What makes you tick... gets your heart pumping... brain bouncing in every direction? Is it a thing? A feeling? A creation? Someone? Passion breeds life. And why is it that once I bred life I suddenly forgot about the things that make my heart dance? I am a mom, but I am not only a mom and sometimes I need a reminder that passion is what makes me who I am. It drives this ship and keeps my brain functioning and my heart happy. Passion.. the lusting love of something. Being creative, socializing, thinking outside of the box, music, art, nature, they make my heart lustful. For too long I have forgotten to fuel my passions and now... I feel awake. Not the drowsy, I need a coffee, kind of awakening... the excited, full speed ahead, whoa my soul is alive kind of awakening. My senses are happy, my insides are calm, and for the first time in a long time, I'm content... happy. I have spent time harboring anger, resentment even. My story is no more difficult than my n...
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The stigma. The expectations. The looks. Society and the approval needed. It's too much and I just don't want to do it anymore. I wasn't sleeping, my mind couldn't slow down. I felt like I was going to black out, worried about my heart... anxiety. I have learned that mourning is a big part of life.. like grieving, not beautiful sunsets and a hot cup o joe. For me, grieving isn't a one part thing, it is ridiculously complex and slightly confusing. We have spent time grieving what we thought life was going to look like and time accepting that it is going to look differently. I had expected that my life was going to look exactly as I had always dreamt... wife, mom, social circles, world travels, big moves, promotions, aunts uncles grandparents, the whole shabang. Never in a million years did I think I would have huge bumps along the way, heavy topics to wade through, the worlds heaviest decisions to make, and then.... all the other normal stuff of wife,mom, social ...
Toby Jay Keiser On August 17,1966 the Keiser family was given one of the greatest gifts they would ever receive. Marilyn delivered a perfectly healthy baby boy, Toby Jay Keiser, who would soon to be the life of EVERY party. He entered the world screaming and he totally made sure his voice would forever be heard. His mama, my grandma, was young when she had her first child (my dad, Terry). Following that she went on to have 2 more babies before having Toby. He was the youngest of four and welcomed with open arms and a neighborhood full of kids ready to meet him. His mom was his biggest fan and his sister, Tammy, loved to treat him like her own baby, even though she begged and begged for a little girl. You see, Grandma Marilyn, was only 17 when she got pregnant with her oldest who was 18 years old when Uncle Toby was born. He was the baby of the family, Tammy's personal baby doll, and dad and Uncle Tim's little buddy that they drug to college events and the Beta house. The age d...
It's not about the number. It isn't about a bad year or a global pandemic. We were all unraveling. We needed to be stopped in our tracks and reset. Money, things, glitz and glamour. Gossip, lies, false realities. Newsflash: Social media isn't actually LIFE. When the world shut down, it was all taken away. We were all FORCED to look within... to expose those dirty little secrets and to deal. We lost jobs, money, community, the ability to move fast and unintentionally. We couldn't cover up our lives on insta anymore. Suddenly a fat dose of reality was served... what's this life? What am I making of mine? WHO AM I and what GIFT do I need to be GIVING? Light is being shed in my life and cockroaches are dispersing. For me, it's in my relationships, and clarity is in full contrast giving me no option but to SEE who is there and what kind of mutual love is being given. I see my husband and our marriage has never felt so secure. I cherish that man and everything he s...
PEP TALK! You didn’t sign up to be a homeschool mom... me neither. Nonetheless one that schooled from homes and couldn’t take them anywhere... to see anyone... to any playground, bounce house, museum, library. They can’t see their friends, or their grandparents. It’s hard. Here is the silver lining: life has been so busy. Everyone is running from one thing to the next, constantly. Sometimes you don’t even get that one on one time to truly bond with your kids b/c you’re so focused on getting to your appointment on time. Things are closed, how will you entertain them? For me, God has slapped me in the face to say.. YOU DONT NEED TO ENTERTAIN THEM!!! LOVE THEM. TEACH THEM. SNUGGLE THEM. They are MY gift to you. This has been such a sweet reminder that we are enough. I love having everyone under one roof. We’re cooking together. We’re doing chores together. We’re going on runs and hikes and i’m teaching them to run! (Like distances). We’re learning, not just schoolwork, but life...
For those of you who were interested in the addiction post, I kinda left you hangin'. He was bailed out, ended up with a blood clot to the lung, went to rehab, walked out the same day, was arrested that night and put back in jail. He was bailed out, put on probation, violated probation 2 weeks later and arrested for selling. The mugshots are remarkable... you see the cycle. The affect of drugs.. exhaustion.. malnutrition... extreme sadness...embarrassment... disappointment. This is the first time I feel so sad for him. I'm sad for my dad who continues to get his hopes up, continues to believe his words and that he is ready to get well (because that's what parents do, always). He isn't ready and he may never be ready. Can you even imagine how terrible he feels right now? The cold jail, withdrawals... terrible, terrible withdrawals, people screaming, nasty food and no communication with the outside world. The calls he does make are full of shame and the peopl...
