by Joey | Sep 9, 2021 | Real Life
I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’ve worried since the moment I found out you existed. I worried if you would stick around. I worried about being a terrible mother. I worried if you would be okay. I worried if I was feeding you enough, if I picked the safest stuff for you, if you would grow enough.
I’ve been told that’s what Mamas do: they worry. Which is good because as you can see, I have that down pat.
You’re going to be here soon. I don’t know if it’ll be days, weeks or a month before we meet you. But for the record, you may document this moment because this is the one and only time I will tolerate you being late, but you have special permission to be late.
Why? Because I’m worried.
The world has been a weird place for the last year and a half. We’re in the middle of something called a pandemic. It’s…strange, to say the least. It started back in March of 2020 and people truly panicked, buying up all the paper towels and toilet paper the world had to offer. I’m serious. There was a good long while where finding a roll of toilet paper was like winning the lottery. I think back to that season of the pandemic, and I actually kind of miss it. We were all in it together: learning about this novel virus: The Coronavirus: Covid-19.
We didn’t know much about it at all. We wiped down groceries before bringing them into the house with antibacterial cleansing wipes. The world shut down and we were all ordered to stay home for at least two weeks to flatten the curve. And we did. Everyone did what they could to keep each other safe because we were all scared. Worried.
Little by little, the world started to open back up, but it didn’t look the same. We wear masks now. We’re told to social distance and wash our hands. A vaccine became available earlier this year, and your daddy and I got it as soon as we could. You were just a little peanut then, and let me tell you, we got very, very sick after the second shot, you and me. We were knocked down for a full 24 hours, but it was worth it to keep you safe because I worry.
Yesterday, you and I sat in a drive thru line for three hours. Don’t worry, I brought snacks — right now you really like plums and Colby jack cheese with Italian herb crackers, so that’s what we had. I drove under a tent and a woman in PPE stuck a swab so far up my nose it made my eyes water. She asked if I had any underlying conditions that would make me more susceptible to the virus, and I told her about you. Then she asked why I was there, and I had to tell her.
Exposure.
We’re 19 months into this pandemic, but it finally happened. The virus infiltrated our home. Your daddy hasn’t felt very well for a couple of days. Boom: positive. He’s been staying in our guest room, the one across the hall from your room. And you might find this a little funny, but I have to leave food outside his door. “Food drop,” I shout and scurry away. I hear the door open and swoosh. We do what we have to, right?
If this were a few months ago, it would just plain stink. Unideal, sure. But ultimately probably okay. But like I said, you will be here soon. I don’t know if it’ll be days, weeks or a month before we get to meet you: but please take your dear sweet time, little one.
I want your daddy there with us. And right now, there are pretty serious rules about who can and cannot be in a delivery room, and I can tell you this much: a person who has tested positive for Covid-19 is not welcome.
The nice lady in the PPE told me yesterday that I was negative, so that’s good. You and I are still safe; healthy. But there is still the worry that we could get sick, too.
Worry.
Thankfully, little one, your daddy and I believe in God. And while it might be hard to believe, we can actually find some blessings in this whole mess. So for right now, we’re choosing to believe this is precisely the protection we needed. And in the meantime, we continue to pray that you stay nice and cozy until October.
Please, little one. Because I worry.
by Joey | Aug 25, 2021 | Real Life
I did it again. I dropped off the face of the planet just like I promised I wouldn’t. OG blog friends — do any of you just sort of feel…old in the online space these days? I ditched socials, at least in the consistent consuming/posting kind of way back in May of 2020 and haven’t really looked back. But I miss connecting and sharing. But finding a place on the big platforms that feels comfortable has been a struggle. And then it sort of just dawned on me in an embarrassing way. Why don’t I just return to my own space? My very own place. This will always be my safe space, the place where I make the rules.
So in that spirit, I thought I’d share a few things that have been floating around in my universe lately.
