Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

A long long time ago, back in the 80’s… (and 70’s), kids ran feral all day until their parents rang a cowbell at dusk from the front porch signaling supper-time. For pee-breaks and snacks, they popped in at whoever’s house was closest. The older kids looked out for the little ones between giving important life […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Lydia - Lookit me with a real name! I don’t even know how that happened. Oh well. I too grew up in the same era. Everyone in our neighborhood would come out to play kick ball or Kick the Can. it was maybe a crew of about 18 or 20 kids all at once because we lived in the projects and everything was situated around a circular sort of driveway parking area. But the rule was you had to be home when the street lights came on.May 5, 2016 – 10:06 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Well look at you fancy weeniebutt with a real name that links to nothing so kinda fake for all that aren’t in Your Inner Circle Of Trust and Love but YAY to real names and lol to not even knowing how it happened. I miss those days and sometimes think our kids are missing out. When Tucker says “I want to go scootering” my first reaction is like groan but then, I’m like OUTSIDE YES, and of course have to look for cars coming in a way that didn’t seem to happen back then. Less people, maybe.May 5, 2016 – 10:16 pmReplyCancel

  • JT Walters - There once was a time when at midnight the television showed the flag, played the anthem and was off for the evening.

    There was always to top 40 music hits on Sunday that I would listen too.

    If kids beat the crap out of each other parents were okay with it. It was considered training for adulthood. So was eating dirt.

    I did know disabled people as a child. They were segregated and I wished that they had been in my class.

    When I was sent to New York for a month I missed my Mom and Dad and was told to grow up. After all I was in the big Apple living in an apartment off central park.

    Once upon a time children could live their dreams and be shown the path to achieving them and not all the barriers that stood in their way.

    Also we always had games at night. Our parents would have dinner with us and if everyone behaved we played games after dinner. Everything from Scrabble to backgammon to Bridge.

    Once upon a time there was an emphasis on family and values and I miss that most of all because people think we are strange because of this emphasis.May 5, 2016 – 10:38 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - We used to play games after dinner too. That was such fun and LOL to eating dirt because so so true!!!May 6, 2016 – 5:31 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - Sometimes, I long for the simpler times. The late 80’s and even the early 90’s seemed so much more carefree! I remember us riding our bikes EVERYWHERE and the streetlights were our curfew enforcers!May 5, 2016 – 10:55 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - They did seem more carefree Echo and I have to wonder why…. too much technology? I don’t know. When it’s not raining, I try to take my son out on his scooter every day so he knows what it’s like to play outside until dinnertime (he’s not so good on a bike yet). xoMay 6, 2016 – 5:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Ahhh…I LOVE the nostalgia of this post! And of course your picture at the end made me laugh out loud!May 5, 2016 – 11:08 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - We did, didn’t we?
    I wonder if our parents were worried or excited. I wonder if they thought about Donald Trump starting a world war, and Lyme Disease killing moose, and global warming get worse and worse.
    Or maybe one day we realize – to the kids – it’s playing and rainbow sprinkles and pancakes.
    Sorry, I’m cranky today – not sure where that went!May 6, 2016 – 11:17 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I think our parents were worried. About everything. Russia, Lyme Disease… but when you’re a kid, you’re right – it’s playing and rainbow sprinkles and pancakes.May 6, 2016 – 6:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Christine - I could NOT love this more… oh my GOSH THIS IS THE BEST POST EVER!!

    You brought me back, girl. Just such a brilliant piece with those vivid descriptions- written in your own unique way. Ah…

    You are SUCH a gift.May 6, 2016 – 12:03 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw thank you Chris! I love that it brought you back (me too!). And you. You are a gift. A huge amazing gorgeous one.May 6, 2016 – 6:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Jena - You had me at feral and cowbell, waaaaaaaaaaay back in the 80s. I loved this.May 6, 2016 – 1:18 pmReplyCancel

  • yvonne - You do have such a lovely way of writing Kristi – lyrical as well as fun.
    I grew up even earlier than you, and way in the back of beyond and we had only one television channel and only black and white! I smiled at: ” “Five channels and PBS,” we said? “But what more can there be to watch?”” We thought that when we had 4 channels, and I’m sure my mum even said it about one!

