The Bitch Is Back

Hello Hello Hello!!

Man, Oh day have I been missing my blog. It has been one year, one month, and 4 days since I last posted. What the what!!? How does that even happen!?

Lets see, last time we talked, Wonderful Husband and I were struggling to make ends meet, I was keeping a HUGE secret from EVERYONE, and I had just started my Pure Romance business.

So what exactly has happened in the past year? Lets talk turkey.

Not actual turkey though, I’ve never made a turkey. And, I kind of hope to keep it that way because those things are huge and intimidating and you only make them on special occasions where you can’t mess up- which ultimately means it would mess up and I’d be stuck explaining why the bird was burnt, or raw, or something. But seriously though, I can’t wait to tell you all about my past year!

My big secret?


After six months of trying, wondering if we even wanted another baby, and basically only having sex in order to procreate, we did it! I found out the day Wonderful Husband left for his two weeks of annual training for the Army. Literally about 4 hours after he left the house I took a test. So then I was tasked with keeping this huge secret for two weeks until he got home. And then we both were tasked with keeping the secret until my first ultrasound at 12 weeks, where we saw a beautiful little babe in my expanding belly.

It was exciting to create a new life and know that in 9 short months we would have a new child, Little Darling would have a new sibling, and our lives would be forever changed a second time. However, it was also terrifying, because we still weren’t real sure Wonderful Husband was even going to have a job come April, let alone come September when Little Littles was going to be making his/her debut.

Time passed and several more exciting things happened!

We found out that Little Littles was a Little GIRL. Little Darling would have a sister, I would have another daughter, and Wonderful Husband was already dreaming of baby number three in hopes of a boy. I spent almost my entire pregnancy sick as a dog. I lost weight, I couldn’t sleep, I regularly barfed.

April came and went, and Wonderful Husband didn’t lose his job. In fact, it seemed like the big bosses really liked him and invited him to start making the trip to Bridgeport WV to see the headquarters down there and meet some of the other employees. Work still wasn’t very consistent, but at least it was existent, so we couldn’t complain.

I did Pure Romance all summer, with many successful parties, and was able to keep food on our table, gas in my car, and even got a few extras. I ended up giving it up when Little Littles was born. At that point there was just too much going on for me to juggle a toddler, a newborn, a business, and the newest exciting opportunity in our lives.

What was the exciting opportunity, you may ask.

Well, after a few months of making the daily 2 hour trip to and from Bridgeport to work, Wonderful Husband’s employer made him the offer to move down there! They agreed to put us up in a “man camp” (a fancy name for a trailer) right in the parking lot of the shop until we were able to sell our house in PA and find a new house in WV. Within hours of getting the offer we had made our decision, and within two weeks we had packed and moved. We put the majority of our items in MIL and FILs garage, a handful of boxes with clothes and important items came with us, a large portion of our life stayed with our old house.

It took us three months to sell our house. We had to drop the price a few times, but in the end we got enough to pay the mortgage. Then it was time to find a house in WV.

About this time, Little Littles was born! 7lbs of chub. She had beautiful blue eyes, pale skin, and never, ever freaking slept. She cried constantly. About everything. For everything. I was exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do after giving birth, and then never sleeping again, was start house hunting. But it was either that, or live in a tiny trailer where our living room, dining room, and kitchen were all smooshed into a 12×12 room for the rest of my life. And so, the hunt began.

We looked, we searched, we traveled. The fact of the matter was our $200k budget with hopes of land, privacy, and turn key availability was laughable in this area. Most houses were $300k or more, and that didn’t include any land, or it didn’t include a livable house. Everything came with compromises. We were confused, annoyed, and getting worried.

At last, after several months, we found what seemed to be our dream house. It was huge, close to Wonderful Husbands work, had no neighbors except an empty business, and came with a tidy 2 acres of land. There was a small run off pond in the back, two porches, two patios, and the basement had already been made into an in law suite with its own kitchen, bedrooms, and baths. It even had a fireplace.