I’m in my third trimester. I’ve had a relatively uneventful pregnancy with this little nugget, and I’m tremendously grateful for that. But something came to light at my most recent routine check-up that isn’t necessarily a big deal, but it’s got me feeling all kinds of…mom guilt? As much as people talk, it’s alarming how little people actually share about the real truths of pregnancy.
Long story short, I haven’t gained enough weight and baby is measuring behind. I’ve been assured that independently, my doctor is not concerned one bit about either one of these…we’ll call them “issues” for lack of a better term. But paired together, it’s worth looking into a little more. All that to say, I have had my first true introduction to what it feels like to feel a bit like a mom failure. I know it’s not the case, but I feel like I’ve failed my kid in some way because the sickness and aversions and dramatic lack of appetite in general have all just been so tough to push through. Sigh. Parenthood.
Work is insane. I don’t even know how to properly describe the insanity, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Summer/beginning of fall in Admissions is pure delightful chaos. I thrive in this and typically enjoy the exhaustion that comes with it. But navigating the craziness while 8 months pregnant in 100 degree weather? Not exactly ideal but managing none-the-less. I have, however, already put in my reservation for Camp Grandma for this time next year. I just can’t even wrap my head around trying to keep my head above water with a work and keeping a 9 month old alive while the husband has disappeared into a football camp blackhole for 10 days.
I’m not writing. Anything. But I want to be. And I find my mind drifting to the story I abandoned long ago often. You’ve heard me say time and time again that book two is thisclose. And it was. But now it isn’t. There’s so much I’d want to change. And I’m eager to change it, to dive in and pull it all apart. But I just haven’t. If there’s one thing I’ve come to understand about myself and my writing process it’s that I cannot force it. It will come when it will come. And apparently right now is just not that time.
Our kitchen is pretty much done. I still just can’t believe the transformation or the fact that my wizard husband did it all on his own (for the most part). I feel like I should do a whole stand alone post about the process, how much it cost, and maybe even a few things we learned along the way. Would there be any interest in that?
I barely recognize our lives. I’m sure this has happened to at least a handful of you, but our lives changed so dramatically so quickly that I often find myself sort just of in awe of everything. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for all we’ve experienced up until this point. Every opportunity. Every mistake. Every twisted path that seemed to dead end into nothingness. But when I try to piece together exactly how we ended up here, I simply cannot. And that’s how I know God is real. Because friends? I’ve prayed for this exact life more times that I can even say. Sometimes consciously. Usually unconsciously. But always deep down in my soul, I’ve always wanted exactly this. A quaint little home we could make our own. A stable job where I could show up, be myself and feel like what I do actually matters. A family of our own. It’s wild to me that suddenly, here we are. Weeks (yes…WEEKS!) away from meeting our little human and shifting gears into a whole new season of life. And while we’re definitely prepared, I don’t feel quite ready. But again, I guess that’s where God comes in, huh?
Anyway, that’s the update on us for the moment. Fill me in on you, would ya?
by Joey | Apr 30, 2021 | Real Life
Well hello! Yes, I’m going to just drop right on in here like I haven’t been totally MIA since December. It’s 8:35 PM, and I returned from a walk just a bit ago in an attempt to escape the house. And now I’m hiding in the office that’s soon to be a nursery because the husband is cutting and fitting our countertops and well, that makes me nervous.
I feel like I just might have dropped some big bombs on you if you don’t happen to follow my Instagram. Which, if you don’t, I can’t blame you. I stopped posting back in May of 2020. And if I’m honest, I probably won’t ever be there consistently again. Social media just isn’t my thing. But yes! We’re having a baby. A BABY! Can you even believe it? Because most days I can’t.
I’m 17 weeks, and it’s been the wildest experience so far. The first trimester was really brutal. I spent pretty much the entire 3 months feeling like I was battling the worst hangover I’ve ever had. But as I’ve slowly crept into the 2nd trimester, things have really, really improved thank goodness.
