Butthole Parenting.

So Ive heard it said that opinions are like buttholes… everyone has one.  I find that to be untrue.  It seems these days people have multiple opinions on certain subjects… and I’ve yet to meet someone with multiple buttholes.

The subject I am referring to is Parenting. I think its crazy how many different schools of thought there are regarding raising your children… and most of them with pretty decent research to back them up.  It can be very confusing for a first time mom.  

I should preference this by reminding you that Jimmy and I were married for 10 years before we brought our bundle of joy into the world.  Thats alot of time to prepare and make parenting decisions before we even had kids.  We started reading parenting books and “interviewing” friends many years before we became pregnant.  We went into parenting pretty prepared and with an good idea of how we wanted to do things…

Some ideas have changed since Max has been here, some of them remain the same… some people agree with our school of thought, some dont… and what I’ve learned is… thats ok.  

I’m big on education… I feel you should educate yourself before making a decision, especially when it comes to your children… but if you decided to do things differently- shouldn’t that be ok.  Shouldn’t we support eachother rather than constantly tear at eachothers parenting decisions.  

We dont vax, we dont circ, we cloth diaper, we “naturally” parent, Max is on donor milk because I couldn’t breast feed but still am a HUGE breastfeeding advocate… but if you use disposable diapers, vax, cir and use formula…. cant we still be friends… Cant our kids still play together and no judgement be passed between us.  

Im speaking this to myself as much as I am speaking this to other mothers.  Its hard when you feel so convicted about certain things to not judge others when they do the opposite.  I’ve been called a hippie… Ive even been told that I’m irresponsible for not vaxing and circumcising… but I have research to back up my decisions and peace of mind in making them.  If you can live with our decisions, I can live with mine… Now can we move on and just love and support each other. Because lets face it… parenting is hard.  

So when I see you in the play yard, and you have sweet tea in your little one’s sippy cup… I will not pass judgement.  Because Im sure you did your research and are at peace with your decision… so dont pass judgement on my hippie children who smell like lavender and patchouli.  lol!

This post by an awesome blogger friend sums it up WAY better than I could have ever said.



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Home is where… I am not.

So… It has been an interesting past few days.  South Carolina has been experiencing some record breaking low temperatures the past few nights.  Thank goodness we are on the up swing.  Im not one to usually complain too much about cold weather.  Winter is used to be my favorite season. Monday night we had lows in the single digits.  I cant remember when we had a winter that cold.  Usually if it gets down in the teens we are shocked.  Jimmy and I took all precautions… we wrapped the outside spickets with towels, left water dripping in all the faucets… And we woke up Tuesday morning with no problems… WOO HOO!

Until about 4:30 Tuesday afternoon.  As I was sitting on the couch- feeling sorry for everyone I was reading about whose pipes busted due to the cold (and honestly thinking “you should have left your faucets dripping) I hear what I can only describe as a waterfall… in my kitchen.  I ran into the kitchen to see what was going on.  After I picked myself up from a pretty nasty fall I realize there is water gushing out of my can lights in the ceiling.  When I say gushing… Im not exaggerating.  Thank God I am a quick thinker… I pulled the trash bag out of the trash can and stuck the trash can under the heaviest gushing can light.  Ran to the garage, dumped out a Rubbermaid container and grabbed a 5 gallon bucket and put those under 2 other can lights… then the ceiling started leaking in other spots… I finally found enough buckets to contain most of the heavy flow, grabbed EVERYTHING in the house that was absorbent (blankets, towels, my comforter etc) and tried to keep the water in the kitchen as best as I could.  I called Jimmy, then called my dad.  Jimmy said he was going to head home right away.  Dad tried to get me to calm down and had me cut the electric breakers (the walls started to spark) and turn the water off.  I had NO clue how to turn the water off… but an angel, in the form of my neighbor was driving by just as I was running around in the yard like a crazy person and helped me turn the water off.  He told me that numerous people including himself had the same issue.

So… now what.  I was standing in water up to my ankles, with a screaming baby and two shaking and confused dogs.  What do I do now.  I had enough sense to go ahead and call the insurance and try to get a clean up crew out asap.  Learned that my deductible was WAY more money than we have- But… at least we have Homeowner’s Insurance. Shortly after a good friend of ours came to the house and replaced the pipe that had busted.  This pipe didn’t just bust… It shattered- in about a 10 ft long section.  Upon further inspection we found that there were actually 4 pipes that had busted.  But our friend had them fixed before the clean up crew even arrived the next day.  The weight from the water eventually collapsed the ceiling in the kitchen leaving my kitchen covered in insulation.


