Mercies in Disguise

 

It was July of 2014 when we had a beautiful honeymoon trip to the hills and nature of Gatlinburg, Tennessee! Our 3 year marriage anniversary, and 6 years total! This is where our planned pregnancy was conceived. Yes, Planned. July 23rd, and the results are in- we are pregnant! We sure hope it’s a girl! 6 weeks later, the beauty was interrupted my unwavering nausea, waling headaches, and endless amounts of medication to control every symptom of morning sickness known to man. It was then that our obstetrician opted for a fetal scan for a multiples pregnancy. Yeah, right. We had always joked about the possibility of having twins, but never really named it a reality.

 And here we are, they see what seems like maybe two heartbeats? But surely it couldn’t be twins… One nurse comes in, the next nurse comes in. My lady parts have been on full display with a poking rod visually inspecting every corner of my uterus for the past 20 minutes after 5 hours of waiting (literally)….and here we are. “We’ve never seen twins this close together!” ..Twins.. We are having… Twins. When we originally found out we were having twins, I was so angry with God. I didn’t want twins. I was still scared that I could not love one child as much as Camdyn, and now two!? It was too early to be able to detect any sort of divide in the amniotic sacs, so 6 days later we returned… Mono-amniotic twins.

We were sort of rushed out of the doctor’s office, as they were very busy at the time. I grew concerned over the “closeness” comment, and the fact they were puzzled looking at the screen and only based on my research did I know that they were mono-amniotic. Why weren’t these doctors telling me? And why do I feel as if there is something much larger that they are not sure of? With no further expressed concern, I opted for a 2nd opinion and they got us in THAT day. After maybe all of 5 seconds of the uterus-poking-rod being inserted it was confirmed. What we thought may have been our worst fear, was confirmed.

When we originally found out we were having twins, I was so angry with God. I didn’t want twins. I was still scared that I could not love one child as much as Camdyn, and now two!? We were finally adjusting that we were having twins, and the excitement of the love that they were going to bring to our family, was going to be far beyond measure. Our twins failed to separate, and they are….conjoined. My thoughts…”Like Siamese twins?” I sure nailed it.

We were informed that sometimes the ultrasound techs get “gun-shy” and they are too unsure on how to relay the news, so they don’t. In this case, I could have not been more thankful for the honesty and compassion in our techs voice and actions. As she walked out of the room to get our nurse, I looked over and saw tears fill my husband’s eyes. He turned red as if he may explode from trying to hold in a sobbing cry similar to mine. My brain turned into some sort of 1,000 question marquee with every one of them quickly scrolling through my mind’s eye. An overwhelming amount of information, that resulted in a secluded, and blank stare at the wall blurred through the tears as I was trying to gather an internal list of questions I never thought I would have to ask or know the answer to. We met with the doctor, and stumbled over our noses our faces were so far buried in the ground to disguise some amount of discomfort and pain, allowing the tears to hit the floor rather than stream down our faces. We again, thanked another person for their answers, and were on to our next set of appointments.

The days went by endlessly, and mindlessly. Like a daze, and zombie effect that couldn’t have been any louder, and less controlled. My immediate reaction after the shock was zeroing in was the logical end of survival. The one that tells me that I am going to have to quit school, and quit my job to take care of them properly, and that I couldn’t place the trust in others to do so. How was I going to sacrifice everything in my life to only allow two babies as one ONLY live? They would ONLY sustain life, they would never be able to live it. And what does this do to Camdyn? I didn’t want to make this kind of decision, but at that point in time abortion DID cross my mind! I have a child HERE I have to think about. I cannot sacrifice him along with everything else—But isn’t that what we do as parents? Isn’t THAT what I signed up for? We were sent to several high risk doctors that would tell us our options were to maintain the pregnancy, or not- but no sensible answers as to what would have been morally or physically correct. No one could have taken on that kind of liability. We discovered in the appointment that the twins were conjoined in a way that they could share heart chambers, they could be fused at the head, and they could also share numerous internal organs. They would not be able to determine the full anatomy or likelihood of survival completely until they were at least 21 weeks or so gestation which was after our time frame to terminate. In the state of Indiana, you can only terminate up until 20 weeks. We wanted to keep our options open, even though my underlying faith says “termination is abortion! It is murder!” How could I even consider killing the babies that I PLANNED for? Our twins at that point in time, had less than a 1% chance of surviving delivery, and no chance of survival once they were out of the womb- we were told. Basically how it was said “These twins are not conjoined in a way where you see them successfully surviving or being separated on Dr. Oz or Television programs.” We were also told that the cesarean to remove this set of conjoined twins would be traumatizing to my body and that the potential was very high that the scarring would not allow us any more children. So here I am. I am going to have twins that will die….. And I may not have any children after to fill this void, knowing how great it will be.

