Baby on the Brain: My Top 10 Baby Products

If you've read/seen A Simple Favor, you will know that the main character Stephanie is an avid mom blogger (vlogger in the film).  Rest assured, I'm not quitting my day job to do that.  Well, I did kind of quit my day job...but it was definitely not to be a mom blogger.

I actually really enjoy mom blogs, and have a book called "I Just Want to Pee Alone" that is a collection of hilarious mom blog posts, but my brain just goes in too many different directions to narrow my rantings down to one topic alone.  Since I did leave my job to be a stay at home mom for a bit, though, be prepared to read a good many mom posts on here.  Or skip 'em.  It's totally your call.

Anyway, as I sit here with two sleeping cherubs, (three, if you include my primadonna rag doll cat) and a husband sitting through delectable meetings in his office, my house is as quiet as it's likely going to be all day, and I have some time to write.

This post, like many, has been rolling around in the back of my mind for awhile now, and was prompted by inadvertently receiving baby shower gifts for my firstborn that I didn't necessarily ask for, but in hindsight really, really love.  I know not everyone likes spontaneous gifts, especially when a baby is on the way, as people have personal tastes, themes, colors, and certain ideologies that often prohibit (even subconsciously) people from buying gifts not on the registry.  Here I am to share with you my top 10 baby products (in no particular order) that I never in a million years would have picked out for myself, but am really glad they were given/suggested to me by my much wiser mom friends.  Enjoy!

(BTW these are all honest to God suggestions and are not promotional.  Honestly, out of the 73 people that read this blog, we all know Munchkin and Pamper's reps aren't accounted for, but I thought I'd add the disclaimer anyway.)

10) Johnson's Hand & Face Wipes

Every mom likely has a plethora of wipes for baby's diaper needs, but anyone who's tried to use said wipes on other places has probably found them to be, well, not as effective.  Sure, they kind of get the job done, but when my eyes were opened to these bad boys via a random conversation with a friend, the competition was over.  I am by no means a brand snob (unlike my husband) which you can see from the various brands and non-brands on this list, but the Target version of these just didn't have the same subtle, yet amazing scent these had.  I'm all for the knock off brand, but when it comes to hand and face wipes, I go the extra mile.

9) Arm & Hammer Scented Diaper Bags

Never have I ever dropped off my child at a sitter's without these small, but mighty beasts in the diaper bag.  A similar version of these was bestowed upon me at my firstborn's shower, and upon not being able to find that brand, I resorted to Arm & Hammer, and ended up loving them.  They can get unruly in the diaper bag if they are not restrained, so I used one of the hundred billion baby hair ties I have in the house to secure them, and sometimes reinforce security by putting them in a ziplock bag.

8) Ingenuity 3-in-1 High Chair

I can actually take credit for this one, as this exact high chair was on my registry.  ANYTHING convertible or multi-in-one is a win for me (unless it's a bra.  Those are hella confusing and make me feel like I am going to suffocate whilst trying to assemble unnecessarily difficult neglige), and we get SO much use out of this.  I'm sure any brand would be great, this is just the one we happened to stumble upon.

7) Tommee Tippee Bibs

One of my wise mom friends swears by these, and I see why.  They're rubbery/silicone-y, so there's no need to put them in the washer and wait for them to dry; just throw that sucker in the sink and it's ready to go in seconds.  It's hard to see from the photo, but there's a pocket for picking up ramen noodles and cereal.  Or anything your child may inadvertently dispense from his or her mouth.

6) Newborn Mittens

This find was a happy accident on my behalf.  Who knew, even when you trimmed baby's nails, that she would consistently try to gouge out her corneas?  At least wait until ice-breaker day at your college orientation before you try to attempt that.  Anyway, these are manageable, efficient, and as cute or as simple as you want them to be.  (FYI-frugal me tried to just use socks.  They stayed on her hands about as well as they stay on her feet...which is not well)  I would say to get at least three pair, as we found these got in the way of many a spit up, and had to be washed a lot.

5) My Breast Friend Nursing Pillow

For my first child I ended up receiving two Boppy nursing pillows, which I loved and one of which I still occasionally use.  I often struggled with the things I assume most Boppy users probably struggle with (or maybe I just struggle more than the average human):

Boppy Pillow, for reference

1. I have it around me, now time to get the baby.  Shit, the Boppy fell off of me.  I probably shouldn't drop the baby to pick it up.  How does one DO THIS?
2. Okay, baby first, THEN Boppy.  Got it.  Baby is up, and grab the Boppy.  How do I get it on me without dropping the baby?  Maybe if I twist it this way...dammit.  I probably shouldn't drop the baby to pick it up.
3. Finally!  Baby is nursing well and is so cozy, but what's with this gradual gap widening between me and the pillow?  And now the pillow is on the floor.  Again.

