Goodreads for Beaux Cooper and Dust? If I could do a 10 out of 5… I would, since that isn’t possible I give it a 5 out of 5….just know that it well exceeds my expectations for getting sucked into books.
If you know me, you know I don’t go for romance or sappy stories. If it has it in there already and it’s written well, please continue with it. I usually read, write and live in Science Fiction, Horror, and Fantasy. It’s really refreshing to lose yourself in someone else’s mind for a while. Let’s be real that is exactly what you get when you pick up a book. A peek into someone else’s mind.
I’m not going to lie, I was a little hesitant when Beaux emailed me and asked me if I wanted to do a review on her book. I didn’t want to be out of my league when it came to reviewing her book. I am so glad that I stepped outside of my comfort zone and took a ride to Wyoming with Austen. This is a modern western that kicks the city out the door and allows you to get lost in hard work and fresh air. My suggestion is to grab a copy, get a cup of coffee or hot cocoa, a blanket and get lost in this book.
When Austen comes to mix with the cowboys this is exactly what she needs. At the beginning she has to figure out where she fits in, when she shows how hard working she is it gives life to how much she truly belongs on the ranch. There is so much to find in this book, along with yourself. This was exactly what I needed to read. Please take the time and pre-order your copy. This is a book that soothing to the soul.
If you love Beaux Cooper’s writing please come back for her interview about Dust, this was such an awesome book, I had to know where did this idea come from? If you would like to know, please come back and see for yourself.
I’m not usually into chick power, I have to be honest with you I grew up with a roll model that shunned the idea. Until recently. I have started to find ladies that have the same humor as I do. There is a reason why I say this too. I’m an anti-social grump ass that has finally found an online magazine that fits the bill for being made by chicks for chicks.
I found this magazine perusing the classified adds for an online job where I could be closer to my family. I’m not saying that they don’t drive me crazy and that occasionally I need to put myself in time out on a daily basis too. I think that’s every mom, wife, spouse, daughter…..I’m stopping the list here because you get the point. This magazine has what I need to get a great giggle . The authors are witty, comical and have a great way of adding facts and real-life situations to their articles.
If you’re a snarky bat with a vag like me and you need a great laugh from great authors this is the place to be. Get over there check it out and get away from yourself for a minute with a good laugh and some great articles!
These are my beautiful, annoying, grumpy, silly, sad, and happy munchkins. When I was a teenager the one thing I did not want was to be a parent. Yup, kids were cool, you could get them all sugared up,
then send them home to crash for
mom and dad.
Let’s not lie we’ve all
done that to our siblings . I didn’t start out as a mom, I didn’t want to be a mom. In fact I was told at one point in my life I couldn’t be a mom by my doctor. I was perfectly fine with that. I wanted to be the carefree, pain in the ass, wonderer that traveled the globe looking for nothing but myself.
About the time that I decided to do that my sister came home and told us that she was pregnant. Hey! Right on! That’s awesome that you’re going to be a mom and I’m going to be an aunt. Let’s keep it that way, then I can still send it home to you at the end of the day! I was eighteen years old bitter that I had to work and couldn’t be drunk all the time. That was my life, I liked to party. Who doesn’t like to have a good time?
This was when I had hit the point that I hated everyone except for my immediate family. Didn’t you know I had it all figured out? This was when my niece Katie came. My mom, who was harder headed than I was, drug me into the delivery room to see everything that no one should share. I was absolutely grossed out, that is, until my sister was holding this beautiful tiny baby girl that we had been waiting nine months to welcome into the world. I was envious. I had been told that I couldn’t have children, so there I went being bitter again. I had completely wore my body out and they were going to throw me in the hospital for a week with a kidney infection that I had started to have enough. I was visiting my sister who had turned into an amazing mother. I had enough of being bitter and decided that if I couldn’t have my own children that I would adopt when the time was right.
I quit drinking (funny notion I know) and from there I worked to put my life where I thought I needed it to be. Met my first husband, had a miscarriage and got depressed and took it out on him. A year later we were divorced and I was living with my grandparents again for a short time. I started dating my husband now and went through a bunch of different careers trying to figure out who I wanted to be.
I decided I was going to try and be successful as a civilian recruiter for The United States Army. In this picture I was six weeks pregnant with my beautiful daughter Vivian who I was told I couldn’t have.
(We didn’t know we were having her at this point either!)
If you’re wondering…..nope we weren’t married at the time. I know I’m going straight to hell, and that’s okay. Just save me a seat in the front row, okay?
So there I was at ARC (Army Recruiting Course), thinking that I had the flu that was going around when you get a bunch of people together for any type of training. A week later it didn’t go away, it should have. I was still sick as a dog, threatened with being thrown out of the course etc. etc……I was a civilian at that time I didn’t know the rules, I should have never been there, but I was.
I went to the store very skeptical about the results of what I was looking for. A pregnancy test…..that’s right, the one thing I couldn’t have on my own and I was testing for them. It was a good thing that I got the one that had more than one in it because I was not expecting the positive results that I received!