Wow. And here I am again… Do I risk it all and birth them, only to say goodbye? To hold them in my arms and watch as they slowly drift away into a slumber, knowing all too well I will forever have to live with the image engrained in every ounce of my being…of them in my arms. Dead. I get the saying that people use that a fetus means as much to the world, as let’s say your physical child does… It is not true for me, and I can nearly say this as for all who would experience the tribulation. At the point that I knew that they would not live, I could no longer fathom the thought of trying to bond with them knowing their fate, and potentially mine too (The pregnancy and delivery could have been fatal- low potential, but still there) We knew we had to make a decision, and I have never been so tormented. So humiliated, angered, embarrassed, terrified, and anguished. I was desperate for hope that I couldn’t find. Amidst this, a story broke about a family who had a bucket list for their child who they knew would not survive and how greatly I admired their bravery, but could not compare the situation as terribly as Satan was encouraging me to. She could birth her child and have another if she so chose to…Our potential may not have been there.

Today I choose to tell you my journey about an early delivery. You call it abortion, termination, or murder! An at times, I did too until I lived it. I lived it, until I called it compassion. I loved them so much, I didn’t want them to experience the pain and fate that was ahead of them. I wanted them to go peacefully even if that meant that I had to endure the pain. Yes, I did. The pain of regret, and remorse even though I know I made the correct decision for them. I didn’t think that God could forgive me for what I had done, even though every compassionate and Godly part of my body told me it HAD to be! We chose early delivery for our pregnancy because we knew our precious girls could never live. I couldn’t handle holding them and burying them…Yes, I so vividly hear the echoes saying “Well isn’t that what you did anyway?” I did choose a burial service for the girls following our “early delivery”, and I did hold their remains before they were buried…But regardless of what anyone says, it was NOT the same as if I had held them in my arms alive before as a fully formed child. Emotionally, it was not the same. For me, and my family of three anyhow. We kissed them, we held them, and we spoke with them just as you would. We told them hello, before we had to tell them goodbye.

You have these precious moments, minutes-- maybe even seconds of life before you and they are gone. I didn't want to share them, and I didn't want a family member to have to live with if they were in the room when it happened either! So much of this world sees this as a cowardly decision, and so much of me thought it was too, until I had to make it. I can tell you that having birthed them would have been much easier of a decision, than what I had to endure --so that I didn’t have to see them in pain. It is undeniably selfish for me, but in that EXACT same token, I know God didn’t want pain for them and God gave me compassion. I still live in the pain every day of what if, or act like I had a choice when in all reality… I didn’t. I am PRO-LIFE…NOT pro-birth in my particular situation.

If birthing my child, only to watch it die makes me the perfect parent, then maybe that is what I should have done to avoid your, or anyone else’s invalid judgment. If parents find comfort in doing so, then I fully understand your decision and am not there to judge them the same way I beg them not to judge me. My experience of days of having luminaria (a dried seaweed used to absorb fluid in your cervix) knowing what I was slowly doing. I was slowly preparing for an abortion. To kill the children that I had begged God for. There were days I would plead to God to take them before I had to.

 And here I am again. Alone. All alone in this procedure room.

 Naked.

Vulnerable.

Having this seaweed inserted to slowly drain the life from my children which I chose... I opted to pay for a surgical procedure. I chose this option, because I wanted NO recollection of the surgery, to hear any of the sounds, or forever be traumatized by the sights that would be involved in the process. I walked, bare naked, into an operating room… Hoisted myself up on the operating table to have my gown removed and exposed to the world.