Courage. It breaks silence. Everyone has a story. Some are happy, some are sad, some are still untold and forced to be buried. As a child, our normal is molded by our home life. We believe truths that we are given, the pictures that are painted for us. We don't know any different, this normal is what becomes our reality. Parents want their children to have a better life than they had. Lets be real... bad stuff happens. What do they tell us and when do they choose to protect us? Some people are encouraged to keep their story quiet. Maybe silenced verbally and forced to internalize it all, or maybe to just ignore it and "focus on the positive". Maybe our childhood reality still stands. If your reality is still accurate,- WHOA!!! That is love, dude. That is raw.. and real... it's truth covered in tons of unconditional love. THAT is so beautiful. Aging is so interesting. It's fun, awkward, weird, crazy......and interesting. My mom had ...
We're grindin'.. all of us... day in and day out. Wake up early, so much caffeine and the day to day begins. My day looks like this: Wake up around 6 am and stumble to the kitchen to make 3... yes THREE cups of coffee- survival yall. I make breakfast for hungry mouths, lots of juices, lots of pancakes, and lots of me saying "SIT DOWN!". I then beg them to get dressed... I ask probably 6 times before I start pulling clothes off at the table and shoving shoes on feet while heads are in tablets (judge away). Everyone bundles up, Dollie gets strapped to my chest, and we hold hands and walk to school. We all give hugs and say goodbye and then Lola runs back and gives hugs again and we say goodbye once more. On the walk home, Brooks and I discuss important topics like, "Mommy, there was a bear in the front yard. Did you know they eat coconuts?" "Coconuts.. really?" "YEP!". Once we're home, I put dolls down for a mor...
Trust. As a small child you learn to trust. Your parents are there to guide you. To teach you what's hot, or to stay behind a railing. They teach you how to keep yourself safe from the outside world. You trust them. What they teach becomes your truth. This is how your life begins, it's your foundation. This is how the next 30 years will be shaped. As you navigate through a broken world you sling trust around maybe a bit too freely. You trust a friend or a boyfriend. A teacher. A pastor. You trust a neighbor or an uncle. Then your trust is broken and everything becomes so confusing. What is real? Those who you were told you could trust have lied to you. Was it one lie? Was it a magnitude of lies? What is real and what was a lie? The world suddenly becomes a bit of a blur. Who do you befriend and choose to be in relationships with? How do you decipher what is reality and what is not? Who can you trust moving forward? Being trustworthy is a difficult and rewa...
Today feels blah. I am sad... tired... alone... depressed. It feels like I have noone to call, noone who understands and honestly I think my support system is just tired also. Supporting someone who is struggling is hard. There is so much encouraging, inviting and loving that goes into supporting a friend who's in a tough spot. It gets old... always having to reach out and check in. Always having to be the one to sprinkle some positivity, it can wear anyone out. Lately it has felt like a dark cloud is following me around. It feels like the enemy is constantly feeding me lies about myself and who I am. I feel distant from God, I am struggling to hear Him. I long for old relationships with friends and family. I miss playdates, jokes, getting a beer. I miss going shopping with my mom. I miss alone time with my husband. I miss My Morning Jacket. I want a weekend getaway. I'm worried. We have 9 days until Dollie's next surgery. It is on her clubfeet...
As I drove up the W Road, I could see the greenery, the morning light. I could see the water trickle down each waterfall, feel the gas under my foot, but there was no noise. Even my thoughts, just pictures. Pictures of the last year, seeing my baby Doll for the first time, seeing Adam's face go from fear to total loss of control... seeing him, knowing he couldn't do anything, watching him cry helplessly. Pictures of the NICU, and then of every time I've handed my Doll over to someone and her look of confusion... my feeling of absolute fury that I couldn't explain it. Pictures of every time I've laid her down on an exam bed, watched her scream, feeling the urgency to snatch her up, nurse her and run. Pictures from my memories of stealing her and just running. Where in the hell have I been this last year? As I drove up the mountain, <<< BAMMMM>>> the sound popped on LOUDLY all at once. I heard my kids screaming in the car, Kids Place Live... I...
Life is hard. All of it. People are jerks, like most of them. It’s just how it is. It makes me crazy. I feel like I have this tiny little treasure box in my heart full of emotions. I keep that sucker locked most of the time. Sometimes i’m triggered and it gets unlocked. Rude people, kindergarten starting, a sassy 5 year old, someone who’s passive aggressive... whirlwind. I go spiraling! You know why? Because emotions are BIG and HARD and they’re ALLLLLL mine. I have every right to want to punch someone in the face for judging me without knowing any of the story... but then, I gotta release that crap. This is what i’m working on currently- not letting people’s actions create a reaction in me. Easy peasy, yeah? Psssh. Legit, the thing I suck at most in this world. It feels like all of my “hards” are flared. The relationships that I struggle with, they’re driving me bonkers. Dollies disability- were about to head back for ...
