If I Could Write a Letter to Me..

“And I’d end by saying have no fear, These are nowhere near the best years of your life.” -Brad Paisley

Dear 15 year-old me,

There is so much that you don’t know. You think you do, but it’s just the stubbornness in your head. I know you can’t wait to grow up. You’ve been counting down the days till you turn 16, since you were 14 years old. Remember to cherish these next few years. You’re a freshman in high school. Even though you’re senior year seems forever away, it’s not. Don’t wish it away.

The next couple of years will be the best years of your life. You’ll get your license, make some of the best memories with some life-long friends, fall in love, enjoy different successes in and out of the classroom. Speaking of classroom, pay more attention. Yes, you are smart. Smarter than you’ll ever know. So, put forth a little more effort and pull those grades up. Your parents, friends, and family, have worked too hard and invested too much in your private school education, for you to goof off and not do better.

You have big dreams. You want to play basketball at the next level. And you CAN. You SHOULD. People will tell you that you aren’t good enough, that you don’t have the desire. PROVE THEM WRONG. Work your ass off. Go to the gym every spare second of the day. All of those early morning workouts that you’ve been putting in, will pay off…be patient. Don’t quit. That is what everyone expects. Never give up on your dreams. There will be a time that you believe that you are “burnt out” with ball. That is not true. You are afraid to be great. Have no fear. When you are a Junior in high school, you will suffer ANOTHER torn ACL. It will suck. You won’t finish the season, and you will be in therapy for months. Work hard. You will come back, but when you do, play with no hesitation. College scouts will be at your games. Impress them with your heart and ability, and make them feel that they NEED you. And when that time comes, that they offer you a full-ride scholarship….take it. I know that you won’t, and that you think you won’t regret it…but, in 8 years…you will.

Guard your heart, but not too closely. You will fall in love when you are 16. It will be all consuming. It will also break you down, build you up, tear you apart, give you the highest high, and take you to your lowest low. He will try to control you, in every way. And you will let him, to a certain point. Everyone will tell you that this relationship is toxic. And at times, it is. But, you need to experience it NOW. He will take you on grand adventures, you’ll see the world when you are with him. All of the time spent with him is not wasted. You balance each other. Opposites attract. But, don’t lose yourself in him. Don’t rely on him to complete you. And when he betrays you the first time, make that be the last time. You are stubborn, so it will continue for the next 8 years. There will be so much heartache, and pain…but remember, if he really loves you, he wouldn’t treat you this way or put you through your own personal hell.

The friends that you surround yourself with now, will still be there for you in the next 8+ years. The friendships and bonds that you make during softball and basketball season, will be unlike any other. Stay up all night before a basketball tournament in Macon, and gossip with them. When you go to softball camp before your junior year of high school, take the younger girls under your wing and talk to them. Make home videos that parody the local news, stay out late, take road trips, and go to sonic before every late basketball practice. Cherish them. Tell them you love them. Thank them for always being there. You’ll end up leaving Albany, but you’ll always have them.

When you graduate, you’ll get a job. Yes…a JOB. An 8-5 job, and you’ll also be a full time student. You’ll do this for the next 7+ years. And yes, it will suck. But, you will learn to take care of yourself. You’ll become independent. So when you do FINALLY graduate from college, you have real world working experience. Your resume will consist of 6+ years of banking experience, and 2 years of marketing/PR. That is something that most 26 year olds will NOT have. Be proud of yourself. You put yourself through college, on your own. You’ve bought 2 cars, paid rent and bills, and you did it all on your own.

You’ll move to Tifton, GA. Yeah. That tiny little town that doesn’t even have a Target. This is where you will find yourself. That boy you thought you loved, will leave. You’ll be alone. At least you feel that way. But luckily, you have a strong support system from friends you made while in college and from working in Tifton. They will become your family, and you will be become a part of theirs. You will meet the most incredible people while in Tifton. You will make many, many mistakes. When that boy you loved leaves, let him. You will meet someone that you can’t see yourself ever living without. They will test you, challenge you, make you more mad and confused than you ever have been before. You won’t understand why..and truth be told, at 26, you will still be trying to understand. You will hit rock bottom. And that person will be there to see you through. You don’t need saving, but it is reassuring to know that someone could. You won’t be married at 24, like you always said you would. YOU WILL BE OKAY. Learn to be happy with who you are. Figure out what you want to do for the next 50 years. You have the rest of your life to be married, and settled down.

Lastly, the only fear you will ever have is failure. And failure is not an option.

-Sincerely-

26 year-old me

Why I Don’t Believe in True Love

“A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave” -Elizabeth Gilbert

 

When I was a little girl, I would watch Disney movies. Just like every other girl in the world. I knew them all. Cinderella, Snow White, Aladdin, Sleeping Beauty, and the list could go on for days. I dreamed of the day that a boy would find my shoe that I left behind, and come chasing after me. Or, that I would be rescued from the life I had, and be taken on a magic carpet ride to explore my wildest dreams. Obviously, I grew up. But I never stopped believing in fairy tales, and didn’t want to give up the thought that I would meet my prince.

It all begins when we are children. Our parents, family, and everyone else in the word tells you, “One day your prince will come, and life will be forever changed.” You dream of falling in love. You become consumed by it. I can remember when I was in middle school, thinking that I was in love with someone. And that someone changed, every 2 weeks. The movies that I watched, stories that I read, and television shows that I never missed, all gave me a false view of what true love was/is.

Most Disney movies involve a damsel in distress and a hero that comes to save her. Especially older films. Nicholas Sparks’ books are usually about the power of true love, and how it can conquer anything, literally. Some of my favorite television shows (One Tree Hill, Grey’s Anatomy, Boy Meets World, etc.) have a common theme. Love and relationships. So, if I watch these movies, read these books, and tune in to my favorite shows, why don’t I believe in true love?

