I can add "mom" to my resume

Hello? Is this thing on? I can't believe I remembered the password to this thing.

I'm aware I'm way overdue to keep this thing updated, but I'm here now and taking advantage while this story is fresh on my mind and I never want to forget it. Lucas' birth story. 

I actually had a good pregnancy, I would say great but I didn't love being pregnant, so I will settle with, "good." I had terrible pelvic pain the last few weeks that literally caused me agony and brought me to tears at night when I would *try* to sleep. But I didn't have bad heartburn,swollen feet, or have to pee a lot like a lot of preggos. I still suffered from a good bit of work stress, but, such is sales. 

My due date was 11/27/16. I knew Lucas was going to come early. I didn't really have a reason to think this, even the Dr told me to plan to go past my due date. But that didn't discourage me, I told everyone I thought he would make an early appearance, I even said something told me he would be born on the 18th. 

I went to my regular appointment on 11/17 at and everything was normal, I was only 1cm dilated, and there was no sign of an early labor. That afternoon,

I continued my "operation: Baby" duties, which included:

bouncing on my bosu ball (or yoga ball?)
eating pineapple
eating Scalini's eggplant parm (extra spicy)
walking
taking a peppermint oil and Clary bath
squats

Around 4:30am, I had a cramping sensation that felt like I needed to go to the bathroom. I waddled to the bathroom and nothing happened. I went back to sleep. I felt it again. I decided to take a bath. I kept feeling this cramp-like sensation, but it didn't hurt and wasn't consistent. I started timing them anyway and text my sister a "just in case" text since we had already decided she would be in the delivery room but being in Orlando, would need advanced notice. She wanted to head to Atlanta, but I wasn't convinced I was in labor so I asked her to hold off until I could call the Dr when they opened in a couple hours. I told Chazz I might be in labor, he didn't really seem phased but did ask if he should call into work. I knew this would be a long process and told him no. After the sun came up, I went for a walk around the neighborhood because I heard that real contractions would intensity with walking whereas false ones would subside. They didn't subside. I called my Dr and they asked me to come in so they could confirm if I was, in fact, having contractions. I called my sister, Shonda, and gave her an update. She was already packing her things for Atlanta. I told her I still didn't think she should come just yet because I hated the fact she might make a 7 hour drive for nothing. She said she didn't care, that being away from me was stressing her out and she wanted to take her chances. 

I took a shower, straightened my hair and put on a little makeup (if I was in labor I wasn't going to look super cray in pics). Chazz packed his bag (because of course he didn't do it weeks ago when I asked him to). He seemed to be in slow motion, not at all like in the movies when the husband is all frantic and out of control. In fact, he was so calm that it irritated me and we spent a good bit of the morning bickering. Which really aggravated me, I mean. HELLO- I'm in labor (maybe) here! 

We got to the Dr around 10am. The cramping was getting more uncomfortable, but I could still walk and talk. Once hooked up to the  monitor, they confirmed, I was 3cm dilated, 90% effaced and definitely in labor. They told us they were sending us straight to the hospital, I started crying hysterically. I had done everything in my power to get this baby to come and I was so over being pregnant, but I was terrified to actually have to have a baby. I wasn't ready! 

Chazz and I get back in the car to drive across the street, we start making our rounds of calls/texts to family and then we can't get out of the parking garage. Apparently, the credit card reader was down and you could only use cash- which we didn't have. The attendant was particularly unhelpful and a bad contraction came at the right time, where I got to yell,"I am in labor and need to get out of here!" at her. She let us go for free. 

We arrived at Piedmont and checked in (pretty cool it's almost like checking into a hotel). Once we got to our room, I changed into my own floral, pretty hospital gown that was a shower gift (also for pictures, duh). The nurses came in and introduced themselves, I cried again (I told you- I was terrified). It was getting real. I was offered an epidural but told Natalie (my nurse) I didn't want it too early and it wear off, she informed me that it doesn't wear off. I was then like, oh yeah girl, run it. 

working from the bed

Chazz is particularly quiet and distant. He doesn't seem excited, he seems annoyed. But it isn't like his normal annoyed attitude. I later figured out it was nerves. 

The anesthesiologist comes in for my epidural, I cry again (still scared, and now scared of this needle). I held Natalie's hand whilst crying and got that mug. Man, that thing is magic. But, as it turns out, the epidural stalls labor, so they break my water and had to start Pitocin to make the contractions more effective. The day dragged on.. at least to some, it went by pretty fast for me, and I was still working from the hospital bed. The epidural went from amazing to annoying when I couldn't even move my toes. I didn't like not having any control over my body. 