    One funny thing – you didn’t get phonecalls after 6, but that’s when we got most calls, because in the UK, it was much cheaper then than during the day.May 7, 2016 – 6:25 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Yvonne! That means so much to me coming from you! 😀
      What a huge difference our few channels were compared to live streaming on Netflix today of just about anything in the world you want to watch. It makes me nostalgic for the old days to think about having to get up to change the channel and what a family activity that watching TV was.May 7, 2016 – 7:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I just wrote a post last night about things my kids’ generation will never know, and it echoes many things you touch on. Our heads are in the same place! Some things they won’t know make me sad, but there are so many good things now that didn’t exist then. Medical advances. Human rights advances. We still have work to do, I hope we will get there.May 8, 2016 – 8:46 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Here’s to great minds (or like minds anyway). You’re right – the medical advances and human rights have come a long long way…May 8, 2016 – 7:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Cynthia - I was riveted as I read. I think about where we are now: kids don’t really play outside anymore; they hardly get recess at school.
    When I was a kid and fell off my bike, I had to figure out how to doctor myself. I didn’t even usually tell my parents for fear they’d scold me for not being careful. lol.
    What a wonderful nostalgic post. I hope you’re well!May 8, 2016 – 10:45 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - That’s funny that you didn’t tell your parents when you got hurt! Even scrapes back then were less of a big deal. Thanks so much for your kind words – I’m doing pretty well and love seeing you here. Hope everything’s going really great for you!May 8, 2016 – 8:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - Oh Kristi! What a perfect post. Makes me long for the “good ole days.” Btw, I know have a phone, with a super long cord, tethered to my kitchen wall. It is way cool!!!!!!!!!!!!!!May 9, 2016 – 9:32 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You for real have a phone on your wall with a long cord? ? Does it work? I long for them, too…May 9, 2016 – 10:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Oh I loved going back in time with your for this post. I remember everything (except for the scrubbing and snow references). There are Land of the Lost videos on Youtube and they are hilarious!!! But yep I’d be up all by myself on Saturday morning. Mom had poured milk for me in a Tupperware cup that had a lid and left the cereal and a bowl out on the kitchen table. I know I had to be really little because my brother wasn’t born yet and we are seven years apart. I mostly bought 45’s and of course there was only the one song that was good. The B side never had a song that was played on the radio. I’m recalling a 45 by Lakeside that I think I liked both songs. My record player could stack several 45s to play back to back so that was pretty cool. There is no fun in going for music on iTunes like it was to go to the music store which was also a family affair. Those were truly the good ole days. It’s so crazy to think about leaving my phone at home to enjoy the freedom of being out without it. And then I thought, “But I’d have so much to catch up on when I got home.” Wow huh!?May 10, 2016 – 8:36 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - No scrubbing in NC? I think that’s a good thing and I sure hope it no longer exists today. It felt fun then but looking at it now, it also felt scary and weird and today would be probably bullying-ish???
      Aw to little you with your bowl and your mom pouring the milk for you before-hand (DING DING that could work here). OOOOH the 45’s. DId you have those little yellow things to hold them steady? I wish I’d have saved more of my old albums. I have some but… And yeah, wow, to the catching up and leaving phone at home… ditto. Also phone is how I survived baseball practice tonight. Or, not. Maybe I’d have liked it more???May 12, 2016 – 8:03 pmReplyCancel

      • Kenya G. Johnson - I do remember those yellow things but I don’t think I knew that is what they were for. LOL!

        I ended up staying at basketball camp for almost the whole time on Wednesday because I left my purse at home. Ugh – that goodness for my phone. THAT I would have gone back for.

        As for the sort of getting breakfast ready for the next day, I can’t tell you how many times I did that and Christopher wasn’t hungry until I got up. It did make him stay in his room though because there was nothing else to need from me but he didn’t want to “make” his own breakfast.May 13, 2016 – 1:34 pmReplyCancel

  • Sara - Great memories! Great post! ….Was reminded the other day of how we used to use jelly jars as glasses. Do you remember doing that? Hadn’t thought of that in years. Now it seems so quaint and faraway. …Last weekend I started the enormous task of going through Dad’s LPs b/c I want to sell them. Wow was THAT a stroll down Memory Lane…
    Huge hugs!May 13, 2016 – 2:18 amReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - Out One Ear - We did have everything. It was like living in Mayberry. And when the teenage boy told my teenage self that we were going to the lake to watch the submarine races, it took me a long time to figure that one out too. 🙂 You remember so much good stuff.May 18, 2016 – 7:25 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Living in Mayberry. THAT. I wish I could trust this town like that one and I still don’t know what the submarine race thing is… is it something else??May 19, 2016 – 10:47 pmReplyCancel

“Oh, so…you’re talking about one of your blog friends then?” Blog, drawn out to sound more like “blaaagh.” “Well, yeah, but I know her really well,” I said. “We’re for-real friends.” I refrain from saying that we’ve been through a lot together because we’ve never been through anything together in person, and I don’t want […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Nicki - Me too.
    <3April 28, 2016 – 10:20 pmReplyCancel

  • It Walters - I think it is an artist thing not limited to writers. I think artists are in so much pain and art is the way they let it out.

    All of us reveal more than we would like.April 28, 2016 – 10:30 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Maybe you’re right JT. Although I hate to think all artists are in pain…April 29, 2016 – 8:58 pmReplyCancel

      • JT Walters - I think there can not be growth without pain? I could be wrong but I think we learn more from failure than success. Pain teaches us but the artist understands this and channels it through their art making them better able to endure more pain hence growing even more?

        I could be totally wrong. Creating Art is comforting unless you are under a dead line or are forced to do it.

        I know painting changed the way I saw the world and helped me endure and cope through my Mother’s end stage cancer when I couldn’t speak. Art is how one heals from pain, IMO!April 29, 2016 – 10:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - For me, the “me too” experience is what fueled my initial blogging efforts and brought me into a world-wide family of “my people” that I never new or dreamed existed when I once felt so very isolated and alone. I can be anywhere, sitting in a closet, on a lake shore, or in my pajamas in front of the TV, and still I can share my thoughts and feelings and a bit about life where I’m at inside and out, and inevitably someone will show up to say “me to”. Those who don’t blog will never truly understand how we could say bloggers are our “real” friends, but oh yes, my dear, they are far more real than those I encounter every day might ever be, because with them I can truly be all me.April 28, 2016 – 10:51 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Oh wow, I’m so glad that you found your “me too” people when you once felt isolated and alone… So much. And yes, we are so real, because it’s not like talking about the weather when we are wondering whether we’re going through menopause or something!! That stuff can only be shared in writing. Or, on a wine night with friends which is harder to organize for sure.April 29, 2016 – 9:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - It is such a funny phenomena, bogging friendships. I was explaining to Rich how I switchef our hotel, so it would be (hopefully) easier for you to come visit. And he’s was all, have you even met this person before? Yes, dear;). Non-bloggers just don’t get it, we are a special tribe.April 29, 2016 – 9:41 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - OMG YOU Switched your hotel? I’d come to you anyway you know, but yeah, I get that… love the “yes dear.” 🙂 My husband doesn’t even ask any longer!April 29, 2016 – 10:30 pmReplyCancel

  • Sandra - Well my youngest is almost 13 (GAH! )so I’m well past the playground years, but I’m definitely a “me too”….and I smile, chuckle, lol, and nod. And where can I get some cheddar bunnies?April 29, 2016 – 11:45 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Dude, Cheddar Bunnies are the bomb. They’re like the organic version (and better tasting more cheddar) of goldfish? Whole Foods or Harris Teeter. Do you have those???April 29, 2016 – 11:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - haha, I got caught up looking at my own thumbnail. I was like, “Oooh, pretty picture. Who took it?”
    Um.. yeah. Me.
    Moving on, that was my oversharing for you. I impressed myself for once.
    You nailed this, though. Blogging friendships fascinate the heck out of me.April 29, 2016 – 1:45 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL to you staring at a pic of your nail? Did I get that right? LOL and you impress me all the time, which is another part of blogging – that we can say that when it would be hard in person. Thanks, you.April 29, 2016 – 11:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Dang I wanted to say “you nailed it” but I see Tamara just said that. It’s also amazing how we all can be so different and relate so well.