The world has taught me that true love is a constant battle. And at times, it can be. But, love shouldn’t be something that is difficult. It should come naturally. In fact, it should be so easy that you never realize you WEREN’T in love with someone in the first place. Girls have this thought in their head that they should be fought for. If they walk away, their one true love should come chasing after them. In my mind, if you actually love someone, you won’t walk away in the first place. You shouldn’t want to walk away. Hollywood makes love seem so…. difficult. That if you aren’t fighting, arguing, and having insane drama, you aren’t actually in love. But once again, why would you want to argue and fight with someone that you can’t see yourself living without? Love is not some super power. It can’t make you fly, read people’s minds, or make you invisible. It’s just the opposite. You’re vulnerable, scared, and worried, because you are trusting one person. Trusting that they won’t use you, abuse you, or make you feel worthless.

I don’t believe in true love. At least not how it is portrayed in movies, books, or television. I know that loving someone shouldn’t be hard. It comes naturally. Accepting someone, and all of their flaws, is the most difficult part about it. And trusting that they won’t hurt you is even worse. I’ve been there, and done that. 3 times, to be exact. I think that true love is hard. And easy. And confusing. And one of those rare things that no one can really explain. I still don’t know what “true love” is. It’s like Big Foot. At least in my mind. Everyone looks for it, but no one has ever really found it. Or have they?

Rylee Wells, Berkley Gunner & Finlee Marie

“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.”- Josh Billings

If you happen to be my friend on Facebook or follow me on instagram or twitter, you know (very well) that I have 2 babies. Fur babies. Both of whom I love immensely. I was eating with my family a few weeks ago and we began discussing how I got over my fear of dogs, and just how terrified I used to be of them. The story goes, I was at some festival (no surprise there, my family was always dragging me to festivals within a 60 mile radius of Albany) when a HUGE dog came running after me. Naturally, I ran for my life. I’m sure he was the size of a horse in my little eyes. Like Cujo or something. My granddad ran after me, scooped me up in his arms and comforted me, as my short life was flashing before my eyes. At that very moment, I HATED dogs. Couldn’t stand them. Not even the little ones. Now, for some reason, I would still ask my parents for a dog EVERY Christmas. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I thought my own personal dog would be nice? Who knows. I was a dumb kid. But, every year I got the same response: “You know you and your sister are allergic to pets. We can’t have any.” Well, I found out when I was around 19 that this was a LIE and my mother just doesn’t like animals. Go figure.

I turned into a dog lover after my highschool boyfriend introduced me to his sweet cocker spaniel. Miss Annie was the best. Well, I had to get one. He surprised me with an English Cocker spaniel for Christmas. I decided to name him Rylee Wells. Oh, I LOVED my sweet Rylee man. I made him the laziest, most spoiled dog on earth. He was so sweet and gentle. Annie loved him, too! Well, one night we had a “little” get together. Someone left the back gate open, which goes out into a busier off road. We would leave the dogs in the backyard while we were at work or in class, so that they could roam around. I will never forget that phone call that I got from my then-boyfriend. He told me I needed to come home immediately from work. I hurried home and found him in the driveway, visibly upset and shaken. I then looked in the backyard and saw Rylee laying by the fence. I lost it. Rylee had ran out of the yard and was run over. At least someone had the kindness in their heart to move him out of the road, or he would’ve looked much worse than he did. My heart was broken. We burried Rylee behind the house. I made sure he had his blanket, his favorite toy, and his halloween costume with him. I even made him a headstone. I didn’t do much of anything the next few days. I never knew that a dog could have that kind of affect on a person.

After the horrific loss of Rylee, I didn’t want another dog. That didn’t stop my boyfriend at the time. He sent me a picture of some sweet english setter puppies one day, while I was at work. They were adorable. Next thing I know, he’s driving to a place called Tiger, Georgia to get this sweet puppy. He and his friend returned, but had 2 puppies. His friend fell in love with one while he was up there, so he just had to get one too! I came home to a sweet black and white spotted english setter. I loved the name “Berkley” but just wasn’t sure if I would call a dog that. I decided he would be named Berkley Gunner, and we would call him Gunner. Me and Gunner have been through A LOT together. He’s my number one man. He’s just as lazy and loving as the first night he was with us. He’s moved with me 4 times, had 2 different “daddies” and 2 different sisters. Bless his heart. I love that little dog more than I love a lot of people. I talk to him like he’s human.

Some fun Gunner facts:: He doesn’t lick. Ever. Stick out your hand? He won’t lick it. He also LOVES to eat underwear. Whole. Some dogs just chew them and shred them. Not Gunner. Eats them whole, and we find it in the yard a couple days later. His favorite human snack is popcorn. I can’t pop a bag without him immediately coming to the kitchen. He loves to cuddle. He will NOT go outside in the mornings if it’s cold. His birthday is April 12th, 2009. He was an Easter baby 🙂

After Garrett and I started dating, we talked about getting another dog. I was living in a rather spacious apartment, and we thought Gunner might enjoy the companionship. We wanted to rescue a dog, so we looked at all different animal shelters in the area. We found several, and I even visited a few of them. My friend Sarah text me one day, asking if we were serious about wanting a puppy. She told me that one of her husband’s coworkers had a dog that just had a litter. They were Springer/Boykin mixed spaniels. OMG. It was fate. We drove out on a rainy Saturday to see the sweet baby pups. On the way there, Garrett told me: “I don’t want one that is spotted. It needs to be a girl, and she needs to be a solid color.” Well, he quickly changed his mind once we got there. We picked up a sweet little girl, who had a big brown spot across her back. It was love at first sight. We decided we would take her, but couldn’t get her for another few weeks. We thought about names on the way back home. Garrett came up with “Finlee” and I came up with “Marie,” so she was dubbed “Finlee Marie Watson.” Once Miss Finlee came on the scene, our lives changed forever. You would think that I was talking about a human child when I say that, but she was/is a holy terror. She was into everything. Wild as could be. SO much energy. But, we wouldn’t trade her for anything. She is definitely a daddy’s girl.

