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Grief is wily thing. I intended to write a post about the pains of forcing your children to do hard things but, as I was writing, I was fighting back tears and I realized my own grief about leaving behind a life, a place, and people that I love.

When I left the south in 2008, I needed to go and grow. I needed to spread my wings and find out who I really was. I had spent my mid 20’s in a spiral of bad decisions. I needed to figure out if any of those mistakes were accurate examples of who I was.

Within two years, I moved Northern California, married my husband, and had a baby. I still needed space to find myself but I also needed my mom so we packed up and moved to Louisville, Ky where we’ve been since 2010.

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We Are Not Commercials

We Are Not Commercials - Quit Being Ugly

A few years ago, I was given the gift of insight into my flawed perceptions. I am a thrift store junky. I can spend hours scouring the racks of Goodwill looking for nuggets of fashion gold. It began out of necessity because we were a single income family with two children in diapers. I had managed to build a closet full of second hand clothing. I went to a meeting wearing some of my latest Goodwill finds. Afterwards, I was chatting with an acquaintance and she complimented my outfit. I thanked her and laughed as I told her the story of my outfit and the mere $7 that I spent on my shoes. She looked at me for a minute without saying anything and then started laughing.

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YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

you.are.enough

Have you seen the sign that goes something like this, “In Our House . . . we say I’m sorry, we do forgiveness, we never give up, we make mistakes, we give second chances, we say I love you.”? Most of us have. I was sitting at a girlfriend’s house the other day and looking around at her imperfect home with toys piled in the corners and a cobweb hanging from the light fixture. I wasn’t looking around her house with a critical eye or judging the messes.

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Welcome to my Blog!

Welcome to my blog - Quit Being Ugly

Welcome to my blog! I’ve been a member of Facebook since 2007. I joined Instagram a few years ago. I got sucked into the Twitter-verse about a year ago and I mildly use snapchat to send goofy pictures to my sister in law. About six months ago my iPhone started sending me these weekly reports about my usage and, quite generously, it broke all that usage down by site/app/etc.

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Mama-I-don't-feel-safe-here

My daughter went to her first day of her first basketball camp today at the University of Louisville. She is 8 and about a year ago she was diagnosed with anxiety.

There is nothing about parenting that is easy. And then there are things about parenting that are especially hard. Watching your child struggle with anxiety is my current dose of “especially hard”.

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