    The beginning of this post made me laugh. Each time a person questions your relationship with a blogger it’s like you shrink a little inside. They don’t get it yet we are the ones that have to defend it.

    And please by all means get drawing! They are fun and funny, not stupid at all.April 29, 2016 – 2:25 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Kenya, and yeah, I want to get back to the drawing, so much, and had one for this maybe but time… and life, and the why, but yes. And thank you HUGE for saying I nailed it. I deleted 1,000 words before publishing and the thing about being the host is that I have to at 10pm, which I think I need, really. If that makes sense.April 29, 2016 – 11:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Jack - Writers overshare and undershare. It’s how we’re wired. We write about the innermost and the scariest most. We have to write it, to process it. We want to get it out.

    That is perfection.April 29, 2016 – 4:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - So often I read and think, “Me too!” Sometimes I read and think, “I didn’t know it was like that for her.” And because of sharing online, now I do. I know so much more about the world and the unique people in it, because of bloggers who share.April 29, 2016 – 6:37 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I think the “I didn’t know it was like that for her” is almost better or as much so as “me too,” because yeah, writers know so much more about each other than is possible on a playground, or at a school function…April 29, 2016 – 11:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I’ve taken several online memoir-writing workshops and the teacher pointed out that the online format works well, especially for people writing memoirs, who are often sharing very personal, soul-baring stories. Without the face-to-face intimidation of an in-person writing class, the online class seems to allow and even encourage more honesty and openness. And through that class, I came to know several writers via their stories and many of us are still in touch online, long after our class ended…So, I think blogging offers a similar advantage and helps you create your own community. I think I didn’t really add new thoughts to anything you just wrote about, but I guess I just wanted to say, “yes, I get it!”April 30, 2016 – 9:40 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You know, that makes sense actually about being more anonymous. Because it’s definitely true that I can type things in my little office that I’d NEVER be able to say on a playground (unless I was drinking or something). YAY for getting it. Yay for knowing you.April 30, 2016 – 7:54 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - The bloggers/writers I gravitate towards are those who
    are honest & authentic & raw.

    I don’t know if they overshare,
    but if they are writing something I identify with, I typically love them.

    I’m like, “YEAH, I get it! I’m not crazy after all!”

    I like that.

    xxxMay 1, 2016 – 6:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Sigh. Writing is so much better than playground paydays – most of the time, anyway.May 2, 2016 – 8:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Rabia @TheLiebers - I’ve found so much camaraderie online. My husband’s work doesn’t allow much time for me to go out and do friend things. I’ve gotten used to working around his non-traditional schedule and thankfully found a few local friends in the same boat, but online is where I can really find like-minded people. Those to whom I can say, “Your kid does that too?”May 3, 2016 – 1:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - I love the “your kid does that too!” moments because wow, sometimes its just plain old isolating. And I’m glad you’ve got such an amazing community online and that you’re part of mine!!May 5, 2016 – 6:41 pmReplyCancel

I ask myself for forgiveness for the night that I wanted to give my life to somebody else. I talk to stars and to God and to innermost me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” I say. *** On the night I sat on my bathroom floor hoping to gift a dying mother with my […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Allie - Oh momma, this was soul crushing. It’s one of my biggest fears too and I just cannot even go there. And the other stuff about the job – damn. I don’t even know what to say!April 21, 2016 – 10:05 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - UGH I can barely go there either and yet look at me – going there. WHY??? UGH!!! xoxo xApril 22, 2016 – 8:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - This was a “wow” post for many reasons, but most of all so very brave to share these thoughts with us. I know all parents have that fear of leaving their kids too soon, but, you and I know that some parents have that fear magnified because our worry of how they will carry on without us is more intense. But, I think part of it is caused by the fact that we’ve been worrying about them for a long time already and it’s hard to let that worry muscle relax…I’m trying though!April 21, 2016 – 10:26 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Emily and yeah, I think our fear is magnified. I mean I look at what some of the reactions have been to Tucker’s delays (even from family) and think OMG he NEEDS me. The worry muscle relaxes? I am SO happy to read that.April 22, 2016 – 8:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I wrote so much about tornados and lions, but the real one would be dying early and leaving two children. Which in a way, is the only life I know – as one of those left children from a young parent.
    That said, I think we’re all going to live forever and meet at beach houses along the way.April 21, 2016 – 10:42 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I loved your tornados and lions and pics and yeah, I know you get it first-hand and yes please let’s all live forever and meet at beach houses!April 22, 2016 – 8:15 pmReplyCancel

  • JT Walters - I think you hit the nail right on the head. We all fear not being able to be here for our children. We also fear their love changes for us…teenagers especially.

    But most of all, as a parent with a child with two rare disease, I fear out surviving my son. Burying a child, especially your own, is the most unnatural horrific thing any human being can live through. I’d gladly pass before my son as long as I knew he had a good life.

