Disclaimer: This blog is not a dramatic cry for help for myself personally – I’m okay. This is written on behalf of all adoptive moms going through tough seasons. It certainly does not apply to every adopted child and adopted mom or every season. My only goal is to help other adoptive mothers in the thick of it not feel so alone, and moreso, to help their friends get one step closer to caring for them. I have many friends who have adopted and need support from those closest to them, and we don’t know how to tell you that. This blog is my attempt to raise their voices (not just mine). This is OUR cry for help.

We know the reasons they hate us.

They were abandoned. They were abused. They were lied to. They weren’t fed. They weren’t loved.

They were thrown away like a piece of trash. Over and over again.

They have EVERY. FRICKIN. REASON to hate us – to not trust us.

Life. Can. Suck.

Sure, it can be great too. But there’s no denying its suckiness at times.

Last year, Brandon and I started planning the kid-free, work-free trip of our dreams to Hawaii for our 5th anniversary and my 30th. We were already exhausted with the business and the whole becoming-parents-overnight thing.

Real talk: while you wouldn’t have seen it on Instagram, I truly felt like I was hanging on by a thread most days.

It’s 5:45 a.m. and Brandon just handed me the cute coffee mug I convinced him I just had to have in order to stay motivated to blog last winter. After not blogging for three months, guilt wins the day.  It just feels wrong to sip that $10.99 Francesca’s mug reading “Blogging Day” without really blogging, don’t you think?

Also, it’s bad when your opening paragraph is off-subject already.

Oh, wait no, I think I can make a Segway.

Blogging. I really do love it. I get to ramble through my insane thought processes and then the World Wide Web lets me publish them…for free. People from all 50 states, China, England, Mexico, Iceland – they ALL have access to my blog – because these thoughts are that good (currently my readership is more like my mom and my cousin, but the cousin is in Iowa so that’s a really big deal).

I got off-subject again. Let me retry that paragraph.

Blogging. Why do I have time all of the sudden?

Oh yeah, my husband quit his job last week.

My dog, Izzy, sure is cute, but she isn’t the brightest pup in the land.

So when she saw a skunk at 11 p.m. last night, she decided it wanted to play.

Three peroxide, Dawn and baking soda bath’s later I’m pretty sure she regrets that decision.

Well, I’d like to think that, but let’s be honest- if given the chance, she’d probably go back for round two.

Want to know what is even better about my dog getting skunked? I didn’t realize she was sprayed until she had been in the house 10 minutes. When the putrid smell filled my nostrils after letting her in, I instead spent my time trying to figure out if the tenants upstairs were using Nair on their hairy man legs.

That gave Izzy plenty of time to lay on two couches, two rugs and the carpet in the guest room.

Thanks, Izzy.

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When Brandon and I decided to buy a home in need of some major TLC, I knew it was going to cause some stress, but considering my nickname is “JoJo” I assumed I would easily kick into Joanna Gaines mode.

Ummm…no.

I’m apparently more like the JoJo from JoJo’s Circus.