leftovers for lunch tomorrow

Do you know what pisses me off the most about the dreaded “Autism Moms”?

Let me tell you, as an autistic adult who also was a main caregiver for an autistic boy (my brother). 

For the record:  I swear that if you use this post to say autism makes people violent and abusive, I will send 12,000 angry geese to flock in your bedroom and destroy every item that you treasure the most. AND I will eat the leftovers you had planned on eating for lunch tomorrow. Don’t you fuckin dare miss the point of this post. 

Listen up. I got a story for you.

Bit of background first.

My boy, my little hobbit, was born when I was ten years old. My mother left him alone with my grandparents and me. She legit abandoned him. 

My grandparents weren’t sure they could take him in. 
I begged. I pleaded. I asked as hard as I could to let us keep him and not give him back to my mother. 

Of course, they said yes. 

I dutifully became the protective older sister.

I would bathe him up until the week I left for college. I measured his medications and crushed them into his favorite yogurt. Blue, if you were curious.I made sure his food was perfect - french fries made just like he wanted, a chicken fry sandwich complete with his favorite McDonald’s sauce we bought in bulk.  
I went to his speech and occupational therapies several times a week, and practiced the things he learned. I went with him to his first day of school.

I even did a middle school project all about autism (which I am slightly embarrassed about, as I mentioned A$ in it ugh). I read all the autism books a 12 year old could find, and immersed myself in the Vanderbilt paperwork. I delved into the world of IEPs, visual schedules, and basic sign language.

And now, I’m still sending them resources and information on medications, papers for teachers, and going over doctor notes for him - despite being six hours away. 

(Of course, I was an undiagnosed autistic girl who also needed quiet. When I wasn’t needed to do these things, I was often in my room away from the loud television and people. I wasn’t a perfect caregiver, but I did do a lot.)

All of that to say: yeah, it wasn’t easy. But since when is raising a kid ever easy? I started looking after this boy when I was ten years old.

But here’s what infuriates me.

I read all the time about these autism moms who complain about how terrible their lives are. They say they’re afraid of being hurt and their lives are destroyed. Some even talk about killing their kids.

You know what?

Yeah, I got hurt by him or when helping him. I got bit, scratched, hit, and everything else. Usually it was just him being frustrated over lack of communicating his needs, so I was rarely angry. 
I ran after him when he went out the door straight for a lawnmower and I fell to the concrete. I grabbed him right before he ran into a street and ended up with my arm covered in blood.

I was kicked in the head and given a traumatic brain injury that requires me to now use a cane, and has caused a ton of nervous system issues. I even use a wheelchair part-time due to another condition that occurred afterwards. I’m only 20, and my health is pretty comparable to someone with congestive heart failure.

And you know what? 

I never in a million years thought about hurting my little brother.

I still don’t blame him. He was often overwhelmed, and had meltdowns. As an autistic person myself, I understood it - even if I didn’t know I was autistic at the time. (I suspected, but was too focused on other things.) 
I don’t know if I’ll ever get better health-wise, and that’s okay. I don’t know if I’ll get to run and dance again, or if there’s worse effects to come. It’s just what it is, and I’ve accepted that. 

He’s a child. It’s not his fault. He once asked me if it was, and I hugged him tight and said absolutely not. 

I say all this not to demonstrate how violent autistic people can be, but to demonstrate that I get where these autism moms are coming from.

  Again, for the record, autistic people are far more likely to be abused and assaulted. 

Remember how I said  I get where they’re coming from?

Yeah, that’s still not an excuse to be harmful toward your child. Ever.

You don’t give your babies bleach, shock them, or starve them. You don’t talk about them as if they’re literally a death sentence for you. And you sure as hell don’t want to murder your little ones. 

And if you literally want to kill your kid, if you would rather have a dead child than an autistic one, I have news for you.

You don’t deserve that child, and you better back up and understand this.

You autism moms need to stop. You need to listen. 

Your kids are going through a world that wants to “cure” them, force them into suffering so they can look “normal.” Your kids are going to spend their entire lives dealing with a world that is hostile to them. People try to assimilate us to save their own pride, at the expense of our own comfort and stability. 
Your kid is going to go through life being told that they should be literally “treated” with electroshock therapy because of their neurology. They’re going to be told that they shouldn’t reproduce. They’re going to be told that they’re not worth having space in this world. Your kid is going to grow up one day, and they’re going to hear this and internalize it. 