Family started to arrive, my mom being first and Shonda quickly following. Then my in laws arrive. It was a really long evening for them. 

Around 9:00ish, Natalie told me I would start pushing (cried again). The family all hugged me and it was game time. Pushing took 2.5 hours, during that time Chazz kept insisting that I have a cold rag on my forehead, despite me telling him he was gonna wipe off my eyebrows and I needed them on fleek for pictures. I had him play DJ and turn on some music, but that didn't help. Pushing was hard. And exhausting and I was getting discouraged. Natalie asked if I wanted a mirror and I was like, hex naw girl. Then she told me it would be motivating for me if I reached down to feel his head. I touched his head with the tip of my finger and it was so gross that I was already questioning my mothering. Lucas was stuck and couldn't get past my pubic bone. I only had 4 hours to push or we would explore doing a C-section. Right at 2.5 hours, Natalie says, OK I'm going to tell the Dr you're ready! 

They wheel in the "baby cart" which had the scale, etc and I cried AGAIN. Having a baby is very emotional business. I told the Dr I was afraid of tearing and he then decided it would be a good idea to debate whether tearing or a episiotomy was better..instead of just being encouraging and saying we wouldn't need to worry about it at all (insert eye roll). I don't remember much of the part with the Dr except that Chazz picked a spot on the wall and never looked down there like a good boy. Before I knew it Lucas was almost out and the Dr says to me, Megan, reach down and pull him out. I told him I couldn't reach that far, but he insisted. I Kourtney Kardashian-ed it and pulled that baby out! 

Shonda cut the umbilical cord and I couldn't enjoy the next few moments fully because NO ONE told me how TERRIBLE delivering the placenta was! I swear, my 70 year old male Dr must have put on a pair of stilettos and jumped up and down on my uterus. That was worse than delivering Lucas. And Natalie had turned off my epidural by then (I thought we were cool?). I let that slide because she was so wonderful and stayed past her shift to see me deliver and hugged me after. 


Lucas has some pretty gnarly scrapes and a big cut on his head from rubbing on my pubic bone for so long, and we both somehow had a slight fever, but otherwise was perfect. Lucas Gray Walton, born 11:49pm 7lbs 11oz. 

The following days deserve their own post... maybe I'll get to that in like a year or something... 

Oh, Leila..

Leila is our sweet puppy that we adopted in July. She is the cutest, sweetest, most terrible dog. We aren't sure exactly what she is- the AHS said "Hound Mix", but she's definitely part bad. She's the worst kind of bad, too. She knows how cute she is so whenever she's in trouble, she pours on the dramatics. 

I picked out Leila, she was my birthday present that clearly became more of my husband's. She and Chazz bonded right away- I was a little more hesitant. Not because I don't love dogs (because everyone knows I do) or I didn't love her, it was just bad timing to get a puppy while planning a wedding (and sticking to budget) and Bella didn't really connect to her like I had hoped. 

Bella &Leila- First Day of "School"

Bella will be 4 next month, and let me tell you, I had completely forgotten what it was like to have a puppy. I would say, "thank God for hardwood floors!" but they don't really matter considering Leila travels to the carpeted upstairs to handle most of her business. And she is FAST. She's petrified of Chazz because he is the disciplinarian and I'm the sucker. Whenever Leila does something wrong, all Chazz has to do is stand up and say her name and she literally starts crying as if she's being beaten while running away. It's the saddest/funniest thing. I remember one day I was upstairs and I heard, "Leila!" followed by the most horrific screams/squeals that I never knew a dog could make. I was sick. I was angry. I was not going to put up with Chazz laying a finger on that, or any, dog! I ran downstairs to coddle her (she was cowering on the other side of the room), glared at Chazz and yelled, "you're a monster!" BUT... turns out he hadn't even touched her.. she's just that scared of being in trouble. Bless her heart. She was put in time out not too long ago, which is in the guest bathroom upstairs. Apparently, Chazz put her in there with the light off since she was in trouble, which made me feel bad so I crept upstairs to listen out for her. I could hear a lot of thuds coming from the bathroom, figuring she was trying to escape. I decided she was ready to come out, and opened the door, only to hit her behind with it because she was too busy in the toilet and trash can! That dog was having a ball in time out. 