    I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love my son.April 22, 2016 – 12:41 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I know what you mean JT. I never knew I could love anybody as much as I love my son too and cannot imagine burying a child. EVER. SOB.April 22, 2016 – 8:16 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Wow! That was powerful, Kristi! I think that is one of the biggest fears of most parents – leaving our children too soon. (And one of our children dying too soon – Can’t even imagine!). There are days when I get overwhelmed and think I don’t want this “mom life” anymore – no suicidal, just wishing for something different. Then, I go away for a couple days, and feel so awful for all the little things I missed. I don’t want to miss any of it. Or all of it. Ever.April 22, 2016 – 8:56 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Lisa. I feel like I should stop writing about it but I guess it’s been on my mind a lot recently and omg one of our children?? I don’t think for real that I could even (not going to finish this sentence). I know what you mean about wanting something different and then missing the little things so so much. xooApril 22, 2016 – 8:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Debi - This is so touching, Kristin. I’m glad your deal with the universe that night fell through.April 22, 2016 – 9:12 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I have this fear too. We don’t live close to family and even if we did, Christopher is the “only” everywhere. His first cousins are a decade older, and second cousins a decade younger. My wish is for him to marry into a big family who all lives in the same town and they have lots of kids so he will never be lonely. Before and after my first miscarriage I told God never mind. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be for me after all. I am so glad he didn’t listen to me. It’s going to workout. That’s all we can hope for.April 22, 2016 – 9:29 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - We don’t live close to family either 🙁 and OMG just all of the thoughts. Anyway, I’m so glad that God didn’t listen to either one of us.April 22, 2016 – 10:35 pmReplyCancel

  • A.J. Goode - I had my last baby later in life, too, and I worry about not being here for him, so I understand exactly what you mean. I was 42 when he was born, and it scares the heck out of me to realize that I’ll be 60 when he graduates from high school! I just hope I’m still here to embarrass him by being the oldest mommy there . . .April 22, 2016 – 9:42 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL AJ. And yeah, my husband is five years older than I am and we both worry so much about being here for our little boy, and even if we are, how old we’ll be! YIKES!April 22, 2016 – 10:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Frances - WOW! This has been the most profound piece I’ve read in a long while. I’m glad you shared this with us. It definitely gives me the inspiration to take more risks with my writing.

    FrancesApril 23, 2016 – 10:12 amReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - You name a fear I’m sure many mothers have. I was about to say especially those of us who had kids late. (I’m one too.) But I my sister was still in her 20s when she had her first daughter and she had the same fear. And then, yes the fear JT Walters expresses is one I’ve had often too, particularly when my second daughter was young and so fragile.

    Also, I really like the literary feel to this – I love your imagery of the moon.April 23, 2016 – 2:36 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Maybe it’s a universal parent fear although I suspect that it’s worse for mothers than for fathers. My husband has a more “well what can I do anyway?” attitude about it whereas I actually lie awake worrying about it, which of course doesn’t help. Thank you for your sweet words and I’m glad you liked the moon imagery. You’re the only one to have commented about that part and I really liked it too.April 23, 2016 – 7:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - Even the title is crushing, Kristi – such a huge fear that it rarely is spoken aloud. And I get it about the control – how can something so big be out of our control? So many things are. As always, a piece so many of us can relate to, even if our personal circumstances are different.

    Your writing has a way of uniting all of us, my friend.April 23, 2016 – 4:33 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw Dana, yes, such a huge fear…Hate the lack of control and thank you again.April 23, 2016 – 9:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - Our children are indeed our reason for living and for wanting to live. There was a time in my life that the only think keeping me alive was that knowledge that I wanted to be there for my children, to raise them, and to make sure they were able to navigate through life on their own, God willing. I couldn’t just leave them to a man that I knew wasn’t up to the task. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be here now, and I am ever so glad that I am. God willing, you will also remain in your son’s life for as long as he needs you, until his is ready and able for a chapter of his own. Another honest and inspiring post, I loved it!
    Josie
    from Josie’s JournalApril 23, 2016 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Josie! I so very hope that I’ll be here for a long long time for him! And that each of us are!April 24, 2016 – 12:06 pmReplyCancel

  • Michelle Grewe - I am so ready for death in many ways that I often feel like I’m just waiting for it, but at the same time, I don’t want to leave my children too early. Where would they go? And worse. Everyone who would take my children at my death are authoritative parents and won’t be too forgiving of the special needs in this family. It’s so weird because I want my children to listen to me and be quiet sometimes, and do as I say, but the idea that they don’t, that they are determined to get what they want, that they don’t take no for an answer, that gives me peace in the case they have someone else raising them. But I find myself praying to God, “I know you can feel my heart is ready to join you, but don’t listen to it. I need more time here.” I wish I could say something to make this fear easier to cope with as it does consume us sometimes in our quest for perfect parenting, but I don’t know what to say to it. I lost my father when I was 20, and I was too young for it then. I wasn’t ready. All I can do with my kids is think of all the things I needed to hear my father say to me, and say those things as much as possible. “I’m so proud of you,” that’s a big one. So reading what you said about the scooter, I can vouch you are doing it so right.April 24, 2016 – 7:35 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw thanks, Michelle, for your comment about the scooter. I know none of us always get it right but saying “I’m so proud of you” is huge and will hopefully be what they remember. I know what you mean about wanting your children to listen to you but also being proud of them when they don’t because of the reassurance they’re their own people making decisions. Here’s to us having more time here.April 24, 2016 – 12:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Astrid - I cannot relate to having a specal needs child, but I can relate to sometimes wishing my life away and at other times fearing death. Please remember that despair does strange things to our minds, sch as letting it think death is the better option.April 24, 2016 – 2:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Rabia @TheLiebers - So poignant, Kristi. My kids are typically developing and I worry about the same things. I’ve told them over and over again that they have to take care of each other someday. When my husband and I are gone, they’ll hopefully still have each other. I hope that day is a long way away!April 25, 2016 – 12:34 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Rabia! Maybe all of us worry about it – I actually wish my son had a sibling for the reason you mention. I’m close with my brothers but don’t see them often as we’re all in different states.April 25, 2016 – 5:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Beautiful Kristi. I love the moon and I don’t quite know why. I’ve never seen the stars, but the moon I’ve been able to see, and I guess I consider myself lucky. I guess I am in awe how it’s the same moon looking Down on all of us and the lives we’re living separately but as one.April 29, 2016 – 9:52 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Kerry! I’m glad that you’ve been able to see the moon. It really is something to think about how the same one looks down on us all – I like how you put that we’re living separately but as one.April 30, 2016 – 4:53 pmReplyCancel