I know that, because that’s what I hear every day. 

You say it’s so hard to have an autistic kid?

Well, of course it is. But you know what?

Kids are hard.
They’re going to kick, hit, pinch, and everything else. Even neurotypical kids do that. I don’t know a single kid who hasn’t bit their caregiver or thrown something when grumpy. 
(I’ll say it again for those in the back: autistic kids are way way way more likely to be abused and hurt.)

When you have a kid, you sign up for this. You love that little one unconditionally, you protect them with all your heart. You give them support. You love that child even if they have a disability, especially when they have a disability.

You teach them that they are allowed to exist, that they are just as valuable and needed in this world like anyone else. We need all the neurodiversity in this world we can get. 

You teach your child that they’re not a burden. You teach them how to say no and that autonomy is often more important than compliance. You teach them that you love them, and that they will always have someone in their corner to back them up when times are tough.

I don’t care how hard you think it is raise an autistic child.

Trust me, I know full well it’s hard. Parenting is hard. It’s not easy, and it’s not always roses and fluffy kittens. That has nothing to do with having an autistic kid; that’s just a fact of life. 

The fear of getting hurt is valid. I can attest to that, and I don’t think I can downplay that. But that behavior is communication, and you have to learn how to read it. I did. You have to fight for better supports, for ways to make it easier on your kid - and by doing this, easier for you too. 

Sure, it’s hard.

But you know what? Your kid’s going to have it much harder. 

Frost (Chapter Six)

So this chapter has some of my favorite moments of the entire fic. No spoilers, but I can’t wait to hear what you guys think.


Enjoy :)

“Is there a reason for this particular banquet?” Tony asked, adjusting the necklace he wore every day so it lay better against his shirt. “It seems like you people do an awful lot of feasting.”

“And whatever could you mean by ‘you people’?” Thor teased, coming up behind Tony to help. “This color is lovely on you, Anthony.”

“Yes well, your servants seem to think you and I need to match at all times.” Tony rolled his eyes. “But we do look good all decked out in red, don’t we?”

“You shine brighter than I, my love.” Thor turned him from the mirror and brushed gentle fingers through Tony’s hair. It was getting longer and starting to curl and it made him look soft and young and Thor adored it. “Red might be my favorite color on you.”

“I thought blue was your favorite color.” Tony teased, and stood on his toes for a kiss.

“I rather believe nude is my favorite color on you.” Thor murmured into his lips and Tony laughed.

“I believe you.”

Thor sighed, more of a growl than anything, and lifted Tony into his arms before turning towards the bed, pushing the covers down to lay Tony out across the soft sheets.

“I thought we had a banquet to go to.” Tony protested half heartedly, feeling the electricity between them already rising to the surface, and when he ran his hand down Thor’s chest, sparks jumped between them. “Do we have time to–”

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Water Under the Bridge

Summary: Bucky has been distancing himself from you, but you don’t know why. Requested by anon, based on the song “Water Under the Bridge” by Adele.

Bucky x reader. ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, SOME FLUFF. Word count: 2,003.

TW: brief language, mild smut.

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but I didn’t want to post something I didn’t think I put my best effort into. I hope you like it!

Your name: submit What is this?

“G’morning, Buck. I made some coffee. Cream, no sugar—just how you like it,” you said as Bucky came out of your bedroom, showered and dressed but still visibly exhausted.

“Thanks, but I’m late. See you after work,” said Bucky, racing past you as he reached for his jacket. He quickly threw it on and grabbed the door handle before you stopped him.

“Umm, babe? Forgetting something?” you asked, waiting for your goodbye kiss like you got every morning.

“Right. Keys,” said Bucky, pulling his keys out of the dish by the door and leaving without another word.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” you murmured on your way to the shower. Even on days when he was running late Bucky would always kiss you on the forehead and tell you he loved you before running out the door.

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Always - Sonny Carisi x Reader

I simply could not get this idea out of my head and felt compelled to write it. I know others have written fics set after this episode, and I’m so excited to read and share them all (I explicitly didn’t want to read others until I finished lol). I went in expecting this to turn out more angsty than fluffy, but what can I say? I want to see Sonny happy. I really hope you enjoy!