Leila and Bella. She has endless energy

In addition to the many accidents, Leila loves to harass her sister, Bella. And chew wooden furniture. And chew drywall. Seriously, I think she thought she could get to the neighbors house or something because she almost dug through the drywall during our "staying out of the crate" trial. Obviously, she is back in her crate. And poor Bella, Leila is bigger than her now but doesn't know it. She sits on her, lays on her, tackles her and Bella just takes it. Don't be fooled, though. Bella will show her who's boss when needed. She ain't a killer, but don't push her. 

No drywall is safe

Cuddle Bug

Leila is learning, though. She will be 1 next month (joint birthdays!), so she is still very much a puppy. Learning to shake was one of the first tricks we taught her and when she gets really excited, which is almost always, she will run up to you while simultaneously trying to shake with both paws. It's actually so cute. And she protects me! When Chazz springs some surprise jiu-jitsu on me, she is the first one to put an end to it. And she LOVES to cuddle! I have to force Bella to cuddle with me because she likes her personal space, but you just have to look at Leila and she's in your lap. One of the things we are teaching her is to go outside without a leash. We don't have a fenced-in backyard but Bella is trained and Leila sticks to Bella so it's been going well. Unless... there are people and/or dogs outside. One of our neighbors has 2 poodles that also do not go out on a leash (they actually behave). I can't tell you how many times Leila has darted off to play with them and I have to go run and drag her home while shamefully apologizing to the neighbors for Leila harassing their dogs. I know what you're thinking, keep her on a leash. Yeah, that would make sense. But we don't... She ran into another neighbor's garage one day while he was working out. That was fun. But then she gets in trouble and she seems so sorry that I just know she won't do it again.

Well... the other day, the poodles were back. And there was no stopping Leila. She took off toward her new friends, met them in their yard- and followed them inside their house! By the time Chazz made it to their house, she was playing on their furniture. The little boy that lives there was trying with all his might to drag her out while his mom keeps saying, "what's going on??". Probably the most embarrassing thing, ever. I can't believe this damn dog not only ran out of our yard and to the neighbors house, but ran inside and took it to a whole new level by jumping all over their couch. 

That's my girl. 

I still haven't been able to make eye contact with the neighbors.. 

Last Night Out

Hello all!

I am SO incredibly behind with my blog, and I send my sincerest apologies. Turns out, you neglect a lot of things when planning a wedding. Now that I'm a MARRIED WOMAN, I can catch up! 

I'm going to start my catching up with a post about my bachelorette party, which was in September. Of course, not all details can be revealed because that breaks the cardinal rule of a bachelor/bachelorette party! Let me start by saying that my maid of honor (and also hostess of the party) went WAY out of her way and I'm sure spent way too much money and I am forever grateful.

Elaine (my maid of honor and yes I changed her name.. just in case), asked me early on what I wanted to do for my last night out. Easy- I wanted to have a VIP section at Opera nightclub and get a hotel. That was it. I didn't need a limo or party bus, or anything more extravagant than that. Done. Elaine booked the section, and all was well. UNTIL, she got a call from one of the sales people at Opera that informed her that a private event was suddenly booked and the amount for the section would triple if we still wanted to go. Obviously, I didn't want her or anyone else to have to come out of pocket any more than they already were, so we opted for Prive nightclub instead. I sent Elaine my guest list and she took it from there. She included one instruction in her invitation, to wear black. This was determined before talking with me and I was actually kind of bummed at first because I have a closet full of black and now I would have to find something different. The idea was for me to stand out as the bachelorette, and I kind of loved that. 

As the day neared for my party, I had a cream/sequinned dress that fit my role as "bride to be" perfectly. The group of girls invited were to meet at the hotel Elaine booked, a couple blocks from the club. Before I packed my overnight bag and left to get my makeup done and head to the hotel, Chazz had some concerns for the night. He wanted to know if I would be able to check in with him every so often. I scoffed, and told him that I wouldn't be allowed to talk to him and that I probably wouldn't even have my phone on me. He would have to wait until I got home the next day. Speaking to your fiance during your bachelorette party breaks the second cardinal rule! He would absolutely not be talking to me, but I gave him Elaine's number in case of emergency. 