“If I only had more time,” I say to my keyboard. The clock whispers “You do have more time.” I look at it, see the big hand and the little hand. They read 3:36, and have for more than a year. I haven’t replaced the batteries. “It’s you that has no time,” I said. “I […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Kelly L McKenzie - There were crystals inside! How very cool. Good on ya, Mom. It’s so hard when there seems like time is precious and never enough and then they want to play mining. Or some other game that you DON’T want to play but know you should. And will. Thank you for giving me a dinner idea, btw. Just off the phone with my daughter who ate three hours ago and was shocked that I’d no dinner plan. Now I can text her it’s eggs.April 14, 2016 – 10:15 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL to your daughter being shocked that you had no dinner plan and you getting one from me! Eggs are easy and so yummy!! And yeah, there’s always a game I’m not excited about playing but I usually feel good after giving in 🙂April 15, 2016 – 4:54 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Awww that was sweet. You both survived a night of spelling and were awarded crystals and a story to tell. I bet you didn’t see that coming!April 14, 2016 – 10:19 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I didn’t see it coming at all but you’re right – it really was a sweet night.April 15, 2016 – 5:28 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - Did he know there were going to be crystals? I mean, that is pretty damn cool. Oh Kristi, I want more time more than I want more money and a smaller waist. I swear! Lately I keep listening to Bonnie Rait’s song, “Nick of Time.” I’ve already loved it, but now, man, it his home. “Scared to run out of time…”April 14, 2016 – 10:23 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m SO scared to run out of time Allie! So much more than I want more money or a smaller waist (and your waist is tiny so shuddup) or less wrinkles…April 15, 2016 – 5:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I love eggs for dinner! And I love your last line – it’s perfect.April 15, 2016 – 8:33 amReplyCancel

  • Katy - What a sweet “time” you had with your boy. 🙂April 15, 2016 – 8:53 amReplyCancel

  • Jamie Miles - Oh Kristi– you and I had the same wish. More time. Or did we? I love your peaceful resolve to not let the business and busyness of life pull your heart and mind away from sharing moments — totally engaged with your son. You are my hero.April 15, 2016 – 9:08 amReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I love eggs for dinner. And it’s weird how sometimes I really do feel like I Have all the time in the world. Like today, with a sick(ish) Des at home and the seconds ticking by almost loudly audibly.
    Other times, it’s all a cruel flash.April 15, 2016 – 11:00 amReplyCancel

  • Rabia @TheLiebers - I love how time stands still when you really need it too. I’m glad you were able to spend that extra time with him and smash rocks together. That’s the stuff he’ll remember. Not the scars.April 15, 2016 – 11:29 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Rabia, and you’re right. I really hope he remembers that stuff especially on days like today when he’s in the bathroom with the iPad…April 15, 2016 – 5:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - Great post Kristi! Beautiful. And we’re having eggs for dinner because I’ve been busy writing!
    I can also relate to missing “littler him.” I did that with my girls for a long time. Oddly, now they are young adults, it doesn’t seem to happen so often.
    I won’t be joining in this weekend, because -um – I haven’t had time! 🙂 (I’m off to family funeral) Maybe next week.April 15, 2016 – 12:27 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks so very much Yvonne! Yay to eggs for dinner and to writing! I’m sorry to read that you’re off to a family funeral 🙁 and join when you have time!April 15, 2016 – 5:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Beautiful!!! Just beautiful!!April 15, 2016 – 12:48 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - Oh, I miss my little kids too, but you are wise to live in the moment, even if that means eggs for dinner.

    I hear the clock so loudly lately – it feels like a bomb. I need to disable it and give myself time.April 15, 2016 – 3:39 pmReplyCancel

  • K - I love your way with words, Kristi! xo I smiled when you said “So tell me what you’re thinking.” I love that you didn’t dismiss him, that you took the time to really listen to what he wanted and you found a way to make it work. Thinking back on my own childhood, the little things my mom did for me (like ice cream cones for no reason at all because “why does there have to be a reason for ice cream,” and letting me paint her nails even though she knew I’d get more nail polish on the table than on her nails… :)) – those are what mattered the most. You’re a fantastic mom.April 15, 2016 – 9:01 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - K!!! How are you, girl??? Ice cream cones for no reason are huge, as is laughing for no reason and yeah, that’s the stuff that matters. Been thinking about you as your year at school comes to an end… Sending so much love!April 16, 2016 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Bev - I sadly often find myself rushing through life with my daughter. It’s a good reminder that we need to slow down more and I need to appreciate these moments while we can. And I know when she’s older I’ll miss aspects of the Littler version of her as well. As a wiggly toddler, I miss infant Eve that would fall asleep on my belly. Though toddler Eve is honestly more fun!April 16, 2016 – 6:43 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Bev, I think that one of the biggest challenges is getting through the minutes so I get that so much. But the minutes that get us??? Those, we have to find a way to hang onto.April 16, 2016 – 11:58 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - I’m in love
    with your words & heart <3
    Seriously.
    You are like a small prayer. xApril 19, 2016 – 5:30 pmReplyCancel

I sat at our kitchen table, helping my first-grader prepare for tomorrow’s spelling test. “Come on, Buddy, just a few more words,” I said as he put on a voice-changing mask. “It might help me be smarter,” he said.  I opened my arms, gave him a hug, and considered letting him skip school tomorrow. I […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Dana - I miss your drawings! I know you still do them sometimes, but this was a treat to have so many in one post. I’m not sure if I read your original post, but even if I did it was so long ago.

