The Network Marketing Roller Coaster

Network Marketing is an entrepreneurial endeavor. It’s an amazing yet wild ride. It can be scary and volatile or satisfying and fun. No matter what, it’s still a wild ride. Step aside babies this one isn’t for you. 

Part of the reason it’s a roller coaster is because it has moments that are emotionally challenging, especially if you’re a little bit of a baby. I know I was immature when I got started. Thank goodness this business is forgiving! 

I’ve learned from some of my mistakes, but now, I take my NuCerity biz seriously as a professional. I can understand why some don’t respond when I message them. I get the perceived notion they may have. It doesn’t really matter though. I will still love them no matter what. I don’t care if they with me or hate me, I’ll simply still love them not as they love me but as Christ does. 

Still, not responding to messages is rude. I’m certainly not prefect, and I’ll be the first one to say I’ve made this very mistake. We all forget. We all get interrupted. We all have a moment that we don’t know what to say right then, but it’s still rude, okay? 

It would be okay except that this isn’t the exception. It’s the rule. Most will ignore you and only some will even listen. That is this life. That is this world. We are 2017. The quicker we see this as a reality, the easier this biz becomes and the more we can start helping those who want you to be in their life. 

It’s not hard to type invites. It’s not hard to follow up. It doesn’t take all that much time. However, it may feel hard looking like a crazy idiot to some. 

But you’re not a crazy idiot for going after your dreams. You’re not a psychopath for wanting to have more security and more time to make memories instead of working. Don’t let society tell you that you’re crazy and it’ll never work. After all, society might be the one off its rocker and not you. 

Wait a minute, this doesn’t only apply to this business, does it? No. I think this new stipulation is our new world. It doesn’t matter if it’s entrepreneurial dreams or something else like working out or mastering a new hobby. 

They key is to learn to adapt. Learn to catch their eye. Pretty soon you’ll learn from your mistakes and come out better than you could have imagined. 

It’s not only possible, it’s totally true. If you put in the work, the dream will become a reality. 

The work is worth it, so make it happen. 

Good luck, 


A Letter to My Grandma 

There comes a time in our life where we must bury someone we love. It’s devastating, heartbreaking, and hard, but it is a fact of life. Two and a half years ago I buried my grandma. She was such an important piece of my life, so I took it hard. Somehow I’m finally ready to share how amazing she was with all of you. 


No one will understand our relationship: part grandma, part mother. You inspired me to become more and embrace God’s will and the crosses of this life. You taught me that I can overcome anything, so why does your death feel impossible to overcome? 

You are gone from my life. You have left grandpa alone. You have quit nagging my dad. You have stopped calling my uncle. All we have is your things and a gaping hole in our heart. Because you’re gone, we have a piece of us gone too. That piece died with you that day. 

You watched me take my first steps, ride fast horses, and fall off a bunch. You were always there snapping pictures and documenting events. I take pictures now and think that I can’t wait to show them to you, but I’ll never get the chance. 

I will never forget the days weeding the garden, playing cards and games, baking brownies, or canning tomatoes. It wasn’t that you spoiled me, it was the life lessons you taught me while we did those things. Lessons of God, morals, sacrifice, and family. The things we did were just that, they were things. It was the intangible virtues you laid in my heart and soul that put me on a path of resilience, respect, love, and consequently finding my husband. 

Your funny habits still make me tear up or laugh my ass off. Grandpa too. It wasn’t long after you died and I went to visit him. I made a hamburger hot dish with hamburger, tomatoes and cream of mushroom soup. It was easy and simple, but grandpa loved it. I bet he loved it for the same reason I did – it tasted like something you’d make. But, then I remembered that you would make something similar, then make yourself a hot dog to eat. I reminded grandpa that you used to do that all of the time – make a damn hotdog to eat for yourself while preparing a wholesome meal for everyone else. Recalling this made us both laugh then cry. We missed you so much in that moment and I still tear up remembering that day. Every time I open a can or a jar of tomatoes, I still think of you. 

I’ll also always remember just days before you died, I was with you and you took pictures of Bailey at 9 months old. I’ll never forget you laying and rolling on the floor with her. You loved her so much and only wanted to play and laugh forever with her. We shared the moment of excitement when I realized Bailey had her first tooth. To think you never got to see her first birthday still shatters my heart. You made me leave that night, but I didn’t want to go, and now, I wish I would have stayed. 

You were a woman of character and selflessness. You’re attitude and personality were second to none, and I’m proud that most people say, I have one just like you. 

