by Jessica Bauer, Miss July 2016

When I think about this blog’s greatest hits, I go back to its roots.

I have waxed poetic through the years about my faith and I’ve written-how to manuals on starting your own backyard garden, but when it boils down to it, my favorite posts are about my family. That’s why you’ll find a common theme in this sampling of posts that mean the most to me. I hope you find a little something special in them, too.

{I will disclose here that there is an abundance of teardrops on my keyboard as I’m sorting the words I’ve written about my children over the years. I have tissues at the ready.}

One of my favorite posts about my oldest son, Nathan, is a letter I wrote to him on his seventh birthday. This post is about how terrifying it is to know the baby you carried home from the hospital has to make his own way in this often-cruel world. Just because it scares me, however, doesn’t mean I have any doubt in him:  Birthday Letter

Owen is my middle child with enormous brown eyes and a wild streak to match. I’ve written about him destroying my living room in seconds flat, and I’ve written about him getting teary whenever he sees a sweet commercial. This post has some real admissions of how tiring motherhood can be, but this little guy has a way of waking me up: To My Rotten Kid

I didn’t have to search the Nora tab to know what post I wanted to share about my curly-haired girl. The words in this post began swirling in my head months before I met her. It’s about hoping my daughter grows up to independent, carefree, and open to going where the wind blows {I had no clue how right I would be}: My Wildflower

When it comes to postpartum posts, this is my favorite. This one is dedicated to the new mom, and how powerful and strong and invincible she is… stretch marks and all: The Shape of a Mother

One of the best things that helped me through the loss of my second pregnancy in March 2010 was writing. I wrote blog posts to help myself understand how I felt and share my emotions in a way I couldn’t say out loud. This post was published five years after my miscarriage, and these words still ring true: Still Standing

Of course I wouldn’t have the inspiration to put these words together and throw them into cyberspace without the man who hatched the idea to start this family in the first place. This is one of my favorite posts about my relationship with my husband: Easy Eight

Thanks for reading this month, y’all! I hope you’ll find me on Facebook or Instagram, or keep up via my blog. It’s been an honor sharing my words with you this month, and I’m eager to see which wonderful writer will wear the crown next.

by Jessica Bauer, Miss July 2016

Today I’m sharing a typical day of life with the Bauer Bunch.

Such a request can range from two boys chasing each other through the house with light sabers to one girl accidentally taking Cookie Monster for a potty swim. There’s not much of a norm around these parts. Instead of giving a play-by-play of what I do throughout my day {which could easily turn into a book}, we’re going to do this snapshot style. This is a peek into a Friday spent at home – on the hour, every hour. Are you ready for this? Hang on, because here we go!

8:00 I roll over in my bed to see Owen chase Nathan out of my bedroom, followed by the sound of one boy laughing and one boy shrieking. Curious, I crawl out of bed and start the coffee.

9:00 I hear the princess call my name from her crib. I open the door and start the “looking for Nora” game. Apparently my voice wasn’t nice enough. I exit, close the door, and start again.

10:00 I tell Nora she looks beautiful this morning. She tells me I’m gorgeous and asks for three more waffles.  Her attitude sours when I deny her request. I count to ten.

11:00 There are laundry, Legos, and tiny Shopkins as far as the eye can see. That coupled with one soggy diaper means it’s time for me to stop working on blog posts and kick it into gear. Also maybe I should get dressed.

12:00 Nora cries because there aren’t any beans, but it turns out macaroni and cheese will suffice. Nathan shows me a skin he made on a Minecraft editor and I once again jot “learn more about Minecraft” in my mental to-do list. Owen asks for a bowl of shredded cheese and Ranch.

1:00 The cleaning bug bit after lunch and my house looks like a whole new world. I even walked outside to give my chickens non-boiling water. I tell the kids it’s time to wind down because we’re all taking a nap. The boys know this is a clever ruse to trick their sister, but I’m wishing it was not.

2:00 Nora finally gave in and is snoring from the crib. I am forever folding laundry. Why does it seem like more laundry comes out than goes in? Is it just me?

