What my 7 year old niece taught me

As I'm sure you know(being that I continuously write about it, sing about it, shout it through the roof tops, and spend most days in a deep mind trance drooling over the mere thought of it) I'm a fan of home. And no, I don't mean Charleston.  Charleston can eff off.  I'm a fan of the true South.  The it's so humid I look like I just bathed in the bayou or stumbled upon a mysterious shower located seconds outside (insert frequented jive spot here) south.  I gush over Louisiana so much so that some would think I actually have stock in Jindal and his efforts to ruin rule the world, but trust me… I'm too southern to understand stocks.  I've been visiting home a lot lately.  Mostly because it's the only way my family can get me to shut up, but also because everyone I love is there and I've been quite the love snob lately.

I was able to spend a large part of my time with my niece during this past trip home, and as if I didn't already know, she once again proved to be a pure genius with true Maya Angelou strength and enough girl power to make you question starting up a real life Power Puff gang.  She has grit I can only dream of, confidence I'm just down right envious of, and a heart so full of love and pain that she'll make you want to wrap up in a big blanket and devote the rest of your life to cuddling and baking cookies.  I'm telling you - the girl is my hero.  Sometimes, with all of the madness of being a part of a crazy, loud southern family, I forget that she's seven.  I forget that she still needs me.  But that's mainly because most of the time I'm the one who needs her.

We had a mini road trip to my grandmother's, and here are a few things she taught me that I think ever girl human should know…

1. When life hands you lemons, which it often does, cry about it.  For real.  Let that shit out.  Then, get some ice cream, put on some big girl panties and turn up Taylor Swift as loud as you can.

2. If your pants are too tight, get a bigger size pant - not a smaller cookie.

3. Swimming, diving, cannonballs, toothpicks, spank-the-babies, and sliding down the pool slide are all best done naked.

4. "I don't like boys.  Unless they're cute."

5. What ice cream can't fix - dancing can.

6. A big butt is a good thing.  "Cap, I can always find you because of your big butt!"

There ya go, friends!  Knowledge only a feisty little seven year old can provide. 

Now, SHAKE IT OFF!  Or whatever else your gorgeous heart desires. 

-Cap

Home Sweet Home

W and I headed south last Friday to visit our families. Lately, going home has been tough--in that, it takes a lot of effort to force ourselves back in the car, back on the interstate, and back to WV.

We were home a total of 9 days over Christmas. Nine. Days. Home. You can imagine the grumpiest ride home ever and you would be spot on. Sure, its wonderful to get back to your own space and fur-babies. If only that space and those babies were located about six hours southeast.

Maybe, I whine on here too often about being homesick? I'm not sorry if I do, because it is a very accurate representation of my emotional state every day. I've gotten used to the homesick pangs. The ache has lessened in severity but its always there.

Anyways, before I get all sappy and depressed, here are some highlights from our visit home:

A gorgeous sunset greeted us as we drove into my hometown.

W got a gun. Yep. And, he is the only one excited about it.

Indulged in some delicious Cold Stone Creamery. My fave is coffee with heath bar. Yum

We kept our distance from Tux, aka Killer, aka The Terrorist, because he likes the taste of human.

I went for a run at my grandfather's farm on an old logging trail. Can't beat SC swamps and cypresses.

We reveled in those flat-as-boards SC fields after all this mountain-living. 

Got to love, squeeze, kiss, hug, soak-up, stare-in-wonder-and-awe at our beautiful nephews.

And so, I leave you, dear reader, with a little John Denver a la 4 year old. You're welcome.

Will you be leaving on a jet plane this weekend? Whether you will be or not, I hope you have a fabulous weekend. W and I will be staying warm and cozy in this relentless cold. We plan to (finally) watch Argo, eat carnitas on Saturday night and homemade chicken tikka masala on Sunday. YUM. 

What are your plans?

-b

SO GOOD. SO SO SO GOOD.

It was brought to my attention (by J) that I tugged on too many heartstrings Thursday while venting about my lack of friends and need for a dog.  J received NUMEROUS text messages, voice mails, and phone calls stating quite intensely that I needed a dog, and he should man up and get the shots.  (Thanks guys!)  :)

Despite the phone calls, Tiger still became a lost dream and I became a sorry excuse for a grown up.  J made valid points as to why the dog was a TERRIBLE idea, and I cried.

Where will Tiger go when we go home?  He could have heart worms!  What about all the crazy pet deposits we are going to waist while we're moving around so much?  YOU'RE ALLERGIC.

These were all very good points... for a man.  I'm a woman. A cute little dog seems like the best idea EVER right now.  So all of these valid reasons have NO impact on me.  I STILL want a dog.

Friday, I threw myself another pity party.  This one was even more intense.  We’re talking red face, blow fish cheeks, and snot.  LOTS OF SNOT.  Same issue… No friend, no dog.  (I have such a hard life)

In the mist of my pity party, I gave my very smart, beautiful, and LOGICAL sister a call (She’s a lawyer… a very practical and sane lawyer).  She has got to be sick of my breakdowns by now.  I let out a quick and normal “Hey Leah!” and then I lost all control of waterworks.

Leah- “Hey bug, what’s wrong?”

Me- “J doesn’t want a dog.  I’m 1000 miles from home and I just want a friend.  Why does he not get that?  (Once again, I’m such a brat) But I mean, it’s not about the dog.  It’s about the fact that HE DOESN’T CARE!"

Leah- “Cap, can I call you right back?”

Me- “yea(balling)aaaaa.”

Two minutes later (after confirming with J) I received this picture and text from Leah…

“Sorry I had to hang up with you, but I thought you should know… this is your new best friend.  Jason and I got him yesterday and he’s taking you to pick him up on Monday after his exam.  He is a 7 week old toy Yorkshire Terrier.”

I had to pull the car over on the side of the interstate while I tried to get a handle on the Mississippi River violently gushing out of my eyes (and nose).

This time, the tears weren’t from a self-inflicted pity party… the tears were from an intense feeling of LOVE.  It’s sad when it takes a psychotic dog issue to make me realize I have PLENTY of INCREDIBLE friends, a STELLAR sister who sincerely wants me to be happy, and an AMAZING husband (who may make me friendless by dragging me around the country), but HE makes my heart happy.  I have it so good.  SO SO SO GOOD.

I feel like little Sophia Grace.

This long road to becoming a doctorwife may indeed make me crazy.  It may continue to make me crazy for years to come, but even though med school is not my dream and even though it may not always be the highlight of my life, It is J's...  and I LOVE HIM.  Therefore, I love medical school the journey we're on.  This dog tantrum issue has made me realize my family, friends and hubby (though they may be far away at times) are always there for me.  I have it so GOOD.  My friends let me vent about J’s outlandish Beautiful Mind statements AND they let me call them at work to cry over a dog.  My sister… does all the above AND spent her Thursday (at a real job I might add) searching for a dog in WV on the Internet, teaching a little old lady how to work Pay Pal, and GOT ME A YORKIE!  My hubs even agreed to sacrifice his very own birthday to drive three hours away to pick up my new best friend.  I am so SPOILED blessed.

 - Cap