My Breast Friend was suggested to me by my wedding photographer when we were doing my firstborn's baby shoot.  It not only has a ridiculously fun name, but fastens behind you like a badass Rambo nursing station.  It's probably made out of the same stuff they make those crazy mattresses out of where people are jumping on it with wine glasses on the corner, but don't quote me on that.  It has two bumps on it that help naturally lift baby's head AND IT HAS A POUCH.  For a binky.  Or a bottle.  Or Cheetos for mom.

4) Munchkin Latch Baby Bottles

Self-proclaimed non-brand snob here to say I really do love this specific brand.  I didn't try a ton of bottles, but once these were used it seemed to be a perfect fit.  Literally.  Target for the win, as there was a small 4 oz. bottle in the sample pack they gave me as a gift for being pregnant.  (By the way, can we talk about how the young woman passing out gift bags to pregnant women at the front of the Target store needs a huge raise?  How many times do you think she gave a non-pregnant woman a perk package and said "Congrats!" with a huge grin on her face?  Hopefully never.)  Interestingly enough, despite having initially received the sample from Target, they didn't have any replacement parts when I stopped by the other day to get some nipples (If I had a dollar for every time I typed that...).  *shrug*

3) Cloth Diapers

Before you go congratulating me on being extraordinarily patient and eco-friendly, let me tell you that we don't use cloth diapers on our kids.  One of my cousins gifted these to me and prefaced it with "they work really well as burp cloths...and also to wash your car!"  Note: do not burp a baby with it and then wash your car.  Other than the awesome hand-made burp cloths one of my friends sewed for me, these are the most efficient burp cloths EVER.  I did receive lots of really cute matching burp cloths, which I love for aesthetic reasons, but in terms of efficiency, I feel like I could just as well burp my child with a Kleenex.

2) Munchkin Brica Car Mirror

This was an unexpected gift from a friend that saved me MANY an unhappy car ride back from Watertown.  The remote clipped on my visor, and I can put it on daytime music, or sleepy music.  The little bug lights up, as well as the mirror, and the tunes are actually pretty cute.  I may or may not have named them all, and solfeged them all in my head.  It's surprising how many of the melodies are not diatonic...I digress.  I'm sure many brands have something similar, and while I love mine, perhaps try to find one with a power button on the remote.  It will eventually go into "sleep mode", but I would often forget to turn it off when I was getting wee one out of the car, and let's just say we went through a lot of AAA batteries because of it.

1) Fitted Waterproof Crib Mattress Cover


As luck would have it, we haven't yet utilized the magic that is my sister-in-law's advice: place a fitted sheet over the crib mattress, and then top it with the waterproof mattress cover.  Then, put ANOTHER fitted sheet on top.  That way, after a blowout diaper or tsunam-pee, you can easily remove the nasty sheet, plus the cover, and not have to get a new sheet out in the middle of the night.  We are fortunate enough to have never had diaper accidents in the middle of the night, and I swear it's because we are prepared for it.  As soon as I take the mattress cover off, it will probably be shit central in my nursery, which is why I'll not likely remove it any time soon.  (As a note, any brand is probably fine, and while the photo says Carter's, I can't honestly remember what mine is.)

Being a mom of any number of children is basically like the scene in Saw 2 where the girl has to jump into a pit of used hypodermic needles in order to find the key to save her life.  Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it can sometimes feel like that.  Social media makes it all too easy to judge moms, and in addition to just providing helpful advice, I wanted to post this to give a shout out to all my mom friends out there who have helped pave the way for my maternal journey.  It is so easy to criticize, but so much more healing to help, so I hope this post helped you in the same way all my mom friends helped me.

Hitting the Reset Button Part II: Teaching

After our first child was born, I knew I was going to have to do some re-prioritizing and remove some hobbies out of my hectic schedule.  I feel like I was reasonable and proactive about it, and joked with my husband after the process that, "Well, all I have left now is the pageant and my job...hopefully they will be enough to keep me busy!"  Fast forward to three years later, and it turns out that both are now elements of my past, and looking forward I have an incredibly new, exciting, and somewhat terrifying chapter ahead of me.  Being a full-time mom.