After I get my make up done at MAC, I rush to get dressed at a friend's apartment. As I'm getting dressed and doing my hair, I am receiving notifications that some of the girls aren't wearing all black. I was super annoyed because I went through so much trouble to find the perfect "non-black" dress so that I would "stand out", and it was going to be for nothing! Part of me wanted to throw a fit and use the "it's my party!" card to get my way. I then decided these girls were paying to celebrate me and I was glad they were coming, so I let the dress code go. Finally, I'm finished getting ready and now there's no time to eat, I'm running late for my own party (go figure)! I make it to the hotel, with 2 friends traveling with me. We get up to our room and it's decked out in bachelorette items with snacks and TONS of liquor. Heck. Yes. We start taking shots and mingling and I notice there are cliques starting to form. I do my best to get everyone to mesh together, but once I started drinking, I didn't really care about it. I was going to have fun regardless. 

On our way out of the hotel, we stopped in the lobby to take a group photo. The front desk clerk sporting a teardrop tattoo on his face agreed to take our picture. As I was handing him my camera, I informed him I was the bride to be. He responded, "ok." What? OK?? Annoyed by his lack of excitement for me, I told him to congratulate me. He said, "I will." So I said, "tell me now." and he says, "I will." We go back and forth like this before I get furious, take my camera back, and demand that no one accept his services of taking our picture! The nerve!

We get to the club and are escorted to our VIP section. We had 3 white, plush sofas and honestly, I'm not really sure how many bottles. But there was a sparkler involved and that was fun. This is where the night turns blurry. I remember dancing barefoot on the sofa. A lot. I remember drinking. A lot. I remember Elaine and other friends taking shots out of my hand being mindful of my consumption. I remember meeting some of the cast from Big Rich Atlanta (thanks to the pictures on my phone). Then.... I remember sitting on the back of one of the sofas and being grabbed by friends to be rushed to the nearest bathroom. You can imagine what happened in there. One of the cliques had already left at that point and the girls were starting to disperse, so I decided to call it a night, although I don't remember doing so. I remember walking barefoot back to the hotel with Elaine (because who has time for shoes in the streets of Atlanta?) and meeting up with some of the girls back at the hotel. Apparently, two girls in my group were kicked out because one was vomiting in a nearby trashcan (this was probably when I was vomiting in the bathroom- classy). 

I changed into my PJ's and decided that I wanted to go home. Seriously? Who tries to leave their own party? I grab my phone and call Chazz. I have no idea what that conversation consisted of, I just remember a friend grabbing my phone, telling Chazz I was going to sleep and hanging up. I guess at some point after that, I hid under the covers and proceeded to call him 9 times. NINE TIMES! I broke my own rule! The only reason I know this is because the next morning I received a text from my husband to be, apologizing for missing my 9 calls and making sure I was okay. Whoopsies. 

I returned home in one piece feeling good about my night, not literally because I had a hangover from hell. My parade was almost rained on when there was a public clique vs. clique fight on our group photo that was posted to Facebook which went from bad to worse, quick. All of a sudden there were people joining in that didn't go out with us! Before you knew it, there were moms, family members, co-workers, you name it- joining in on it. Finally, after hours of bickering, the picture was deleted and everyone returned to their regularly scheduled programming. You can't win 'em all, I guess. But from what I remember, I had a blast. Although I should have submitted a complaint on teardrop front desk clerk. In fact, I still might. 

My Birthday

Things change as you get older, this we know. One of the things that change is celebrating your birthday. At least for me. The older you get, the less of a celebration it is. In fact, I think I just wanted to "celebrate" to avoid falling into a deep depression about my age. And this birthday, almost everything went wrong. 

I intially decided to have a pool party at our neighborhood pool that barely gets any use. I figured, it would be effortless and inexpensive and I hadn't had a pool party in years. The only problem(s) was that the weather was so unpredictable with rain/thunderstorms and the fact that I had been carb loading for weeks, I wasn't exactly "bikini ready" or life ready or bride ready for that matter. At the last minute, I cancelled the pool party and decided to get a group to go to Dave & Buster's, something else I hadn't done in years. 

Saturday rolls around, I actually wake up with a stomach ulcer, diagnosed by my Dr/brother-in-law, who says I can't have any spicy food, chocolate or alcohol. Um, excuse me, it's my birthday weekend. So after hours of agony and some OTC meds, I caught a break. Then somehow got tricked into going to the gym with Chazz to watch team training. After the gym we decided to grab lunch, but somehow ended up at the Atlanta Humane Society. I saw the cutest puppy (named Blinkin, seriously?), and of course, had to have her. An hour later, a new puppy was in route home with us and we still hadn't had lunch. Once we got home, I got puppy duty and Chazz went to get us Zaxby's. Kickin' chicken for me please! Although he brought home a regular sandwich since I "can't have spicy food." Before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the night and head out.