After the positive results were determined, that I figured I needed to reach down and suck it up, even though that is not what I did. My mind else where, barely making it through recruiting school. I got home, started my new job. Loved the green suites that I worked with! They were absolutely hilarious, this was my style. They made it easier to get up and work fourteen hours and then go home and crash.
Finally after strep, kidney infections, preterm labor, two weeks overdue, puppps syndrome (pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy), my OB said, “Hey, let’s stick a cath in your cervix so we can get the party started!”
I was for it! There was only one cool thing about having a baby, that was the baby!
At midnight that night, I started having really good contractions. My husband (now, yeah we tied the knot) woke his dad up who we were staying with since it was closer, threw me in the car and hauled ass for Labor and Delivery.
We got there, they took us right up to labor and delivery. When they asked how far I was and I told them that we were two weeks over due with no results on my cervix and no more contractions and the type of help I needed from my OB, they had no problems putting me in a delivery room with an IV of Pitocin. This was the problem, it didn’t work. The contractions had stopped after they put in my epidural. (After my preterm contractions there was no way in hell I was going without one!) That was the step that saved my daughter’s life. There were no issues after twelve hours of contractions with no results and a ruptured water. My OB walked into the room and said, “Who’s ready to have a baby?”
They took me straight into emergency cesarean surgery. Everything was good, I got to see my very blue little girl whom had the cord wrapped around her neck three times and was trying to play yo-yo with herself, but she was okay. She was going to make it just fine.
My OB started to get my body put back together.(yes when they say they pull your guts out on your belly, they really do) Here came the problems. They told my husband to go with our daughter because the anesthesiologist had let the pain medication run out of my epidural and I had started to feel everything. The anesthesiologist started to play it off until I started to cry and scream. That was when the lights went out. When I woke up there was no stopping me from screaming, it was the most pain I had ever felt in my life. It should have been because lets not lie, when they cut you open and pull your child and your guts out of your body it’s going to hurt like hell.
My husband was still with my daughter who was coming out much better then I was. My mom and my sister were trying to calm me down from the pain. They had put the morphine pump in my hand, not that I would be able to do much with it since I could push the button multiple times but it wouldn’t dispense until the timer let it. My mom having heard enough of me crying and was ready to ring someone’s neck when she sent my sister to get my dad. Every little girl needs their daddy when they couldn’t control things. This pain was uncontrollable, for all I knew my husband was AWOL, my baby was not in my arms and I was in agonizing pain. My mind was in business for itself.
Then my father walked in and with his calm demeanor started talking quietly to me to help me get myself under control. The pain was still there but he told me that I was in the pre-operating room for cesareans. How could I not feel empathy for some of these girls listening to me scream uncontrollably in pain while they were getting ready to go into the room that I had just came out of.
It wasn’t much longer while I was still sobbing (silently at this time) that my mother told me that they were going to bring in Nick and Viviana. I was told I could hold her, but if I was to excited she was going to get excited too. I needed to be calm for my little girl who had just went through her own experience so early in life. Remember the part when I said that I just wanted to be selfish for most of my life? That went out the window the moment this beautiful little girl was placed in my arms. The thought of it just being me was no longer there, it was me and this kid and by god we were going to make it out of that hospital together in almost one piece!
This was my first true experience as a brand new mother, it was horrible but we’re tough and that’s how we do it!
Deciding that one child was enough for me. I was terrified after everything was healed to get intimate with my husband for fear that my birth control wasn’t going to work and we were going to have another baby. I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again…….EVER. Well almost five years later and a ton of weight gain from the birth control I decided that I was going to come off of it and that we were just going to use spermicide and condoms to make sure we didn’t have another baby. I couldn’t live my life in fear anymore.
Here was the thing, it was bound to happen, he had his own plans. Before we even knew we were going to have another baby, my daughter was telling all of my friends that we were pregnant. She was four, almost five, and she was right. Nick had just gotten orders for deployment. This was when the fear set in. I was going to be alone, with my daughter for ten to twelve months. Horror movies had nothing on my imagination at that point.
I told my husband that I was moving in with my parents while he was gone. That was a relief off his shoulders and mine. I had my rock solid foundation there for me……..right? This was how I became more than just a parent. This was where I put on my super cape and powered through my husbands deployment with a child that didn’t want a sibling. A mother who had lost herself somewhere in herself. My dad and I were stuck together with a four year old and a spouse who couldn’t help because they were falling apart. Somehow we made it. I don’t know when it happened but my dad and I truly became buddies.
