A Walk Down Memory Lane

Getting old is no fun.

Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking. I'm only 25. But you know, sometimes I don't feel like it.

For instance, yesterday, I spent hours cleaning my house from top to bottom, and afterward, I felt like I was 64. My back hurt, my body was stiff, and I was ready for bed--and it was only 8:00 p.m.

Sometimes I look back on my life and think about the times when I could roll down hills without feeling a single aching muscle the next day, or when I could run around outside for hours without ever getting tired. Ah, the joys of being young(er).

Earlier, I went through a few old photographs that I have stored on my computer, and laughed about how much I had changed. I thought I'd share with you a few of the photos. Maybe you'll share some of yours and link to your post in the comments?

I went through a lot of weird phases. Like, from a big headed baby, to a "study built" pre-teen, to a beautiful "blossomed" teenager, and then into the adult that I am today. Fortunately for me and you, there are no photos on my computer of my "goth/alternative" phase. I'll save those for another day. ;)

Enjoy!



I'm the baby on the left. Look at that dome!
My dad had the hippy look going on here.
As for my mom, well, it was the 80s.

I'm the big girl saying "NO PICTURES!" with the oversized shorts.
Hey, at least I was tan. Now, I'm a pasty white vampire.

Me at my Grandma's house. How I miss her.
Like my curled bangs? I remember that was the "thing."
This had to be 6th grade.
 

This picture was taken after I had "blossomed."
I was 16-years-old here and rubbing my beauty in the
face of everyone who talked crap about me when I was younger.
And then my youth disappeared.
 

And that's me today (on the left) with my beautiful baby sister.
I guess she isn't really much of a baby anymore.

Hey, why don't you write a post, sharing some old photographs? Link to it in the comments and we'll all take a walk down memory lane together!



Blogger Cliques: Where Do You Fit In?

Do you feel like there are cliques within the blogosphere?

When I first started Freelance Lady back in January 2011, I didn't feel like I fit in anywhere. I wanted to be a part of the mommy blogging clique, but it soon became clear to me that Freelance Lady didn't exactly meet the criteria. I mean, let's face it. I'm not incredibly funny--my humor is more on the verge of dry and sarcastic as opposed to the "laugh-out-loud" funny. At first, I didn't really write about my daily life much--I focused more on the seriousness of working from home. I started to get discouraged.

Don't get me wrong. I have never come across another blogger who was rude to me. I've never been teased for my niche, nor have I been made fun of for my content ("Oh, that is so last year!"). But that still doesn't change the fact that I felt alone.

I felt like I was in high school all over again. "The Drifter." I was drifting from community to community, similar to the way I drifted from lunch table to lunch table back in school, just trying to find my place. Eventually, I became a loner. I felt isolated from everyone else in the blogging world, as if I just simply didn't belong.

And then I let my blog go for awhile. I stopped writing. I started focusing more on improving myself and my outlook on life, which, I'm now certain was the reason I was thinking so negatively before. When I went back to my blog, I started writing about what I liked writing about. I stopped worrying about where I fit in, and instead worried about the readers that were engaging in my posts. It was at that moment that I realized, it doesn't matter where you fit in as a blogger. What matters is that you're doing what you want to do and offering something to others as well.

So, do you feel like there are cliques in the blogger world? If so, where do you fit in? What's your take on it?

Becoming an Adult: Lessons Learned

Back in December, I turned 25.

I realized that I'm halfway to 50, and that based on United States life expectancy rates, I've lived out nearly a quarter of my life.

Okay, so I'm still young. I get that. But life is so precious. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. Time flies.

Lately, I've been reflecting on my life, and how far I've come since I was a freedom-seeking, rebellious teen only 10 years ago.

I started thinking about what I've learned over the years and how I've changed as a result. There are many different life lessons that played a role in my "growing up."

You have to earn the "good stuff" in life.
Believe it or not, as a teen, I assumed that I could make $10 an hour, and with it get an apartment, buy a car, pay my bills, eat steak and potatoes every night, and still manage to save money to spontaneously move to California. I had big dreams, to say the least, but I thought that I could get there with little effort, and I soon learned that I was totally wrong.

Respect, wealth, fame--it doesn't matter what it is--you have to earn it. Even if you are a privileged child growing up with everything you want and need, it does not secure respect from others. In order to garner true, honest respect--which is more valuable than thousands of people who know your name--you must earn it with hard work and dedication. Even if you come from a prestigious family and receive a free scholarship to Harvard, you won't earn a degree without studying and working hard to earn it.

The life you want must be earned.

It doesn't matter what people think.
Okay, I suppose it does matter if a potential employer thinks you're good at what you do, but that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the general opinions of others.

From my preteen years and on, I was overweight. At school, I was often teased by other classmates, and even though no true harm was meant, it really hurt me. Everyone used to tell me, "Oh, don't worry about what everyone else thinks," but as a teenager and even in my early adult years, it just didn't register with me. I did care. Unfortunately, this led to many missed opportunities in my life.

