by J Lynn (male character's point of view is Trust in Me)

And I guess that's all I am going to bore you with for now. These are just a few of the books I have read over the past year that I fell in love with and I hope someone else falls in love with them too.

*The Fault in Our Stars John Green
Fifty Shades of Grey Trilogy E.L James
Divergent Trilogy Veronica Roth (although Allegiant was a huge disappointment and seemed like a rip off of The Maze Runner series)
The Hunger Games Trilogy Suzanne Collins

The Happiest Time of the Year

It's been so long since I've last posted on here... And that's a shame because I enjoy writing and sometimes I have so much to say, but typing is easier... The last time I wrote a blog was shortly after my grandfather died and I guess this new post is fitting for my first one in over a year...

They call this time of year, the holiday season, "the most happiest time of the year"; in fact, I believe it's a song lyric... I guess it is in a way; people are giving (not just presents, but their time and money and heartfelt words to the homeless, our troops, and those in need), families are getting together, and people are celebrating the "reason for the season" (whatever that may be to them). There are fun decorations, parties, holiday events, laughter, Christmas cookies, classic movies that remind us of our childhoods, and Elfs on the Shelfs. It is a happy time of year. But also a time of reflection.

For most people, the holiday season starts with Thanksgiving. People gather around groaning dining room tables, surround themselves with family and friends, and say what they are thankful for. I haven't done it in a while, but my family tradition growing up was to go around the table to say what we were thankful for and then we would eat dinner. Sometimes we were thankful for having food on the table, sometimes we were thankful for the people who joined us that year, but every year we were thankful for the people sitting around our table; the people who brought us joy, laughter, tears, heartache, and our reason for living. 

I have continued this tradition, but in a different way... I am not a religious person; I was never baptized (I know, "living with original sin, gasp"), I never attended church on a regular basis. But, every night I pray and say what I am thankful for. I am thankful first, and foremost, for my children who bring such joy to my life each and every day. They are beautiful, funny, loving, impossible, frustrating, special, and amazing all rolled into one. They are the reason I live my life. I am thankful for my husband who has stood by my side through so damn much. We don't always get along, we fight like no one else, but we love each other through it all. I couldn't live my life without him...he has given me unconditional love, two beautiful children, and a second family that I am grateful beyond words for. I am thankful for my family, both mine and Chris'. I fight and argue with my family, just like everyone does, but we have such a special bond and at the end of the day we are ALWAYS there for one another. Chris' family makes me laugh and have accepted me as one of their own since day one. I am thankful for my friends. I don't have a large group of friends, in fact, it's kind of small, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Two of my best friends I have known since I was 8 years old (that's a whopping 18 years!) and they have been my confidants, my bridesmaids, and surrogate aunties to my children. My other best friend is the girl I met in freshman year of high school and I legit think that was fate that we met because we are basically the same person; I wouldn't know what to do without her. I have a best friend who I met through Chris; another act of fate because we share so many of the same interests, have the same family values, and our children will grow up together which is something special. And finally I have my sister, who is there for me through thick and thin; there are no words to express how much she means to me. I am thankful for the relative health of all of these amazing people. I am thankful that I have a roof over my head and a meal on my table. Everyday I say those things to whoever is listening above.

As Thanksgiving passes, we jump right into Christmas, Hanukkah, or whatever it is we celebrate. And this time of year is both the happiest for me and the saddest. I always get melancholy and sad right about now and it's kind of hitting me harder this year...maybe because I'm a year older, maybe a year wiser, maybe because I know what I'm missing...

I think back to about 10 years ago, I would be 16, and remember how about this time of year, my family would be planning on my grandparents coming into town. We would be picking out a place for them to sleep, buying grapefruit juice for my grandpa, my mom would be piling up her mound of clothes on the couch to be ironed and throwing it in her closet. My grandma would bring brownies and deviled eggs, waiting to finish the eggs for me because she knew that part was my favorite part. She would help my mom wrap presents Christmas eve. We would usually watch a Christmas movie before bed. Sometimes we would go to holiday craft fairs. My grandpa was usually grumpy but we all expected that; it was who he was. We would play at least one game of Rummy 500. There would be blueberry muffins Christmas morning. The smell of coffee. And of course, stinky Owl cigars... My grandma would take "Mitzy"(her version of Missy) outside. It was amazing and so special. A time of year I truly cherished and looked forward to.

And there isn't any of that anymore... I miss my grandparents so much this time of year. I would do anything for one last hug. One last smell of grandma's shampoo. One last time to "beg" my grandpa to say "I love you". One last time to smell that cigar scent that always lingered on his clothes. One last bite of my grandma's boxed brownies because the regular boxes just don't taste the same. One last laugh from each of them. One last time to see my grandpa pop his dentures out of his mouth to make us laugh. One last Christmas morning with my whole family. I just want one more anything.

I thought it would get easier as the years went by. But it doesn't. It doesn't hurt everyday. But it hits me out of the blue. When I smell old fashioned perfume. When I see the old Herbal Essence bottles. When I smell a cigar. When I see a deck of cards. When I see Tom playing with Amelia and John. And sometimes, when I don't expect it. John will never get to see two of the most influential people in my life. Amelia met my grandpa, but not my grandma. I hate that I have to grow up without them. I hate that my children won't get to see how special they were. I hate it. I miss them so much it actually hurts. I would honestly do anything just for a little more time. They were both taken out of my life far too soon and far too suddenly...