Sonny Carisi x Female Reader. 
Takes place right after 19x02, “Mood.” Mentions of Catholicism.
Tags: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 1,355 Warnings: 19x02 spoilers

Originally posted by iheartcarisi

As soon as Sonny walked through the door, you immediately knew something had happened.

Usually boisterous and anxious to plant a kiss on you as soon as he got home, he was eerily quiet.

There was a beat of silence as you peeked into the hall, observing him; he had been in the rain no doubt, and looked to be in a daze of sorts, deep in thought.

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this got unexpectedly long and i may edit and post it to ao3 this weekend but for now here is some lifetime-level angsting with small side of pining foggy finding out about matt’s abilities during school for @idlewildly

also i’m going to cross out the ‘down but not out’ square on my bingo card though this is probably the loosest interpretation of the saying ever

He finds out by accident.

It’s Sunday and Foggy has a mountain of reading waiting for him back at the apartment but he’s full of Mom’s pot roast and actual homemade chocolate cream pie and the sun’s still out even though it’s pushing seven. Life feels bigger than reading and law school and Foggy feels good.

He’s taking a circular route to the bus that’ll take him uptown, back to the sardine can he shares with Matt, sneakers scuffling over the concrete. He’s not exactly dragging his feet but he’s definitely not in any kind of hurry. He’s got leftovers in his backpack, enough to split with Matt for lunch tomorrow because Mom gets all worried when Matt declines dinner invitations (“I just don’t like to think about him without anyone to look out for him.” Mom says with her typical honesty. Foggy shrugs it off, twenty-two and invested in defending their independence, bites back the candor he inherited from the woman in front of him, the urge to say, “He’s got me.”).

He almost misses Matt.

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this isnt like the Biggest Deal in the world but i just made myself a yummy dinner with enough leftovers for lunch tomorrow and then i cleaned up everything and did all the dishes and my back hurts like hell but i am Proud

anonymous asked:

one where your boyfriend thinks your cheating on him with Spencer and gets aggressive then you realize you actually have feelings for Spencer but are to afraid of your boyfriend to leave. happy ending and sorry if its confusing. Btw love your blog!

Originally posted by thisbutterflydoesntcare


Contains: Angst, abuse, and lots of swearing and sexual references. 

(Letters in bold are Spencer’s thoughts)

-Btw I don’t actually know if the BAU would have a secretary or not but I was binge-watching the Office so sue me XD-


When you told people you worked at the FBI, they would get all excited and impressed before you told them what you actually did. You were a secretary. You answered phone calls, made copies, took minutes in meetings, as well as schedule those, answering the phone, scheduling the teams flights, that sort of thing. It wasn’t really exciting but you did get to work for some pretty exciting people.

Aaron Hotchner, your boss, was the Unit Chief and Supervisory Special Agent of the group of profilers that worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The title sounded intimidating and usually shut people right up. Of course you didn’t think of him like that, you thought of him as your friend, as well as all the members of the team. Even though the entire team was like a family in itself they all made sure you felt loved in your own special way.

Your best friends were Penelope Garcia, who was the technical analyst of the BAU, and Spencer Reid-ahem Doctor- who was also an SSA. You sometimes assisted Penelope unless she was dragged away with the team on a mission. Those were the loneliest days, when both of them weren’t there.

“Good morning!” Garcia greeted you as she walked in the BAU, placing the usual pastry and coffee on your desk, content to grab some for you since she lived close to a coffeehouse she would pass every morning on her way to work. As long as you reimbursed her though. “Guess who’s coming back today!” She sung, leaning over the counter of your desk.

“Shut up!” You laughed, playfully shoving her arm. Garcia had been trying to set you two up forever, and while you wouldn’t mind, you believed he only thought of you as a friend, so you tried not to think about it. “Besides I’ve actually started dating someone, remember?”

“Oh yes, this elusive enigma known as Luke. When am I going to get to meet him?” She asked, placing her head on her hands, her elbows resting on the desk. You shrugged, telling her you two were taking things slow. “How about you make something- or order take out since we don’t want to subject your fella to your cooking.” You rolled your eyes at her teasing. “And then let me invite myself along. I could bring Spencer as my date.”

She waggled her eyebrows while you raised yours.“I thought you were into the dark, daring and ever so strong Derek Morgan.” You pointed out and she waved her hand. “I would, but I believe your other best friend is Spencer, and by friendship law, in order of you to date someone, the best friends must approve. Plus, you could also make him jealous.” She smiled wickedly.