 *Here I am world, naked and a murderer with 12+ people in the room knowing what I am doing!*

I am not a fan of nakedness at all, and it makes me terrified the thought alone. I am in here, with the children my husband and I so willingly created, and I had to do this alone. (They would not let my husband back because we had Camdyn [2 year old son] because we couldn’t find anyone to watch him during the procedure) The emotions that take over, I began to shake.. I was so cold. I was so scared. All I wanted was to HAVE my babies, but I couldn’t. Trembling, crying, and not being able to look at anyone in the room for fear of judgment. I began to shake so terribly, my heart was pounding with every breath I couldn’t catch through my cries…. And then, I was awakened. I felt a shake and heard “It’s all over, you are in your recovery room, Chelsea” and before my eyes even opened to see daylight they welled full of tears, and I began to scream. The type of scream I would only relentlessly let out in a case of torture or beating… But isn’t that what this is?

That is exactly what this pain feels like. The internal, and emotional pain. What had I just done? I went to sleep with my babies in a beautiful, and seamless slumber inside, and now they are gone. Forever, and it is all my fault. How am I going to live with this? Everything reminded me of that day, and the days leading up to it. The decision that we had to fearfully, and yet so bravely make. Kind of contradictory, isn’t it? In the days following my procedure, I soberly knitted a casket blanket to hold my babies forever, like I wished so terribly I could have done. I made a wreath with ribbons for “Daughter, Sister” and submitted our obituaries. I wanted to give them the respect they deserved and the honor they would have never had to earn! I bought a onesie, that they both would have worn to go home, together. My intentions were to place their remains in this onesie knitted together forever. Upon arrival of the funeral home, the person up front had mentioned that their remains were not yet placed in the casket. At the time, I assumed this meant raw remains.

I was recommended the night before by the director, not to review the remains as it would not be steadfast in the healing process. At that moment, I so undesirably volunteered to do so because I so desperately needed to tell them hello, before I had to tell them goodbye. I looked at the small container covered with pink tulle and ran out to grab my husband so that he can hold his sense of closure in his hands. He needed to do the same, and we needed to do this as a family. As we stood in front of the 15 roses, and the 15 carnations all in pink…the child size casket.. and a beautiful flower arrangement that couldn’t have compared to their beauty we made our final hello’s and goodbyes. We kissed the beautiful container, which even yet was another reminder with my hospital sticker attached to the side so beautifully wrapped in attempt to hide the gruesome contents inside, which was the cold hard, image of my choices and they laid it my blood. At that moment, It wasn’t until almost two weeks later that I realized that it wasn’t my blood they were laying in… It was their own.

Some days, I can’t live with that image… and others, I think that it was easier than living with the image of them dying in my arms. It's terrifying to share this experience with anyone, but it gets easier, and helps us emotionally sometimes to retype, and relive the moment to gather the same assurance that God had laid a windy road for me with numerous forks, but somehow I feel we prevailed.

Our faith in the depths of the darkest valleys, let us to a mountaintop that only had one path up. At the top of this mountaintop we found Christ. We found beauty and a new faith in the ways of this world, and our every blessing is accounted for. Today, I shared with you my journey on early delivery. Today, I ask you not to judge my situation but to show compassion to myself and others just as God has shown to us. I know God will know the beauty and compassion in my heart and tell his child that all decisions made through Christ, are magical. My two babies lay in the hands of God and I will spend the rest of my life on this physical earth making sure that I meet them again!

 

 

 

I hope that the fear of condemnation does not so greatly affect the others who are put in such a terrible position that they cannot find any sense of gravity. I could not find help or hope, because I was too scared of the opinions. PLEASE, seek opinions. Medical and Professional and don’t stop until God tells you to! Trust in him, and all the decisions you make WITH christ, will guide you to acceptance. Let me phrase that again, will GUIDE you to acceptance- but will not declare you acceptance.

