Good Job, Teach

This is quite possibly one of the nicest things I’ve ever seen written about teachers.

5 minutes of your life, you'll never get back


I freely admit it. I’ve taken teachers for granted. Sure, as a kid, you wanted the ones that weren’t too hard on you when you screwed up, or maybe
the ones who never noticed when you did.
As a parent, you merely hope they will turn your children into the smartest kids in town. We look at state rankings of schools and hope ours is smarter than that dumb school down the street. Because, by God, my kid needs to have a good job someday so I’m not supporting them till they’re 35.

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The Truth about Being a (Sort-Of) Young Mother

So I need a new topic to ramble about. And since one of my relatives said something pretty nasty about how I screwed up my life by getting pregnant, it’s going to be about my short journey as a young mother, and why it’s not that bad.

First, I realize lots of people (my and Tim’s own families included) were NOT happy when they found out I was pregnant. Hell, Tim and I weren’t happy when we found out I was pregnant. We were very much in denial. We had only been together for a few months (and I was already four or five weeks along). I got pregnant roughly thirty days after we moved in together, which was only two weeks after we started dating. That’s nuts! But, here we are just shy of two years since our little nugget was born, happier, stronger and more in love than ever.

Now, I had only been 20 for a few months when I found out I was pregnant. So at least we weren’t in the makings of a new “16 and Pregnant” episode, but I’m still a “young” mother who didn’t have her shit together when I got pregnant. And believe me, I was TERRIFIED. I never wanted kids growing up. I always thought I’d be a terrible mom (I’m not; I’m a fantastic mom). But, after I saw the first ultrasound of my baby, I was in-love, and I knew this was exactly what I was supposed to do.

There’s a lot I could say about having a baby out of wed-lock, and the way people react to it, but here’s what I’m going to say: Who the hell cares? Yes, there’s a lot in the bible about having a baby when you aren’t married. Well, the miracle that God blessed me with is nothing close to an abomination. And, as much as I love Tim with all my heart, I was not about to marry him just to make everyone else happy. (Just over one year until we do say “I do!”) We’ll get married on our own terms, happily. God is not unhappy with me about that, I promise. We’re tight.

Being a young(er) mom is hard. I had at least graduated high school before I got pregnant. But college is on hold until diapers aren’t a financial factor in my life anymore. Those are sacrifices mothers make, and that’s okay. I’ll take snuggles, sticky kisses and “I love you mommy’s” every single day, over that college degree.

I’m not one of those young mothers that sits at home, pops out a bunch of kids, and lives off the government. I have ONE child. I work part-time making more money an hour than most people start out with college degrees, and I get to do some of that out of my own home. I have a fiance who (most of the time) works his butt off to support this family. And the only thing we rely on the government for is health insurance, because it’s so damn expensive. THANKS OBAMA! :).

Plus, let’s face it, by the time my kid graduates high school, I won’t even be 40 yet, and can still do super cool fun stuff. BOOM! :).

The Struggle is Real

Do anyone else ever get a weird feeling that something just isn’t right? Whether it’s with a friend, a lover or a relative, you just know that something funny is going on. I don’t mean funny-haha; I mean funny-weird or funny-wrong. Like that goose-bumps and shaking like you’re freezing, but you aren’t even a little cold- anger, upset, weirded out feeling. That is my current life situation, and I literally haven’t got the slightest damn clue as to why. I hate feeling like this. It might be from some of the books I’ve been reading lately. I’ve read a few different series of books in the last week (total nerd about reading, I know), and they all have to do with a girl who was abused in some way and has to overcome it. It hits home a lot, but they’ve all been phenomenal books. I think I’m going to do some book write-ups or something. I know I want to start writing again, but I’m totally stuck on what to write about. The struggle is real here.

Nobody Likes You When You’re 23

Forgive the Blink-182 reference, but tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. (if you don’t know who Blink-182 is, you aren’t old enough to read my blog)… I never would have imagined my life the way it is now. If anyone had told me that at 23, I would be the mother to a brilliant and beautiful little 2 year old, engaged to an amazing man, and happier than ever, I’d have said they were insane. I went from hyper small child, to rebellious teenager, to depressed and suicidal victim, to brilliant student and rebellious college kid, to super mom and fiancée.  I have grown up so much in the last few years, it amazes myself. I continue to surprise and surpass my own expectations. I love my little family, and the life I lead on a daily basis. I could not be more proud of where I have ended up in my life. 