Some fun FinleeMarie facts:: Finlee LICKS everything. Your face, toes, hands, clothes..EVERYTHING. She sits in windows, behind curtains. She literally watches TV. We’ve caught her on several occasions, gazing at the screen. She only likes to watch The Walking Dead though. She “talks” to us regularly. We can look at her and ask her, “What? Is there something you want to say?” She immediately barks, growls, and actually mumbles to us. She ADORES squeaky toys. Even at 3AM.  Her birthday is April 26, 2013 🙂

Some people will say that dogs can’t be family or children. I don’t understand that. My dogs are all I have. I care for them. I feed them, teach them, walk them, potty train them.. how are they NOT my children? My dogs are better behaved than some of the kids I know. I look forward to the day when I do have kids, but until then, I am just fine with my fur babies.

Hello.. My name is Erin.. And I’m an addict..

““Whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction.” William S Burroughs

I know what you’re thinking. “Oh, awesome. Erin is addicted something. What is it? Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? Hmm..” Well, none of those are true. So sorry to disappoint. I’m addicted to Social Media. Like the rest of the world. Seriously. So, how did I get here? Let’s take a journey of my addiction, shall we?

In 2003ish, I first heard about MySpace. Don’t laugh. You know you had one too. And you jazzed it up with all kinds of funky backgrounds and a streaming playlist of the latest pop tunes. Your Top 8 friends were constantly changing, due to the fact that everyone was signing up for MySpace. Your default picture HAD to be perfect. Taken at a certain height and angle. Yes, I’m serious. MySpace was awesome. I had just let go of my AIM (AOL instant messenger, for all those who are too young to know), so this filled the void that I was missing. Oh glory.

I had first heard about Facebook in fall of 2005. It was exclusive to college students only. Bummer. Being a Senior in high school, that only meant I had to wait ANOTHER YEAR. Oh well. I could wait. But then, something glorious happened. They opened it up to high school students, who could prove that they were in high school. Glory be to the heavens! I IMMEDIATELY signed up. Another girl in my class at SCA signed up, too. We were “friends” before the end of the day. My boyfriend at the time was less than happy about it. He creeped on my newly established page and cornered me saying, “What the hell is FACEBOOK? And why does it say you are interested in MEN?!” Well…. clearly I’m not interested in women, but I attempted to explain it. He was over it. More and more of my friends signed up. It was ONLY available on PCs and laptops… cause smartphones didn’t really exist at the time (which was only 9 years ago, btw). My greatest thrill was getting on at school. Yep. Our school offered laptops. They had blocked MySpace, but not FACEBOOK! Whoop! Beat the system! I loved the simplicity of it. Write on someone’s wall, upload pictures, “poke” them. Yes. It’s gone through a bajillion changes, and everyone “hates” it, but everyone still uses it. Daily. Multiple times. An hour.

I was a late Twitter user. Didn’t really see the point in it. But, in 2008 I signed up and “tweeted.” It didn’t last long. But, I use it from time to time. I like that you can follow people, but then again, if you have a Facebook… why do you need a twitter? And vice versa? Oh well. It’s not my favorite, but I still use it. Just to follow the HILARIOUS twitter shenanigans.

Pinterest. Oh. Sweet. Lord. Hours are spent here. HOURS. DAYS. I’m a fairly creative person, so Pinterest is by far one of my favorite go-to websites/apps. I have found a THOUSAND different ways to use mason jars, burlap, and chalkboard paint. Seriously. Some of my greatest achievements in the craft world have started with a fun filled day browsing Pinterest. Also, you can find my future house, wedding, kids, husband, clothes, job, car, etc.. on a pin board that I have started. My life is going to be perf.

Have I mentioned how much I LOVE pictures? Cause I do. And if you are friends with me on Facebook or Instagram, you will see that. I’ve always loved pictures. ALWAYS. I have close to 3,000 pictures on Facebook (some are hidden) and around 1,500ish on Instagram. When Instagram was FINALLY available for Androids, I literally screamed like a little girl. YAY!! So excited to take pictures of EVERYTHING. Me, my friends, my dogs, my boyfriend, my food, my apartment, my crafts, my pen, a random man walking down the street.. TAKE PICTURES OF EVERYTHING! YES! PUT A FILTER ON! YES! Lo-Fi? NO… Sierra? NO… X-Pro II? YES! That ONE! I look so tan!!

I participate in a couple more social media worlds. Vine… LinkedIn…Snapchat (is this SM? YES!). I’m really addicted. I kept up with how many times I looked at FB and Instagram while I was writing this blog. It took me a total of 25 minutes to write it, and I looked at FB 3 times and Instagram twice. Clearly I have a problem. And I know I’m not the only one. I’ve tried to “quit.” Really. I’ve deleted FB more times than I know. I just keep coming back. Social media has a hold on me. I share too much, too often. But, if it weren’t for Social Media… I wouldn’t have the job(s) I have. They are PERFECT for businesses. So I guess it’s good that I am “good” at Social Media.