I’m not gonna lie… I kinda lost it there for a while, and yeah, I’m a bit depressed about it.  The mitigation crew that came out last night told Jimmy it could be a month before the house is livable again… Which means we are living couch to couch until then.  Which is hard with 2 dogs and a 4 month old baby… regardless of how hospitable people are.  We are very blessed to have had LOTS AND LOTS of offers of places to stay. I’m incredibly grateful.  But none of it is home.  And one day into this… I already miss home.  Just because its HOME… my HOME.  We have been put up in a very nice apartment with our own private space and a mini kitchen.  They have welcomed our dogs and are taking very good care of us… but its not home.

Give me a few days, and I will be able to be more positive about this- but right now I am mopey… We love our home.  And I hate to see it in the state it is in.

It could be worse… I do know that.  Max and the dogs are safe.  We are fine, and we have a roof over our head.  I keep thinking about how much worse it would have been if we weren’t home.  My dogs… My poor dogs would have freaked out.  We keep Chewy in a kennel… what would have happened to him.  What if the water got high… what if the water caused an electrical fire… My poor dogs.  Thank GOD I was home.

I know this post makes me sound like a Debby Downer… But I do want to say thank you.  We had meals brought to us, friends help repair things, neighbors bring us water so our poor dogs could have a drink… TONS of people offer us a place to stay… and still more offers to help pouring in.  Your kindness DOES overwhelm me.  And I am forever grateful to you all.

I know the Lord is trying to teach me something through all of this… I just hope that I’m able to keep an open heart enough to receive it.

Thank you Lord for keeping me and my babies safe and providing for us throughout EVERY need.  Even the ones we don’t like.

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2013 Highlights

2013 was by far the most difficult yet most rewarding year of my life.  There were loads of highlights.  I could write and make my hand hurt, or I can just show you in pictures…

This is how we closed out 2012…Image

We found out the gender of our baby in March… definately a huge highlight.  We had our immediate family present to find out that the Sorrells name will carry on… ITS A BOY!


Once we found out the gender, we could finish  up the nursery.


In April, Jimmy and I celebrated 10 years of marriage in the Mountains of North Carolina.


In early May I had my first of 3 baby showers.


In late May I made an 8 hour road trip, pregnant, and alone to see my cousin and Uncle that I hadn’t seen in  years.  I also got to visit with other family.


We spent or Summer camping and spending time with wonderful friends.  Being pregnant in the summer is umm… HOT! So I spent as much time in the water as possible.


I quit my job in July to finish out my pregnancy and hang out with these 2 lazy butts.


We watched my belly grow…


And grow…


And grow.


And finally on August 28th, we welcomed our beautiful baby boy, Maximus Alexander, into the world.


Then life as a stay at home mommy began…


We took Max on his first road trip in October to see his cousin Miranda get married and meet all the family…



I judged the Art Slam competition for the first time in December.


I spent my 31st birthday with this special little man…


And of course we LOVED experiencing Max’s first Christmas.


I hope everyone had a wonderful 2013 and may 2014 bring you much joy and peace.

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A Different kind of Christmas.

This Christmas was different than Christmases past.  Yes, it was Max’s first Christmas… but it was more than that.  There were no Christmas presents under the tree… there was no running around on Christmas day.  No chaos, no confusion, no drama.  Can you imagine… a drama free holiday lol.  

Early this year Jimmy and I made the decision not to exchange Christmas gifts since we knew we would have so much going on in the 4th quarter of the year.  This was a hard decision… Jimmy is Mr. Christmas. He begins buying Christmas presents on December 26th and is almost always half way through by April.  Its insane.  I’ve gotten better over the years and am usually done around August.  But with a new baby on the way and me quitting my job to be a stay at home mommy, we knew that the holidays would likely be a bit overwhelming and decided we would simplify.  This was a great financial decision… and an even better spiritual decision.  