But, seriously, where the hell did the last 23 years go? Life really does go by fast, and you don’t realize it until BOOM, it happens. It’s crazy! Also, I lost my phone for a few weeks, but we’re back in business now! :).

Bummer; my lover

No, I’m not one of those whacky rednecks whose significant others’ name is Bummer (though I do have an Uncle Bummer)… Today, I’ve just been pretty bummed and I’m in no mood to write about anything heavy. So I decided to write about my fiance, Tim. There will be whining in this post. I promise that tomorrow I will post some of my actual writing. 🙂 (Shoutout to my 9 followers! Heyyy!)


It’s been a week since I’ve seen him, Tim. Such is the life of a military (almost) wife. I really could not be more proud of what my almost hubs does for our country, and for our family, but man, I really fucking hate the military sometimes. Mostly, I just hate it when it takes him away from me and Ryelee. I hate it even more when it’s for longer than just the weekend. I would never, ever ask him to not reenlist, but the thought that he has, at minimum, six and a half more years of this crap really makes me cranky and nervous.

Tim is a medic in the NY Army National Guard. He is also a firefighter, EMT, and a security guard. (And yes, I do looveeee my man in uniform). We started talking just over three years ago, when we met on a dating site by complete accident. He was engaged to and living with someone else, and I was in a very serious, committed relationship, preparing to move to Boston (from Upstate NY) to be with my special someone. So, at first, we were just friends. We had a lot in common and got along really well. Then feelings started to happen, and we both ended our relationships. We met, in person, on August 4th, 2012 in a Dick’s Sporting Goods store, and have been practically inseparable ever since.

We moved in together a week later. Ten months later, we welcomed our daughter, Ryelee into the world. Yes – I got pregnant just over one month into our relationship; shit happens. No one expected us to last, including us. But we love each other more than anything (except our daughter). And now, almost three years later, we are planning our wedding (so if you don’t like wedding chat, I’d suggest you don’t follow me)! We will say “I do” on August 6th, 2016. Four years to the day of the week that we met. We’re getting married by a creek (I’m a hick, so I say “crick”), and our reception is going to be in a barn.

Okay, maybe we’re a little redneck.
. But we’re classy country-folk.

Anyway, if you actually read this, thanks for listening to me rant, and I hope you get to know me a little more. 🙂

Until we meet again, friends. 🙂

Funny posting about my nugget

Here’s a happier post to follow the very heavy one that I just posted.

My daughter, Ryelee, will be 2 on the 20th of June. She is the smartest little nugget I’ve ever met. Today, she did something hilarious. Now, whenever I get frustrated with her, I usually exclaim “CHILD!” in a huffing and puffing sort of manner. She has started to copy this whenever she gets frustrated with someone. So, since we’re staying with my parents while my almost-husband is at training for the Army NG, Ryelee has been spending a lot of time helping my mom, “Nana” around the house. They were doing laundry today, and Nana said “that’s enough washing our hands, we don’t need to wash anymore.” Ryelee put her head in her hands and signed “Nana, child!” And then started CRACKING up laughing along with my parents and myself.

Get Out of My Car!

That’s what I should have told him. Why, why, WHY didn’t I tell him to get out of my car? Get out of my life! Get out of my ass! Because I was a stupid seventeen year old girl who was desperate for love.

Please note: this is a little graphic, and is not suitable for children.

It is only recently that I have truly come to terms with something that happened to me when I was a teenager. (In all reality, this was only about seven years ago). At seventeen, on Thanksgiving, in the backseat of my own jeep, I was raped by the guy who was my boyfriend at the time. And up until recently, I let the blame fall squarely on my own shoulders.

NOT ANYMORE. And I need to tell my story.

Up until that point, there were signs. There are ALWAYS signs, I promise you. He would call me by the wrong name, had at least 3 other girlfriends, make EVERYTHING sexual by forcing me into sexual texting or phone conversations, beg me to play with myself while I was on the phone with him, be super controlling about what I was doing and who I was talking to, tell me I wasn’t good enough for anyone else and that he was the best I was ever going to get so I had better worship the ground he walked on and do everything I could to please him… And we were 17!

I didn’t tell any of my friends or family how bad it was, and I didn’t leave. I saw all of the signs and did nothing. And things got worse… a lot worse. On Thanksgiving, I was driving him home after dessert with my family when he asked me to pull into the elementary school back parking lot so we could have some alone time (read as: so we could have sex). Of course, I did it, and it wasn’t the first time we had slept together by any means. Everything was going fine, until he decided to take it one step farther than I was ready for, and I had no choice in the matter. He was a wrestler, and much stronger than I was. I was flipped onto my stomach, and anally raped by a guy I thought I trusted because he said he loved me.