Meet Leila 

We get to D&B and it's PACKED. 7 of us try to cram into a booth unsuccessfully and our waiter clearly hated his job and possibly his life, and was miserable. Once everyone ate, we headed to the games and almost every single one was broken and we had to wait on a maintenance tech repeatedly. After complaining to the manager (who tried to get a 'tude with me) she credited my game card $10 and we called it a night shortly after. 

Sunday rolls around and I go to The Cheesecake Factory with my mom because it's our tradition. We get another crappy server, the manager has to come over three times, my mom doesn't even eat and after waiting far too long and being neglected, she pays the bill, we get free cheesecake (win) and we leave. Sunday night, Chazz pulls me away from the computer and wedding invitations to surprise me with an ice cream cake, roses and both dogs in birthday hats at midnight, insert "Awww" here. 

awwwww

Then, it's Monday, my actual birthday! Too bad I don't get to sleep in because I waited until the last minute and I have to get my license renewed. I get up at 6:30, shower, get dressed and pull into the Marietta DDS and soon realize by the lack of people/cars that all locations are closed on Mondays. I guess I should have shared the information with the poor souls standing in line but it was too early and I hadn't had coffee. I return home, and take a long, much needed nap. I woke up feeling like a million bucks and told Chazz I was ready to celebrate and on the agenda was to go to the Atlanta Food Truck Park and then the Georgia Aquarium, two places I had never been. We head toward the Food Truck Park, walk over and whaddya know- they're closed. For no specific reason. Totally bummed/annoyed, we end up at Willy's next door where a burrito and margarita sufficed, but not before I left a piece of my mind on the Atlanta Food Truck's Facebook page. 

After eating too much, we head to the aquarium. Fun fact, you get in free on your birthday! We got there just in time to catch the dolphin show. I. Just. Love. Dolphins. In fact, I love them so much that when the show started, I couldn't keep it together. I'm crying hysterically, then I start laughing at myself for crying and Chazz looks over, bewildered at my emotional state and asks how can I be crying at such a cheesy show, and I respond, in between sobs, "I feel bad for the dolphins, they aren't with their families in their natural habitat!" Chazz is hysterically laughing while I'm hysterically crying and it only gets worse with every trick the dolphins perform. 

After exploring the aquarium and it's entirety, we decided to finally put our P.F. Chang's gift card to good use and have my birthday dinner there (hey, we are planning a wedding and have a new puppy, we are on a budget). Only problem is, we can't find the gift card and go to plan B. Except there isn't a plan B and Chazz mentioned he wants pizza, and I could use a drink. I take to Yelp to make sure the Mellow Mushroom in Vinings has a full bar, it does, and we head that way. We finally find parking, walk inside to discover.. they DON'T have a full bar. So, Chazz insists we leave to get me that drink and because it's getting late and we have two dogs at home, I suggest Jock & Jill's, a nearby sports bar with decent food but mostly, a bar and convenient location. I figure since there's a baseball game playing, it will be full of sports fans. Well, there were about 5 people, including Chazz and me and it wasn't exciting at all. I order a margarita on the rocks, no salt, the waitress checks my ID, doesn't wish me a happy birthday and brings me my drink with salt. Chazz didn't mention to any one is was my birthday so if there were perks, I didn't get any. Totally not how I wanted to end the day or how I envisioned my birthday dinner. Chazz was a good sport and we did everything I wanted to do with no complaints. I just had some bad karma, I guess. 

I guess the point is, I tried to make sure everything was "perfect" and nothing went the way I planned. I should have just enjoyed the aquarium and a (planned) dinner at a fun place and called it a year. I guess this was good practice not to have such high expectations for our wedding and accept that things can go wrong, and life will go on. Now my bachelorette party, that's a different story and it must be perfect!

Champion

Hi wonderful readers..

This post isn't an embarrassing story, but one that I feel like needs to do my papa bear justice!

As you all know, Chazz is a MMA fighter with an undefeated record of 4-0 (whoo hoo!). His last fight was in December (ya know, the one where he proposed.. no big deal) then shortly after that victory he had appendicitis which put him on a fighting hiatus. He was beyond ready to get back on the horse and decided to take a TITLE Muay Thai fight to get him back in his element before his next MMA fight next month. For those of you that don't know the difference between Muay Thai and MMA, here's some very basic knowledge (fighters reading, don't crucify me): basically, it's total stand-up striking for the most part. You do a lot of work from the clinch (google that if you must), use elbows, knees, kicks, etc. As with any fighting style, there are different rules in different states and different rules for amateur vs. professional. But, for the most part, the rules are pretty standard.