I guess the other bomb I dropped, which wasn’t as big, is we’re in the middle of our kitchen renovation! I use the word “we” very loosely. J has singlehandedly done it all. Besides weighing in on the design and materials selection, my only contribution has been tearing up our old linoleum floors. And that was really only because J was struck down with a terrible migraine and was bummed he missed an entire day of progress. He took one week of vacation to get this job done. And I’ve kind of felt like we’re secretly on some crazy DIY reality show where there’s some wild deadline to literally flip an entire room. But he’s doing it! If you’re ever curious about our home reno stuff, I do have a little insta for that. I only pop in when we’re actively doing projects, so don’t expect much in the way of consistency. But I do keep everything in highlights if you fancy that kind of thing. Find it @stayingwithjo.
Work has been crazy but good. I know, it still shocks me that an out-of-the-house office job could suit me so well. I’ve done this weird, creative thing for so long that I just didn’t think I could stomach a structured, traditional job. But I think the fact that while there is some pretty standard structure, every day is basically an adventure. That’s working in a college for you, though. No two days are really ever the same. And I work with a great team of people who have truly become our family.
J and I have been doing a lot of reflecting lately. Our lives just look so incredibly different these days than even this time last year. And I tweeted out last week that if you would have told me when I was packing up our CLT house that this is what our lives would look like in just two years, I would have begged you to promise that you were telling the truth.
We’re happy. We feel settled. Despite the fact that we are literally in the middle of home renovations and cooking a human being we feel settled. I’m just so grateful for how things have worked out. The time we spent at Mom’s was really hard for me; so many giant question marks. I just couldn’t see how things would turn out. I begged and pleaded for God to reveal the rest of the story to me, to speed things up. The desperation I felt for any sense of stability is ineffable. I craved it in a way you seek comfort in turmoil. It was elusive. And I didn’t have the road map or even half a plan forward. Because every path forward we’d tried before lead us into painful dead ends. And I was out of ideas. I had no choice but surrender and Let God.
I’ve craved telling that whole story. All the beautiful, painful details of how God shattered everything so we could rebuild into something we never saw coming. But I think the only way to do that is a book. So I guess I have some work to do.
Anyway, I really thought all the sawing would be done by time I finished writing, but it is most certainly not. (Side note, should it smell like something is on fire? I’m almost afraid to know that answer.)
I’ll try not to disappear for another 4 months, but eh. I can’t make any promises. Either way, thanks for being here! Now, tell me how are you!?
by Joey | Dec 1, 2020 | life stuff, Real Life
I originally wrote this post at the end of July 2020. It all felt just too fresh and raw and real to share at the time. There were still so many unknowns surrounding our next steps. And if I’ve learned anything from Brené Brown, it’s that I don’t share anything until my healing is no longer dependent on the response to it.
But as I combed my drafts tonight, it feels right to share this post now. I have felt more whole in the months since I wrote this than I have in years. I know with full certainty that we were put exactly where we were needed exactly when we were needed. And I believe the same to be true now, in this new season of our lives.
So I say to you, if you’ve ever waded through a season of painful unknowns, or maybe you’re there right now, this post is for you.
I was at my desk hustling to finish work in time to make it to my normal yoga class when my husband appeared in the doorway. “So, uhm. I just lost my job.”
I stared blankly at him, my blood running cold. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words from my husband’s mouth. We just couldn’t seem to shake this unfair dark cloud. And once again, just like the last time, I was thrusted into out-of-character calmness. “Okay,” I said. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Within just a few days, J had a new job and we received our lease renewal information. Charlotte was a lot of things: beautiful, fun and most importantly ridiculously expensive. A booming city meant landlords could jack up prices for seemingly no reason. “I don’t want to stay here,” I told my husband. “I just feel like it’s time for us to move on.”
We decided not to renew, hopeful we’d figure out our next steps in due time. A few days later, we learned that J’s new job had serious need in their Raleigh office. “I think you should go,” our good friend who was now one of Jonathan’s coworkers told us. “It would likely be temporary, but it would give you the chance to get some important, hands on training that we just can’t offer here in the Charlotte office.”
Temporary. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s do it.” I couldn’t put my finger on why at the time, but I just felt something pulling us home. Raleigh is our hometown. It’s where we both grew up. It’s where both of our mothers live and a handful of our siblings. “We can stay at Mom’s until we know where we need to land more permanently.”