    Whether or not I keep writing, or you keep writing or blogging, I will always be thankful that blogging introduced me to you. Your voice is amazing, strong, and important. xoxoApril 7, 2016 – 10:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You know what? Posting these drawings last night made me miss them too. I think I’ll start doing more of them again. I’m SO glad that blogging introduced me to YOU Dana. So very. And aww, shucks. Thank you!April 8, 2016 – 3:09 pmReplyCancel

  • clark - love it

    (“I blog therefore I am“*)

    I can say, similar to what I read in what you write, which is, I suspect, in part, how you are (about this), that my starting a blog is one of the all time significant things/acts/consequences in my life… serially!

    Speaking only for myself, I cannot think of any other stage/phase/transition in my life where there has been such a bounty of good people** in such a short time. I mean, if you count growing and going to school as one event, that was spread out over 12 or 16 years and the circle of friends did not change all that much.

    Speaking only for myself, I would not have come here (the virtual world, in general, the blogosphere, in particular) had I not made the decision to write a blog.

    for me, the proof that my venturing into this strange (and cool) place has been a good thing is that, no matter what my original reason, not matter how much my circumstances may have (surely have) changed, I’m still here and so are you and the others whose thoughts and perspectives on life and the world and such, I so value.

    * please don’t be old/tired/the-second-thing-the-first-bloggers-wrote-on-green-and-white-computer-monitors-in-the-1990s…!
    **being defined as the people who I count among my online friends and suchApril 7, 2016 – 11:10 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Awesome concept that the school years pretty much had the same scenery of friends around where as the blogosphere? So cool. YES. I know what you mean too about not coming to the virtual world were you not writing a blog yourself – I never read blogs (or knew how many there are) before starting this place.

      LOL to the green and white computer monitors.April 8, 2016 – 3:16 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb - I laughed! Then I sighed. You are wonderful. I miss writing so much. More so these days for some reason but I barely have time to breathe. Maybe some day again. I’d love to tell stories again about my baby girl and my big boy so they know this phase too. That’s why I write I think. For them.April 8, 2016 – 12:32 amReplyCancel

  • Sandra - I am so glad that you write…and draw cute little cartoon characters who drink wine and say ‘shit’ a lot. This was hilarious, and I do believe that hard work pays off, and one day, something extraordinary is going to happen related to your writing (I realize Tucker is extraordinary, I’m talking about the stuff that’ll bring in cash and objects of great value!) I’d love to hear about the crazy-ass Internet troll…Okay, maybe I wouldn’t since I worry about everything all the time already. I’m just glad you’re writing. Did I already mention it? Well, it’s because it’s true.April 8, 2016 – 2:36 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - From your lips, my friend. From your lips! And yeah, the stupid internet trolls got me for a little bit but I’m over them and over it and the piece they hated is buried and anonymous now thank goodness. And aw thank you. I’m glad you’re writing, too. xooxApril 8, 2016 – 3:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - I love that post! My start was different, but some of the same feelings. I once thought writing (blogging) would/could make me famous, too. It didn’t. It hasn’t. It probably never will. It has given me something better, though. It has given me beautiful friends and helped me tap into a part of myself that I hadn’t fully discovered before. That’s why I write and why I keep coming back to my blog even when the words aren’t coming to me.

    Maybe I should put all that into a post and link up, huh??? 😜April 8, 2016 – 9:07 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yes Lisa! Put that into a post and link up! I’d love for you to! And yeah, the whole famous thing… oh well. But you’re so right – the friends and the tapping into ourselves really is better than fame and money. It really is.April 8, 2016 – 3:31 pmReplyCancel

  • A.J. Goode - Kristi, I just love your blog. You always seem to say what I’m thinking, only better. Thank you for sharing your world with us, and for Finish the Sentence Friday.April 8, 2016 – 9:58 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aww thank you AJ. That means so much to me although I disagree that I say it better than you do. I love your writing and your blog! Thank YOU!!April 8, 2016 – 3:32 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - —–Kristi,
    you continually have a way to dig inside my heart, which doesn’t happen often…
    but when it does, I feel like screaming, “I LooooOVE YOU!”
    Your VOICE matters…
    For Tucker.
    And for all of us.
    As for the trolls: They can kiss my A*s !! xxx
    O, Ps–somebody the other day said, “I just have a little blog. I’m not trying to change the world.” I said, “I Am!!”April 8, 2016 – 10:14 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - KIM! I LooooooOVE YOU TOO! Your voice matters. All of our voices matter. And yeah the trolls can kiss my Ass too. Here’s to us changing the world!April 8, 2016 – 3:33 pmReplyCancel