You are the unsung hero of how on earth I got where I am today. And now, I remember your tidbits of wisdom here and there as I go through my life in marriage and motherhood. Your words ring even more true as the days pass on. 

But I still have little pieces of your presence around. I have your son, who worries about his grandkids as much as you used to worry about us. I have a daughter who not only has your gorgeous porcelain skin, but your temperament. She’s my little version of you. And I am so incredibly lucky. 

But there’s something I wish I could change. I wish you could hear Caleb’s laugh. I wish you could hold Josey tight. Most of all, I wish I could hear your voice, just one more time. One more time hear you say, “I love you.” I wish I could feel your kiss on my cheek and feel your hug that always warmed and softened my heart. 

The thing I wish the most, is that I can be half the woman you were. To be half as selfless, half as willing of God’s cross, and half as inspiring. 

One thing that is startling me as well as comforting me is that you keep visiting me in my dreams. You’re always talking like you’re still alive. You keep reminding me of the life you lived on earth. You keep giving me a taste of your heart each night in my sleep. They didn’t always bring me love. They used to be nightmares. They used to haunt me, but they are now a piece of you I get to relive when I go to sleep. I’m sure you’re begging me to pray for you, which I’ll never stop. You meant that much. I’d be happy praying every day, for you. 

My kids will always know what you meant to me and how you shaped my life. I appreciated every moment, hour, and day spend with you. My heart will never be the same. 

So thank you. Thank you for instilling your values into my heart, and inspiring me to be the greatest woman I possibly can. Without you, I wouldn’t be who I am today. 



Josey’s Birth Story 

Birth isn’t pretty. I think birth is beautiful, but it’s surely not “pretty.” Birth can be gritty, primal, intense, and scary. That said, I still think it’s the most beautiful rite of passage I’ve been able to participate in. 

I wanted to share our birth story on the blog because, frankly, I’m so very proud of it. I’m proud because I kept my cool. I accepted the hard parts and even embraced them. For the first time, I felt like I have accomplished the impossible and it’s staggeringly fulfilling – for me. That is what I wanted out of birth and everyone has their own circumstances, goals, and wants. Birth is our womanly statement – no matter what. We all have our own story to tell, so here’s mine: 

Our birth story journey started with losing my mucous plug on Saturday (November 26) morning. The kids and I took a 30 min walk at 1:30 pm. I remember wishing something would happen, but I had no contractions all day – even with weeks of braxton hicks and prodromal labor. Seb/Sebastian (husband) was gone all day, not at work, but butchering hogs and making sausage with my dad and some of his family. They had a lot to do, so it would be a late night. This time, a few extra things came up. The kids and I spent the night watching Cinderella. I couldn’t wait for it to be over, so I could go upstairs and go to sleep. I had some contractions during the movie and even texted Seb about them. They weren’t too painful but definitely there and timable. But they quit… like every other night. 

I finally went to bed at 11pm, but it wasn’t long until I woke up to a painful contraction at 2:30am. I was surprised Seb was still not at home. I texted him to check and make sure he was okay. He said he would be home in an hour or so because a few things came up while making sausage. Before I could fall back asleep, I got another contraction: 10 minutes later. I rolled over and propped myself on pillows. The next one hurt too much to lay down though, so I got up. Next, I tried sitting on the labor/exercise ball while laying my head on the bed and tried to snooze. I was cold, shaky and just really uncomfortable. I thought there had to be a way to get comfy. I still felt tired, so I crawled back into bed. I realized on the next contraction that I really couldn’t lay in bed. That’s when I decided on a shower. If anything could stop these annoying contractions, it was a shower or bath. I labored for 3 more contractions on the toilet. It felt good to just sit with the hum/roar of the shower going. I started some music too. If I was going to be awake, I was going to enjoy it. The contractions felt okay but a bit intense, yet not like Braxton Hicks. I had 2-3 more in the shower. They still felt super manageable yet quite real. I Heard Seb come home around 3:45am when I got out of the shower. I sat back down on the toilet. I just felt like keeping to myself. Which is out of character for me. His presence in the house was good enough. I worry and think about the older kids. Who’s going to watch them? He came in the bathroom to check on me and asked what I wanted to do with them. I said I don’t know, but eventually I decided we have time to call and wait for Toni, my mother-in-law. He called at 4:30am.  I called the hospital at the same time to let them know I was probably in real labor. I chatted with the nurse and she asked questions, and I asked which doctor was on call and who would be delivering. I made a mental note to text my friends who also delivered at this hospital to see what kind of doctor she was, but I forgot to actually follow through with that. At this point, I’m walking around in my robe alternating between walking, standing & rocking and bouncing on the ball. 