Thankfully, as I grew older, I soon realized that opinions are everywhere and I no longer let them rule my life. What random people thought of me was totally irrelevant. Today, I wear what I want. I do what I want. I like what I like without regret. I don't care what you think, or what the next guy thinks. I am who I am and I accept myself wholeheartedly.

You can't control your relationships.
From family relationships to romantic relationships, and everything in between, you can not control any of them. You can try, of course, but it will only lead to frustration and possibly even heartache.

Throughout my relationship with my husband, I struggled with jealousy. I felt as if everyone was a threat to my relationship. This was partly due to my lack of acceptance and love for myself at the time. To remedy the situation, I tried to control it. I searched for evidence that I was being wronged. I tried to find out every little detail about my husband's day. I was miserable, and at the same time, I was making him miserable as well.

I spent years working on improving myself once I realized how bad things had become. I learned to let go. I learned that we cannot control how others feel about us. The only thing we can control are our own lives. Today, I no longer jeopardize my happiness or the happiness of others due to my inability to control a situation.


Children change everything.
The very first time I held my son in my arms, I fell in love. My perspective on the world changed within seconds. I learned more about the world in the first five years of my son's life than I learned in the first 15 of my own.

Once you have a child (and in my case, two children), time begins moving faster until you finally understand what Albert Einstein was talking about: time truly is a persistent illusion.

Date night turns into family night. Horror movie marathons turn into Disney movie marathons. A trip to your favorite restaurant turns into a trip to the McDonald's play place. And before you know it, elementary school turns to middle school. Middle school leads to high school. High school leads to college, and in the blink of an eye, your precious babies are full-grown adults, moving out of the home to start lives of their own.

You'll experience many joys and many frustrations on your journey as a parent, but the one thing that stays the same is your admiration for them. From the wrinkles in their toes to the squeak in the sound of their laughter, you will never love another the way you love your own children.

A six year difference.

 A one year difference.

 



The perfect man does not exist, but the perfect man for you does.
It took many negative relationships and flings before I realized that I was settling for companionship instead of love. I finally stopped searching for the perfect guy and sure enough, he ended up right in front of my face.

We've been together for 8 years.

I assure you, your prince charming is out there, albeit he may not be riding the beautiful, white horse in your dreams.

Stop looking for the guy with the biggest wallet or the one wearing the most expensive suit and tie. Stop caring about the fanciest car or the highest penthouse. Even if your "perfect guy" has some of those things, it's not who he is. Your "perfect man" is the one who makes you happy no matter how upset you are. He sees past your physical body, deeply into your soul. He loves you despite your faults, and loves you because of them as well.

Yes. He is out there, but to find him, you must recognize the beauty in yourself as well.



The most important lesson that I've learned is that life is short. I've lost many close family members over the past few years, and I've started to appreciate the little things in life. Spend quality time with your family whenever you can. Call off of work every now and then. Be spontaneous every once in awhile. And more importantly, always tell the ones you love that you love them.

What you should know about me if we're going to be BFFs

I just read "Things You Should Know About Me if We're Gonna Be BFF" on Little Miss Momma (who, might I add, has an awesome little blog), and I felt inspired, so I thought I'd go ahead and write up my own.

Because who knows? Maybe one day we'll be best friends forever--or blog friends forever. Whatever.

Let's get started, shall we?

Things You Should Know About Me

 

 

 

First and foremost, the above picture does not reflect what I really look like. It's all about the angle, lighting, and (occasionally) filters.
 

That's more like it. And yes. That is me with a (very tall) leprechaun.

Moving along now...

I don't drink coffee.

Isn't that, like, against the mom code or something?
No, I'm not an alien. I still have to have my caffeine.

It's just that it's in the form of tea or energy drinks.


Bathroom time is MY time.
And I mean that. If I'm in the bathroom, you leave me alone.
The bathroom is like my mini-vacation.
I don't care if I'm in there for two days--don't come a'knockin.

I was a wild teenager.
At first, I thought that everyone was a wild teenager.
I soon realized that I was wrong. I learned a lot during those years and I kind of got the "crazy" out of my system.


Laundry is my worst enemy.
It's not putting it in the washer and dryer that bother me.
It's folding and putting it away that I loathe.
I'll put baskets of clean clothes in the bedrooms so I don't see it.
That is, until it starts consuming everything in it's path.


I'm addicted to sweet tea and energy drinks.

I used to drive to McDonald's for the tea.

Then, my husband started making it at home.

My house smells like roasted marshmallows when it's brewing.
Yum. I drink a lot of it. Too much of it.

Oh, and Red Bull gives me wings. What's not to like?
Out of my way, Mary Poppins! I don't need an umbrella!