Love, The Burrell that Believes

 

Smooth Sailing

Every day I think about my struggles. It is truly NOT every day that I think about the blessings that I am offered- Big or small. Every day I manage to think about something I wish I would have done differently, or a decision that I could have made or not made, or something I wish I could manage/do better....But there are only a select few days amidst that, that I think... "Wow, I am truly blessed" But I am! You are!

I spend days preaching in my job that "No one ever learned anything by doing things right all the time, someone-somewhere had to mess up so that they could learn that there was a correct way and an incorrect way!" So why can't we seem to apply this even in our own life?

I have been on a spiritual journey. A roller coaster. An undeniably foggy path of faith. But every day it becomes more clear, more smooth, and more calm. I am trudging in unchartered territory, and yet I have never felt so far from being alone- because I am a testimony of God. I will never again be alone.

There are some days that you or I may think that we have this "Faith thing" figured out. We don't. I assure you we do not, and will not and that is OKAY! Every day I am now excited to not only be successful, but also to see how my failures will teach me and help me to grow in a relationship with God and to stop being so controlling in the stormy waters, and Let GOD! I am working on this. I am not excited about this every day, but I am fortunate enough to be able to say that I trust God and him allowing me every day to make the decisions that I do in free will.

Like I mentioned in my last few posts, it wasn't until recently that I had my "Come to Jesus" if you will. It wasn't until I had to face a pain that my human self could not recognize or tolerate without falling to God and begging him to help me tolerate my situation. In the same token, I was so angry with him! How could he let this happen! He allowed this to happen, and here I am crying out to him to help me?

God gave me a situation where I was in the depths of anger, torturing myself and mind, and my. most. vulnerable. God took me when I was weak and gave me the opportunity to use him to build myself back up.

Mind you, I make all of my decisions based almost solely on logic. Decisions on things that are tangible, understandable, and definable. I could not do any of those things with God, until for nights, days, hours....I prayed to him. Have you ever felt that when you closed your eyes and prayed to God, this sheer warmth, yet chilling blanket wraps around you from behind and it offers the relief you have searched for? When you feel a white, and innocent burning flame inside your body that is so docile and caring? It is God. For me, it is the Holy Spirit speaking to me directly without ever having to say a word. And guess what? I can't touch it....I can't understand it, and I still can't define it. But I believe.

I am thankful for every struggle, and every blessing. I will continue to praise and grow in my relationship with God during the storms, and calm water. The calm water, is after all the most beautiful after a storm.



Love,
The Born-Again Burrell

From Victim to Survivor

 

It is one of those days today. One of those days where we all struggle with something that we know every one of you are struggling with as well to some degree, or in some aspect of your life. We all need a reminder of forgiveness and understanding and knowing who the real victim is in it all.  I have faced a number of words, or comments about my recent life events (I know, I keep dragging this on and on don't I?) and yesterday I found resolution in myself with the untruths or truths, or things that were said by individuals who didn't even understand that what they said was hurtful. How many times have I done that same thing? How many times have I said something so green and innocent and did not realize how sharp and painful it could have been to the person in the conversation?

 

 I recently have held on to so much pain inside, and anger with myself that I felt it was everyone's right to make me feel how I have been forcing myself to feel.

 

In retrospect, I see that I have done this a lot-- not only in this circumstance but in seemingly millions of others as well. Give yourself a break today! You deserve it. While I sit back and think about how many times I've done it-- how many times has it been done to me?

 

Gossip is such a terribly deceitful and unfulfilling thing. You are not a victim, you are a survivor. Those who can gossip, or repeat unverified information-- they are the victim. Being a survivor is understanding that you must forgive others for their actions and not forget all the good in them based on moments of human weakness.

 

You've heard "Kill them with kindness"

Let's not do that, but rather keep your inner peace with kindness.

 

The moment you let others opinions of you, your lifestyle, or your ability to make YOUR own decisions affect those same things- you allow them to victimize you. You allow them to make you feel less than, or even embarrassment. No one has that right unless you let them! Be the change you want to see in the world. {I know I ripped that off from someone I should quote} Forgiveness and Understanding is a beautiful trait to have. Use it!