For me, it was love at first sight. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was slightly out of budget, but nothing we couldn’t handle. I loved everything about it, I had everyone’s rooms planned out and was secretly designing where furniture would go in the 25×21 great room. We would definitely need a large farmhouse dining room table.

We made the offer.

We got scared and backed out.

The house was taken off the market.

I was devastated.

Here I was, living in a 400 sq ft trailer with a 2 month old who never slept, a toddler who was a ball of energy all day, a husband who was preoccupied with work, and it seemed like things were going downhill. The holidays came and went, there were no more houses to go see. We were out of possibilities.

At the end of January, we decided to have our realtor reach out to the owner of The Dream House. She did. It wasn’t available. It was rented until November.


Within a couple days though, our realtor got a call back from the owner. His renters were willing to leave and we could have the house by the end of February.

Oh Happy Days.

We wrote up the offer and submitted it.

He denied it. Apparently, the renters were now refusing to leave. They wanted to stay until June so their kids could finish the school year. We wrote up the offer and resigned ourselves to six more months in our tiny man camp.

Then the worst happened.

We got notice from Wonderful Husbands employer on February 7 that we had to be out of the man camp by the end of the month. They needed it. Since Trump had won the election, business was picking up. They had men in the field who needed places to stay. We were no longer welcome there.

After a short fling with the idea of renting an apartment or even buying a different house. We made the decision that me and the kids would move in with FIL and MIL. Wonderful Husband would move in with my dad who only lives about 40 min from WH’s work. We would spend the next six months in separate states living with each others parents.

I felt broken. After 8 months of trying to think positive, trying to tell myself it could only get better, things had continually gotten worse.

On my last day in Bridgeport, I was trying to put my stuff in the storage unit, to no avail because I am too small to open or close the unit door. I am not sure that you can get more pitiful than laying in the gravel parking lot of a storage company, in the rain, pleading with God to let you get the God Damn door shut.

I sat in my car and cried. I texted Wonderful Husband and told him he had to come after work and lock the unit because I can’t do it. I hope nobody steals our stuff in the next few hours.

I stuffed the kids, the dog, and the cat into the Honda and made the long two hour trip to MIL and FILs house where they welcomed me with open arms, as usual, and helped me get settled into what would be my home for the next five months.

We had been there for about two weeks, when Wonderful Husband called and made an announcement. The renters were done for! The house would be available March 31, and we would be closing April 3. Everything was in order and we would be back together much sooner than we had thought.

The next six weeks were a blur. I spent the day trying to stay busy, cleaning and cooking. On rare occasions the sun would come out and I could take the girls for a walk or play in the back yard. Typical winter in South West PA. Wonderful Husband was busily getting the mortgage finished, I was trying to make lists of everything we would need and spent an exorbitant amount of time online shopping for rugs and furniture.

We had a few hiccups- the renters left the place a mess, a window needed replaced, the seller was out of town. But finally, on April 4, we signed the papers and moved in.

I sit here, on my new rug, in my new house, thinking of everything I can be thankful for. Things got pretty low, and I felt pretty low. But sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better, and I can say with certainty that I have learned a valuable lesson (or two) in the past year.

Little Littles still doesn’t sleep, but ever since we started solid food and quit nursing she is at least happy and smiling during the day. Little Darling has adjusted to every situation flawlessly. She is almost potty trained, sleeps great, talks in full sentences, and even has chores she does around the house every day. Wonderful Husband is back in full swing at work, we may not see him as often as we would like, but we definitely see him more often than we ever used to. His day always starts and ends at the shop, which is 2.4 miles down the road. Some days he even swings by for lunch.

I am well on my way to feeling myself again. I was sick for 9 months, and homeless for 8. I moved three times in 6 weeks all while 7 months pregnant. I have two beautiful kids, an amazing husband, and a life most people wish for.

So, I hope you are ready to be back on this wild ride of Stepford living…

Because, the bitch is back.


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