Today I realized that many of the posts I have written up until now were thoughts in my mind or feelings in my heart, they exited their home, went through my fingertips to a keyboard and were transferred into a word like document (this blog) never to be seen or thought of again. Like... I kind of blacked out in the making. No editing. No reading, just write and send... never to read again. It's weird when someone says something to me in regards to a past post. Half of the time I'm confused... like WHOA... HOW DOES SHE KNOW THAT ABOUT MY LIFE!!!!? Oh yeah, I write a blog. I legit have to check myself daily. RIGHT! I put my whole life out there for whoever wants to read it to do so. What is that... Crazy? Egotistical? Vulnerable? Therapeutic? All of the above? Who do I think I am? Why do I think I'm important enough to write my thoughts and opinions and post them to the internet for the world to see, ya know? Writing for me is therapy. It's that hour long session wi...
Dear Dolly, We love you. All 5 of us. LOVE you. We will be taking our first family of 5 vacay next month for our 4 year old, Lola’s, bday. Destination- DOLLYWOOD! Why? Because she loves you. Like LOOOOOOVES you. A little bit about us: We are the Harmon’s. Adam and Emily are the parents to 3 children who are way too close together 😴: Lola-4, Brooks-2, and Dollie Mae- 10 months. About a year and a half ago Lola discovered you, “Dolly Partons”, and she fell in love. Car rides became live concerts. The set list? Always a Jolene and 9-5. When she saw your pictures and your beautiful blonde hair, there was NO turning back! Brooks got on board and it was the best to hear a 1 year old singing songs when he could hardly talk. They use Adams ukulele as their guitar and they sing and strum. Then they discovered “Coat of Many colors” and Lola had a ton of questions about the meaning. She told me how rich you were, but I explained to her that ...
Momming is all I know right now. It's legit my whole life. Every smile, every struggle, every meal, every activity, all of it, #momlife. I would apologize for the repetition of mom talk, but if you're reading this you might be a mom too. Maybe not. If not, this is MOM LIFE- harder than thug life. SO MUCH HARDER than thug life. SO as a mom you're always talking to other moms... WHOA, has your child ever... today was SO hard!... I hate these hours!!!... what did you do when so and so did this?... Like on a daily you hear."We have just had a DAY!" "So and So has been a PILL today!" "It's been a STRUGGLE"... "He's been a BEAR!" That's polite. Kids can be JERKS. Not pills... not bears... JERKS... straight up butt heads. Today I was a terrible mom. I yelled. I cussed. I said SHUT UP! I used words like stupid, made all the threats. . . it was ROUGH! Here is the TRUTH: nobody was a pill and we didn't have a "...
I have been lost. In adulthood. In wife life. In motherhood. Where did I go? Me... Emily. The photo junkie, jewelry artist, music loving, traveling fool. What happened to date nights, or even late nights? Slow dancing to Billie Holiday with a bottle of red while fish tacos cook in the kitchen. I day dream of Costa Rica and shopping sprees, sleeping in with my handsome man next to me and having coffee in bed. Let's talk self care. It used to mean pedicures and massages, a weekend getaway or a girls night. It's no secret that life is hard and somewhere in the midst I've lost myself. I have forgotten who i am aside from being a wife, a mom, a friend, a daughter. I don't get my hair done or my nails. I would die for a massage or just a fancy bath where I could soak as long as I want. I could use a few strokes of mascara and could totally benefit from some whitening strips. I didn't realize I had abandoned not just these superficial things but also TRULY carin...
Praying for a miracle. It’s ahmazzzing how many times Dollie has met someone who says “I’ve been praying for you! It’s so nice to meet you.” Like, what?! People have prayed for her and not even known her... or us! Can you even fathom that? MEETING someone who has already been praying for you!!? Often I hear, "I'm praying for a miracle". Its got me thinking... what is that? What's the miracle? Is it that she will walk? That her Spina Bifida will be cured? So here's the thing... I wouldn't take it away. Why? Because God PERFECTLY knit her together for US. He chose HER to be our baby and US to be her family, like whhhhat? This story was written so so so so so SO long ago and we're finally living it. He knew exactly what we needed and gifted us with Dolls. Does that even make sense? I think of it kind of like my 16th birthday hoping for a car... a beater of a car, ANY car! I would LOVE a Honda Civic but will be totally cool with mom's h...
As I sit in this hospital room listening to the clicking of the IV fluids and a sweet little teeny tiny baby snore, I endulge myself with a 16oz mocha and a chocolate chip muffin and think two things: Dollie is the toughest person I have ever met and this shiz has been hard. Yesterday at 8:00 am central time Dahlia underwent a 4 hour surgery to repair her grade 4 hydronephrosis of her left kidney and to release both of her Achilles’ tendons in her tiny baby feet. At 20 weeks pregnant I went in to Dr. Brody’s office for what I thought was a typical ultrasound. It was me and Brooks and it turned out it was my 20 week anatomy scan. As Robin scanned me she noticed that the baby’s left kidney was dilated but assured me that it sometimes happens and not to freak out. She continued to scan that baby and as she got to the brain she grew more quiet than normal. At that time Dr. Brody popped in and looked at the screen and I could see with the exchange of looks that something was wron...