I am done. Roasted marshmallow, crispy pig on spit, turkey timer popped D-O-N-E. This year. This god-damned year. By far the toughest personally, professionally all the mother-fucking way around. I'd say emotionally, but I am numb. Legit. I feel nothing. Case in point, my dog died. My first baby. I was sad. But not as sad as I should have been. Pretty sure I'm going to have a nervous break down come April when I somehow find my way out of this dark hole and realize he's gone. That is if I'm not having open heart surgery and recovering, blissfully unaware on a 30-day supply of Vicodin. Almost makes that possibility appealing. And yet I still give fucks. WHY, WHY OH WHY (insert illustration a la Mo Willems and the Pigeon series...parents, you feel me)? I want to kill everyone. Except the people I like. And that list has grown significantly shorter in 2018. Maybe it's me. The older I get, the less and less I like people. Clarification - ignorant, soul-sucking u...

Do you remember when I said parenting with a full time job was like walking up Everest with one leg, in a bikini, while stopping to smoke a pack of Marlboro's every 10ft? What I didn't tell you is that it actually feels like that. Because my name is Courtney Saunders and I'm a walking heart attack. Literally. Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy to be specific. Let's back up. I was born with a congenital heart defect  and then found to have an aortic bicuspid valve during my first pregnancy. Lately, and by lately I mean it started 9 months ago (because I am really good at taking care of myself) I've been having chest pain and difficulty walking up steps or to my car from airplanes. It's stress. It's the alcohol. I'm exhausted. That's what we tell ourselves. Because of these symptoms, a few weeks ago I finally went to the doctor and had a stress test and echo of my heart and I failed both with flying colors. Ok, no biggie. Logic says stenosis (narro...

Just when I think things are coming under control a bit God laughs in my face. Hysterically, for ten days. Apparently God finds pneumonia funny. I, do not. I am an absolutely disgusting human being. It is rare (as in never) that I actually take a sick day. And I took my second one this year last week. My body hurt so bad from coughing I was confident I was going to end up breaking a rib. Fortunately God thought that would be too much. But I couldn't walk up the stairs. I couldn't sleep. I saw the doctor twice in three days and it wasn't until they gave me the option of chilling out at home with some potent cough syrup or chilling out in the hospital with bad TV that I actually listened, went to bed and sat on my ass for four days. With a litany of medication. Nebulizers, inhalers, cough pills, augmentin, steroids, hydrocodone, codeine, advil...I didn't even know it was possible to take all of this at one time. The albuterol and steroids jack me up and make me cert...

Once upon a time I wrote this post:  A few weeks ago, I came home from a business trip and walked in my front door only to be overcome with an urgent need to vomit. Our house smelled like dead fish, or, the scallops Scott had made for dinner. My food aversions have passed, but I'm still not the biggest fan of seafood, especially as a signature scent. I'm incredibly sensitive about smells in my home, and on top of that my olfactory system is frighteningly keen. Even when I'm not pregnant. So I paraded around with air freshener, choking the shit out of my husband, dog, plants and ultimately myself. But at least it was with clean linen. Here we are,  several  weeks later, and I swear I can still smell it. It certainly cannot still be the scallops. I look for it constantly...is it the garbage, the sink, Scott's shoes? Dead animals in the walls? I'm currently convinced that there are thousands of cockroaches decomposing in our walls from our regular exterminatio...

Milestones. Something that used to pertain primarily to project plans. Now, something that pertains to the development of my children. Some are physical, some are behavioral, and all of them serve to set expectations for something that is never the same for any child. I haven't forced my children into any of their milestones. Despite being (unnecessarily) worried at times, I've let it all occur naturally - sometimes with encouragement, other times not at all. Except with bottles, because I had to wash them. We were done with that shit at 24 months and 1 day. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that my 4-year-old still has a pacifier. My pediatrician who I adore (I might wear lipstick to doctor's appointments) told me "no kid goes to Kindergarten with a pacifier in their mouth".  He said the same about potty training, so I let it go and low and behold the kid did it on his own at 3 1/2 and we never looked back. This guy might know what he's talking about...