“Alright, alright, I’ll talk to him about it.” You smiled, shaking on the inside of how *he* would react.


“Hi guys! Come on in!” You faked a smile, welcoming your friends inside. You marveled at their attire, Penelope dressed in a beautiful turquoise dress and heels, Spencer’s own brown button up, slacks and Carmel-colored sweater vest complimenting her get-up nicely. You wore a nice black dress with a white button up sweater, covering the bruises and cuts, not wanting to make up another petty excuse for them.

//“Well dear, it would’ve been nice if you had asked me before inviting over your friends.” Luke’s tone made you on edge. You shakily reached for his shoulder, trying to calm him down before he got out of hand. His hand grabbed your wrist before it met the material of his cotton shirt, making you gulp.

“Well, Penelope sort of invited herself and Spencer over-”

“Then you say no until I say it’s okay!” He snapped. His softer side came out, noticing your discomfort and sighing. “Aw honey, I just had a rough day today, I didn’t mean to yell.” He forced you into a hug and you let out a shaky breath in relief, believing you avoided a bullet.

“Don’t let it happen again.” He growled, shoving you aside.//

You balled your hands into fists to try and hide the trembling. The hardest part of this was trying not to let Spencer profile your discomfort with your boyfriend. You didn’t know what would happen if Spencer tried to confront Luke, or who would even win if a brawl occurred.

“It smells wonderful y/n.” Spencer smiled, making an actual one appear on your face. “What do you think Garcia?” he asked and she shrugged. “It smells great don’t get me wrong but why are you asking me?” She appeared confused and you knew that Spencer was about to-

“According to Dolores Malaspina women have a better sense of smell than men. She says one of the reasons for this may be that women have a more developed orbital prefrontal region of the brain. It may have also evolved from an ability to discern the best possible mates, or to help women better bond with and understand newborns.” Spencer stated, nodding slightly. You laughed as Garcia made an obscene face, wondering how he knew what he did.

“So where’s Luke?” Penelope asked, as if on cue, he emerged from the kitchen. His blonde hair was tied into one of the popular man-buns, wiping his hands, presumably just washing them. Garcia gave you an impressed look, but if they only really knew.

“Nice to meet the friends of my chick.” He smiled, shaking their hands. “I’ve heard a little bit about you both.” Spencer frowned slightly and you upped your ‘performance’, kissing Luke’s cheek.

He said chick, not girlfriend, or 'my girl’, so he doesn’t respect her.

“Why don’t we head to the table?” Luke smiled and you felt secure. He seemed to be in a happy mood. You went to grab the pan of pasta you had made, starting to dish out the serving to Luke when he stopped you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, the conversation between Garcia and Spencer falling, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You stopped your motions, confused. He chuckled, “You serve our guests first silly.” You laughed at yourself, turning to the opposite side of the table where Penelope and Garcia sat.

“I-it’s been so long since we’ve had company I’ve completely lost my manners!”

Her hands are shaking and she’s stuttering.

When you were finished serving everyone, you sat down, waiting for Luke’s approval. If he didn’t like it he would wait until Spencer and Penelope left to deem whatever punishment he saw fit. “This is wonderful hon.” He patted your back, a silent rule allowing you now to partake in dinner along with everyone else.

You reached for the garlic bread in the center of the table, not noticing your sleeve rolled up a bit. You met Spencer’s wary glance and put your arm back in your lap, tugging the sleeve down.

From then on the dinner seemed to go smoothly, all of you engaging in conversation putting you in a familiar place. It was then you realized this was the first time you felt safe and happy in a long while.


Later that evening, everything was calm. Dishes were washed and put away, leftovers saved for your lunch tomorrow, Penelope and Spencer long gone. You and Luke were sitting on the couch relaxing comfortably, your head resting on his shoulder. You supposed you two would probably head to bed soon since it was getting so late in the evening.

“Why were you flirting with the Doctor?” He asked as if it was casually. Your head popped up and your brows furrowed as you turned to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his stare turned from loving to fierce. “Don’t try to deny it, I could see you. The way you looked at him, the tone of your voice when you talked to him. Geez y/n, I was right there!”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice wasn’t as confidant as you wanted it to be, and you tried to prepare yourself for whatever move he was going to make. One moment, he could be the man you believed he was when you two started dating, the next he could be slapping you, calling you a whore for looking another man in the eye.