Let me tell you what, that fucking hurts more than anything on the planet, and I’ve been through labor and delivery, plus c-section pains. And afterwards, he kissed me and apologized saying he “couldn’t control [his] hips.” Biggest crock of shit ever.

I open up about this because afterwards, I told no one. Absolutely no one. I went home like nothing was wrong, and cried myself to sleep for days. I sat on the edge of my bed, praying that I wouldn’t wake up the next morning, begging God to let me die. I couldn’t take the pain anymore and tried to kill myself. I took a handful of ibuprofen pills, and went to bed, praying that I died from the overdose. Now, obviously, since I’m writing this now, it didn’t work. I woke up an hour later and threw up every ounce of everything in my system. I spent every minute following that for a year cursing God for letting this happen to me, and for making me endure the pain and not letting me die.

Today, I will never be able to express my gratitude to God for not letting me die. God wasn’t trying to punish me. Sometimes awful, awful things happen to really good people. And really good people have to suffer for it. I am no longer suffering. I want to be a voice to girls (or guys) who find themselves in a situation with a controlling boyfriend or girlfriend, or who have been abused or raped by their significant others. I want to tell them that there is ALWAYS a way out. I want to be a voice for young girls (or guys) who self-harm and have suicidal thoughts. I want them to know that you never, ever have to be alone, even in your absolute darkest hour there will always be someone who cares enough to say “I’m here for you and I love you just the way you are.”

I needed someone like that in my life at seventeen, and I didn’t have anyone because I shut everyone out of what was going on in my life. No teenager should ever have to do that or feel that way. No young girl should ever have to go through what I went through, and I guarantee a later post about the current “rape culture” throughout the U.S.

The Suicide Prevention Hotline is available 24/7. If you need a reason to keep living, please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

Safe Horizons is a phenomenal group that helps women and child who have been abused in any way. Their phone number is 1-800-621-HOPE (4673).

*NOTE: I am in no way a paid spokesperson for The Suicide Prevention Hotline, or Safe Horizons; I am just telling my story.

I am also in no way condoning teenagers having sex. I made a lot of very poor choices as a teenager, and would strongly suggest to anyone who asks to wait until you are in a serious, committed, safe, and consensual relationship with someone you truly love before having sex.


First of all, cooool! I really didn’t know how I was going to feel about this site at first, but I’m definitely more and more cool with it after scrolling around last night.Like I mentioned before, I’ve been a pretty avid tumblr user for several years, and I never thought I’d like this site as much. Now, if only wordpress had a Blackberry app, we’d be in some super business!

I’m really excited to start this new journey in my life, and I can’t wait to talk about it with Tim when he gets home! (Military training took daddy away from home for a little while; Ryelee, our daughter, says “daddy working” and salutes!) This is the first step in starting my dream of being an author. Here goes nothing.

First Entry_June 10th, 2015

Today marks an interesting day for me. I have officially decided to start a real blog. I’ve had a tumblr since I was in high school, but this one will be different. Let me explain:

First, if you’re actually reading this, HI! My name is Kelly. As of today, I am 22 years old. I have an (almost) two year old daughter, who is the smartest toddler I have ever met, and a fiance who is in as many dangerous professions as humanly possible (Army National Guard, Security Guard, EMT, and Firefighter). I am the administrative assistant and unofficial legalities handler for a structural steel company. I have not graduated from college, yet. I have never been happier with where my life is at. My fiance, Tim, and I are currently planning our wedding for August 6th, 2016. I have recently gotten reacquainted with my bible (and I actually mean the bible; TNIV college devotional style). Let me say that I am no perfect Christian. Since I mentioned before that I have a two year old, I clearly had sex and a child out of wedlock. My daughter’s father is my fiance. We have been together for three years (don’t do the math of having a two year old daughter)… I have a phenomenal sense of humor, and love the life I live. It took a LOT to get to this point in my life, and, I think, I am finally ready to open up about my struggles. I have lots of hopes, dreams, and aspirations to one day be a role model and public speaker for preteen and teenagers. This could quite possibly be one of the most difficult things I have ever done, but here comes the boom…. (<- here is where my awesome personality and sense of humor will shine. I hope you’re ready for it)!

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