Seb goes on our phone plan and puts his new phone on our account. At 5 am, he lays down to nap until we need to go to the hospital. 

I run jasmine in the diffuser while he’s calling and setting up his phone. I still hope the next contraction comes, and they don’t stop. I fight being scared that they will quit. I know that’s not good for labor, so I just pray to accept whatever God has planned. I do my makeup a little and flat iron my hair. I try rocking in the chair as he naps in bed. I want to be close to him because he’s calm and his presence feels good. As soon as the next contraction comes, I hate sitting there so I get up. I remember being frustrated during the contraction wishing it would stop, so I could move. I notice that the contractions are coming every 8 min now. I know that’s a good sign, but I still don’t let myself believe that it is real labor. I’m still focusing on embracing God’s plan, but I’m still a little afraid we’ll go to the hospital only to be disappointed. I pack the bag a few times and organize my labor things. I continue timing and still wonder if I’ll have another. Then it comes and I remember that these contractions feel intense. Each one that comes makes me think that it’s more and more real. 

Around 5:30am, Seb’s boss texts Seb. Although it’s Sunday, they had planned on taking bull pictures since it was the only day that would probably work, weather wise. He mentions bedding the picture pen with fresh straw. I didn’t know Seb’s password to get on his phone, so I ended up texting his boss back on mine. He wished us luck and mentioned that, of course, he’d have it handled. I then texted Jen, our neighbor, friend, and labor photographer, and said it was for sure labor and we would be going to the hospital soon. 

We expected Toni to arrive at our home at 6:30 am. I woke Seb up at 6 o’clock after I got everything packed, set up, and loaded in the car. I got a little nervous but reminded myself that I had plenty of time. I didn’t want transitional labor in the car. I also needed antibiotics during labor, so being a little early was okay. I did have a gut feeling at 6 am that it was time to go. I couldn’t wait much longer. 

The contractions at this point were still 8 to 10 min apart, but I continued to have little contractions lasting 30 seconds in between the bigger contractions. It was such a weird rhythm of the contractions. If I would have waited until they were 5 min apart, I would have had her at home. They never got that close. 

As we drove to the hospital, Seb drove the speed limit the whole way, and Jen followed us. I had a few contractions on the way and the only way I felt comfortable was by hugging the headrest and relaxing the rest of my body, but I was still managing fine. We talked about the birth plan and the doctors in between the contractions. I called the hospital again when we got closer and realized I called right at shift change at 7am. I talked to someone new and requested a nurse who could be compatible with my hopes of a 2nd unmediated/ natural labor and delivery. 

We parked and went through the ER. As the nurse for labor and delivery was coming down to get us, the ER nurse asked if I was okay. I was still laughing and joking in between contractions, so I must have looked like a crazy lady coming there super early. I still did feel like we were extra early. It was only 7:30 am. 

When my nurse offered the wheelchair to the labor unit, I decided I wanted to walk up to our room. On the way, I had another contraction. I just slowed down walking and breathed slowly. It still felt good to move. 

Of course when we got to our room Seb started some oils. I chose peace and calming. Then, I jumped in bed to get hooked up to the monitors and get the iv and antibiotics. I hate this part. I hate sitting still or laying down. When I couldn’t lay down or sleep at 3 am, that’s how I knew this might be real labor. My nurse checks me and I’m a 5. Seriously a 5! I say, “I’ve never been so happy to be 5cm in my life.” 

The nurses had a hard time getting my IV started. I must have the veins of a small child. Four tries later, I have been watching the clock. It’s been an hour or so. At one point, there were no nurses in the room, and Seb mentioned that baby girl’s heart rate dips down a little during a contraction. My nurse confirms it. She’s a little nervous, but it’s not worrisome yet. I finally ask to get out of bed, and they finally get the IV going while I’m standing. Yay! 

I labor, walk around in my room, and use the restroom. Seb recommends the ball to help position baby girl better so there aren’t any more heart rate decelerations. I wasn’t excited about the idea for managing the pain, but I took his advice thinking it might work. I just bounced and rocked through the next contraction saying a few Hail Mary’s that our baby girl would turn and if I could please stay out of bed. Right after that contraction, I felt her shift and push her whole butt and back along my belly button. I just felt at peace that she scooted a little bit. 