So, with plans in place, we packed up our home and said farewell to the city we called home for 6 of our 9 married years. But this time, unlike the last, it felt right. It felt like it was time. J single-handedly unloaded all our earthly possessions into my mom’s basement, and we set up a mini “apartment” on her second floor, complete with our own bed.
But it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep in. The thing is, we often fall victim to the stories we tell ourselves about a situation. And let me just tell you, your imagination can run wild with a story that involves you moving into your mother’s house at the ripe old age of 32. And for some reason, failure and embarrassment were the leading characters in that story even though I knew it not to be true. To put it lightly, I was struggling.
I’m the kind of person who takes pride in her space and who prefers, above all else, to be in the comfort of her own home. And while abundantly grateful for the soft place to land temporarily, I was eager and desperate to accelerate the timeline. And then something bizarre and unexpected happened. Football suddenly re-entered our lives after 4 long mostly football-less years. Every plan we had in place upheaved and my urgent desire to get our own place was squashed. There would be no moving until the end of the season, when we knew more about what comes next.
It’s hard to admit this, but I felt trapped. I was desperate to find a place to call our own, and while we technically could, despite everything, I knew it simply didn’t make sense. And without my permission, I sunk into a depressed state. I know there’s a lot to be said for perspective and gratitude, but my selfish tendencies were being challenged and I was not okay. “I know I’m supposed to be learning something here,” I told a friend. “And who knows, maybe God needs us here for some reason.”
And then, with one single phone call and four simple words, everything changed.
My mom was sick. There would be doctor’s appointments and treatment plans and surgery and and and. Now, on the other side of all of that, nearly a year removed, I’m happy to report that she’s just fine–like nothing ever even happened–but it was a lot at the time. And it was in that moment, in the aftermath of that startling news, that J and I knew deep down in our bones that God broke our hearts to put us here. We were needed, undoubtedly.
But you see, it’s hard to know and understand that in the midst of heartbreak is purpose. Sometimes we get let in on that secret, the great purpose revealed. Other times the only purpose is to protect us from something we’ll never see.
In the year plus that we’ve been here, purpose or not, we’ve been offered little gifts. Tiny little slivers of hope and happiness that we otherwise wouldn’t have had. And one of those things has been football and the community of the school that comes with it. Knowing my husband is able to finally get back to what he loves and what he’s so good at is a gift all in itself. Had we not been at Mom’s, the opportunity would have been something we probably would have passed on. But it was precisely this opportunity that kept us at Mom’s beyond the summer. Had football not suddenly re-entered our lives like a beautifully wrapped, long awaited gift, we would have already moved out when we got the call.
I tell you this story because I know we’re all in the midst of it all these days. I won’t lie and say we’re out of it. There are still so many unknowns that factor into our ability to decide when we’ll leave Mom’s. But I will say that despite it all, there can be beauty in the brokenness. And though your heart may be breaking right now, please hold fast to hope.
If you’ve spent any length of time in this space, you’ll know that my verse of life is Romans 12:12: Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.
And as J and I navigate into the next phase of what our lives will look like, I’ve been repeating that verse like a mantra, a small, quiet comfort in the mess of an anxious mind.
But if I know one thing for certain: I can trust the process. God puts us exactly where we’re needed.
by Joey | Oct 6, 2020 | Real Life
We can do anything if we put our minds to it.
Take your whole life then you put a line through it.
Friends. Hi. I’ve ached to return to this space. It’s on my mind often, and I miss it terribly. But would you believe me if I told you that literally the day I posted that last blog post, where I talked all about feeling disappointed and depleted, that everything changed. Everything.
I guess I can talk about things in more specifics now. I’ve wanted to the whole time, but I wasn’t even sure myself what the story was that was unfolding. It was all so…unexpected. Life, man. God, man. All very funny if you ask me.