3:00 Crayons cover the table and pieces of loose leaf paper fly as the boys draw everything from World of Warcraft characters to Daddy holding a balloon. I use these quiet minutes to catch up on social media and make sure my calendar contains some form of blog plan.

4:00 I get the text that Jonathan is on his way home from work and do a happy dance. This time, I correctly get Nora out of her crib, and we scramble to clean a house that has somehow come undone again.

5:00 Jonathan arrived home about 15 minutes ago and the Bauer Bunch rejoiced. Owen cried tears of joy because he missed his Daddy and I cried tears of joy because he’s willing to open Capri Suns.

6:00 My dear husband is mowing the grass as the heat index reads 99. The boys are jumping on the trampoline and droplets of kid-flavored sweat fly through the air. Nora and I look at our garden for two minutes, then head back to the living room. We perform a jazzy dance to a Bubble Guppies song about coconut water. Who’s winning here?

7:00 Like many summer nights, we don’t realize it’s dinner time until it’s too late. Owen shows me a video of a random kid opening Ghostbusters toys and Jonathan jumps in his truck to round up grub.

8:00 Nora and Owen are making a ring in the bathtub.  The shampoo turns the rat’s nest on my daughter’s head into perfectly spiraled golden curls. It’s not fair, I tell you.

9:00 I offhandedly mention the lightning bug I spotted floating by the trampoline, and now we’re all outside in pajamas.

10:00 Everyone’s asleep in their beds, so it’s time to pop the popcorn and the wine cork and have a little grown up time.

10:03 Owen’s at the foot of the bed.

By Dr. Margaret Rutherford, Miss June 2016

It’s a little hard, three and a half years later, to pick out my “fav” posts.

But that’s what I’ve been asked to write about, in this, my final week of being Miss June on Arkansas Women Bloggers.

I’ve loved doing it. Thanks again to the powers that be for inviting me to the party.

Like a first child, my first post has to be one of my favorites. I initially began blogging about my empty nest experience, terming it NestAche. I didn’t quite know what people would think, presenting myself as being totally vulnerable and acting the part. But write it I did, just the way it happened. My first full day of empty nest… I’ve gone on to write several posts on the topic, with one of the more visited (and pinned…) being how to prepare for empty nest before you ever get there.

But then, the second child comes along, and you love them just as much. I liked this post, about letting go with intention, because I knew I was moving on in my own journey, with empty nest, with blogging, with my life. It was a marker for me.

Times really were changing, and I was changing with them.

The third child turned out to be twins. Written within a few months of one another, they are by far my most popular posts. On very different subjects, and launched from my new website, I was floored by “going viral”. This initial post on Perfectly Hidden Depression (PHD)  sparked more than a hundred private emails to me. People wanted me to know how relieved they were — that someone was describing their lonely and painful life. I have since become passionate about the topic, and am researching and writing a book.

The second twin was fairly casually written in my sunroom, right before my 24th wedding anniversary. I wrote about what marriage was for me, and what it wasn’t. I called it “Marriage Is Not For Sissies.” 50,000 shares and 200,000 FB likes later (on The Huffington Post) and I was almost catatonic. I was skewered for using the word “sissy,” which I had no clue had any homophobic meaning, and HuffPost changed it.  It’s what my brothers called me when I was scared of something.

That taught me to Google things before I wrote them down.

Two others bring a tear to my eye — both about my own personal life. And grief. I’ll let them speak for themselves.

The first about my friend Gary.

The other… my mom.

I’ll keep writing. On PHD. On marriage and midlife. On mental illness, confronting its stigma and getting appropriate treatment.

My hope is that one thing is evident in each post, no matter what the topic.

I am trying to help people believe in change, believe in healing — and believe in themselves.

by Dr. Margaret Rutherford, Miss June 2016

In mid-May, my son graduated from Vanderbilt in Nashville. My heart swelled with pride.

Two days later, my heart was still my focus. But I thought I was either about to have a heart attack, or a stroke.

When I got to the hospital, I had chest pain, shortness of breath, dizziness, nausea, and a tight pressure I had never felt — or if I’m truthful, I’d felt at times, but denied its significance.