I meet the new doctor at this point, and she’s good. I’m comfortable with her. – I’m lucky to say this part. 

At 9 am, doctor comes in again to do a check and offers to break my water. I know if she breaks my water that things will intensify dramatically, but it will also move things along quickly if this labor mirrors our son’s birth at all. I’m managing so well that I’m not sure I want her to break my water yet. I ask Seb what he thinks. He votes break my water and after a moment I trust his judgment and go with breaking my water. It’s good clear water. Yay! 

But I was right. Things get intense. I roll onto hands and knees for the long hard contraction that follows. It somewhat surprised me on the intensity, and I felt a little push at the end. I mentioned I was a feeling pushy. Then I fell into the pillows to relax until the next contraction. I kept on repeating, “thank you” to God. He was giving me a nice break to accept, embrace, and prepare. My sweet nurse checks me, and I’m a 7. The next contraction was just as intense, but this time I was mentally ready and focused on relaxing my face starting at my brow, then my eyes, then tongue, jaw, and shoulders. I chanted, “I can do anything for a minute.” Checked again and I was an 8. I knew it was going to go quickly now. I remember the nurses bringing in equipment in for baby and I but I was only hearing these things. I couldn’t see because my eyes were closed and I was facing the bed. 

I thought they shouldn’t be in too much of a hurry. I didn’t want them waiting on me. 

But I was distracted by that thought with another contraction. I told Seb I needed some Valor essential oil. I felt a little out of control. Valor was amazing. As usual. It smelled good and gave me some relaxing power to embrace that I was gearing up to meet my baby. I felt like I could take on the next job and that was having my daughter. The very womb inhabitant who spent 40 weeks inside hearing my heartbeat and my stomach gurgle. I now get the opportunity to put a face to her kicks, flips, and turns. That moment is quickly approaching. That moment is now. My body was made to do this. I hung on Seb for the rest of this contraction with my knees on the bed. I remember it feeling quite intense and quite sharp. 

My nurse taps me on my left shoulder, in the next break of contractions. She said, “roll over. You’re about to have your baby.” I was still in a little shock this was happening so quickly. I was surprised it was really happening. It was a happy surprise that I was embracing. 

I rolled over and the next contraction it felt good to give little pushes and then the moment came. At 9:51am, Josephine Rose was born and the doctor said, “catch your baby.” 

And, I did. 

I grabbed that little, slippery baby and brought her to my chest. Her chubby face was scrunched and she looked like her siblings except she was dark. Dark hair and dark eyes. She grabbed my scapular before looking at my face when I talked to her. It was a beautiful moment. I knew that, although I battled through her pregnancy to embrace her new presence in our life, she was truly sent from God. It was our job to show her the way to embracing God’s beautiful cross. We don’t get to choose our crosses and yet, God knows the perfect one to send. She is healthy, and we are so very lucky and blessed. 

The Beginning a journey no one wants to start – postpartum depression

I have a history of depression and anxiety, so I’ve been on guard for postpartum depression or anxiety as well. I know the feeling of spiraling out of control, losing my cool for something minor, or having a really hard time getting motivated to simply get out of bed. Because I’ve been through it before, I can tell when it’s starting to spiral downward.  

Throughout Josey’s pregnancy, I had minor anxiety. I would obsess over something, and I would have a hard time not letting it consume me. I would ask Seb to just pray for me, and before long I was able to accept God’s will. Soon after, I was able to embrace it. His prayers were truly incredible, but it was because I accepted God’s graces. God is so good and truly provides. My husband is supportive and even more important close to Christ. His prayers got me through it. 

Now that she’s born, I thought it would get better, and it did for a little while, but as my hormones are crashing post birth, I’m feeling like I’m spiraling out of control. Are these feelings the baby blues or something more? It’s a thought that terrifies me. I’m stopped in my tracts wondering how long these feelings, these thoughts, will last. 

But, it doesn’t really matter what it is or how long I will have to endure it. Because of my background, I need to do something about it now.  Along with Seb’s prayers, I’ve started some herbs trusted for centuries for postpartum women. I’m hoping to take back some control – not of my life but of myself. 