This time of year is so special to me because of my memories, but it's also tough to deal with. And I know my mom feels it, my sister feels it, my brother feels it, my aunt feels it, my whole family feels it. This time of year reminds me of all the people I won't get to hug and kiss one last time. I miss you so much and I love you all so much. Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Tracy, Grandma Popolizio, Grandpa Trotto, Aunt Dorothy...this is for you, for all the memories, for all the times you are missed and remembered, for all the times we wish you were here.

So tonight I am a little sad; I write this with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes. But tomorrow it might be a little easier. Seeing my children smile. Knowing that my daughter will be so surprised Christmas morning. Watching my son get stronger every day. Kissing and hugging my kids, my husband, and my family a little tighter. It gets a little easier. And then some days it doesn't get any easier. But I will always be thankful for my memories. For my family. For my friends. For my health. 

Merry Christmas...or whatever it is that you say Merry for...

Right Before Your Eyes

It has been said that when you die, or come close to death, your whole life flashes before your eyes. I'm not sure who started this or how they came to find this out. But I do know that, even though I have never come close to death, I believe this statement is false. When someone dies, their life doesn't flash before their eyes, it flashes before their loved one's eyes.

Maybe we have only known that person for a short while, maybe we have known them their whole life, or maybe it's just an acquaintance. We don't know every detail of their life, but we do remember every moment they were in ours. We remember some moments more clearly than others, perhaps because it was a special occasion, like a wedding or a birth, or perhaps it was a terrible fight that you wish never happened. But as soon as someone passes, as the tears come and clear, and for every moment that strikes without warning, we see flashes of that person and how we remember them.

When I get upset, I cry. I also look for a way to express what I'm feeling. Thankfully I don't chose to take out my feelings and yell, or drink; instead I write. There is something so peaceful in typing what I feel...even if what I feel makes someone upset or angry. Right now my thoughts are all in a jumble and my eyes are watery and I'm upset, so I'm choosing to loosen the heaviness on my heart by writing.

On Saturday night, July 7, 2012, my grandfather passed away. I hate that phrase for so many reasons. I hate saying someone passed away because it sounds so politically correct when that's the very last thing I want to be. I hate saying passed away because the words are so ugly and impersonal. Most of all, I hate saying that someone passed away because it means people are hurting, and in this case, I know many people are hurting, myself included.

When I got that call Saturday night, I cried. Then I picked up a picture of my grandfather, one of him and my grandmother with their arms around each other, a time that they were both here and happy, and in love. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. Every Christmas morning we spent together when I was a young girl. The smell of blueberry muffins and White Owl cigars, the smell of Christmas morning breakfast and the cigar smell that always radiated from his clothes (the only cigar smell I can tolerate because it reminded me of him). The rolling green hills that my sister and I rolled down when we vacationed at his house in the summer. Hearing him say, "God damnit" in his gruff voice (something that he said so often it was like his morning greeting). A deck of cards, a pen, and pad of paper (with a hundred flashes of various tables at both of my mom's houses , the house in New York) from all the Rummy 500 games we played. The moments when I would say "I love you Grandpa" a thousands times until I got a response other than "Likewise". Him petting our various family cats growing up with a huge smile on his face. Him pinching my grandma when she begged him to watch movies with us (pretending he was upset about the whole ordeal but with a smile on his face all the same). A laugh that rumbled from his belly when you said something completely off-guard (like the card I sent him for his birthday a few years ago that he kept because it made in fun of how old he was). The way he walked like he had a slight limp (kind of like a penguin walking). The smell of Maxwell coffee. The last Christmas we spent together. The dish he gave to me for my wedding saying he wanted me to have it for happiness in my home because it brought him and my grandma so much happiness in their home. Everything flashed before my eyes. Words. Faces. Smells. Moments caught in time.

Not only did the moments in his life that I shared with him flash before my eyes, but the other things...the last wishes went off in my head. Like how I wish I got the chance to go to New York and visit him more often because he was always driving down here to see me and my family and I never did the same for him. How I wish I could have visited him in the hospital when he got sick these past few months. How I wish that I was there when he passed just so I could say "I love you" one more time. I always had an excuse...I don't have the gas money to get there. I get car sick. It would be so strange going there and knowing grandma wouldn't be there. I had a million excuses. And now I wish I didn't. I wish I could have just a few more moments.

Now, tomorrow I am heading back to New York, for the first time in so long. And not only won't my grandma be there, but my grandpa won't be there either. I will be going back to one of the most beautiful places I've been in my life. To a place that holds so many childhood memories. And it won't be the same. I get to head back with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes to say goodbye to someone who was there for me in my childhood when so many other family members weren't. Him and my grandmother were basically the only family that we had to spend holidays with growing up and now they are gone. Now, I get to visit their home without them. And it hurts. It makes me so sad.

But even through all the tears and the weight that keeps pressing on my chest, I am so thankful and happy for every moment I had with him. Every "I love you" that I received. Every Rummy game won and lost. Every moment I saw his face and heard his laugh. The last Christmas we had together, the one where he brought his new girlfriend to meet us, and the little bit of sparkle in his eyes that had been missing since my grandmother passed. 

Now I know the next few days are going to be incredibly hard, for myself and my family and the extended family that I haven't seen since my childhood summers in New York, but at least I know the saying "When you die, your whole life passes before your eyes" is wrong. The one last gift that we get from the person we love is that we get to see their life pass before our eyes. We get moments to last the rest of our lives. Moments that will sometimes stun us into loud, ugly sobs. Moments that will bring a smile to our face when we need it most. Moments that no one can take away, even though the person that brought them to us is no longer there to give us new memories.

I love and miss you so much grandpa (and grandma) and I hope that you are together...right where you belong.