After a day and a half of heavy meds to bring down sky-high blood pressure, plus going through every heart procedure you could have, I learned that I had an unusual heart condition called “Prinzmetal’s Angina”, which can be treated through medication. The symptoms mimic those of having a heart attack.

Suffice it to say I was glad to hear that news.

That’s what I learned medically. Yet it’s what I was reminded of emotionally that is most meaningful.

My family and friends are all the bounty one woman could ever need. To say they “rose to the occasion” is not enough.

My son slept on the floor beside me, putting off the camping trip he had been planning for months with friends. My husband took care of everything that had to be… well, taken care of. Both, although upset, stayed close to me. My secretary took a whole day of her weekend to call umpteen hundred patients (not really, but it was a lot) to try to let them know the doctor would not be in. Brothers found out info. Sisters were constant in their support. Nephews (one, helpfully a physician) and nieces sent texts and funny pics of kids to make me laugh. Friends, both old and new, messaged and did what they could to help — even if it was to chide me a bit.

“Now maybe you’ll slow down.“

All sent their own kind of prayers.

When I got a little teary, waiting my turn for a heart cath, I channeled my dad, who’s deceased, but had major cardio issues himself.

What would he tell me?

“Focus on all that you have, and not on what you can’t control.” 

He also would have reminded me to tell my son I wasn’t afraid. And that I did.

But let’s face it. Many people don’t have the words of a wonderful dad as a guide, or a family that’s standing by to come at a moment’s notice, if the news isn’t good.

Perhaps you’re one of those people.

You can still experience “family.” I have a plaque in my office that states, “Friends are your family of choice.” You can create relationships that will be there for you — people who will love you the way you should have been loved. If you were abused or neglected, talking to someone about it can help.  Working through shame is vital (children tend to blame themselves for abuse…). Then you can grieve for the time you didn’t receive that safety — when you were a child and could only survive parents who couldn’t or didn’t protect.

These same parents or other family members may still be in your life, and remain selfish, abusive, or hurtful. You can alter your relationship with them. It can be difficult, but it can be done.

You’re not helpless anymore.

Building your own family takes work, but seems better than staying emotionally paralyzed, angry, or bitter. You may have to work through those feelings as well, as they’re as much a part of grieving as sadness.

You can build a network of caring people, who will be there for you when you need them.

Please think about it.

Whether or not that family has been yours since the get-go, or it’s been carefully created by you, it doesn’t have to matter. When push comes to shove — their love is really all that counts.

Intangible bounty – there waiting for you, when you need it.

by Dr. Margaret Rutherford, Miss June 2016

I haven’t quite known what word to choose to describe the feeling of being June’s Blogger of the Month for Arkansas.

When I was growing up, I kept a scrapbook. In it every year, there were cutouts from the newspaper of the winners of the Miss Arkansas pageant. I wondered if I would, one day, stride gracefully down that platform, wearing a tiara and carrying a bouquet of red roses (although I never participated in a pageant in my entire life…).

So here I am, many years later, representing Arkansas, for one month, in the blogging world. I am thrilled, delighted, honored. I’m tickled pink there’s no tiara for me to balance on my head, and certainly grateful there was no bathing suit competition that I had to sweat my way through. So thanks to the powers that be for asking me. I will serve out my term as well as I can, and respectfully hand off the scepter to the next worthy blogger.

I’m a clinical psychologist, but began blogging in December of 2012, mostly as an empty nester. My blog was named “NestAche” (sounds like headache), and I wrote about how I was getting through my only son being a freshman in college. It felt very strange, and I wasn’t at all sure about it (the empty nest and the writing, actually.) Therapists shouldn’t talk about themselves openly with patients, and it felt very odd to be sharing more of my private life on the Internet. Frankly, I struggled a bit with whether or not it was ethical.

But I realized what century I was living in, and since I lived in a smaller community, much was known about me anyway. It was just the thought of me, talking about me. So I breathed deeply, and wrote. I had two criteria, and still do. I would continue if: I got feedback that my words were helping people, and if I were having fun. If either of the two of those things stopped happening, I would stop writing.