I guess what my problem is, we’ve become a world so focused on “how many likes” we will get on statuses, pictures, links, etc. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard “Ugh, no one is liking my new picture,” or “This status is going to get at least 50 likes.” I will admit that I’m guilty myself at times. Why are we so worried about it? It’s like we are getting approval by others, that we are pretty, or funny. Ugh. I worry more for younger kids. All they know is social media. They don’t have to pass notes anymore in school, or call each other and talk on the phone for hours every night. They don’t even have to TALK to each other about what is going on anymore. It’s all there on FB, Twitter, Instagram, Vine.. EVERYWHERE. I don’t want my kids to grow up in a world that they know EVERYONE before they meet someone. I find myself saying, “Oh yeah I know him/her. Well, I Facebook know them. We are friends on there. We met at the bar and stood by each other.” I don’t KNOW them. I know what they put on FB, but I don’t know them. Oy. I’m going to challenge myself to disconnect more. I have to. I need to. Or else there is going to be no point in even having direct contact with any of you. You’ll know about it when I post in on Facebook or Instagram in 10 minutes. 😉

Here’s a little challenge for you…For one day, count how many times you use social media. Seriously. It will SHOCK YOU.

Time flies…

“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”- Mother Teresa

Somewhere between Thanksgiving and New Years, time sped up and everything is a blur. I had an amazing holiday season, and I hope you all did too! Here is a quick recap of the last couple of months in my life::

Thanksgiving was great! I was able to spend lunch with Garrett, my family, and my sister’s in-laws, which have also become family to me. We ate too much, of course. It’s always fun to get together with them and enjoy each others company. Last year, I called up my friend Kendyl and we went Black Friday shopping, so I decided that was a tradition I wanted to continue. I rounded up Kendyl, Lauren, and Haley, all of who are dear friends of mine that have known me since middle school, and we met on Thursday night. Haley and I started at Kohl’s, where I set out to find my parents a flat screen TV, and she was on the lookout for a Keurig and some small appliances for her new apartment! We lucked up and got exactly what we wanted! We also ventured to Wal-Mart, Target, and the mall! We met Kendyl and Lauren at the mall, and did some more shopping! I LOVE that I got to spend time with these special ladies. It’s a tradition that I hope we can continue every year!

Christmas came and went… like literally. The month of December is a COMPLETE blur. I had to take finals the first week, spent the second week catching up on work and starting a new part time venture with a local boutique, used the third week to finish Christmas shopping and spending that weekend at our annual extended family Christmas. Santa was very good to me this year 🙂 I got clothes, decorative items, shoes, and all other kinds of stuff. Garrett spoiled me rotten by buying me the Tory Burch bag I had been salivating over for months.

Garrett and I celebrated being together for a WHOLE YEAR on December 30th. I was surprised with flowers and we went out to eat, and watched movies the rest of the night. Never in my life did I think I would be in love with Garrett. Funny how things change 😉 He has dealt with far more than any other significant other should, and put up with entirely too much of my crap. Bless him for it. I know that I am MORE than a handful, but he chooses to love me in spite of it.

New Years Eve is usually a big deal for me. I can usually be found at the local bar, drinking my weight in vodka cranberries, and guzzling down champagne at midnight. This year, not so much. We stayed at home, cleaned my house, ordered pizza, watched movies and the Walking Dead marathon. I actually fell asleep at 10:30. I just couldn’t hang this year. Garrett woke me up at 11:50 so I could watch the ball drop, and at 12:02 I told him to turn the TV off. I was over it. Clearly a sign that 25 has made me OLD. On New Years Day we went to my parents house and enjoyed the traditional New Year meal. Greens, black eyed peas..blah blah. I don’t eat EITHER of those. So, I’m always having bad luck and no money. I just consider it a challenge to overcome the superstition. 😉

2014 is going to be a big year for me. Mainly because I will FINALLY graduate from college. From a previous post about college, you know how big a deal this is. I’ve been in college forever….kinda. I’m SUPER excited to be nearing the end, but I’m also terrified. People are asking me what I’m going to do after. Uh, the same exact thing I’ve been doing the last 6 years. Work full-time. Duh. And tack on a student loan payment. Sheesh. I will also be celebrating making it through my quarter life crisis! Hopefully I will be traveling by sea to Turks and Caicos in celebration of my graduation! I’m looking forward to 2014. I think it’s going to be one for the books, y’all!

My New Year Resoltion’s consist of::

1.) Attend church more often..

2.) Clean up my language… seriously. It’s like a sailor

3.) Eat better and exercise more..

4.) Drink less Coke and Mountain Dew.. cause I was drinking about 4 Mountain Dews and probably around 10 Cokes a day. I’m shocked my kidneys are even still functioning.

5.) Worry less…Stress Less.. Enjoy life more.

“Christmas is coming, but I’m not happy..”

“I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I’m not happy. I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to feel”-Charlie Brown, A Charlie Brown Christmas

I’ve ALWAYS loved Christmas. And I mean LOVED it. From the decorations to the real reason we celebrate Christmas, I have been intrigued by it ever since I was old enough to make memories. Except for last year. Last year was pretty terrible. Correction… it was awful. Probably one of the worst Christmases I’ve ever experienced. I’m a HUGE believer in tradition and routines. When my routine gets messed up, I get quite irritable and very upset.

My childhood Christmas memories consist of a few things. My family would have a huge get together and have “family Christmas” on the weekend before Christmas day. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would come to my grandparent’s house in Albany, and usually stay all weekend, or longer. I loved this time of year. I got to see family that I don’t get to see often, and everyone is happy and laughing. It always felt right. We would enjoy fabulous southern home cooking, open presents, and then spend the rest of the time enjoying each others company. After my grandparents passed away, we changed things up a little bit. We started rotating family Christmas to different houses. I wasn’t a huge fan of this change, but no one asks the baby what she wants 🙂  We still gather together, every year. We eat too much, laugh too hard, and then it’s over. That weekend never lasts as long as it should.

