This may be hard to believe, but when I was a young child, I didn’t like cheese. Wait, what? What kind of kid turns their nose up at grilled cheese, cheeseburgers, and the coveted mac & cheese? This kid. I hated it. Gagged at the thought. I even remember a time when a babysitter fixed me a cheese and mayonnaise sandwich, which I refused to eat. I threw it in the trash, and GET THIS, she retrieved it out and made me eat it anyway! I still remember the taste of Miracle Whip and sliced American filling my mouth as I fought the urge to hurl it all back up. Ick!

But somewhere along the way, I actually came across some good cheese. Some real cheese, not that nasty, processed, fake yellow stuff. That somewhere was my grandparent’s home at …

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We fought her, and then we fought FOR her. She’s amazing. She’s brave. And I don’t deserve her.

Brave. Not a word I would have used to describe my oldest daughter only six months ago. With a mental disposition much like me, I feared she would follow in my anxiety-laced footsteps. Her fear made me fearful. My nerves made her nervous. We’re a sometimes-challenging duo, her and I.

You see, I don’t want her to be like me. I want her to run through the sprinklers of life instead of skirting the edges. I want her to be Ria. I want her to live with less fear, but I know she’ll never be completely free of anxiety’s bonds. Or will she? Will she break free of the walls within own mind…and mine? …

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A Boy to Dance With

All motion. No insecurity. My daughter dances to the beat of her own heart, and may she always.

As our small town’s annual Fall Fest approached, my 31-year-old mind slipped back a few years and I was reminded of the insecure adolescent I used to be. Awkwardly tall and skinny, I wasn’t exactly the most sought-after girl on the dating scene. Also considering I’m related to half the population, my choices for potential suitors grew even slimmer. But still. There were boys. Boys whose hands I longed to hold. Boys whose smile would make my bony knees wobble a bit. Boys who might actually notice me if I wore the right jeans, a bra with enough padding to build several squirrel’s nests, enough Cover Girl makeup to conceal my God-forsaken acne, and a nice big …

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Petite powerhouse Miranda Lambert could have just about anything she wants. She’s got the talent, the money, the connections and the partner to make it happen. But when she decided to open a bed & breakfast in tiny Tishomingo, OK (it’s still twice as big as my town), she didn’t draw up plans for new construction with an architect. She didn’t scout out a location with the best parking. She didn’t build a marquee with her name in lights. Instead, she found an old building directly across from The Pink Pistol, her eclectic boutique. She created a space where the old is given new life, details mean everything, and glitz and grit live together in perfect, delicious harmony. Her heart and soul were poured into its walls, textures, and colors, creating the jewel …

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Your adorable little self at 18 months old. Prophetic t-shirt? I certainly think so.

Hey baby, it’s mommy. You can’t hear me right now. You’re sound asleep in your bed, Frances the bear tucked under your arm. You had a hard time falling asleep tonight, and I can’t blame you. You’re a little nervous. Mommy is too. Tomorrow is your big day. The day you start Kindergarten.

I can tell you’re excited, and I can see a little bit of uncertainty in your eyes. Will you like your teacher? Will you make new friends? Will you know what to do?

I remember the moment I first saw your face. Your red, naked little body was placed on my chest, and I stared deeply into your wide open eyes. You looked strong. And I could tell you were …

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I want my daughter to know that fishing should be enjoyed no matter your attire. Except I did encourage her to wear jeans and boots for practicality. 🙂

Sometimes, a single image can spark a week-long stream of thought and argument in my easily excited mind. I’ll ruminate on the subject, argue with myself, cheer myself on, put myself down, and finally, it all builds until it spills out as a blog post. This time, it was this image which showed up in my Instagram feed from an outdoor clothing company I follow, Back Country Native.

Now, I want to make it completely clear I have NO beef with this company. I’m all for encouraging women to get get outdoors and if they want to look all dolled up while doing it? More power …

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