Now don’t think I realized this when making the decision…oh no, I’m not that holy.  As a matter of fact I spent Christmas morning sipping coffee, watching the Disney Parade and pouting because there were no presents to open.  It wasn’t until a few days later that I realized how wonderful our Christmas actually was.  In between sips of coffee and feeling sorry for myself I would get so angry.  Why was the absence of presents so upsetting to me.  I received so much this year.  I had a wonderful healthy pregnancy.  I had a life changing euphoric natural birth.  I got to hold my precious baby boy in my arms for the first time.  I was able to quit my job so I can spend every day with my son.  I was able to grow and develop my marriage even more, and celebrate 10 years of wedded bliss.  I made friendships and developed others to new depths… and every day I get to wake up knowing that a savior gave his life so I might live… Forever.  Seriously… why was I so upset over the absence of presents.  

I cant give you a good answer. It did upset me… but I now realize that what I did was give myself the opportunity to reflect and bask in the real reason for Christmas.  

As a Christian Christmas is a day to celebrate the birth of a savior.  Have you ever thought of it like that… the day the one person who could save you was born (not necessarily on that day, but the day we celebrate it none the less).  Imagine you are hanging on cliff… the only thing keeping you there is a string off your shirt hung up on a rock.  You cannot reach the edge and below you is miles of jagged rock… certain death.  And some random dude comes in on a helicopter and rescues your dumb butt… I’d say that’s cause for celebration.  I doubt you’d be very concerned with gifts that Christmas…  So why don’t we celebrate every Christmas with that kind of fervor?  Why aren’t we so thankful and overwhelmed every year that the gifts don’t matter?  I had to face this question as I sat pouting on my couch Christmas morning.  Why couldn’t I be so overcome with gratitude that God sent a person, in flesh, to save me… 

Christmas day was confusing for me.  A moment by moment battle between my flesh and my spirit… but I am thankful for our simple Christmas.  Now, I love gift giving.  I love gift giving just as much as I love gift receiving… and yes, we plan to exchange gifts in the future… but I pray that every year I am able to examine why we celebrate.  Why we get excited every year.  Is it the presents?  

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My Birth Story

My husband and I found out we were expecting in December of 2012, right around Christmas time and my 30th Birthday. We had been married 10 years and had been trying to get pregnant for over 4 years. We were elated! I had a fairly easy pregnancy with no complications or difficulties. We knew we wanted a natural birth so we got a Doula and decided to use GHS Midwifery Care for our birth. Prior to Max’s birth there were 3 things I knew I did not want in my birth story… Pitocin, an Epidural and C-Section. But God has a way of humbling me… My due date was August 27th. On Monday night, the 26th at about 11pm my water broke. Contractions began immediately. Before long they were less than 5 mintes apart. I called my midwife and Roxanne, our Doula, and both told me to go back to bed and that my contractions wernt strong enough. I thought they were crazy but they were right. By the next morning the contractions had slowed significantly. Around lunch time on Tuesday the 27th they picked back up and were pretty strong by that afternoon. I called Jimmy to come home from work and told Roxanne to come to the house at about 3pm. Roxanne was still concerned that I may not be far enough progressed so we went to the mall to “walk the baby out”.



3 hours later we went on to the hospital. When they checked me I had only dilated 2 cm. So the dirty word “pitocin” was mentioned. Very disappointed I conceeded since at this point my water had be broken for 24 hours and I had been having contractions for most of that 24 hours. Roxanne agreed that at this point it was the best decision and I fully trusted Barb, my midwife, to help me make the best decision.



A few hours later I was progressing very well and by early that morning I was ready to push. During that time frame Roxanne and my husband were amazing- rubbing my back through contractions, repositioning me, using water therapy and aromatherapy. I wouldnt have made it without them. I was also impressed that Barb stayed with me the entire time, also helping me to remain comfortable through out that time. I started pushing between 7 and 8 am. I pushed for 2 hours. During that time Barb found that a part of my cervix would not move and Max’s head kept getting hung up on it. Barb tried pushing the cervix back with her hand whie I pushed, we tried belly sifting, repositioning, but nothing was working. Barb said my body needed more time. If I were to continue to push I would run the risk of hurting myself and possibly resulting in a C-section. She suggested an epidural just to give my body more time. Reluctantly (though somewhat relieved for the chance to sleep) I agreed to the epidural. By the time the anestesiologist arrived I wanted to kiss him. I had the epidural for 2 hours which allowed all of us to get a little bit of sleep, regain some strength, and allowed for my cervix to finally move out of the way. Barb stayed over her shift to make sure I was doing ok then handed me off to Bethany. Bethany checked me after the 2 hours and said I was ready. They removed the epidural and allowed me time so I could start to feel the contractions since I really wanted to have my baby without drugs. At 12:10, after only about 15 minutes of pushing, Max had arrived.