  • April - I’m glad that I have chosen to write. I have met so many wonderful people, learned so many things and written SO much. LOL about the name. My goodness, even though my blog name IS my name, I still wonder if I should change it. Too much of my mind is consumed about the proper name! I never thought that it would make me famous, even though I do now, I thought it would generate a better income sooner.April 8, 2016 – 10:15 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL to too much of your mind being consumed about the proper name for your blog. I didn’t think about it all and now wish I would have. And yeah, the income part of it’s hard…April 8, 2016 – 3:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I remember this post the first time…laughed so hard then and laughed again so hard now. For me, I know WHY I write (because like you said, I have to), but I still can’t figure out why sometimes I go through periods where I just don’t or can’t write. It’s not writer’s block, but it’s more like apathy or laziness. I’ve been that way with my blog lately, although I’ve been writing lots of essays on the side. I’m just not putting them on my blog..yet.April 8, 2016 – 10:37 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - hee hee thanks Emily! I’m glad it made you laugh the second time around too. 😀 I think all of us go through periods of time when we don’t feel like writing. It’s part of why I’ve kept Finish the Sentence. I have to write at least once a week. I like that it forces me too. That’s cool you’ve been writing a lot of essays! Post something so I can read it (because it’s about me). 😀April 8, 2016 – 3:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I enjoyed this post even more so than the first time around. I tickled me as a writer and knowing how long we’ve been on this blogging journey together. I’ve never been super serious about quitting but when I do get in a funky mood about why I’m doing this, I think of all you guys. And FTSF has made me write most of my best posts. Deadlines don’t motivate me though, they throw me into writers block.April 8, 2016 – 11:00 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Kenya, you did? That’s so cool, thanks! I changed it a little and combined part one and two of the originals but I love that you still enjoyed it! And yeah, the years go by fast, don’t they? When I wondered whether I should just quit, I thought about all of you guys too and just couldn’t.April 8, 2016 – 3:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - That’s like how writing is for me. Or blogging, rather. It’s like all of my dreams rolled into one – wanting to write creative non-fiction, wanting to be my own boss, wanting to publish my own memoir. Boom.
    Without this? Wah. I’d die a little.April 8, 2016 – 4:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - I love hearing about how you started writing! When I first started my blog, it was called “Echo Can Cook” and it was terrible, LOL! I realized that I had more to say and I needed to branch out. I feel like I got into the best blogging community and I have learned faster than most! We ride the lightning, my friend and we carpe diem, baby!April 8, 2016 – 11:13 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL thanks Echo! I’ll bet Echo Can Cook wasn’t nearly as terrible as you think but I’m glad that you blog the way you do now and that I get to be one of your friends through writing. Carpe Diem and boo yah to riding the lightning!April 9, 2016 – 5:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Allison Barrett Carter - I love you. This is perfect and please don’t ever stop. ❤️April 9, 2016 – 8:03 amReplyCancel

  • Kerry - That is sweet Kristi. You wrote because you wanted to be the voice, when your son couldn’t quite find his.
    🙂
    Glad you’ve kept going writing. I love all these varied answers for why people write, what they feel and think about their writing.April 9, 2016 – 10:16 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Kerry! And yeah, I’m really enjoying everyone’s answers to the sentence too!April 9, 2016 – 5:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - Out One Ear - Yes! Yes! Yes. I so relate. So relate to this piece. I often feel like you are my twin sister. Hugs to you.April 9, 2016 – 1:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - My new favorite Kristi post, hands down. Damn, we’ve had almost the exact journey! Novel, memoir (I misspell it, too), blog. The drawings are precious, and so are you! Thanks for laugh, and the encouragement!April 9, 2016 – 1:24 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL Thank you Allie! Had to laugh that you spell memoir wrong too – it’s a weird word!April 9, 2016 – 5:42 pmReplyCancel

  • Angel the Alien - I love your pictures! I would totally read your memoir. You could always self-publish it. You could be like, “We don’t need no stinking publishers!”April 10, 2016 – 2:48 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Angel, thank you!!! I’d so read your memoir too and love “We don’t need no stinking publishers!!” 🙂April 10, 2016 – 11:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Corinne Rodrigues - I love those drawings, Kristi and every one of your reasons for writing. I know that you have made the blogging world a lot richer with your words and your ability to build community.April 10, 2016 – 9:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - I’m glad you write for all the reasons that you do. And I’m very glad to have found you as a result. This is great – first or second time around. Community is definitely the thing that keeps me here in this world of blogs and facebooks and twitters and stuff. It’s the people, for sure.April 10, 2016 – 11:01 pmReplyCancel

  • Vasantha - Great to participate in the libk up even tough it was closed. After all this is the pleasure why I write …. And here’s my link for you ……. https://vivekvasantha.wordpress.com/2016/04/11/to-give-myself-strength-mondaymusings/

    Thanks for the prompt.April 11, 2016 – 3:01 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Vasantha, I’ve added your link to the link-up and am so glad you participated!April 11, 2016 – 6:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - Kristi, as others have said, I love your drawings. I also love the way your story unfolds through them. You’re saying something similar to what I did, though with a lot more laughs!

    I love “This shit is awesome” followed by, “God, I’m dumb. Stupid book.” It’s so universal for writers to feel that way, and yet when you’re going through it, it feels as if you are the only one!
    And your reasons for starting to blog is awesome – as of course are the reasons you carry on!April 11, 2016 – 4:38 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yvonne, it’s so very true about going from thinking we’re awesome to awful in the matter of minutes. It is so universal but you’re right – it feels as if you’re alone when you feel that way for sure. So glad you wrote and linked up!April 11, 2016 – 7:05 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I’m so thankful that you write because that’s how I now know at least one family personally who have been changed for the better because of your encouraging words! And, I love that you spend so much time and effort in making the world a better place! <3April 12, 2016 – 4:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - OH how I have missed you.
    I loved this post and your drawings. I love that you are giving such a BIG HUGE voice to an already BIG HUGE SPECTACULAR CHILD and in turn you are bringing comfort to a community…and you are educating people like me who don’t understand what you — as a parent go through, who don’t understand what Tucker goes through. You help me educate my son too.
    Don’t ever stop writing babe. People are reading and absorbing your words and maybe they don’t comment all the time but they are reading.
    You’re phenomenal and one hell of a Van Gogh
    xooxApril 14, 2016 – 1:26 pmReplyCancel

This morning, I looked into the mirror, sighed, and wondered why my recent haircut hasn’t held its shape for as long as the last one did. I traded shorts for yoga pants, brushed my teeth and applied lotion hoping that it’d plump up the papery skin beneath my eyes. My son was downstairs eating breakfast. […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • JT Walters - Yoga pants sound awesome!! I only have scrubs and old Hanes t-shirts.