Depression is real. Anxiety is real. It doesn’t matter if it’s before, during, or after pregnancy. It doesn’t matter if it’s because of a traumatic event or in spite of a perfect life. Emotions run deep. Thoughts rule us. Depression or anxiety is not something you can sweep under the rug. Its something to deal with before it snowballs into a monster. That’s why I won’t be afraid to bring it up to my doctor, yet it’s nerve racking to say aloud. It’s hard to say that I’m not loving being a part of my perfect little family that gives me every reason to smile. Soon, though, I’ll remember to smile and breathe in every moment with a genuine smile on my face. 

I think we have all went through hard times emotionally. Grief, relationships, or just life. Sometimes the emotions hang on even when the hard moment is over. The feelings linger. You feel like you just can’t shake it. 

And it’s frustrating yet embarrassing. 

But we have all been there. 

It might be openly or obviously. It might be behind closed doors or crying in the bathroom at work. 

The only way this gets better is through time and taking the power away from those thoughts. 

Don’t be afraid. Don’t be ashamed. Accept this is hard, but do something. Reach out to someone. Try something new. Go to your doctor. Please, if you’re feeling like this, do something. I can guarantee you won’t regret it. Once you squash this, and you can and will, it’ll be worth it. It will be worth it when it’s all over. Let that be your hope to work through it. 



Recover From Falling Off of the Bandwagon

Sometimes we all fall off the bandwagon. The bandwagon of eating well, exercising, or whatever. This time it was something else. I fell off of my skincare bandwagon into shark infested waters. And it’s been hard. Harder than I could have imagined. 

I said hard, but I meant regretfully, awkwardly deja vu. 

 I have found the same self conscious thoughts are back to haunt me. Things like: “I wonder if so-and-so notices this blemish or that imperfection”. “Why can’t I have skin like so-and-so.” 

Truth is, when i look into the mirror, my face doesn’t look like it has changed that much, but I can FEEL a night and day difference. I know what that means: if I don’t change something soon, I’ll see it too. 

The heartbreaking part is that it has consumed who I am as a wife and mother. I’m constantly checking and touching my face, and I’m back to telling my children and husband, “don’t touch my face.” 

This isn’t anyone’s fault, 
but mine. 

So tonight, after I take my supplements, crawl into bed, but before I fall asleep, I will hop back on the NuCerity Skincare bandwagon because sometimes you don’t realize the value of something until it is gone. I’m lucky enough to know I can have my sanity, self confidence, and love for my skin back soon. 

Stay tuned, the process might be a little entertaining. 

Back on the bandwagon Skincerity series day 1 

Day 1 reflections of my series of using Skincerity again has me realizing that it’s not about what my skin looks like. It is how I feel about my skin and that comes from how my skin feels. 

As I rolled it on, I thought it would annoy me during the night as I wake up to feed the babe. 

But it didn’t. 

I thought I wouldn’t appreciate it. 

But I did, so very much. 


Of how my skin FELT in the morning. My skin felt soft and supple. It felt nourished yet exfoliated. I needed so much exfoliating. My poor skin is finally on the way back to the healthy state it was at before I fell off of the bandwagon. 

Maybe we can’t see much of a difference yet. All I need to keep going is how I feel when I peel and wash it off each morning. 

I’m excited to roll again. And again. 

I’ll keep you in the loop. This has been a new kind of exciting and fun to feel, see, and share. 

There Are No Morals in Politics  

Every day I see hateful posts, comments, videos, and opinions splattered on social media. 

We are feeding the wrong “wolf” – the media. We are dragging our own political party through the mud, while trying to shame the other side. We aren’t looking like intelligent, moral individuals. We look like kids screaming for their way. And look what that has gotten us: choose between Hillary or Trump? 

A moral individual would do reliable research on each candidate, focus on which candidate would push America forward, and see through the bull shit. 

So, Why is no one doing it? 

Because it’s easier to trash talk, share obscene posts and pictures, and look like an idiot than make an educated decision, and move forward to make a contribution to our country by your given talent. 

What if your talent can solve our problems with radical Islam attacking our country? 

What if you could design a plan to create and keep jobs in the US? 

What if you could figure out the best option for our illegal immigrants and how to move forward? 

What if you’re wasting your time complaining and you could be making a real difference in our country? 

Don’t get me wrong. Do get fired up with who is running to lead our country. Do your research. Share facts that are relevant and pertinent. 

But embellishing facts with your opinion only makes everyone sick and angry. 

Strive to inform, not convince. 

And please, we would probably be doing more good if we were all praying hard for America, sacrificing for America, and working for America’s good. That is how things get done. That is how we teach our children to move America forward. 

And we’d all probably start sleeping better at night.