When I graduated college, my mom lovingly referred to me as a fish out of water. I’ve talked about that in this space before–just never really finding my place. It didn’t help that life all this time has felt so…temporary. That’s the world of football, right? You unpack, half settle in and then the rug gets yanked out from underneath you. Remember Buies Creek? Yeah, that one still hurts when I think about it too much.
But when I do think about it all, really think about it–every wrong turn, every disappointment, every single broken heart, man am I grateful now. So. Very. Grateful.
I guess I have some explaining to do.
I don’t really feel like starting at the beginning. I just don’t have it in me to rehash it all right now. Basically, our life got turned on its ear in February of 2019 and that was the catalyst for a whole lot of change. I’ve touched on it here and there in older blog posts and the podcast, but all you really need to know is that 2019 sucker punched us and then continued to kick us while we were down. Looking back at it now, I can see the blessings in the messiness. But when I tell you it was a hard year, those words just don’t feel strong enough. 2019 changed everything. It changed our lives. It changed us. It changed me.
It was full of all the worst things. And some day I’ll get into it all. But today is just not that day. Today I want to focus on the good, if that’s okay with you.
So what changed? Ha, that’s a good question.
Most of you know that my husband took a football job that kind of came in out of nowhere last summer. While the job was an absolute blessing in the way that it brought football back into our lives, it also kind of messed everything up. At least that’s what I thought then. We had plans. We wanted to settle down. We wanted to buy a house. And football doesn’t really offer that kind of stability, not at this stage in a career anyway. And while I was so very happy that my husband had the chance to get back to what he loved, I was tired.
And that job meant we’d stay at Mom’s pretty much indefinitely. We wouldn’t move out at the end of the summer like we’d planned. We wouldn’t be buying a house. Everything we sort of laid in place at the start of 2019 was basically flushed with the promise that we’d figure it out. Eventually.
God and I had a whoooooole lotta conversations last year. But one prayer I prayed more than most was for stability. And a home we could call our own. But mostly, stability please.
There’s a long, twisty story here, one I’ll share another time. But the long and short of it is there are two major updates in my life. And I’ve strangely felt like I can’t really return to this space until I address them. So, here goes.
1. I have a full-time job at the college.
While my freelancing business is still alive and well, I’ve taken a massive step away. I work with a very few clients and the rest I’ve contracted out to writers I trust. And honestly? I don’t think I’ll ever go back. Not unless something massive changes in our lives that requires the need for it. I’m happy. So, so happy. Trust, no one is more surprised than me. A full-time office job? I know, who even am I? But friends? When it’s right, it’s right.
This is my place. These are my people. This is my purpose. Everything up until this point was simply preparing me for it all. I was becoming the person I needed to be to step right into the space designed for me. I didn’t see this coming. I really, really didn’t. But I’m finally home. And oh, so happy.
You might be wondering what about the books. Joey, I thought you said you just want to write books! Well, guess what? Now, I can. Now, I can focus on all the parts of writing that I love without stressing myself silly trying to scrape enough together to make a living. And for the first time ever, I don’t feel like I’m sacrificing any piece of me. Trading one for another.
I feel whole.
2. We bought a house!
I know!! Can you even believe it? Because I really can’t. I still don’t really know how it happened except God. We bought a sweet little project house that we’re turning into a home one DIY at a time. It’s a dream realized. There’s no other way to put it. We closed mid-August and moved in (with the craziest mover experience ever) at the end of August.
So there it is, friends. The cliff notes version of our life since my last post. The craziest thing of all is I was painfully awaiting news on the full time role at the time. I’d been through the wringer with opportunities swinging in and out of my reach since February, and I was kind of losing hope. But the day I published that post, later that afternoon I got the news. The position had been approved (it was created for me). The next day, I applied for a mortgage. The day after that, I got pre-approved for said mortgage. The very next day, we put an offer in on a house that was accepted within an hour.
Life, I’ll tell ya, has been in warp speed since July 7, 2020. But my heart, friends? It’s full. So. Damn. Full.
So come away, starting today
Start a new life, together, in a different place
EASTSIDE; halsey + khalid