My copilot



The fight opportunity was scheduled to be at The Renaissance Vinoy Hotel in St. Petersburg, Fl (google this hotel). Having never been to St. Pete, I was thrilled to have an all expense paid trip to the beach! The odd part was that, although Chazz is 4-0 in MMA, he is 0-0 in Muay Thai and you normally don't get a title fight for your first time fighting a new style. Before finalizing the contract, the ISKA initially said the fight couldn't happen because Chazz is 0-0. The promoter was eager to have Chazz fight for the title and was able to use his grappling record as "point fighting" and the ISKA agreed to let it happen. Chazz started his training right away and didn't miss a beat. Before we knew it, it was weight cut time, where he dropped from 173-157 in 4 days (makes me sick), and then it was time to head on down! After 7 hours of driving while Chazz slept like a great co-pilot, we arrived and checked in! The problem was that we got there hours earlier than weigh-ins and the hunger/irritability was starting to kick in. Being the amazing fiance that he is, he agreed to take me to the pool. It was a little difficult for him when he could smell the hot wings and fellow sun bathers were ordering pina coladas at the pool bar, but he still participated and even bought me a fancy pool drink.



Mango mojito!



Fast forward a couple hours, we head downstairs to weigh in. Weigh-ins went well, Chazz and his opponent are both on weight and ready for battle the following night. It wasn't until that moment that we determined that the promoter was also the opponent's coach. After weigh ins the 3 of us (Chazz, his manager, and I) went to eat sushi for the post weigh in meal. After talking with each other, that's when we determined why the promoter wanted Chazz. It was simple, Chazz was to be the "sacrificial lamb" to get his guy his first win since junior league. Which also explained why he was willing to manipulate Chazz's record to get the ISKA to agree to the fight. Knowing this, I think it aided in Chazz's drive to want to win.

After packing on some pounds, Saturday/fight night is upon us and we hit the pool until having to go to the fighter meeting at 4:30pm. When we head downstairs, the promoter is running an hour behind schedule. Chazz's manager asks if we can go back to our room and be called when the meeting is about to start. The promoter confirms he has Chazz's cell number and says, "sure I'll text you when we are about to start." The next text was from Chazz to the promoter asking when the meeting was to start since we hadn't heard anything to which the promoter responded, "it's already over." Shocked, Chazz says, "I thought you were going to tell me when it was about to start." No response. When we head back down, we run into the promoter and Chazz's manager is able to say, "you never called us about the meeting. What did we miss? Is it regular rules?" Promoter, "oh yeah, yeah it's regular rules." Manager again, "regular Thai rules, right?" Promoter, "yes, regular rules." Game on. We watch some of the bouts then head to start warming up.

While warming up, I learn that they didn't require blood work or a current vision test. Hm, weird. I also learned that they only had two pair (red/blue) of head gears and shin guards. So basically, each fighter was passing one set to the next fighter. Which is actually pretty disgusting. Maybe why the sport isn't for me. Anyway, Chazz is warmed up and I pray for us and we head into the venue (did I mention I was in the corner?). Chazz and his opponent are both waiting outside of the same double doors to be announced into the ring. Awkward. His opponent is announced first, and then my honey. This is also where we learned that not only was the promoter the guy's coach, but also in his corner (tasteless). Chazz being from GA, fighting in the other guy's hometown, the crowd wasn't thrilled to see him fight. I don't care who you are, that has to affect your subconscious. Most athletes thrive off of the crowd's energy. Fight starts, they are going at it. Chazz is KILLING it in the clinch. His opponent is dropping like a fly. Just about every 10 seconds, he was down again, it seemed. Chazz had a noticeable adrenaline dump that affected his defense a bit, but he was winning, no doubt about it. In between rounds, his manager is cornering him and motivating him and doing all things a corner man should do while I stand there on the steps and look pretty in my fight shirt. And that's because in between one round I stepped up to add some encouraging words and Chazz accidentally spit blood in my face, and into my eye. Knowing that it was unnecessary to bring it to any one's attention, I knew better than to not mention it. But, I did anyway because I'm terrible at hiding emotions/facial expressions and I'm panicking on the inside because THERE'S BLOOD IN MY EYE. Yet, no one seemed to care. Whatever, it was traumatic for me.    