Losing two things that were so instrumental to building my current identity in such a short order was a bit of a shock, but one that I was able to manage in bite-size pieces, and handle as well as one could be expected to handle it.  Being that I can't do either justice in just one post, I figured I would separate my thoughts in parting with two of the greatest passions I have had the pleasure of pursuing.  I give you Part II: The Best Teaching Gig Ever.

I'll try to spare you the length of the last post, since this one is a bit shorter portion of my life.  10 years of investment in teaching, rather than 15, but who's counting?  Starting at the end, once again, seems to make the most sense.

I left my job.  It's not something I planned on doing, and honestly, was not even something I wanted to do.  Like, remotely wanted even.  It just sort of happened.  Most moms-to-be have their career paths a little more well thought out than a spontaneous "I think I'm going to leave my job" moment, but that's really how it happened.  It was a realization that I came to some time in mid-April of this year, and it was hands down the most difficult decision I've ever made in my 32 years of existence.  Thankfully, we are in a position financially where this was an option for me, otherwise it wouldn't have even been a consideration, so I am truly blessed to have the luxury of making a choice, don't get me wrong.  It just, much like some of my pageant journey, wasn't part of "the plan".

10 years ago I started long term subbing at General Brown, but ultimately, I was the full time teacher for that year, even though it wasn't reflected financially or on paper.  I started in September, and ended in June, and fulfilled all the obligations of a full-time employee...and then some.  At this time, I was fresh out of college, 22 years old, and living at home with my parents, so it wasn't unusual for me to prefer spending my hours in "my" classroom revamping and inventing the program of my dreams.  It was my hope that I would be hired full-time the next year, so I invested a lot of time scrapping basically the entire curriculum, and building anew.  I was young, energetic, and desperate to fill my time with anything but going home.

It took a few years for me to find my stride, and to find the teaching style that was both effective for my students, and an accurate reflection of who I was fundamentally.  By around year 3-4, I had pretty much figured out what I wanted my classroom environment to feel like, and each year it got a bit more cozy and family-like.  I won't lie, we had our share of drama and ups and downs in the classroom environment, but it was starting to feel more and more like home.  Strangely enough, the more time I invested in my program, the better I felt about it.  Funny how there's a parallel there, huh?

Suffice it to say by year ten I was feeling very comfortable, and while I was still investing in my program, it was able to run a bit more like the well oiled machine I envisioned it being.  I had proposed new courses, and had basically every vocal teacher's dream: no general music.  I had really fun electives which students chose to be a part of, so there was little to no negotiating to get students interested in the content.  The spark of interest was already there.  I loved my schedule.  I loved my colleagues.  I really enjoyed my administrators and was starting to get more involved with professional commitments.  I adored my students and what we were able to share with each other.

This is where you ask, "Ummm, so why did you give it up?".  That's a difficult question to answer simply, and it was one that I had difficulty sharing with my students when the time came.  I felt like I was at the peak of my professional game, and now was the time for me to leave?  Really?

Well, yes.  The best way I could simply state it was this: "If it were easy to walk away, I should have done it a long time ago."  As a 22 year old, I was on top of the world and had nothing but time to devote to my students.  I had ambitions, a timeline, new ideas, and creative ways to implement those ideas.  Fast forward to 32 year old me with a husband and two children (and a very needy cat).  I had built a program that couldn't be sustained by this new me, and I neglected to see it coming.  Not only that, but I tried with one child, and noticed how badly my family dynamic suffered.  Furthermore, I ignored it, and continued to be happily married to my job as if nothing was wrong, but deep down I knew there was a problem.

Don't get me wrong, if you know my oldest cherub, she is one happy little bugger.  She has thrived these past three years, because we have had SO much support from my mom, mother-in-law, stepmother-in-law, and sister-in-law.  In fact, that's one of the reasons that made it so difficult to acknowledge the issue: she was being raised SO WELL by four super-moms, why on earth would I want to step in and ruin it?  This was not an overt thought of mine, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't rolling around in the back of my head somewhere.

So: dream job, one kid, head barely above water.  We're doing okay.  What about hypothetical baby Willis #2?  My husband and I talked A LOT, and for a very long time, about whether or not it was a good idea to even consider procreating again, and one of the stipulations we had was that I wouldn't give up my job if we were to have a second child.  So, you can imagine my shock when I ultimately decided that leaving my job was the only choice I really had.  Not only that, but since the epiphany didn't come to me until mid-April, I was already promising my students and colleagues things that I wasn't going to be able to deliver the next year.  Good job, me.