Probably the best memory, and most vivid one of my childhood Christmas, is Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Christmas Eve consisted of going to church for Christmas Eve service, then coming home and my dad reading the REAL Christmas story to my sister and I. We would then leave Santa cookies and milk, and leave the reindeer apples. On Christmas morning, my grandparents would come to our house..EARLY. At least it always felt early. I would hear… “Ho, Ho, Ho!!” in a deep voice, coming down the hall towards my room. Next thing I knew, my grandaddy was in my room with one of those HUGE camcorders blinding me in the face, hoping to get my initial reaction of excitement. My sister would be barely be awake, and we would slowly make our way to the living room to see what all “Santa” had brought us. We always had more than enough, and probably too many presents to sort through. Clothes, toys, electronics, bikes, basketball goals, jewelry..everything. After that, we would head to my grandparents house. Lo (my grandma) would fix a HUGE breakfast, and then we would open a couple gifts there. After breakfast, we would head back home, sort through our presents, and lay them out on our beds. FINALLY, my grandparents came BACK over and we had a late lunch/early supper.

As we got older, Christmas began to change. My sister was in college and living in Valdosta, and I was spending more time with my boyfriend than I was with my family. We got into a new routine after my sister got married and had my nephew. We started celebrating Christmas at night with my family. Christmas morning I would go to my boyfriend’s house, open gifts with his family. We would have breakfast, then head over to his Dad’s family Christmas in Sylvester. After a few hours there, we would drive to Albany to have another Christmas with my family. After eating supper and opening gifts, we would return to his parent’s house and spend the night. Those Christmas’ were special. We were constantly on the go, but I enjoyed seeing everyone and spending time with them.

Well, last year was different. After the life changing break-up, I knew that Christmas was going to suck. So, what did I do? I went home for Christmas Eve, did some shopping, sang my solo at church, and stayed with my parents. I took some sleeping aides, so that I would sleep long enough, that I wouldn’t notice that I missed “Christmas morning.” I drove back to Tifton after that, and slept most of the day. I knew that if I slept, I wouldn’t think about the people I missed, or the traditions I was accustomed to. I finally woke up, got ready, and my parents arrived at my house. We ended up having Christmas in Valdosta last year, at my sisters house. We had our usual Christmas supper, and opened gifts. It just wasn’t the same. No matter how hard I tried to get into the spirit, I couldn’t. I didn’t even have a tree at my house, which is SO not me.

I decided that this year would be different. After last year’s catastrophe, I was determined that this year would be better. Well, I was right. It’s completely different. I get to celebrate my first Christmas with Garrett. I am so excited, that I can hardly stand it. I put up a tree this year, sort of. I didn’t have any room in my tiny-house, so I had to make one on the wall (we’ll cover that in another blog later). I decorated the outside of my house, started burning evergreen scented candles in October, and even went black friday shopping with all of the other crazy people in this country. Even though my mom has to work on Christmas this year, I am determined to make things as normal as possible. I was a total Grinch last year, and hated it. This year will be different. I can’t wait to see my family, and make new memories with Garrett. It’s amazing at what a difference a year can make.

The Typical “Thanksgiving” Post.

When I logged into Facebook on November 1st, my news feed was FILLED with: “Day 1: I’m thankful for my family…” “Day 1: I’m thankful for my husband/wife” “Day 1: I’m thankful for my right big toe.” Ok, maybe the last one is extreme. You get my drift. All of these people were posting something different that they were thankful for, each day of November. It’s a catchy idea. Broadcast to others the things you’re thankful for. Make it known that you are a “thoughtful” person, for being thankful for all of these things. I decided to not go that route. Why? A couple reasons… 1.) Garrett says I post too much, and too often on Facebook already, 2.) I tend to not follow the crowd. SO, of course I’m going to tell you what I’m thankful for on this post, and also give you a look into what Thanksgiving means to me 🙂

The first Thanksgiving I really remember was when I was around the age of 5. I think I remember this one so well because it was when I was in school and we had a Thanksgiving Program. I was a pilgrim. And we sang the sweetest little song, “The Pilgrims.. and the Indians… gave thanks, a long time agooooo…” that’s all I can remember. Give me break. I was very excited about the program, and the fact that we got out of school for 3 days. My mom woke me up on Thanksgiving morning, telling me that Barney was flying in a parade. WHAT?! How is that even possible!? Ecstatic, I began watching my first Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. A tradition was born. I have watched that parade for the last 20 years, religiously. My family would then get ready and go to my grandparents house for a FEAST.

There was always some type of “issue” on important holidays, though. Something would go wrong. Always. I wouldn’t be able to find my dress, or shirt that my mom wanted me to wear, Meg’s hot rollers wouldn’t heat, Dad would burn a hole in his shirt from the pipe that he smokes, or Mom’s pound cake would fall or get burnt on the bottom. It NEVER failed. We were always late for some reason or another. And my Mom would be furious because we made her late. When in reality, we all know it was Glo’s fault 😉  That’s what made the memories, though. Once we would arrive at my grandparents, I would wait impatiently for my cousins to arrive. My grandma would always make sure that I had english peas and chicken and dumplings, to eat. Since I didn’t eat hardly anything else, she knew that would satisfy me (yes, I’ve been spoiled my whole life). We would eat.. and eat… and eat. After lunch, my cousin and I would go down to the park, which was probably a mile or two, away. We would swing, play basketball, and drive each other crazy. Some of my best memories were made around Thanksgiving.