 

Love,

The Benevolent Burrell

The Melancholy of Love...

Love is such a scary thing isn't it?

I am not talking the price of love...The endless poopy diapers, or the constant sacrifice of being a parent (although that stuff is scary!) Or the need to stay thin, or keep the house clean for your partner (Let's face it, that is a scary thought too!)

Loving someone so deeply, is the most fulfilling, yet scariest task you will ever take on in  your lifetime. We all wait for "the one" so that we can love so deeply and gloat about this new experience that we have had with love and how it is nothing we have ever felt before. It is bliss, it is admiration....it's all of the good things in life. It is so pure, and exciting! It's not even a 'glass half full' type-of-thing. This is a GLASS FULL OF WINE type thing! (That reference would be even better if I actually liked wine- so for me, this is a 'GLASS FULL OF CHOCOLATE MILK' type-of-thing!)

Then, you have child(ren). Let me tell you, and then when you have children you realize that the love...^^^^That love, in that paragraph up there....It was only the building blocks for the love you feel now. The love you are sharing with your child is the deepest, brightest, most honest....and most terrifying love you will ever have the pleasure of knowing- but never understanding.

I think the hardest part for most beings in life is loving or being loved...because associated with such a deep, rich love- comes such melancholy. One day, I know I could be without this person(s). I have no control over how long they are here with me, and I have no timeline or understandable list of events. As much as I wish I could put my husband and son in isolation and in the sole act of selfishness- not let them experience the same life that will eventually be taken from them; I can't. I have to spend the time we do have-- actually living!

Maybe the living part strikes more fear than the loving? We have to live on an unknown list that we have no idea of how quickly the timer is ticking away. All I can do is trust God, hold them tight each opportunity that I have, and know the richness they have brought to my living and hoping I have brought the same to theirs.

I have spent many days, and sleepless nights just reaching this in random thought and not one time has it struck any less fear, than any other. The price of love!

Love and Melancholy....Isn't that the truth. John 14:27 - "Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful"

Love,
The Blanched Burrell

Shut the door!

Why is it so hard to shut the door on your past sometimes? Why do we allow ourselves to feel the helplessness and fear that we felt when we were rejected in high school?

You got on a Walmart shirt, that only cost you $3? Hey girl-- you look awesome. You ROCK that!

You're (me) graduating from a community college and it took you four years because you are a full time mom and need time for yourself in there somewhere? Heck ya! Caps off to me!

I act like it's others faults that people (basically referring to myself) feel this way, but in reality it's basically because I have this complete and insane idea that everyone spends all hours of their day focusing and criticizing every detail of my life.. Shut the door, Chelsea! No one has time for that!

....oh, you have that disease too? The "imprettysurethatinnocentconversationabouticecreammeanstheyhatemyhair" Disease? Weird. Must be contagious.

I also have the "howdoyoumakelessmoneythanmeandyouhavenicerthings" jitters. In addition to the "Iwishmymommyanddaddystillpaidforallmyshit" sniffles.

In reality, I spend the most of my days trying to uncover how it is that I can make myself better, or have nicer things, or have a better behaved child than yours. Yep, I said it. I'm awkward.

I told you to check your judgmental woes at the door, didn't I? There's only enough room for my judgment in here. Unfortunately sometimes, I am the victim of my own worst judgment--and then I try to pity myself for it.

Oh, Chelsea.. You just stubbed your toe? You should have ice cream to fix that.

Sometimes, we need to envision [in a literal sense] slamming the door in judgment's face, and move on! You may think your better than me, but in the end we all die.

Love,

The Brash Burrell

How do you know?

Sometimes I find myself with the awful uncertainty of if I made the best of my life, or if I have reached the peak of the best I will ever be.

Is there something else out there for me? Did I leave a rock unturned? Have I reached my maximum potential? ......Am I the best I will ever be... Is my life the best it will ever be? Is my LOVE the best it will ever be able to love.

Wow.. How do you answer this? How can anyone answer this--how does anyone know? We don't know and we have to lead all our decisions based on fate or faith, whichever succumbs to you first. It's such a scary thought, isn't it? Almost like playing the lottery...if you will. Or you are like me...Scared of the lottery. Scared of losing money, although the potential to gain is there; I will never trust it.

