Arkansas Women Bloggers Unplugged: Bedazzled Chacos, Y’all!

Last year, I attended Arkansas Women Bloggers Unplugged Conference. I decided I needed some Chacos and I bedazzled them…. because I am looney. I’d show you pictures, but shortly after I returned from the conference I lost ALL of my computer content :(   I am headed to the conference again this year. This time I won’t be pregnant. This time I’ll be able to drink. If they thought I said off the wall shit LAST year, ooooh boy… hand me some wine and keep your conservative friends in their cabins ladies…it is about to get crazy! * Do remember while reading this post that I do not have multiple personalities, Sadie and I were still blogging together the time this entry was posted.


The Brokins are going to Arkansas Women Bloggers Unplugged! Are you? If not… you should. All the cool kids are doing it, if you loved me you would, and all that other peer pressure stuff…

For real, though. We were offered an awesome opportunity to attend the inaugural conference and I am very excited.

We are super excited to meet new  women who share our passion for online voyeurism blogging. I am sure we will come back from the conference with fun stories, new insights, and a few mosquito bites. The conference is at Ozark Natural Science Center

I have been corresponding with Bethany Stephens over at Carpe Diem and I am pretty excited to visit, for the very first time, the Ozark Natural Science Center. She assures me that I won’t need Chacos for this adventure I am about to undertake. Pssh…. I kid that I can’t become *that* crunchy (I eat organic/local and use natural body products and frequently forget to shave my armpits, so technically I am already halfway there!)…. but I have always wanted to revolutionize a trend. Come on Y’all. Say it with me: “BEDAZZLED CHACOS” Now I know, the term “bedazzle” takes you back to really badly crafted jean jackets and such, but have a little faith in me. Do I ever do tacky? I mean OTHER than the time(s) I posted about my vagina, or when I wore unitards that snapped in the crotch, or stirrup pants with oversized knitted sweaters, or when I went through that Tony Orlando phase…

OK GEEZ! I get the point- STOP ALREADY! I *might* have some issues with my taste. Alas I am what I am.

I digress.

Chacos. I am gonna buy ’em. I am gonna bedazzle ’em, and EVERYONE at the conference is going to want them. Just like everyone eventually decided that Tony Orlando WAS as awesome as I have always known he was is. You doubt me??? WHY else would they have given him his own theater in Branson!

Knock Three Times, Y’all!




Saying Goodbye to Sadie

When Sadie and I started this blog, I knew what I was getting into, but she didn’t. I told her, ” I am going to be a writer, I am going to blog and write a book, I am going to work in social media and create a career that works the way I want it.” Sadie has learned that when I say I am going to do something, I really do it. We wanted a way to chronicle our hilarious antics, our experience as friends, and a place to make fun of people.We do that a lot- make fun of people… but the people we make fun of are mostly each other 😉 mostly.

When our blog took off and began to take on a life of its own I ran with it…and Sadie… she sat down and hyperventilated. I felt empowered by putting what I was experiencing out there and Sadie felt utterly naked and vulnerable. One of the ways that our friendship has always worked is that I find the words and say them aloud while Sadie flaps her hands. I don’t say this with derision- it just is who we are. I love this characteristic about Sadie and about us. During the life of our blog we have experienced marriages that have had to be given mouth to mouth, depression, anxiety, postpartum depression/psychosis, life, death, and all the talking points in between.

So now I am moving toward working in social media, I am a writer, and I am working on my book (surprise!!).

And Sadie?

Well… Sadie is one of those people I talked about in this blog post. She is someone who still in the jungle… trying to figure out how to gain her footing and tangled in vines.

She is on her journey.

She is not ready to tell her story.

She may never be able to publicly tell her story.

So is saying goodbye to Sadie as co-author. will become mine alone. 

When Sadie and I started talking about where she was at with the blog I already knew where she was at. Her blog posts were becoming fewer and fewer and I was watching the work she was doing in her personal life. The thing about Sadie is that at some point in her life someone convinced her that she didn’t matter. Her food preferences, clothes, books, opinions… someone taught her that what she wanted and needed was of no importance. Throughout our friendship I have seen this baggage play out in her life. So when she told me she needed to become invisible in the social media world, maybe journal privately, and insulate herself


I  am so fucking proud of you! I am proud of each post you authored on TheBrokins. I am proud of each time you reached deep and wrote down your truth. YOU matter. YOU deserve love and goodness. YOU are important. I am a little sad I don’t get to show you off on the internets anymore… because you are pretty much amazing, but I am NOT sad that you did one of the hardest things one can do: face possibly disappointing a friend. I am not disappointed- and neither are the readers! We are so proud of you- proud momma watching their kid graduate with honors-proud. Simultaneously I am humbled to have shared this virtual space with you.  Your friendship has made me a better version of myself.

Take care of you.


I am still holding your hand through this journey of yours.

Thank you for the time you shared here. I hope I make you proud.