After a while, I got itchy. I started branching out, writing about the work I did with couples, writing about panic attacks and eating disorders. I wanted to write what I was doing in my real work. Then, I went to BlogHer for the first time, and realized I had to become my own “brand.” If my website was going to grow, I had to step out front.

I got lots of help from Alli Worthington, who spoke here at AWB a couple of years ago. And in April of 2014, I launched my second website, Dr. Margaret Rutherford: Helping You Believe In Yourself.  I can remember when my first post went “viral.” I didn’t know what was happening. I thought my laptop was broken. It was also my initial post on a topic I have now grown very passionate about, what I call perfectly hidden depression. I’m writing a book on it, and have a literary agent whose guiding me through that process, which is fascinating and infuriating.

During this time, I’ve been seeing 7 to 8 patients every day, usually five days a week! So I’ve been a busy woman, just like all of you, I’m sure.

I still get feedback that my words are helpful. And I’m still having fun. Not all of the time, to be truthful. I get down, and tired. But most of the time, I’m smiling.

Like now.

If there is one thing I have learned, it is that the relationships you make through blogging will help your blog, and you, thrive. Count of them. Reach out to them. They will reach back when they need you as well.

If I can answer any questions any of you might have reading this, I would be more than happy to do so. You can privately email me: askdrmargaret@drmargaretrutherford.com.

Thanks to all of you for reading. And my gratitude to Arkansas Women Bloggers for support, encouragement, and friendship.

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Hi. My name is Carmella. I’m excited to represent my favorite group of women bloggers this month. Thank you to Julie at EGGS & HERBS for extending me the opportunity and for keeping me and all the other gals corralled.

I started blogging in 2008. I was in a transition phase. I had recently gone from busy, corporate mom to instant stay-at-home mom to better meet my son’s needs. I enjoyed being able to have that time with my sweet boy and I will forever cherish that time with him. However, I would be fibbing if I didn’t admit that I missed having a keyboard at my fingertips, being able to creatively solve problems and connecting with other adults.

As the boy napped each afternoon I jumped online to search for fun projects we could do together, new recipes and whatever else I was obsessing over that day (diy projects, bug bites, fashion trends, etc.). These searches led me to blogs – a new concept for me. I bookmarked a few favorites. Bookmarking turned to lurking. Lurking turned to engaging and before I knew it I had connected with several new friends across the country. This filled my need to exercise my brain and to connect.

But something was still missing.

Due to the loss of income from leaving my career, I needed a way to supplement our income. I had previously joined a home décor and entertainment company as a consultant to have one girls-night-out a month and score a few free products for my home. I enjoyed leading the parties, connecting with other women and sharing easy ideas for home décor and entertaining. Their reactions of awe and delight as I shared what I found to be simple ideas became addictive. Hosting more parties was not a practical option. I needed to find a way to share my creativity and reap the reward of inspiring others.

Enter Southern Fried Dreams.

In fall 2008 I decided to get outside my comfort zone and launch a blog initially titled Southern Fried Dreams which was later changed to Southern Fried Gal. I’ve been reaping the rewards since day one. In the early days it provided an outlet to meet my disparate needs as my identity was morphing. It provided a platform to creatively grow my at home business from in person and local to online and nationwide which led to a little more income and a lot more self-confidence. It provided a hands-on education that extended my credibility when I decided to re-enter the workforce years later. Even more importantly, it connected me to really cool people, like the women in this group, that I now call friends.

My journey has changed.

In December 2014 I decided to say goodbye to Southern Fried Gal. I didn’t have the same amount of time to contribute as I did in the past. My journey had changed and I no longer identified as strongly with that brand. It was a hard decision to say goodbye.

Still needing a place to connect, I launched Uncommonly Connected, a little knockabout place to bring together people and ideas. It serves some of the same needs as before and a few new ones. I have a vision to grow this little corner of the digital world when the time is right. For now it’s a place for me to slow down, a place to reflect and share, and most importantly a place to continually connect.