I've spent a week practicing work-life. That is, work and life intertwined with no clear lines of delineation. It all just runs, and if you're lucky, works together. I spent Tuesday morning at the park with my kids, and the afternoon on conference calls. Yesterday I did (much needed) lady maintenance in the afternoon and spent the evening writing a proposal and devising staffing plans. And today, I worked first thing, took a trip to the grocery store, worked some more, and now I'm going to take a nap. As soon as I stop writing. And, surprise, it's been an awesome week. I gave myself the ok to decline meetings to which I wasn't essential, and I felt no guilt about taking some time for me when I could have been spending it with my kids. I was super productive at work AND home, and I'm a much happier non-conflicted human being for it. Dare I say I felt...balanced? I know not every week can be like this - I only worked from home, I had no travel, and the kids ...

Adulting is hard. Adulting with children is like climbing up Mt. Everest with one arm, in a bikini, and smoking a pack of Camels every 500 ft. I said this a year ago today. Thanks, Facebook. Appreciate the reminder of how exhausted I am.  And adulting with children AND a full-time job with mega responsibility is...I don't even have the energy to come up with a witty analogy.  Yea, this shit is way hard. And  I am definitely having a mid-life crisis and letting my idealistic self kick the shit out of me and my every-day life decisions. How can you live with yourself being away from your children on business trips? Why do you have such a potty mouth, and how can you question why your 4-year old talks like a trucker? Must you get so snippy with your husband when he is hands-down the greatest husband you've ever had the privilege of being married to (and the only, but you get my point). Why must you pick up the toys (unclog the toilet, answer that last email, cry i...

Hello world. It's been awhile. Too long in fact. After several failed adventures of trying to tell my pregnancy stories and attempting to jump on the mommy blog bandwagon, I decided to throw in the towel. Because the world does not need another Top 10 list to confirm they have a toddler (trust me, you know) nor another open letter to stay at home moms from working moms. And no one is ever going to be Glennon. For reals. Bottom line with kids? Sometimes it's awesome. And sometimes it sucks. There you go. Decidedly NOT a Fantabulous Mommy.  But I missed it. Writing. So I'm back. As me - the one born without a Y.  Albeit a slightly different me. Kids will do that to a woman. Jury is out on whether or not it's for the better. My husband would tell you not. He thinks I'm schizophrenic. I wish I was kidding.  And I might be. For two years I've had a million different things fighting for space in my head. There's Mom Courtney, and Wife Courtney, and ...

I'm still learning about my wedding day. If we haven't spent time together since the big event, I expect to hear all the details as you recall them to get a sense of what it was like. My wedding experience is a collection of stories from the people I love most married (hehe) with my own fuzzy recollections. It's these personal stories that I love, even the scandalous ones. Especially the scandalous ones. I've been anxiously awaiting the photos to further prove it happened, and today I got a preview . I look really happy. And really skinny. The upside of surgery two weeks before your wedding. I believe I achieved the classy modern princess look I was striving for, complete with fleeting moments of sweetness not typically associated with my nature. My photographer was a genius. I'm anxiously awaiting the rest of the pictures, and hoping I looked just as fabulous come reception time. Modesty is a quality I admire, but modesty be damned -- I hard-earned the right ...

I've taken my fair share of risks in life. As a planner (understatement), I try to be as calculated as possible but there have been a few times -- life changing times -- I didn't see it coming...and did it anyway. The first was 1994. I was a senior in high school, and I wasn't sure what was going to happen that fall. I'd been wait-listed at one college, denied from another, and since I spent the year proving I could shoot Busch pounders, there weren't many other prospects. I got an acceptance letter from a school in North Carolina the third week of June. I do not even remember applying. So I went. Sight unseen, packed up my bags and drove 500 miles and eight hours South. Culture shocked, utterly displaced, and knowing no one, I started my college career at Elon. Yes, that Elon. The beautiful, top-ranked, well-funded private University I could not get into if I were a high school senior today. You could say that worked out. Fast forward eight years. I'm liv...