“Don’t you lie to me!” He roared, shoving you to the ground. Your shoulder painfully hit the coffee table, a cry escaping your lips. “You wanted him to come, to see you in that slurry little get-up and taste your cooking, seeing what our house looked like. A for sure sign letting that dick know that everything here and between your legs are for the taking!” He kicked you, only just beginning the punishment he deemed fit for you.


The days that followed after that could only be compared to white noise. You stayed quiet, dressing in long pants and turtlenecks, barely talking to anyone, except Luke. Ever since he accused you of cheating with Spencer, he stopped by everyday to 'check’ on you. You were now constantly feeling sick all the time, and no, thank goodness you weren’t pregnant. It was only emotional.

When Luke came in that morning, he kissed your cheek and asked you how you’re day went you answered with the usual 'fine’, which somehow today only seemed to make him mad. “Fine? I came all the way here for 'fine’? You haven’t been fucking that stick figure have you? Maybe I should just go date your fat bitch friend. She seems like she could be more obedient than you.”

"Don’t you dare insult my friends.” You fumed warned him, trying to stay firm. It was hard to get angry when you know as soon as you set foot into your house and didn’t play 50’s housewive you’d end up paying 50$ at the pharmacy the next day to repair yourself.

“I can say whatever I want. What are you going to do about it? You’re my bitch and you do whatever I want.” You went to slap him but he grabbed your wrist harshly. He started laughing which confused you. “Big mistake honey-bun.”

He shoved you up against a wall, grabbing your hair and pulling it roughly. You tried pleading with him to stop, but your cries fell to deaf ears.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hotch addressed Luke, the team not far behind him. “Let her go.” They had their guns up, like that would stop him. He was going to kill you, this time for sure. You met Spencer’s eyes which were filled with…a mixture of emotions and you looked away.

“Why even waste time with her?” Morgan asked, and you knew he was trying to get Luke into a sense of calmness so they could get a clear shot, but it still hurt. You knew that’s what Luke thought of you anyway. As Morgan and the rest of the team talked Luke down, you met Spencer’s eyes again.

Your flight or fight response finally kicked in and you slammed your foot on top of his, his arms releasing you and you practically flying out of the way, enough time for Rossi to bash Luke’s face into the wall and handcuff him. It was like a friggen soap opera. Just before Rossi could cuff the other hand, Luke punched the closest person in the face, which happened to be Spencer.

Between the arrest and transport of your ex-boyfriend, you didn’t even get a chance to talk to Spencer, Garcia holding you like you were about to turn into a pool of liquid.


“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, avoiding his stare. If you had to see the bandage on his nose again you were sure that you would start crying. It was a little later, after all the drama went down.

“I should be asking if you’re okay.’ He paused. "Y/n I need to say something or I’ll simply explode. You know 1 in 3 women victims of physical violence by an intimate partner within their lifetime a-a-and 1 in 5 women have been victims of severe physical violence by an intimate partner. On a typical day, there are more than 20,000 phone calls placed to domestic violence hotlines nationwide, so how come you didn’t tell me. H-h-h-how didn’t I know! I-” He was cut off by your sob.

“I’m sorry I’m so weak. I’m everything he said I was.” Spencer immediately wrapped his arms around you, whispering reassuring things in your ear.

“Don’t you *ever* think that you’re remotely comparable to anything that comes out of his mouth.” He waited for a little while until you’re tears had subsided. “I’ll be here for you y/n, always. If you’ll let me- whenever you feel ready, I’ll make sure you get the love and respect that you’re long overdue for.”


(Hoped you guys liked it. The reason I haven’t been posting much is due to the fact that I have heavy self-esteem issues about my writing. I hope none of you are being abused in any way, and I hope you all are safe.)

i have project-ed enough that I feel good about it

I got a shit ton of stuff done this weekend,  which also feels pretty good.

I’m hoping leftovers from dinner tonight will taste better as lunch tomorrow because they are what I fucking have. 