That’s what I want for my kids (if I ever decide to have them). I want them to know that Thanksgiving isn’t perfect. That sometimes, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and any other holiday, aren’t always pleasant. They aren’t ALWAYS filled with happiness. But, if you are surrounded by family.. you have plenty to be thankful for.

Things that I am Thankful for, In NO particular order:

Faith… Family… Friends… A job that I enjoy… 2 puppies who love me unconditionally.. A boyfriend, who has looked past all of my imperfections and crazy-absurdness, and still chooses to love me in spite of it all…. Mountain Dew… Chick-Fil-A… the man who invented spaghetti-o’s… Mark Zuckerburg… the ability to talk and see things…. Heartbreaks, because without them, I would be a miserable soul…. Cute clothes… Leggings, because I wear them daily… Boots… my Jeep… Electricity & “clean” running  water…. Shelter… Chicken… Pasta… the person who invented texting… Snapchat…. ABAC, because of all of the wonderful people I met while I was there…. Henry Harding Tift, who founded Tifton… New Orleans, and all of its gloriousness that I miss so much… Cameras & Pictures…. Unexpected people who have made an incredible impact on my life in the last couple years… Pandora & Spotify…. Steve Jobs’ brain and innovation…

What are you thankful for?

“You’re my Heart…” For my Daddy.

**Let me be honest. Brutally honest. I’ve never really been much of a “daddy’s girl.” Not because I don’t love my dad.. I do. I just never really considered myself to be one. I’ve been thinking about this post for a while now. I feel like I finally have the right words, so here goes nothin’.**

My dad. Words cannot describe my father. And if you know him, you know that’s true. So, let’s start with some background info, shall we? Charles Parker is my daddy. Better known to the world as “Chuck.” He was born in September. He has an older sister. Most of my friends don’t know that. My Aunt Reba (not the country singer, unfortunately) lives near Atlanta, with her husband. They don’t have any children. My dad’s parents were known to me as PawPaw (Euree was his name, and hopefully that’s how you spell it) and Granny (Sue). PawPaw died when I was around the age of 7 or 8. I remember him vividly. He collected change for my sister and I, and would give it to us when we would visit. I would count the change over and over, thinking about what I was going to spend it on. He was an incredibly kind man, whom I wish I could have known longer. My Granny is in a nursing home in Leesburg. I wish that I could say that I visited her often, but I don’t. One of the most horrific childhood memories I have involves her. She sent me birthday money for my 5th or 6th birthday. I called her home to tell her thank you; “Hey Granny! This is Erin. Thank you for my money!” is what I told her. Her response: “I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong number.” She hung up. Confused, I told my mom. She said that Granny probably couldn’t hear me or didn’t understand, so I called back. Again, I said: “”Hey Granny! This is Erin. Thank you for my birthday money!” Her response: “I’m sorry, but you still have the wrong number.” I never called back. I still visited when my dad went over, but that memory has never left me. And probably never will. Scared for life.    ANYWAY.. when my dad was 17, he was involved in a car accident. A bad one. From the stories I have heard all of my life, he had been to a party with his high school girlfriend. He dropped her off, and on his way home was involved in a head on collision. He was thrown several feet from his car, and landed on his head, from what I can remember. He was in the hospital, unconscious for months. Doctors told his parents that he would never walk, talk, or live a normal life. Boy, did he prove them wrong.

My parents got married in 1976. By daddy’s account, my mother was just “begging” for him to spend the rest of his life with her 😉 My dad worked at the Marine Base (MCLB) in Albany, at the commissary. My sister was born in 1981. I’ve never really heard if she was planned, but I do believe that she was expected, unlike I was. I came into the world in 1988. Complete surprise to my parents. After I was born, my Grandma (otherwise known as Lois, or Lo) made the remark that I “had tulip lips like Chuck.” My dad loved to play with me. He would get in the floor with me and play checkers all of the time. We would play tic-tac-toe in restaurants while we waited on our food. We also LOVED to watch the Braves together. My mom tells a story about my dad throwing me up in the air and catching me, like every other father does with their child. Well, one time when he threw me in the air, he accidentally caught me in the eye on the way down. His finger went completely in my eye socket :O Makes me sick thinking about it. He panicked. They rushed me to the ER, and I was fine. That’s one of the only times my dad has ever cried. I loved Mickey Mouse. So, he gave me the nickname “Mick Mouse” which he still uses today. I would make him sit outside of our house and read the newspaper when I got home from school, so I could have someone watch me ride my bike. He is also a member at Tony’s Gym in Albany, and has been since they opened. Seriously. That’s been almost 30 years. Did I mention that he worked at night? He would pick me up from school, go home, get ready for work and leave right after my mom got home. I would fall asleep in their bed, and he would carry me to my bed, when he got home. As I got older, so did he. I’m not sure how that happened, but it did. I soon realized that my dad wasn’t the same as everyone else.