Speaking of connecting, besides my blog here are a few other places I like to hang out, Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook and sometimes Twitter. If we haven’t already, let’s connect!

I entered a new season this past year when my husband, Dan, retired. So, I decided to record a few of those moments in my blog. I call it “Life in the Gray Zone.”

I hope you’ll join me as I share some of our stories from the “Gray Zone.”

Taking Care of Yourself: Life in the Gray Zone

A Wake-up Call: Grace in the Gray Zones of Life

Finding Grace on Narrows Road: An Energy Crisis in the Gray Zone

It’s Always Something! 4 Tips about Rashes and Relationships from the Gray Zone

Every Day is Saturday! Lessons from the Gray Zone

 

My life changed dramatically this past year—my husband, Dan, retired. And retirement life did not turn out quite like I expected. In fact, I don’t know what I thought it would look like. But I’m adjusting.

“How’s retirement?” One of Dan’s friends asked.

If you know Dan, you won’t be surprised at his quick humor and pithy comebacks. So, don’t say I didn’t warn you. But if you dare to ask him that question, he’ll just smile and repeat his canned response, “Every day is Saturday.”

The first time I heard Dan reply to questions about retirement, I thought, Maybe for YOU every day is Saturday. But I haven’t retired yet!

Bottom line—we’ve entered into a new season of life at our house.

EVERY DAY IS SATURDAY!

If you happen to drop by our house, you’ll also see some subtle changes in the décor—like the two new recliners in front of our big-screen TV. But we might not even be at home. We might be walking some farmer’s field, looking for arrowheads. Or we may be enjoying a day trip, driving through the Ouachita Mountains.

Then again, you might find me hiding out in my office, trying to finish an article or book by the deadline. 

“What’s the big deal?” you ask. “Why do you need to ‘hide out’ in your office to work? I thought you said, ‘Every day is Saturday.’”

Do you know how hard it is to focus on a writing project when “every day is Saturday”?

Yet the first eight weeks of Dan’s retirement, that is exactly what I needed to do. Why? I had a deadline to meet to turn in my first book manuscript.

Yes, I am a late bloomer. Just when my ‘baby boomer” decides to wind up his career, I’m stepping into a new role as a book author. And my first book, Words That Change Everything, releases in June 2016.

“What a great time write! a writing friend suggested. “Maybe you can finish some of those other projects you stated earlier.”

Right now, I’m also working on another book now about grandparenting with another writing friend and blogger, Mary Larmoyeux. So, I am writing a few of the stories that matter most to me. And I do hope to complete some of the other projects that I haven’t finished. But I’m also preparing to launch my first book. And it can be a challenge at times to fit everything I need to do into my daily schedule.

“Why?” you ask.

Remember—EVERY DAY IS SATURDAY!

by Karen Jordan, Miss April 2016

“Imagination? It is the one thing beside honesty that a good writer must have. The more he learns from experience the more he can imagine” (Earnest Hemingway). 

Imagine your fondest dreams coming true. What do you see? 

Years ago, a dream was birthed in my heart. Then, I buried it.

That’s impossible, I thought. How could I ever consider publishing a book? I’ve never even written for publication!

Fast forward a couple of decades, and a renewed vision of my dream unfolded. I had returned to college to take a “few” writing classes one semester—which turned into five years and two degrees. One of my favorite writing instructors at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock (UALR), Dr. Sally Crisp, shared the names of several writers who had published after the age of 50. 

Author Frank McCourt’s story caught my attention since we were reading one of his books, and I was in my 40s at the time. McCourt, an Irish-American teacher, who grew up in poverty, did not become a published author until the age of 66. Angela’s Ashes, his autobiographical book, became a best seller and won the Pulitzer Prize. 

I never imagined that my dream would be fulfilled this year as I join the ranks of the 60-plus first time authors. My first book, Words That Change Everything: Speaking Truth to Your Soul, will be released this coming June. 

Discouraged? Thinking your dreams will never be fulfilled?

Take heart! If God has birthed this hope in your heart, His Word offers you this promise:

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. (Eph. 3:19 The Message)

How do you hold on to your dreams?