I'm a pretty spiritual person, and if you haven't realized this about me yet let me fill you in: I firmly believe that God has a plan for everyone.  I am beyond blessed in my life, and I feel like part of that is because I have complete faith that I will be guided in the right direction.  Sometimes it's not a direction I envision myself taking, but I have trusted for a long time that my path isn't always the one I choose for myself and it has yet to lead me astray so I'm just going to keep going with it, as silly as it may sound to some.  So, when the option of staying at home presented itself, it makes sense that I would react calmly and just trust what's ultimately best.

Well, I didn't.

I cried.  I screamed.  I had horrible tear stains on my dress.  I verbally rationalized (at a rather loud dynamic level) all the reasons why I had to stay at my job, and all of the ways around this option that I had promised myself I would never, ever entertain the idea of.  I was super immature about it, and even as the angry words and suggestions poured from my mouth, I was annoyed with how selfish all of the reasons sounded.  I loved MY job.  I worked so hard to build MY program.  MY students needed ME.  MY job was a huge part of MY identity.  This isn't what I envisioned for MYSELF.  You get the picture.  To quote my brother-in-law as he lovingly mocks my profession,  "me me me".

Thankfully, I had to pull myself together because we were about to visit family in Canada for the weekend, and once again what I wanted didn't happen, and what did happen was for the best.  My husband had to leave to play a gig, and I was left without the ability to contact him overnight (despite the close proximity, Canada is in fact another country), which gave me the opportunity to think.  And silently cry.  And think some more.

I weighed the options, took many steps back, and looked at the big picture.  I also went to church like, five times in seven days because it was Holy Week, and that gave me tons of clarity and perspective.  If that wasn't enough, Delilah sealed my fate.  Yes, I'm talking about the cheesy, romantic evening radio program.  A woman called in and her name was Corinne.  Not a perfect match, but it got my attention.  She requested a song (I think Delilah ended up playing "Crazy for You" by Madonna) for her husband because she loved him so much and he was the best and blah blah...you get the idea.  She went on to say, though, that he was incredibly supportive, and worked so hard in his job to ensure that she could stay home and raise their children.  Again, I know this sounds ridiculously stupid to some, but if this was not a sign that I was making the right choice, I really don't know what is.  (Although to be perfectly honest, I hate that song.  That's neither here nor there, though.)

So, there it is.  Now I just have to tell my boss.  And my boss's boss.  And my students.  Good Lord, my precious babies whom I love so dearly.  It felt like initiating an amicable, yet undesirable breakup.  "Hey, we both know this just isn't going to work out in the future.  I wish you the best, but I have to go my own way now.  You can keep the sofa, but I am taking the dining set.  Peace."  Needless to say, lots of ugly crying went down with my boss.  And a good amount with my boss' boss.  And with my students.  There may have been sunglasses and a box of tissues on hand while I presented a 22 slide PowerPoint, because there's no way I could have verbalized it.  I also care about them so much, and really wanted them to understand why I made this decision.

Have I mentioned yet my amazing colleagues?  Two of whom are my best friends and have been with me from the beginning.  I imagined retiring alongside them in this district that I loved working in, and now that wasn't going to be a likely reality anymore.  I talked to them first (lots of tears, of course.  I was also pregnant and slightly hormonal, before you think I'm a total emotional basket case) and explained my rationale.  I didn't need to.  They are moms, and they totally understood.  In fact, literally everyone I spoke to understood and, most said something like "You won't regret doing this", "I did the same thing and wouldn't have changed a thing", or "I wish I had that option.  I would take it in a heartbeat."  More affirmation, although I knew I didn't really need it.

Even my students showed the utmost maturity and understanding after I dropped the news.  I suppose it would be hard to assume that I wanted to leave my job as I sat there sobbing through a slide show, so they knew I was being sincere, and made every effort to make me feel better about my choice.  Or at least, not make me feel lousy.  (They also had a firsthand perspective of how much I was married to my program, and when posed with the question, "What is Mrs. Willis' #1 priority?", we all knew it was secretly my job.  Oh, I always said it was God, family, and then job, but when you bring your one year old to a musical choreography rehearsal and have half your cast babysit while she is probably stuck in a pee-pee diaper, meanwhile you're running through a step-ball-change sequence over and over with the other half of your cast, you know that your priorities are a bit skewed.)  From lovely gifts, meaningful cards, amazingly impactful spoken words at our final concert, moving performances, to sincere and beautiful words written during the open ended question of their final exam, I knew that my students ultimately supported my choice and cared very deeply about the program they were a part of.