Mrs. Saunders here. Back from my wedding and honeymoon a changed woman, and I'm not talking about my name or newly lost virginity. A brief recap... It's been one clusterf*ck of a month. I haven't driven a car, worked out, gone to work, or killed a bottle of wine in 30 days. I did however manage to get married and take a Hawaiian vacation with my husband. Yes, my hussssband. Miracles somehow never cease. I cruised through my wedding stone cold sober and exhausted, trying my best to smile and knowing this is only going to happen once in my lifetime. Or it's supposed to. I sure hope I looked the part. As a little girl dreaming of my wedding, it was never about the dress or even the man. I was more focused on the fact that this would be the one and only time all the people I loved would be forced to watch me dance for four hours. All those years of dance class and numerous hours viewing Dance Fever, Solid Gold, In Living Color, and Soul Train culminating in my gol...

There is only so much bad TV a girl can watch. While I have appreciated becoming intimately familiar with Say Yes to the Dress, The Millionaire Matchmaker, Stacey and Clinton, all the guest chefs on Chopped and at least 15 different movies, I'm becoming bored and itchy for more action. Sadly, it took me a week to get here, but in my defense I have been sleeping 15-16 hours a day. In keeping with the forcefully re-iterated advice of my doctor from my post-op appointment, I'm avoiding physical activity and stress. Which means no cleaning or work, the things that normally fill 90% of my time. With the wedding just five days away, I turned to arts and crafts. It's my mental speed right now, and it requires me only to sit up. Despite feeling like the special needs child given protective scissors and an edible glue stick, I've made some pretty nifty items. There's the programs for the ceremony, the wine cork place cards, the old wine bottles dressed up and turned ta...

Today I cried over my pumpkin pancakes. I managed to walk (slowly) up the street and have breakfast in a public place with my very soon-to-be-husband. They were exceptionally yummy, but something tells me they weren't the root cause of my tears. Those pancakes were warm and comfortable, safe. In comparison, while I am frequently warm these days, I do not feel comfortable in my skin. One week ago today I was awaiting the results of a CAT scan that I didn't realize would change me forever. I cried, and continue to, over the loss of myself. I realize it sounds dramatic. I have questioned frequently this past week as to whether or not what happened to me was really all that bad. Whether or not I have license to feel the way I do so strongly. I mean, I don't have cancer, a tumor, or other terminal illness. I'm apparently quite healthy and just in need of a little healing. And I'm still here, right? Where I've landed is that it wasn't the end of the world,...

I'm not me. I don't know where she went. And I'm terrified. I've been very good about doing all the things I should and shouldn't. There's the first problem. I'm not checking email for work, I'm letting things go around the house, and just laying on the couch (bed, or chair depending on time of day). Because I have no choice. Yesterday, because I wasn't feeling too bad in the morning I decided to don my Wonder Woman cape and claim my title. I ended up in my Wonder Woman underoos, a pathetic imposter. I attempted to shower. At the end of this event, I was sweating, dizzy, and in crazy pain. I then slept for six hours. You think this would stop me. Nope. I fielded three calls from vendors with simple questions about the wedding and basically had a breakdown crying and blubbering "I can't handle it". Did I stop there? Nope. Checked the work email. Same experience. Alarmingly overwhelmed by something that in the grand scheme of my job w...

I'm feeling really sorry for myself. I'm doped up on pain killers, watching my stomach turn nine shades of purple and fighting on and off bouts of nausea and headaches. Not how I expected to spend my weekend, or Monday for that matter I suppose. Especially not two weeks before my wedding. And I stink. But it could be worse. I almost died Friday. During this interval of lucidity I'll attempt to tell you why. I warn you, this isn't pretty because it wasn't. And some may ask why I choose to write about it. Well, for one, I certainly don't want to talk about it, and two writing always makes me feel better. Like I can put it past me once it's on paper. I didn't feel well. I left the office around noon, and worked from home. I did a little yoga around six and felt better, so we went to dinner. Around 11pm I felt a demon invade my lower abdomen and try to pull every organ out through my belly button. I fell asleep, or maybe passed out, due to the severity o...