I’m not sure when I came to the conclusion that my dad was “not okay.” I’m really not sure when it got bad. I remember there was a time when he didn’t have to use a walking cane, but that’s been ages ago. My daddy has deteriorating discs in his back. He retired because of his disability in 2004. A few years before that, I remember him being fine. After retiring, he would come to my basketball games. Usually just the home ones, because he couldn’t ride in the car for very long. I remember the embarrassment I felt when he would walk on the court, because he couldn’t manage to walk behind the players with his cane. I now feel ashamed that I was ever embarrassed. He was always loud. Perhaps the loudest parent. But always at the worst time, of course. All my friends loved him. I won’t ever forget that horror that I felt when some of the guys in my grade started going to Tony’s to work out, and told me all kinds of embarrassing things about my dad. I just wanted to die. I couldn’t keep him from going to the gym, because he was able to workout and possibly get stronger. My senior year, I was elected to the homecoming court. The only thing I could think about was how was my dad going to walk me onto the field? I thought for sure he would stumble and make me fall in the process. Luckily, that didn’t happen. After high school, his health got worse. Physically, that is. He is healthy as a horse, but his legs and back are the problem. He has had knee replacements, takes daily medicine for pain, etc. Fast forward to the last month. My dad has fallen twice. Once at their apartment, where he busted his head open trying to get the mail. We told him to take it easy, and just wait for mom to get home to check the mail. Then last week, I got a text from my mom saying “heading to ER with your daddy.” My heart stopped. I called, no answer. Called my sister, she knew nothing yet. Called my aunt, she was with my mom. My sister called back and said that he had fallen at a convenience store in Albany, and customers had found him bleeding on the sidewalk. I lost it. Absolutely lost it. I’m not sure why, but I was a sobbing mess. I think it was because I could picture him, helpless on the sidewalk. Unable to move. Bleeding and scared. Luckily, he is okay. He has to use a walker. I think he is embarrassed by it, which is why he won’t use it. But, if it will keep him from falling and breaking his neck, that’s the most important thing.

In the last 5 years, 4 of my closest girlfriends, who are all around my age, have lost their fathers. All 4 were tragic, unexpected, and horrific. All of these girls were daddy’s girls. And one of them told me, “All I can say is, hold on to your dad a little longer next time you hug him.” Even though I’ve never considered myself to be a “daddy’s girl,” I’m beginning to wonder if I am. I’m the baby of our family. He has always given in to me, because he loves me and wants me to be happy. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if something worse would have happened the other night. It’s scary to even think about. I worry daily about him. Has he fallen? Is he ok? Does he have his phone in case something happens? But, I’m thankful that I am able to worry about him. There is one thing that a girl looks forward to her whole life. Her daddy walking her down the aisle. My 4 friends were not/will not be able to experience that. I want my children to know their PopPop (that’s what my nephew has named him). I wasn’t able to grow up with my PawPaw, and I wish I had known him. I don’t want my kids to wonder what he was like. I know that he won’t be able to play with them, chase them around the yard, or even let them ride on his shoulders, but he will able to hold them, and collect change in jar for them.

My dad has always told me, “You’re my heart.” Always. To my knowledge, he’s never told my sister, or anyone else that. So, I want to tell him that he is my heart, and that I love him very much. And I think I speak for my 4 friends when I say, if your father is still around, be thankful and hug him a little longer next time you see him.

Let me tell you ’bout my best friend…

“Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart”-Eleanor Roosevelt

I’ve always considered myself to be a “friendly” person. I’ve always had friends, hence why I think I’m friendly. I can’t remember a time in my life that I didn’t have someone that I could talk to or depend on. This week, my bestest (yes, that’s a word) friend is going become a new mother. I would like to think that we are more like sisters than friends.

I met Lacey when I was a baby. No, really. We were probably 3 months old when we first “met.” It wasn’t until the 3rd grade at Byne Memorial Baptist School, when I realized I had found my best friend for life. This tiny blonde haired girl bounced into my classroom. I was given the privilege of showing her the ropes. I was so excited to have someone new in my class, and the fact that she kind of looked like me was pretty cool too. Our friendship progressed over the years. We played recreation league softball, joined the school chorus, played JR Pro basketball, and were always side-by-side during lunch. I left Byne and transferred to Sherwood in 2000. I was deeply hurt that I had to leave Lacey and all my other friends behind. Luckily, we still played softball together on the weekends. A couple years later, Lacey came to Sherwood. I. Was. Ecstatic. Finally. My best friend was back in my life! We played basketball, softball, tennis, track, were always each others partners on projects (if we were in the same class), sat together at lunch, and rode Old Pretoria Road out going to and from Sonic. We shared so many laughs, and just as many tears. From tearing our ACL’s just months apart, to winning games, to heart breaks along the way, I can confidently say that Lacey is more than just a friend. She is my sister.

When I moved to Tifton, I knew that things would change. We probably wouldn’t talk as much, or see each other as much. But, I knew in my heart that she would ALWAYS be there when I needed her. No matter what time of night, what was going on in the world, I knew that if I needed someone to talk to, she would be there. She came to visit several times in Tifton. Then her visits became less. She met this guy. Some guy named Mike. I didn’t know SQUAT about him. She seemed happy. I was skeptical. Why, you ask? Because no one out there was good enough for Lacey. I knew what she was worth, but no guy would ever realize just how lucky he was. She deserved the best, and I was convinced that Mike (nor any other guy) would be right for her. I remember waking up to text message, containing a picture. “We’re ENGAGED!” From Lacey, who was sporting a beautiful diamond ring on her left hand. I was shocked, really. I couldn’t believe that my bestest friend in the world was getting married! I started thinking about Mike. You know, I really never spent any time with him. Maybe that’s why I had such reservations about the whole ordeal. Once I saw Lacey and Mike together, all the negative thoughts just disappeared. I could see it in his eyes. He really loved her. A lot. They just seemed happy and content. The more I got to know Mike, and figured out who he was/is, I can’t imagine Lacey with anyone else. And I can’t believe I ever doubted just how much he loved her. He is a wonderful husband and life partner for my bestest friend.  I was the maid of honor in their wedding. I was thrilled to be a part of their wedding. It was beautiful. And yes, I cried like a baby when she walked down the aisle.