And now it's August.  Back to school season feels so surreal to me.  I haven't NOT gone to school after a summer since I was four years old, so this is really new to me.  Not to mention, while I am excited, I am also terrified about my new journey as a full-time mom.  I know this post has made it sound like I despise and resent motherhood, but that's really not the case.  I just really, REALLY loved my job and was searching for a way to keep everything on my plate.  I know that I am making the best choice for my family, and I am thrilled that I will be able to raise my girls together.  It's just going to take some time to get used to.

Don't get me wrong, teaching certainly has its moments of chaos, but it's predictable chaos, and it will eventually end when the bell rings.  There are also supports, and resources for when things aren't going smoothly.  I've worked, studied, and practiced my whole life to be a teacher, and I'm really comfortable in that position, but being a mom?  Where's the grad class for that?  Do I earn credits for all the diapers I'm changing, and do they transfer over to my potential doctorate, or something?

Strangely enough, I know it's going to be fine.  Mostly because I think teaching experience gives you a great advantage as a parent.  Raising a child involves disseminating information into the minds of little ones, and guess what I'm pretty good at doing?  Just that.  It's going to take some time for me to find my new flow and develop some routines, but it will- in some ways- be a welcome change.  There are days where I am going to go crazy, and I am going to miss my job, program, colleagues, and students tremendously, but ultimately the list of regrets I have upon leaving my job is A LOT shorter than the list of regrets I would have of having my girls grow up with a mom who put her job first, and her family second.

Here's wishing a great school year to all those heading back this Fall, especially to my GB kiddos.  Please know how much I really wish I could be botching all your accompaniments, but know that I am needed much more in my new job as a Mommy.  Lots of love to you all <3

"You'll be in my heart...always"

-Mrs. Willis

Happy Hamburger Day

It's taken me awhile to gather up my thoughts and emotions to be able to post again, plus life and weekends have been crazy busy.  Here is my attempt to rectify my absence, for the seven people that read what I have to say on a regular basis.  Thank you, seven people.  I appreciate your business.

"What is Hamburger Day?  Did she just make that up?"  Well, yes I did...sort of.  It should come as no surprise to you that today is Memorial Day, and I guess my made up holiday name is a cathartic and snarky way of calling out people who don't respect, appreciate, or understand what today is actually about.  (If you are between the ages of 1-13 you get a pass, otherwise, shame on you)

I can understand the bastardization of holidays like Easter and Christmas, and while I don't condone it, I get it.  Not everyone is a Christian, and not everyone celebrates these holidays with the solemnity and purpose they were designed to possess.  That's ok, because we're all unique snowflakes and not all built to believe, say, think, or celebrate things the same way, so despite my personal feelings on the sanctity of spiritual holidays, I certainly don't judge.

But if you are a U.S. citizen, which I'm going to wager that the majority of people living in our country are, Memorial Day applies to you, and you should recognize that.  We are all afforded opportunities and benefits that other places in the world don't even get to dream of having, and I feel like most of the time it is not only forgotten, but taken for granted.

Break

The last time I shared my thoughts and feelings to the world via my blog seems so long ago, and I promise that it was not an intentional hiatus.  The title of this post seems very apropos, since in addition to my school and blogging break, many things have broken these past two weeks, and my heart was one of them.

Easter vacation for me is pretty normal, minus the triathlon that is Easter week madness.  Between Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil, and Easter Sunday, the Roman Catholic celebration of Easter definitely can be exhausting, and this year was no different.

I don't really want to get into details, for the mere reason that that's not what this post is intended to be about.  That being said, my father started feeling much worse than normal right around Wednesday, April 1st, and his spirit left us around 3:55 am on Saturday, April 4th.  Obviously, that changed a lot about my break, and I guess this post is mostly to share with you all- or at least attempt to- what is going on inside my head.