Ah blogs...perpetual storybooks living on the web telling of who you were and what you did at that point in your life. I recently revisited Thirty One Pursuits. Many of you were with me on this journey, a journey that I defined through a list of "Thirty One Things to Do Before 32". It's how I started blogging. I wrote it during one of the most difficult years of my life, something not many readers knew at the time. I hated my job, despised myself, my relationship was ending, and nothing was as I expected it would be at the age of 31. Here I am three years later, and my what a difference 1/3 of a decade can make. Or not. Several things on my original list are still incredibly relevant, and others not so much. So I decided to revisit it, and update my progress. Three years later. 1) Keep going to the gym: THEN: There is no need. I have bouts of depression, work stress, man trouble and a red wine diet to keep me looking fabulous. NOW: I can assure you three years ma...

I love Fall. Even when I'm not getting married. And while we won't officially welcome the season until later this month, Labor Day weekend usually marks the end of summer as the days get (just a little bit) cooler. So I found it very apropos that the temperature dropped 30 degrees in the past three days, and that I spent the latter half of my Labor Day weekend holed up in our comfy house doing house stuff. Which included making chili, and as it turns out the best damn chili I've ever made. My wifey skills are mad. As I sit here enjoying it for a second time, taking a break from the millions of monotonous tasks this day presents me with, I figured why not share it? So here goes, please enjoy responsibly. What You'll Need:  1/2 lb lean ground beef 1/2 lb ground mild italian sausage 1 tablespoon olive oil  1 medium white onion 4 cloves garlic 1 jalapeno 1 can each of black beans, pinto beans (drained and rinsed) and red kidney beans (drained and rinsed) 2 c...

It's no secret, I am not a fan of my required work travel. As the Regional Vice President for Atlanta, one might have thought more local meetings on the ground with clients. Not so much. I spend more time in Texas, North Carolina, Arkansas and Oklahoma than someone who dislikes barbecue, doesn't trust cowboys and is terrified of tornadoes ever should. But I've been running this schedule since 2007 with only a brief reprieve and admittedly when I'm grounded for too long, I get bored. Unfortunately, grounded hasn't happened in some time so boredom is not in my vocabulary. I long to be in our new home with my very near future hubby and small black furry child. I miss the hell out of them. Over the years I have learned not to get my feathers ruffled when flights are cancelled. I've stopped expending energy wishing for upgrades. And I write letters to Delta for entertainment purposes only. I actually heart Delta and will do my best to always remain loyal to their...

With our nuptials just a few short weeks away, good friends of ours threw a party to celebrate our long-awaited union. All the usual suspects, lots of food and booze and the pre-requisite wedding games. In this case, a loose version of the newlywed game due to the intoxication level of our guests at the point which the game was introduced. Our friends had to answer two questions...two about me, and two about Scott in the spirit of how we would answer these questions about each other. I'm sober and still confused, but everyone got it enough to make it entertaining. Once Scott got the concept of reading the answers aloud -- with one eye shut to avoid seeing double -- the entertainment value was huge, with our friends knowing us quite well. Of course, it has been seven years. Not only did we learn that our friends know us well, but I personally learned that everyone, with not a single exception, thinks I'm an OCD type-A personality fixated on cleaning and organization. Every...

Our newest niece arrived today with ten toes, ten fingers, a button nose, and the same birthday as her Daddy. She's so beautiful, I cried when I held her. She rocks, and despite having seen several little ones I love come into the world at this point, this miracle never gets old. But this isn't about the little bundle of love, this about the process that got us here. Like clockwork. We got into town last night and by 4:30 today we had a baby. My sister is an expert baby deliverer -- probably 10 pushes COMBINED with her first and second pregnancy. This one came so fast the nurse delivered her. And when I got there, I swear my sister could have hopped out of bed and gone for a margarita. Seriously. And did I mention that were it not for her belly she wouldn't have even looked with child? I pray this is genetic. While my sister was busy perfecting pregnancy, I kept the 19-month old Big Sister princess today, and got a real taste of parenthood with a full time job and two...