 

 

 

 

I was instantly drawn to my husband.

You know how in the movies, a guy walks into a room,
the clouds part, the sun shines down on him, and the choir sings?

Yeah. That.

 

 

I live for the moments when I laugh so hard I feel like I'm going to pee my pants.

 

 

  

I love staying up late.

And then I hate it in the morning. But mama needs her down time.

 

 

I smoke cigarettes.

Grill me. Go ahead.

I know it's a bad habit. I know I should have never picked it up. But guess what? I did. And no, I don't smoke in my home, and I don't smoke in the car with my kids.

 

 

My #1 best friend is my little sister.

And she always will be. She's my rock.
She already knows all of this stuff.

 

 

 

 

I absolutely cannot stand for my hands to be dry.

Come into my house and you'll find bottles of lotion sprinkled throughout. If my hands are dry, I have to find lotion right then and there, or else I won't touch anything.

 

 

I don't keep medicine in the medicine cabinet.

And my medicine cabinet is terribly unorganized.
My husband always gets on to me about that.

I keep my medicine in the kitchen cabinet.
Why? I have no idea.

 

 

I have a warped sense of humor--and most people don't know.

I'm very, very, very conservative and aware of myself in public.
If we're not "cool"--and I mean you-see-my-house-a-mess-and-I-don't-care cool, then you probably haven't had a taste of my dementedness. And yes...dementedness.

 

 

I have a terrible habit of collecting papers.

Coupons, sales ads, old bills, random scribblings--you name it, if it's on paper, I've got it. I seriously have drawers in the house stashed with papers. Oh, and there are baskets. And closets.
It's a family tradition that's been passed down for generations.
Minor hoarding, if you will.

 

 

 

 

A clean house makes me a happy girl.

Cleaning, on the other hand, does not. I loathe cleaning.

It'd be fine if I didn't clean it, only to turn around and it be a mess again. How does that even happen? Oh yeah. Because kids are like poltergeists.

 

 

It freaks me out if my kid(s) cough while sleeping.

I'm afraid they're going to choke.

I have anxiety for hours after my child coughs while sleeping, even if I check on them every 5 minutes.

 

 

I really, really, really want a tattoo.

But I won't get one until I know with 100% certainty what I want and where I want it.

 

 

I despise snow, unless it's Christmas.

The only thing I like about the cold is the ability to wear scarves.

I only like snow on Christmas. End of story.

 

 

 

 

One day, I want to be recognized by complete strangers.

I don't want to be famous. I simply want to be known.
I want people to recognize me, but I don't want to be "cool enough" for them to want to take their picture with me. Does that make sense?
I just want to be known for something, I just don't know what that something is yet.

 

 

I am oblivious to "fashion."

I like scarves, knee-high and calf-high boots, hoodies, earrings, and jeans--not in that order. And if I feel like wearing all of the aforementioned items together, then I damn sure will. I very rarely wear dresses/skirts and I never wear high heels. You'll never catch me in shorts--I never show my legs in public unless I'm swimming.

 

 

 

 

I'm obsessed with all things nail related.

Nail polish, top coats, base coats, nail art, rhinestones, nail brushes, decals--everything. I used to do my nails every other day, or when they chipped. Today, I just don't have the time or the patience to wait for them to dry.

 

 

 

 

I'm the "shy girl."

I'm an introvert. I'm very quiet. It freaks people out sometimes.
I'm an observer, and people often mistake me for a bitch, but I promise you, I'm not.

 

 

I am very insecure of my smile.

It actually pains me to write about this.
I dream of a beautiful, white, movie-star smile.
My teeth just aren't in the best shape.
I've had a lot of fillings, and many are discolored.

 

 

When my hair is black and I'm wearing black, I feel comfortable.

My hair is naturally dark brown, but when it's black, I'm in my element.
I like the "dark" look and I'm 100% comfortable rocking it.

 

 

I have a lot of "junk" in my house.

I have a "junk drawer" and a "catch all" in almost every room of the house. Because where else do you put paper clips, shoe strings, little metal clasp thingies, and thumbtacks?

 

 

I love virtual window shopping.

I'll fill up my e-cart, and then click out of the website once I see my total.

 

 

I'm a Cincinnati Bengals fan.

WHO DEY!

 

 

 

I'm a homebody.

I love being at home. It's my castle. My safe place.
I can walk around in a tank top without people staring at my cleavage.

Unless, of course, you're my husband.

 

 

Nothing motivates me to clean my house like company.

If you think I should get off of my ass and start cleaning, tell me that you're coming over. It'll be spotless in no time.

 

 

I have three regrets in life.

One. My "first time."
Two. Dropping out of high school.

Three. Fighting with my parents so much as a teenager.

 

 

So, there you go. You now know more about me than most people. Congratulations.

 

 

Go ahead and share with me. What are some things about you that other people should know if you're going to be BFFs?