Avoiding the Lo Mein

Today I was reminded of a monumentally ridiculous story from back when Jasmine and I were pregnant with Addison and Max. If you remember, Jasmine and I were about 6 weeks apart in our pregnancies, which by the way, if you ever decide it would be fun to be pregnant at the same time as your best friend, don’t be the friend who is second in line to deliver. Because when your friend makes it through all the crappy parts, you will still be in them, and she will be all “WHHEEEE! I wake up in the morning again without the relentless desire to vomit!” and you will be all, “Shut up will you?! *vomit*” and then later she will be all “WHEEE!!! Look at my baby! She is all born and here and I am no longer an incubator!” and you will be all “Oh she IS cute! And born! And I can’t walk for my giant belly is in my way for another 6 weeks. *Incubate*”

Anyway, so this one time when Jasmine and I were pregnant we decided we needed Chinese food for lunch. Jasmine was somewhere around 23 weeks, making me somewhere around 17 weeks. We were at Jasmine’s house, lazing away a winter afternoon. We ordered Chinese food, chicken fried rice and crab rangoon and probably some Dr Pepper. We stuffed our faces with the food and watched Memoirs of a Geisha. Then at some point I went home.

Several hours later, at my house, it was dinner time. We were all sitting at the table, and out of nowhere I was hit with some seriously intense stomach cramping and nausea. I bolted to the bathroom and just stayed there a while, nothing happening, just waiting out the inevitable puke or poop and while I was there waiting, my phone rang. It was Jasmine. She was in the bathroom having just puked up an entire days’ worth of food. She had cramps and nausea and puke and poop.

So I went to her house to offer support and poop solidarity and when I got there and asked about her symptoms we realized that sadly, we had gotton food poisoning. Two pregnant girls, pooping and puking and cramping and moaning around in misery.

I tell you what, there is nothing quite like sharing pregnancy with your best friend. It is awesome and amazing and will likely bring you closer together. But if I could offer one more bit of advice, stay away from Chinese food because your friendship probably does not need to withstand an evening of pregnant food poisoning. Your friendship will be fine without that experience.

Morning Death Threats

Since my last post was about my fear of Godzilla exiting through my vagina I thought I would be paradoxical and eat S’mores for breakfast while writing this post. Gestational diabetes my ass!! 😉 It is okay ladies and gents, I had a glass of milk TOTALLY made sure I got some protein in there.

I woke up this morning in a “blah” kind of mood. Garrett and I have been doing marriage therapy and being good parents and human beings, dealing with our issues, and today is another appointment. Which explains the blah mood, I don’t like paying someone to tell me I can sometimes suck. I would rather pay them to tell me that Garrett sucks and it is all his fault, but alas… Sadie is already my friend and she adores Garrett… So I am extra blah whilest meandering through the house. I made it to the kitchen to discover Isaiah, my soon to be four year old, had already tried to find the marshmallows (good thing I hid them before I went to bed!). The flies were out and in full effect (annoying product of living near a horse pasture). Isaiah was laying on the couch waiting for me and began his morning with this announcement:

“Mommy! I need to see Norah today. She is my best friend girl. I haven’t seen her forever and you are being mean keeping me from her. I want to play with Norah. I will move away to the mountains.”

Me: “Isaiah it is 7 in the morning. I don’t do well with threats ask the dead bodies under our house.”

Isaiah: “You are crazy. I am not playing… take me to my Nori, my Sadie, my Russy. I like Joe too.”

Me: “Okay Isaiah. They have to wake up first, you know Sadie has the beautiful advantage of sleeping in because HER kids don’t wake up at the crack of dawn!”

Isaiah: “NOW!”

Me: “NOT NOW!”

Isaiah: “RiiiiiiiGHT NooooooW!”

Me: “Isaiah if you keep screaming at me we are gonna have a come to Jesus moment involving a lot less compassion…

Isaiah: “what?”

Me: “I don’t know. Just leave me alone, I will text Sadie!”

I don’t think Sadie or I ever imagined the sort of relationships our children would build. Norah is three and Isaiah is almost four and you’d think they have spent 40 years together by the way they freak out if any sort of period of time passes without contact. Norah has been know to request “her Isaiah” on occasion… they are strange little creatures.

I wish, sometimes, my life was documented by a well groomed camera man who also liked to cook meals for me, Chef Curtis Stone will do. Because if I had a well groomed camera man who was filming my life on this particular morning. Ya’ll would watch this video replayed of my conversation with Isaiah and would be all, “dude… your kid has that De Niro death threat thing going on…” and I would be all, “I KNOW! Don’t get me started on what he does if you interrupt him while he is talking to someone else.” This little man throws his hand up in your face and says with great disgust, ” I was not talking to YOU, I was talking to ________fill in the blank.” He even bobs his head back and forth like a disgruntled woman from The Jerry Springer Show. And for one tiny second you feel emasculated by a three year old who loves to paint his toe nails and sing Lady GaGa… Life with Isaiah is never dull!