Sometimes we make our decisions based on the best well being of all parties, and for the majority of the rest. Fear. We make our decisions based on fear.

Fear of failing. Fear of losing something. Fear of judgement. Fear of, most everything.

I choose to be Brave today. I choose to make decisions because I know they are going to take me somewhere, not in fear of the obstacles I may have to face while I get there. So why don't you go be brave too.... We could all use a little toughening-up I suppose.

Love,
The Brave Burrell

When will faith find you?

With all of life's events that have occurred recently, I can tell you I have undoubtedly questioned my faith, my beliefs, and mostly myself. When you walk into a storm, it is an act of nature and is never foreseen. You will never know the outcome of that storm and that is what changes you.

During your storms, trials, and tribulations- you will change. You will come out a different person....that is what the storm is all about. You were MEANT for that storm, and that storm was meant for you.

Recently I have faced a number of storms. High winds, torturous howling winds (which were mainly critical and howling unwanted opinions, but you get the logic) but what I found in those storms.... was fear. You thought I was going to say something inspirational about how I overcame my fear during the storm? No. Let's face one thing, and we will not mention this again. Anything that is out of my control, is out of style! It is not cool. When things are beyond my control, and I have to have the ability to have faith in something beyond myself--[Insert hysterics]

I am one of those that will stay up beyond the latest hours of the night, thinking of all those things that I need to write down on a list and hoping that I remember them come morning- of course I could stop and write them down then as well. I am guilty of being the same person that will lay in bed for two hours thinking that, that pool of urine residing in my bladder is just going to disappear so I can return to an uninterrupted slumber. No, again. With those somewhat related comparisons above, I can tell you that I have waited for God to find me and found every reason to not find him-- or not to, I guess, fully accept him into my heart. Whether it is based on procrastination or depending on something beyond my control, I am not fully sure.

I've never embraced and/or jumped aboard the faith train, I guess because I never felt enough pain to where I KNEW I could no longer have control over. I had to give control to the only person, the only being, the only power that I knew could understand and empathize with my pain, my regret, and my ignorance.

>I< cannot control all situations. >I< cannot control everyone. Hey, and neither can you! (So now we have something in common, if we didn't already!) ( I also apologize for the overuse of "!" in my blogs- I am an excited talker/blogger)

I pray at night. I pray in the morning. I pray when I'm stressed, and I EVEN pray to just say thank you to God for sometimes just listening! I can't tell you that I have all the divine faith that I should, but I am growing in a relationship with God-- not only for me, not only for my husband (My marriage), and not only for my Children, but also because I want to see others do the same and not be ashamed because I have felt the peace in things beyond my control. I am not a veteran Christian. I have always known there was SOMETHING out there, that heard me...But up until a few weeks ago, I never embraced the beauty that was behind that listening ear.

My storms were meant for me. My storms were like none I've ever experienced, but they washed me ashore to something new, and something incredible that I have shared with my husband. You want to know something funny? My husband and I were requested to say a prayer about two months ago and we both stood in headlights like we were undressing in front of each other for the first time....Then we went back to kindergarten "Not it!" "No you do it first" "I don't want to!"

We were embarrassed to say a prayer. Something seemingly so natural. My storms washed away that embarrassment and has allowed a blossoming into full conversation about God and how now, we are embarrassed that we were embarrassed! (Did you follow that?)

So moral of all this mumbo-jumbo talk about myself...Embrace your storm. Allow the thunder to roll, and the lightning to strike. Pray to God for acceptance, peace, free will, understanding, a good dinner to tide over your sadness eating (Don't feel bad, I do it too). But know that even when he can't calm the storm, he will be there for you when that storm is raging AND when it is over. He wants you to need him, and seek him. He will USE you.

Love,

The Blissful Burrell

Change is Life's necessity

 

 

 

 

Some of the hardest days for me are those that involve change or separation from the normal pattern of "life". Some days I think about where I want to be and why I'm not there, and others content with the success that has driven me right to where I am. Change is such a necessity. The most dangerous change, and the otherwise most uncomfortable can lead you to the most beautiful places.