For those of you that don't know me very well, I tend to be a pretty spiritual person.  I try to make it to church on a regular basis and be an active part of the services.  I'm not going to engage in a philosophical debate at this time regarding my religious beliefs, but I'll summarize it similarly to how I silenced one of my interrogative boyfriends: I worship because, at the end of the service, I feel like a better, more complete person.  Agree.  Disagree.  That's cool, I'm not going to judge because we all have our beliefs, but this post will make more sense if you just know that about me.  Cool?  Ok.

For those of you biblically minded, you can appreciate my connection that the most painful day of my father's life, and the last full one at that, was on Good Friday, and also that just prior to Easter Triduum, my father was in the hospital for three days.  I couldn't seem to shake the fact that this was not a coincidence, and if you know me at all, you know I don't believe in coincidences.  Despite that 24-hour period being, to date, the most emotionally draining day of my life, I would like to believe that the fact that it happened to be Good Friday was for me to be able to find some comfort in my father's suffering.  He was not alone.

But it goes deeper than that.  Because my father had no salivary glands from the radiation and chemotherapy from his first cancer 10 years ago, he often took a tiny sponge swab and rinsed his mouth out with water when it got unusually dry.

For those not understanding the relation: prior to Christ's crucifixion, the soldiers soaked a hyssop branch in wine and offered it to Jesus because he thirsted.  It's not exactly the same thing, but as my dad was being hydrated with these little pink sponges merely hours before he passed, I shuddered at the eeriness of the connection.

Vegas Vacation Days 1 & 2 - People Don't Run in the Airport

As I begin to dive into the seventh circle of hell AKA production week of my musical, I am finding myself ill, exhausted, stressed, and going in eight different directions at once.  Blogging, for me, is therapeutic, and nothing would make me happier than teleporting back to Las Vegas with the amazing people I was lucky enough to travel with, so without further adieu, I invite you to come with me on my Vegas chronicles.

Day 1- 2/14/15
Happy Valentine's Day!  After having an 8:00 am salon appointment, I headed to Dunkin' to grab Andrew and I some breakfast as we finished our last minute packing.  Deltra Lynne and Darrell had planned on us leaving at 11:30, but they arrived a little after 11, and we were ready, so on our way we went!

The drive to Syracuse was short and sweet, and we arrived super early, which was nice because it allowed us time to grab some lunch at the Saranac Pub.  When we got to the gate, the prior flight hadn't even boarded yet, so we had a bit of down time until our plane boarded.  While we checked our e-mail and listened to music, Deltra Lynne and I mused about cinematic depictions of airports, and how absolutely unlikely and unrealistic it is when they show people running to catch a flight, and they make it within minutes.  Umm, airport security anyone?  No one can just waltz into an airport and run to catch their flight, so we laughed about how sensationalized they made the process look in movies.

We noticed that on our tickets, we all had asterisks by our seat numbers, unbeknownst to us as to why.  It all started to make sense after about an hour, when we realized the plane was overbooked because of all the cancellations, as there was a winter storm coming in all over the East coast.  Great.  They asked for four volunteers to not board the plane, and receive a $300 reimbursement for inconvenience and new travel arrangements.  Darrell and Andrew proceeded to get the 411 on our options, and they said if we volunteered, they could reimburse us for taxi fare to Buffalo or Rochester, but because of the storm there was no guarantee they would fly us that night.  They also suggested Philadelphia International Airport, who was guaranteed to send us out the next morning at 7:50 am.  Because of the hassle and drive, they would reimburse us $850.  Apiece.  We readily agreed, and were very glad that we had the wherewithal to not check our bags, and pack light so that all we had were our carry ons.  To Philly we ventured!

This drive was not short, nor sweet.  We were starting to see the beginnings of the storm that was screwing over all of the Northeast flights, and couldn't have been any happier that in less than 24 hours we would be in warmer conditions.  The drive was about four hours, and started really poorly.  We even saw a car ahead of us fishtailing, and they ended up driving off the road and flipping over into the left hand ditch.  Luckily, we were able to avoid collisions on the highway, and luckily for the car the snow was high and powdery, and they were going pretty slowly.  We were all a little shaken up, and called 911 to get the police to come.  We definitely all said a quick prayer for the passengers, too.

New Post, New Family, and RRS #5

Hello avid readers!

It has been well over two years since I have posted to this blog, and while I do love keeping up with the horror movie blog, I have missed the cathartic experience of writing about myself.  Haha.  Or is that a narcissistic experience?  Whatever.  Since a lengthy stretch of time has elapsed, I feel like I should update you on my life, starting with

Ridiculous Random Story #5

This one is pretty comprehensive, as it ties in my pageant background with my current life.

