Whenever anyone asked for an introduction I always laugh and say, “I’m Courtney, I’m a Taurus. I love holding hands and long walks in the rain”. Then I go to to say I’m a wife and mother. But what does that really tell anyone. I’m a wife to Michael. Ok. I’m married. Is it supposed to mean I have enough social skills or hygiene to attract a mate? And really, what does saying I have six children tell you other than my laundry pile is gigantic?
I’m married. I’m married to the love of not just this life, but all eternity. This man completes me. He is truly my better half. He is grounded. Incredibly smart, genius even. And he makes me so twitterpated… I know I know, hence the six kids right?
The first time we met it was a real Romeo and Juliet moment. No, seriously, I had to go out on the balcony and holler down to him because he couldn’t figure out how to get into my building. He may have been under the influence, lol. The second I let my guard down I was madly and fiercely in love with this man.
I’m a mama. I’m a mama bear to enough children to yield an infield for a baseball game, or so the checkout clerk at Costco recently told me. It means that I haven’t slept through the night in years. I am always behind on laundry. My volume of dishes is enough to make most grown adults cry. Oh, and I haven’t had a clean house since like 2005. I’ll try and clean it up before people come over for the first time, you know, to try and pretend this isn’t my real life, but after that first visit, if you pass the “no judgment” test, you’re welcome back and get to see life as it really happens. When I say, “Oh gosh, it doesn’t normally look like this, I’m so sorry” it really means, “holy shit, we cleaned it up good!” hahaha.
I became a mama at 20. I had no clue what I was doing. I wasn’t good with kids. Hell, I wasn’t good with people. I raised her and she raised me. 16 months later her brother came along and we became a team. Throw a few miscarriages in there and number three came along. She was a demon child. Didn’t sleep, fussy, mean as hell to her siblings, but oh she had a flair for all things sparkly, colorful, and gaudy. Another few miscarriages, an engineering degree, and a few months in the army later I found out I was pregnant with number four. When people say they have “no clue how it happened” and you laugh because you know exactly HOW it happened… yeah, that was number four. Only seriously, no clue how that happened. I was set to go back to army training in a few weeks and had to tell my command I was pregnant. Whoopsies. But it ends up the second best thing that ever happened to me. I stayed in for another year and a half, but I never finished my officer training and had to get out or become enlisted, I opted out. We threw caution to the wind and decided to transfer to Texas so Michael could add a physics degree to his engineering path. My work allowed me to be remote and fly back often, only we had another “how the heck did that happen” moment. The fun part of that was that it was so unexpected I had the job of breaking it to my husband. I made sure I took him out to a great restaurant, ordered him a bottle of wine, yes, bottle, and started with a speech about all the great things that had happened to us that we hadn’t exactly planned… and ended with number five. Number six, okay, we own that one, that was planned. Number seven… haha. Maybe! We’re not ruling out a 2018 baby.
What does that really mean? It means my heart, hands, and house are full of love, messes, clothes, and lots and lots of noise. It means that I have to multitask. It means that I can’t be at your beck and call. It means you may have to be patient with me. It means if I don’t write it down you can bet your ass it won’t happen. It means I am intolerant to drama and bullshit.
But if you can deal with the bits and pieces, and my half functioning brain, I’m incredibly loyal and giving. I make myself as available as I can be. And I always mean well. I always try and leave the world a little better than I found it.
Introduce yourself why dontcha?
Telling the Story | a blog series about the characters and stories captured in the wild by The Rusty Lens