When Lacey told me that she was expecting, I IMMEDIATELY began to jump up and down. Seriously. I have been telling her since their wedding day, that I needed a new baby to love on. Sweet, little Avery Elizabeth is due here any minute. Hopefully. And I can’t wait to hold her and kiss her and tell her how loved she is by so many people. I can’t wait to watch her grow up, and spoil her along the way. Lacey gets another title today. Mother. I cannot imagine the things that are running through her head. I would probably be a basket case. But, knowing Lacey… she’s probably just hanging out at the hospital. Getting frustrated and anxious about her baby girl. She is going to be a fabulous mother. I know that for a fact, because she has always taken care of me the best that she could.

Lacey and I have a friendship that is hard to come by. We can finish each others sentences. We won’t talk for a few weeks, but can text each other something totally random, and realize that the other was thinking the same thing. We can be miles apart and not see each other for months, but when we are brought together it is like nothing has ever changed. We pick right back up where we left off. If I had one wish for Avery, it would be that she is able to find a friendship like her mother and I have. It is important to have that one friend that will stick beside you no matter what. Lacey and I have made a TON of mistakes and bad decisions in life, but we never judge each other for it. We tell each other that it was stupid, laugh about it uncontrollably, and move on. We protect each other. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told her I would beat someone down if I needed to, and she has said the same. We dropped the “friends” line years ago. We are sisters. And I’m so very thankful that she is a part of my life.

Lacey, I love you oh so much and cannot wait to meet my niece!

My How Time Flies..

“And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time.” – Libby Bray

It’s hard to believe that this year is almost over. I mean really, wasn’t it just St. Patrick’s Day? I realized that with this year drawing to an end, it is also my one year anniversary of being at CooperCraft. Wow. It’s so hard to believe that this time last year, I was working at the bank. A place that had become my 2nd home for the greater part of my time in Tifton. I was absolutely content on being employed there for the rest of my life. I loved that place. And I still do. But, I knew that I didn’t want to be a customer service rep/teller the rest of my life. It is difficult to move up in the banking world, especially when you start from the bottom.

I first started working at the bank 2-weeks after I graduated high school. I was SO excited to get a good paying job, that would be flexible with my school schedule. Another plus were the holidays, weekends, and nights that I would have off. I couldn’t have asked for a better job while in college. I transferred locations when I moved to Tifton. I became unbelievably close to the employees there. I was considered part of their family. And I was the “baby.” I was the only one (at that time) that didn’t have a husband, kids, nor was I over the age of 30. I wasn’t even over the age of 20. If you ask them, they will tell you that they “raised me” while I worked there. In fact, I actually LIVED with 2 of my co-workers. They opened their homes and families to me, when I needed it the most. I have babysat their children, picked them up from daycare and school, took them shopping, worked on school projects, etc. I was completely satisfied with where I was. I loved the bank, the people in it, and my customers. However, I knew that I did not want to be stuck in a Teller/CSR position the rest of my life. Sure, it was great when I was young and only feeding, clothing, and sheltering myself. I was worried about the future though. I had/have big dreams. And being the young person I am, I wanted them to happen RIGHT THEN.

My friend Amanda contacted me one day in late October/early November about a job opening at her workplace. They were looking for someone to handle their marketing department and possibly move into a sales position. I didn’t really think much about it, but she insisted that I put my resume in. So, I did. I figured it couldn’t hurt. A few days later, I received a call. The owner of the company wanted to interview me. My stomach immediately began to churn. What was I THINKING?! I had a good job. A stable job. And in this economy, those are hard to come by.  I went for the interview. He asked me all the basic interview questions, and I apparently had the correct answer. I then met the sales manager. Spoke with him briefly, and left. Amanda text me and told me that they seemed to really like me, and I would probably get a call back. The next 2 weeks were a blur. I was in 2 weddings, working feverishly on school, and going through major transitions at the bank. Next thing I knew, I was being offered a job at CooperCraft. I was going to be their new “Marketing Specialist” and also deal some with the sales department. I was speechless when they offered it to me on that Thursday afternoon. I took a leap of faith, and signed the line. Immediately got in my car and said out loud.. “What in the hell did I just do.”

The next Monday, I put my resignation letter in my branch manager’s chair. I gave my 2-week notice and explained to her what was going on. I told her, “I just feel like this is right. I love the bank, and I love working here. But, I know deep in my gut that this opportunity isn’t going to come around again. If I am going to be successful and be taken serious, I need to go somewhere and grow up. Y’all have taken me under your wing and raised me. It’s time for me to fly from the nest.”  It was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I was leaving EVERYTHING that I knew. The last 6 1/2 years of my life, all I knew was banking. I was completely terrified. I think that I was more scared to leave my “family.” I was so afraid that everything would change. That they would be mad that I left, and not want anything to do with me afterward. Thankfully, this wasn’t the case. I’m still involved in each and every one of their lives. I go to the bank about 3 times a week (seriously).

I’ve often wondered if I made the right decision. But, then I look at what all I’ve accomplished. I’ve built a marketing department for a multimillion dollar company, from the ground up. I’ve been involved in corporate decisions, networked with people all over the state, and most recently, been promoted to more of a sales management position. I’m thankful for the experience I have had at CooperCraft. I’ve been blessed with wonderful boss’ who believe in me and encourage me daily.

Change is always scary. You never really know what is waiting on the other side of that decision. Sometimes, you just have to trust that everything will work out. Put it all in God’s hands, and know that He is in charge. I think that is what the real lesson was here. I’ve always tried to map out my life. I always knew what I wanted to be and how I wanted to do things. But, He has/had different plans. So I trusted Him.