Bethany placed my perfect 6lb 9oz baby boy on my chest and Daddy cut the umbilical chord. Within 15 minutes he had begun to breastfeed. He was perfect and healthy, everything I prayed for. Though my birth included interventions that I intially did not want, I believe my birth is an example of when interventions are used as tools to assist in giving me the closest experience to the birth I wanted that my body would allow. If it wernt for the interventions and the good decision making by my midwife and doula I surely would have ended up with a C-section. My labor lasted a total of 37 hours. And to be completely honest, witht the comfort measures used and taught to me by Roxanne, it was completely managable. I would do it again in a heartbeat… but not without my doula.


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I can not believe that I have not blogged in over 3 months.  I still have to post my birth story and my son is now 3 months.  Geesh!  But that is just what mommyhood has been for me.  A fast paced whirl wind.  Right when I think I have found my stride the game changes.  It has been an adventure… but an awesome adventure.  

I LOVE being a mommy.  By far my favorite thing EVER!  It feels so good to have a little life that is part me and part Jimmy but wholly his own.  Watching him grow and develop is truly amazing.  All the little milestones may sound small when you say them out loud, but when they happen, its like the world stands still and the most amazing thing just happened.  

Max is a miniature Jimmy.  They look so much alike that it is scary. He is a very happy content baby.  He sleeps well, naps well, eats well… He is a blessing!

I really don’t even know where to start.  So much has happened in 3 months.  I feel like I have a hundred things to post about.  I have alot of catching up to do.

Mommyhood has been a learning experience.  I went into this thing with alot of ideas about what I wanted to do and be as a mother.  I’ve had alot of success with some of those ideas, but some I have had to change or tweak. But all in all, I do feel as though I was prepared for the most part.  

Of course there have been many learning experiences, the biggest of which being that EVERYONE has an opinion.  That has been something that has been driving me nuts.  I don’t know if people think I’m stupid, or if they think that Jimmy just come up with stuff off the top of our heads… Every parenting decision we have made we have researched, asked people whose opinions we WANT to hear, and prayed about it.  Some of our decisions we may change if they don’t work, but others are non negotiable.  People have a hard time understanding that.  Oh well!

All in all mommyhood has been a huge blessing.  Jimmy and I couldn’t be happier.



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38 weeks and counting…

Yep, still pregnant.  

We are anxiously awaiting Max’s arrival.  I was pretty sure I would go early just because I had been carrying SO low for SO long.  But he hasn’t shown any signs of wanting out, other than the constant beating on my bladder and poking my tummy.  Its pretty neat to watch him move, especially now that he is big enough to occupy my ENTIRE belly.  Im still amazed that at this point I STILL continue to get bigger and bigger… by the minute it feels.  I have had contractions, but they have no pattern and no real strength to them, so Im sure its not labor yet.  I cant remember my dreams but I wake up about every hour in the night thinking I need to grab my bags and head to the hospital.  Everything is done, bags are packed, clothes are washed, nursery is finished… Now we just wait.  I cant wait to meet my little man.


There is so much about motherhood that I am excited about… Im just ready to get this part of my journey started. I know it will be difficult, I anticipate that there will be bumps in the road… but I’m ready for the challenge.

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On this here 4th of July…


Earlier this week my husband and I were discussing how disappointing it can be when someone- who enjoys our nations freedoms- doesn’t hold the flag in as high of regards as we do.  Don’t get me wrong… I know the flag is not the gospel… and I by no means elevate the flag above my God… but that flag stands for more than 13 colonies and a bunch of states to me.