Recently, I was thinking about the change of a butterfly and the comparison it offers to the metamorphosis of life and faith. A caterpillar builds a cocoon just like we build our lives and in the end, they trust that they will come out this beautiful being, and they most certainly do. Butterflies are often felt as a wink from the heavens. I have no doubt about it that one day I want to transform.

 

 I want to turn into a beautiful being. I must first accept and allow change, and know that if change never happened, and times in life never hurt....I would not understand the beauty of the change.

Life is always going to be filled with regret. Whether you are carrying it for yourself or you feel the pains of seeing someone with regret we must all understand that change is inevitable and so is regret and remorse. We live in a world where we second guess ourselves and we lose faith at the cost of our own security.

Today, I am thankful for change as hard as it can be sometimes- It can lead us through dark places into some of the brightest futures. I am thankful that I have the ability to fail so that I can understand success. But most importantly today I am so thankful that I have the ability to change and change can happen around me, because every day- I want to continue to change for the better.

Love,
The Blessed Burrell

Blinded by social media

It is absolutely amazing to me how much social media has integrated itself into even the most basic functions in our life. Whether  you are brushing your teeth and tweeting, or laying in bed scrolling thru your facebook feed....

I am amazed, astonished, and deeply saddened of how sometimes I am incapable of looking up and noticing things that are outside my phone. Are we blinded by social media? Where hugs turned into "cheer up" on facebook. When sending flowers to someone turned into "prayers to you" on facebook. When meeting someone in person for the first time, turned into you plastering your nudy photos in their inbox.

CHRIST!

Social media makes me feel full. Like people actually care about my life. I can talk to people that otherwise wouldn't talk to me if I ran into them in the local walmart, or worse... I would focus intently at that mascara until they walked away because they may notice me, and that I look nothing like my edited facebook profile picture.

It allows us access to things that deceive us. I spent so much time at one point when I was younger making sure EVERYTHING Why should I care? Facebook was a way for people to manipulate.. to deceive, to falsify. She just got a new car? "hey honey, let's go car shopping." Oh ya girl, you got it going on? "Hey honey, I just got two new gym memberships that we will pay a stupid rate on for the next three years!"

DISGUSTING.

I guess I finally reached an age where I got tired of being my own worst competition or I realized my own self worth. I. am. worthy.

I am worthy of saying HI to one of my "friends"
I am worthy of posting unedited photos on my facebook page so I don't have to ignore them in public
I am worthy of posting whatever the hell I wanna post
I am worthy of judging you on whatever the hell you wanna post

When birthdays, turned into tagging someone on facebook instead of a card, or in person visit. I have several people on my facebook that I probably wouldn't know in person. I have several people on my facebook that I only keep there-- to see what stupid thing they will post next. I stalk old friends to see how they are and be jealous if they are doing better than me.

I told you this was a judgement free zone.

I want to meet my facebook friends!



Love,

The blinded Burrell

Air your laundry in the backyard.

So welcome a new blogger. Me.

Check your judgmental woes at the door  [internet portal that you got here from] and understand I am a mom, a wife, a Human Resources Coordinator...A good mom, a good wife, a good Human Resources Coordinator. In no way, shape or form-- am I a grammar junkie, a self proclaimed politician, or any other nonsense.

Enjoy my blog or get out of it! But in all reality, our backyard can be boring so I should reiterate that particular phrase.

My idea in my blog is that someone will grab onto the idea of the Burrell Backyard. I think of when I was small and you look outside and see those beautiful white sheets flowing in the wind hanging on the clothesline, pinned with perfection.

Mine have poop stains from my two year old, tarnished with dog hair, and the every day wear and tear.. Imagine this blog as airing out our laundry.

Our sheets may not be white, elegant, or hung with perfection-- but they serve the purpose...

I am a Mom-- virtually living in the middle of nowhere- that wishes to share her comedic take on life and it's everyday hassles, blunders, and successes- you've been warned.

All my love,

The Bunting Burrell