    I see an o,d lady with grey hair, no cut, bags under her eyes and bite marks all over her.

    But I saw a friend from High School who also has autism. Her son is 6’4″ and he rocks while mi e jumps. I told her how beautiful she looked. She was like, “JT you need your eyes checked!” But it is true all babies are beautiful, all pregnant women are beautiful and all Moms are beautiful.

    It doesn’t matter what their hair looks like or what clothes they have…it is the love radiating from their hearts for their children that makes them so beautiful.

    If I come to Virginia, I am redoing your downstairs bathroom.

    Now where can I buy yoga pants. They sound comfy!March 31, 2016 – 11:27 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You don’t have yoga pants? Comfiest pants EVER. Although scrubs look super comfy too. It’s so true that our love makes us beautiful. Well said, Mama. LOL to the bathroom and you can get them at Target or wherever!April 1, 2016 – 3:23 pmReplyCancel

      • JT Walters - I am headed there this weekend. Yoga pants here I come! YAY!April 1, 2016 – 4:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - I drive myself crazy sometimes, thinking someone else is hearing me sounding how I hear myself as in my own head. I can’t trust people see me in the exact same ways I see myself, as that image is distorted now. Same with them and myself. Kids are no different. That’s what makes school such a learning experience, friendships a tough landscape to navigate, and the wider world so overwhelming. Kids learn so much from other kids, but we adults are still learning from each other. Plus, kids and adults continuously teach each other, which I hope keeps us adults somewhat humble, if we realize it.
    You seem to realize many things through this weekly blogging exercise you host. Thanks Kristi. I learn a lot from you.April 1, 2016 – 12:09 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Isn’t it weird that we sound different in our heads than we do in real life? I remember when I first recorded my voice and thought “that’s NOT what I sound like!”
      I like your thought on kids teaching us humility. xo Thanks Kerry!!April 1, 2016 – 3:25 pmReplyCancel

  • upasna - I, too, wonder why we need other’s praise word to be happy. I really feel happy when someone says “You are lucky”. I feel more beautiful when someone says it. Why is it so? Don’t we believe in ourselves ?April 1, 2016 – 2:53 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s so true, Upasna! We really should realize how important and wonderful we are – yoga pants and all.April 1, 2016 – 3:31 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I’m glad you came to the realization that you are “every mom” because that can be tough to see when we are so engulfed by our own “stuff.” Because everyone and every mom has their challenges, and sometimes that put together looking mom has it the worst of all, but we never know it. P.S. I am typing this while wearing my yoga pants, even though I’ve never done yoga in my life. 🙂April 1, 2016 – 9:10 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s really true that everybody has their own challenges… and LOL to your yoga pants. I did like three yoga classes years ago and well, not for me. I wish it were – the people who like it really like it, ya know?April 1, 2016 – 3:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - What’s funny is that recently I hadn’t washed my hair and it was still four colors because I hadn’t glazed it yet. So I put on a cute hat and someone saw me and told my friend I looked perfectly put together! ha!
    Sometimes just being real and smiling. I guess that’s enough.April 1, 2016 – 11:33 amReplyCancel

  • mike - it isn’t just mom’s. we guys can feel the same way. My brain thinks I am still young, the mirror lies to me.April 1, 2016 – 4:23 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yup. The stupid mirrors lie. And I’m HONORED you commented. I know you’re ill and out of the stuff so thank you huge, love.April 1, 2016 – 9:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb - Yeah… Just, yeah. love ya.April 1, 2016 – 4:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Well, you know that my self-image is in the toilet & i really wish all those voices in my head would shut the hell up. As I was reading this, I was thinking “Why are you beating yourself up over wearing yoga pants? I wear yoga pants all the time.” Then, I remembered this morning when I put on yoga pants because I told myself that’s all that fits and then hated that I looked like a slob. Long story short, I agree 100%, I just don’t know how to change it. XOXOApril 1, 2016 – 8:54 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I do know… and nothing wrong with yoga pants except that I LOVE jeans. Like love love them, and none fit. Even my fat ones. Here’s to us figuring out how to change it.April 1, 2016 – 10:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - This is not just every mom, but I think every woman out there, or nearly. We all judge ourselves so critically, and see everyone else as so much more perfect. And yet instead of building each other up we often try to tear those “perfect images” down. The little reminder about your nice haircut, or a pretty pair of shoes, those are golden comments that warm the heart and help us regain our perspective. I’ve made it goal to share a little of that sunshine each day, with my coworkers and our clients, in the elevator at work, at the grocery store, etc. and you know, I end up feeling a little better about my frumpy self then too! 🙂April 1, 2016 – 9:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true Josie. We do see everybody as having it more together than we do and the fact is, none of us have it together… or maybe a few do, I dunno. They’re probably boring though.April 1, 2016 – 10:41 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Also? I love that you share the sunshine each day. That’s big huge.April 1, 2016 – 10:42 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I hate running into people and it never happens when you want it to. I think the worst thing someone can say is, “I almost didn’t recognize you.” That wonderful that you got a pretty hair compliment. That’s the best one. Also compliments from strangers. Sometimes I don’t want to compliment somebody because their hair is SO nice and then I think about how it would make my day and that makes me say it out loud.

    Also interesting about heaing “Taco”.April 2, 2016 – 8:57 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true that running into people never happens when hoping for it! That’s cool that you compliment people on their hair even when your first reaction was to stay quiet.April 4, 2016 – 3:09 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - “She’s so put-together,” I thought.

    I get it.

    You speak for all of us, Kristy.

    Want to know something?

    To me, YOU ARE FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABULOUS!!! XxxxApril 4, 2016 – 2:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - Sweet beautiful Kristi, I can’t wait to see you and beat some sense into you;)!April 6, 2016 – 9:11 amReplyCancel

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