Jimmy and I both come from military families.  Both my parents were in the Army.  Jimmy’s father was in the Marines.  My Grandfather was a Marine and my great Grandfather was a WWII Vet who had multiple medals including a purple heart.  I watched my Grandfather deteriorate and eventually pass away.  His death was not due to old war wounds but I watched him have flashbacks of Vietnam, I watched his legs turn black because of the Agent Orange he was exposed to… and you know what- I bet he wouldn’t change a thing.  Not because of a piece of cloth with red and white stripes on it… but because of a flag that stood for everything he held true and important.  Because that flag allowed him to work and provide for his family as much or as little as he thought was necessary… because that flag allowed him to worship or not worship the God who holds us all together… because of that flag that gave him the freedom and ability to own and operate multiple business as he so chose… because of that flag that allowed him to have 5 children and raise them how he saw was best.  Not only did he fight for our country’s freedom, but he also served to protect it as a lifetime police officer and sheriff’s officer.  I’m sorry, but you do not put your life on the line EVERY SINGLE DAY OF YOUR LIFE for a cause you do not believe in.  When people disrespect the flag… I feel they are disrespecting my Pawpaw… and everything he held important… including me- his granddaughter.  So when  you call that flag “just a piece of cloth”… remember you are not just disrespecting our Flag and Country… you are disrespecting all of those who fought for the freedom you enjoy- and their families.  Look a veteran in the eye and try to explain to him why you don’t think that flag is important- I dare you!

Happy Birthday America!  And thank you to all who have served or have a loved one serving to protect and preserve our freedoms in any and all capacity.  Whether that means you are a Marine, a home school Mom who is teaching your kids the value of our freedoms, a Police Officer. Border control, Senator etc… THANK YOU!  I appreciate what you do and what you stand for!

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There are days where I just crack myself up.

Being my own entertainment is not something I always set out to do… but it happens.  Today is a good example of this.

8:30 am- Im going to go to Walmart on my lunch break to look for a patch kit for my float

11:00 am- Ummm…. why did I want to go to Walmart?  Cant remember what I needed.

11:30 am- Im just going to go to Walmart (hungry, tired and frustrated) and walk around… maybe something will jog my memory and I will remember what I needed.

12:30 pm…This is what I left Walmart with:

A tomato plant

A plastic planter for my hostas

A pack of washable breast pads

2 pair of lounge pants

A shower curtain liner

A box of little Debbie Swiss cake rolls

A piece of cake from the deli

A box of hot pockets

A bottle of root bear

A bottle of Sprite

And no patch kit for my float… 



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Packing a hospital bag is for the birds…

Or at least it is today.  

Having just entered my 3rd trimester I decided it was time to start purchasing the things I don’t have but need for my hospital stay.  I know its still a little early to have the bag packed and ready to go- but I wanted to go ahead and at least buy what I need over the next few weeks so I can have the back packed around week 32.  

So today I adventured to Target in search of some maternity/nursing pajamas.  I dont own pajamas… I don’t wear pajamas… If I need to be covered at night I usually rely on just a pair of leggings and a tank top.  and I know neither of those will be very appropriate for my hospital stay or when I’m at home with visitors.  So I was hoping to find some comfy lounge pants, maybe a few short nursing gowns and some nursing camis and nursing sleep bras.  I never  thought this would end in an emotional breakdown.

I went to Target because I figured maybe they would be a bit more reasonable in price.  I just cant fathom spending 50-60 bucks on a pair of pajamas I’m going to wear around the house.  Seems a bit ridiculous to me.  But it truth- Targets prices weren’t all that much better than anywhere else.  And apparently the manufacturers of nursing wear don’t take the fact that your already enormous boobs will now become engorged and GINORMOUS.  NO support in any of these things.  What the… WHY?  Is it too much to ask for a little support for the girls?  

I went to the dressing room with 11 pieces… was told I could only take 6… and by item 4 I was already overheated, irritated and almost to the point of tears.  I used the “family” dressing room.  Hey, this belly needs a bit more room than those tiny dressing rooms.  And of course I overheard someone outside my dressing room… “is there only one person in there?  Why is she using up a family dressing room”.  OK woman… wanna complain to my face… really? So when I came out of the dressing room, having nothing I wanted to purchase of course the dressing room clerk was on a personal call.  I wanted to be polite and let her know that I didn’t intend on trying on the other 5 pieces she wouldn’t let me bring into the dressing room (as if I was going to stuff them down my pants and steal them).  After standing there about 7 minutes I finally just walked off.  

I know that about 80% of my irritation is just pregnancy hormones and not anything to be blamed on Target.  But gosh- Im about this close (holds up two fingers really close together) to just saying screw it… Ill be naked!  

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