4th round (out of 5), these kids behind us start talking crap about Chazz's fighting. Not one to shy from confrontation, Chazz's manager turns around to yell, "actually it's legal." They were obviously idiots who didn't know anything about Muay Thai. Shortly after, the ISKA rep comes over to our corner to inform us that was Chazz is doing is not legal. The following dialogue:
Manager, "what do you mean it's not legal? It's a Thai fight."
ISKA, "no, it's not. It's Oriental Rules Kickboxing"
Manager, "WTF- the fight was sold to us as a Thai fight and we confirmed with the promoter it was a Thai fight. This is what we've been training for."
ISKA- "No, it's not Thai and it was discussed at the fighter's meeting"

At this point, the bell rings for the end of the 4th round and as Chazz's manager is having choice words with ISKA, Chazz is yelling that he needs a stool and water. Frantic, having never had these responsibilities, I trip getting water, can't get the stool through the ropes and yell for his manager to join, except he doesn't hear. Once he joins Chazz in the corner he briefly informs Chazz that he hasn't been getting any points for the clinch work, and that the scoring is different than we thought. Chazz isn't comprehending this, he's in fight mode! Last round and then the official decision. The announcer tells us that it's a split decision and raises the other guy's hand. Chazz. Is. Devastated. I'm devastated for him. His manager is off somewhere yelling at someone about the whole thing. I don't know what to say, all I know is that I want to get Chazz out of there. So when the doctor asks for Chazz's shinguards and headgear, I tell him that we aren't doing it there, we are going back to our locker room (you aren't going to make MY baby stand there in defeat in front of his opponent's cheering fans)! Once in the locker room, his manager and myself are trying to explain what happened. It wasn't until hours later, once the adrenaline died down, Chazz understood what we were telling him and couldn't believe it. It's always disappointing to have faith in a person that turns out to just have bad intentions. Chazz wasn't defeated. He may not have lost, but by technicalities. It wasn't fair what happened to him. But, as those of us that have ever lost know you can't appreciate winning if you never lose. He's now taking it in stride and ready to get in the cage in a couple weeks. To the shady promoter- you'll get what's coming to you. And we took two of the hotel's beach towels, I hope you have to pay for them.



Worth it for me!



I Can't Feel My Face

Although wedding planning is extremely stressful and overwhelming, there are perks and exciting things that come with it, too. One of those being... taking engagement photos!

I had been looking forward to our engagement shoot for months. We planned to wait until March when the weather started warming up (this was being planned in January). I had my outfits picked out and locations nailed down.

We opted to shoot on Saturday, March 16th. The first location was scheduled to be at Little 5 Points, but, forgetting about St. Patrick's Day that Sunday, Little 5 was not an option. So, we went ahead to Atlantic Station. Atlantic Station was also crazy busy with early St. Patty's celebrations but luckily, the crowds/festivals didn't really affect our shooting and we got some great shots. Making great progress, we decide to stop and grab a bite to eat before heading to our final location, Piedmont Park. In order to catch the perfect lighting and to avoid any more Atlanta traffic, we sat and had Willie's right outside of the park. I should say Chazz and our photographer had Willie's, I drank my dinner, in the form of a margarita (it was worth the calories).



We eat, chat, talk wedding/life stuff and move on to finish our pictures before the sun sets completely. Our photographer has us move to this rock ledge so she can get the sky line behind us. She has us sit (which was little difficult up there in a dress and heels when you haven't been able to wear heels in two months due to a broken foot) on the ledge to get a couple sweet shots of us. As we're sitting there, I'm thinking to myself, "ow, these rocks are really uncomfortable and hurting." I readjust a few times because sitting on rocks in a dress isn't comfortable. Finally, we get to take some pictures standing. As I stand up and straighten my dress, I notice ants on my legs! Trying to avoid a scene (and probably with the help of that margarita) I am calmly brushing the ants off of me. OK, it was actually a little frantic as I panic to get them off. I lift my dress up slightly and ask Chazz if he sees any. His response, "babe, watch your dress out here- stop hiking it up!" to which I responded, with a glare, "Chazz, I have been sitting in ants, I do not care about lifting my dress up!" 