@wiskee  *:・゚ ♡

“would you like to stay for dinner?” visits from the vaquero were always something angela looked forward to. usually he’d visit her in her office, but today was her day off and she was enjoying every minute of it. that, however, didn’t stop her from keeping busy all day. her whole apartment had been cleaned head to toe, organized all her books and started preparing a meal for one with enough leftovers for lunch tomorrow. of course, she’d offer him the other serving if he was willing to stay. angela loved his company.

I baked savory muffins for the first time in ages (for the first time in this apartment!), and they turned out pretty good!

And we have plenty of leftovers for lunch tomorrow <3

30 Minute Dinners for Busy Weeknights [Olicity Buzz]

Hi all! Our next Olicity buzz fic is brought to you by the wonderful Buzzfeed article: 5 Tasty Ideas for 30-Minute Dinners. I hope you like it!

Originally posted by flarrowandmore

Steak and Pepper Tacos

“We aren’t going to eat all of that,” Felicity wrinkles her nose as she peeks into the pan, obscuring his view. It’s quite a feat to manage that, one she only accomplishes by the fact that she’s sat on the kitchen worktop beside the stove top. Her legs swing from side to side as she grips the edge - something he enforced personally after her wandering hands distract him one too many times.

“Yes, we will,” he tells her, taking another handful of sliced pepper and tossing it into the pan.

“But that’s… Oliver, wait that’s three whole bell peppers,” she rushes out, eyes widening.

“That’s what the recipe says,” he reminds her, turning his attention to measuring out the oregano.

“But the recipe also says it feeds four,” she argues. “I know you can eat a lot - which is criminal with that figure - but we are not four people. We aren’t even three people.”

He watches her with amusement, the way she skeptically glances at the pan as he throws in each ingredient. It’s only when he’s added the steaks to a separate pan that he steps up to her swinging legs, parting them so he can stand between them, and then draws her away from inspecting his culinary skills with a teasing kiss.

(He’s cooking. It’s only going to end one way. He’s planned a dessert, they won’t eat it til after they’ve fooled around on the couch.)

“Lucky for you, it means you get leftovers for lunch tomorrow,” he tells her with a small nibble of her lower lip, one that has her moaning deliciously as her arms loop around his shoulders and draw him in closer.

“Best boyfriend ever,” she decides, only letting go of him when the timer sounds.

Keep reading


After leaving the cemetery Harry and Saffron go for a bike ride to Butterfly Esplanade, and arrive home late in the afternoon to find the golden aroma of roast turkey wafting through the house. 

Harry: Wow, this is great! What’s the special occasion?

Anita: No special occasion. I just felt like we should have a nice family dinner. You and Mireille can have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. You could make turkey sandwiches. Or turkey fritters-

Harry: Wait. What did you just say? 

Anita: I said, you and Mireille can have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. 

Harry: You’re not going to poison them, are you? 

Anita: That’s not funny, Harry.

Saffron: Tee hee. It is kind of funny, Mum.

Anita: Could you leave the table after you’ve finished, Saffy? Your Dad and I need to have a little talk.

whenever i have leftovers from going out to dinner im like “yay i’ll have lunch for tomorrow!!” but actually i always end up eating it at 11pm the same night


This one I also found in Texas for 5 dollars so I could not resist.

Lifted some weights with Sarah and then did Zumba.

You know I’ve been dealing with this whole transition with my move and different types of workouts and eating and gaining some weight back and for a while I thought it was the worst thing in the world. The more I think about it, when I was in my smaller clothing, I STILL wasn’t happy with my body completely and I just keep telling myself if I don’t learn to really and truly appreciate my body now then if I happen to go back down in clothing sizes there is no guarantee I’ll automatically love it. Some days it comes easier to love what I see in the mirror and other days it’s really hard but I would like to keep at it. And no matter what size I have to remind myself that the people in my life and all around me don’t base their love for me on what size clothing I’m wearing.

That is going to be something I really focus on this summer.

I had spaghetti for dinner and it was delicious and now I can’t wait for leftovers for lunch tomorrow, tbh.

Now it’s time to get home because there is some watermelon in the fridge that is calling my name for dessert.


Kevin had the night off so I took the night off from Zumba to spend time with him since I’ll be gone for the weekend.

We were originally going to go to Cracker Barrel but they were packed so we went to Strouds for some fried chicken. The food is delicious and we had leftovers so I have my lunch for tomorrow.

And if you’re curious, that’s Kevin’s “candid” face on the bottom right.