Once upon a time, I won Miss Thousand Islands in 2008.  Little did I know that one of the judges would have a pretty big impact on my adult life.  Deltra Willis was one of those 5 judges who seemed to think I would do a pretty decent job as a titleholder, and then she soon started dating a lovely fellow by the name of Stan.  Fast forward one year to my warm up interview for Miss Thousand Islands 2009, where Stan was on the panel and also thought I could do a great job as a titleholder.  Too bad I was giving up my crown and wasn't actually competing, haha.  Fast forward to my first year on the Miss Thousand Islands board of directors.  I was basically there for talent prep, interview prep, and to voice my opinion, and often ran into Deltra and Stan who were both on the board.  They had mentioned occasionally that Deltra's son, Andrew, was a really nice guy and that I should meet him.  I had heard that before, and was flattered at the offer, but was already seeing someone.

That next summer, at the pageant workshop, we were at Deltra's house and I was running a modeling workshop.  Andrew was "supposed" to come but did not make it for one reason or another.  Offered as a nice substitute, were some dashing photos of him and his band, "Bye George".

Deltra kept suggesting we meet, and I found it hard to imagine what he looked like in present day based on photos from his youth.  I found myself not really keen on the idea, as it felt like I was potentially meeting someone the age of the students that I taught.

Seven months later, I volunteered to help with the Miss Thousand Islands Outstanding Teen Pageant.  I was teaching the girls how to model, and helping with talent.  I had also volunteered to sing, and to twirl my baton to a Michael Buble song.  Lo and behold, Andrew was showing up later to do sound.  "Oh brother", I thought.  I was kind of preoccupied with the contestants while he entered, and it wasn't until Deltra brought it up that I noticed him, and boy did I ever notice him.  It was that feeling you hear about in movies, but don't think is really real.  At the time, I attributed it to the expectation of seeing a 16 year old boy with braces, but being pleasantly surprised with the outcome, but I obviously now realize it was something more.

We introduced ourselves, and I ran through both my divertissements.  After the pageant was over, we chit chatted, and then he had to pack up sound and leave.  That was it.  No phone number exchange, no offer for a date, nada.  I wasn't disappointed, I was offended!  Why wouldn't he want to ask me out?  I'm pretty awesome and we had a lot in common!  (See above note: narcissism)  I went home and Facebook stalked him, but wait...he wasn't on Facebook!  It was then I really had to question if I wanted to pursue anyone who wasn't part of the Facebook virtual world.  I then did the most/least sensible thing anyone would do in this situation: I asked his mother for his e-mail address.

Okay.  That sounds crazy, and I have to admit that at the time I felt crazy doing so.  I just kept remembering that feeling I had.  I am not one to ignore these kind of things, and the worst case scenario if I asked was that she'd say no, or he would genuinely not be interested after getting to know me.  If I didn't ask, however, I couldn't help feeling like I would never know what would have become of our acquaintance/friendship/relationship.  She gladly gave me two e-mail addresses, along with his cell phone number, haha.  I am still very grateful to her for forking over her only son's personal information to someone who seemed really desperate!

It took me what seemed like forever to write the perfect, witty, non-stalkerish e-mail.  It was on February 13th, 2012.  We started dating on March 8th, 2012, and got engaged October 1st, 2013.  We will be happily married on August 16th, 2014!

So that's our story.  We have to constantly thank Stan and Deltra for persisting that we get acquainted, otherwise we likely would never have met.  In addition to being able to see these two wonderful people much more frequently, I also got to meet and fall in love with his whole family, including his sister, Deltra Lynne, his brother-in-law, Darrell, his two nephews, William and Zachary, his niece, Deltra Elliott (Ellie), his dad, Jim, and his step-mother, Hildegard, among MANY other family members and friends along the way.  I am so blessed to be a part of this wonderful group of people, and to call this handsome man my fiancee, and soon to be husband:

Oops, wrong photo.  I mean, THIS handsome man...

Again, I am so grateful for my path leading me to find this wonderful soul mate of mine.  Had it not been for pageantry, and the long list of friendships I have made through it, I would not be able to boast about Andrew being the center of my life.  I can now, proudly be added to the list of Miss America competitors that found her husband through pageant connections.

I intend on updating this blog a little more frequently, so keep up with me here, and on www.filmfilteroff.blogspot.com.

Much love,

Corri