The shot that caused the ant bites







Luckily, we were done at the rock ledge and we could change into our casual outfit (skinny jeans for me). I didn't really feel a lot of bites at that moment, again, I think due to that margarita. We walk down to the dock to take pictures at the lake when I say to Chazz, "I can't feel my top lip." I'm a little worried because I am allergic to bee stings and although I have had reactions in the past, never to ants and no part of my face ever went numb. Chazz kind of brushes it off so I figure I'm being paranoid. We're smiling, kissing, holding hands, ya know, all the stuff you do when you take pictures that portray your love for one another, when my bottom lip went numb. I say to both Chazz and the photographer, "OK, I can't feel my bottom lip now. Should I be worried?" No one makes a big deal about it, I think I'm still being a hypochondriac. Then I feel my inner ear burning, and I feel relief if I scratch it (oh God, I'm Hitch right now! -was what I was thinking). Still, no one notices anything weird about me so I try to ignore it. Then my eyes started feeling itchy, I thought it was those dang false eyelashes until our photographer asks, "Are you OK? Your eyes are really red." Then I feel itchy on my arm. I show Chazz where I'm itching and say, "am I breaking out in hives?" He looks at me and says, "no, you're fine. You have one little bump on your neck, it looks like a bug bite (oh, like an ANT BITE?)."

Trying to stay calm and trust those around me we set up our next shot. I'm smiling although I can't feel my face, lips specifically, and am now unsure about continuing this. Suddenly, Chazz pulls my face toward his and says, "oh babe, I think you're breaking out." Unable to see myself, I already know what's happening. I'm breaking out in hives, only I'm unaware my face is swelling. I take a snapshot of myself to see the damage and PANIC. It's unreal. I'm snapping at Chazz, needing to get out of there ASAP before someone sees me or before I like, die. Chazz thinks it's appropriate to call me Hitch at that point. It wasn't. It was too soon.




In the car at CVS

 Chazz is trying to remain calm in my state of panic, but his calmness is making my panic worse, because he's clearly not taking this serious. We GPS the closest pharmacy and he runs in to find Benadryl and Calamine Lotion while I'm stripping down to my underwear and scratching frantically in the car. We get home, I rush to the shower to make sure the ants and their venom are gone. The shower was terrible, as it had to be cold and the Benadryl  hadn't kicked in. Finally, it kicks in and I go right to sleep (I am extremely sensitive to Benadryl, add that to the list). My face is back to normal in about 24 hours and even with about 40 ant bites per leg, the ER was avoided.

So, the bad news is that, along with bees, I'm allergic and I should probably have an EpiPen on me like my dad used to carry. The good news, our pictures weren't completely ruined and Chazz still loves me literally, at my worst.



I'm a pretty princess



Really?

The reason I haven't had a post in a while is because nothing funny or embarrassing has happened to me. Aside from my life. Let me explain.

 

In my last post I told you all about my wonderful engagement. Well, shortly after that, my trip to Cloud 9 was ended abruptly when I had to take Chazz to the emergency room for lower abdomen pain. That lower abdomen pain was actually appendicitis. Appendicitis= emergency surgery. Emergency surgery = no more engagement cloud 9. Poor guy, he was also feeling really great with his recent win and had even been offered a title fight. The surgery set him back about 6-8 weeks.



Pre-Surgery, poor baby.



Surgery, smergery! Chazz's surgery went great, and me (being the wonderful fiance that I am) spent the night at the hospital with him and even put up with him waking me up around 3am wanting to talk and watch TV (pain meds...). Recovery was a tough pill to swallow at first, no pun intended, because he had to grasp the fact he couldn't do any training, or even work for a week, for that matter. 



Being a good fiance



BUT- my papa bear is a strong one and he was back to normal in no time.

Fast forward a few weeks, we return back to Wild Bills, this time to just watch the fights. We have a few drinks, eat poorly and overall have an awesome time.

We get home, probably around 2:00am (ish) and somehow in the midst of getting ready for bed, I manage to hit the top/side of my foot. I start crying, which isn't uncommon, aware that I could be being a bit melodramatic. When I couldn't put any weight on it that's when Chazz forced me to go to the ER. Lo and behold, it's broken.

I am stuck wearing this "wooden shoe" for another three weeks and honestly, the mental aspect of this whole thing is way worse than the physical. Take away an active person's lifestyle from them, you have a problem. Take away an active person/shoe addict 's lifestyle AND their shoe collection, you have one depressed person. Ah, the things we take for granted...

But seriously, for someone who trains a martial art (Jiu-Jitsu), I break my foot on my bed post??? That's the lamest thing ever. Although I did tell a stranger I broke it in a sky diving accident and that was fun.