Then it hit the point where I was just done, done with the emotional baggage, done with the pregnancy, done with my husband being gone, I was tired of being strong for everyone and everything. I broke down and I told my awesome OB I was ready come hell or high water. She said you know what, let’s see if we can send out a request. I know that they can’t always be here for the birth, if not we can skype it like we did your ultrasounds. Somewhere I think God knew that I needed my husband to be by my side for this. I needed him to see that I wasn’t crazy, that things really had gotten bad, that half of my rock solid foundation was gone and I needed him. We don’t always get along. I’m not always nice to him and sometimes he is a downright jerk to me but this was one time that wasn’t to be allowed. This was one time my prayers were answered and my husband got to come home for a very, very short period of time.
This was where I started to hyperventilate……here came the caesarian…… I was terrified. My anesthesiologist was awesome, my OB read between the lines and put me right out after I had freaked out. I didn’t feel any pain when I woke up and things were not as traumatic as they were when I had Vivian. I had a beautiful little girl and a very handsome little boy.
Some how things seemed to be right. This isn’t a happily ever after, this is a things aren’t perfect and we’re going to throw stuff together family.
Sometimes this is truly is what my house looks like, and sometimes I want to rip my hair out. That is every parent I think, but I would never give my children back. There is never a day where I say that I can’t do this. I have days where I say, “Hey I’m crazy and I need help.” There is a reason why I take Prozac, but I don’t ever give up. These kids saved my life, my sanity, and my humanity. I am nothing without them and I have finally claimed my official job title………….a mother.
Thank you for reading! Remember there is a difference between positive criticism and being an ass! If this post doesn’t appeal to you please keep going.
It’s been three days since you have started your shenanigans. I must tell you that you are being evicted. You have thirty days to vacate the premises.
Please remember to leave things the way that you found them. I know that this might be expensive but that is what happens when you trash a place that you do not own. Also please replace the blinds to the eyes, and replace the carpet on the tongue. Also remember to polish the teeth, the silver ones are very expensive. I will be through in two weeks to do a walk through with you. If you have not complied with stated request there will be a need to call the police of WBC County. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.
Please remember to take your pink flamingos and lawn gnomes with you, they don’t live here anymore.
She slipped out of something less comfortable and plugged in some evening music. The cold tiles beneath her bare feet sent chills that excited her dance. Stepping into the bath, she rested.
The lights went out. She stood, wrapping a towel round her chest. A deafening silence left her uneasy as she walked through the house. A creak. She halted as though a feline. Tiptoeing towards the circuit breaker, she remained alert. With a single switch her wet body electrified, and soon hit the ground, dead.
A breeze ruffled the fur of a cat as it passed by the corpse.
Twelve faces urge me to make a change. A mother’s tears, my father’s letter. Brave children who love me with devotion. They’re right and I know it, but I scowl in defiance. I have control or at least I used to. Now it seems the control controls me. A barrier is breaking. My wife, so tender, takes my hand and kisses me. There is pain in her eyes and forgiveness in her heart. She wants to be strong, but I can see she has been so for too long and is crumbling. And then he says, “Daddy?” and maybe for the first time I hear him.
Twelve tears collide with the bottle in my lap and his tiny hand pulls it away. The barrier has turned rubble. My neck is hot, sweat gathers on my nose and it drips. There is shame somewhere deep that is rumbling upward with vigor and with it the boiling waters of guilt. I shake out the tears. I bring him into my chest and I hold him. He releases the bottle and hugs me right back. “I love you, daddy.” He tells me.
Twelve miles between me and group and the eyes who watch me enter. Anonymous is a fallacy, they all know why I’m there. A community so watchful as a man enters a church at just the right time and just the right place. They haven’t seen me before, I’m not part of their Sunday parish, and so they watch. Their eyes burning into the back of my jacket; a gauntlet of judgement.
Twelve steps from the car to the church doors. Heavy and wooden, cast iron laden. They creak when they open. An informal announcement. Bodies gathered in a circle don’t shift to greet me so I stand in the shadows holding onto his picture. There is an empty chair waiting for me I need only to claim it and yet, like molten lead, my shoes have been welded to the ground.
Twelve thoughts of doubt crowding in my mind. Pride lingers the hallways a bully to courage and fear guides them. But the people are sitting there waiting and the chair it waits for me, too. So I remember his face and I take a deep breath. For him it is worth it. To be the father he deserves and the man they all need. And I take in more air to puff up my chest. Pride can find victory in conquering itself. The seat is cold and the floor nondescript. A hand pats my shoulder and the meeting begins.
Twelve members to hear my story. And not a trace of disappointment among them. My chest is constricted, my breathing not normal. I push on through the bad parts, those I can remember, and I know they can hear me. The waver in my voice as I recount what brought me there and with each word a weight lifted and each nod an acceptance.
Twelve minutes at a time. I take it all in twelve minutes at a time. For him I can do it. For her I must. One day I’ll remember to do it for me, but all journeys need maps to keep your path straight. And for now they are mine.
Twelve steps in a program that maybe I can subscribe to. Twelve breaths a reminder of the people who love me. Twelve heart beats bring life back into this body. Twelve apologies I owe. Twelve mistakes that I’ve made. Twelve lessons to come.