Bitch. A Women’s Anthem courtesy of Meredith Brooks and Shelly Peiken

When my husband and his brother made the decision to partner and start the beer company I was pregnant with my third child Adalyn. If you have ever been pregnant or merely spent five minutes with a pregnant woman you know they are not the most emotionally stable people on the planet. FYI unless you like having things thrown at your head you don’t tell a pregnant women she is acting crazy. After the birth of my second child for some unknown reason my friends and family felt the need to share with me how mean and bitchy I was while pregnant. Even though they always made sure to point out that my mean nature was due to hormones, it really hurt my feelings. I made the mistake of trying to tell Kevin how hurt I was when a women I greatly admired and looked up to had mentioned out of the blue that I was a “real bitch” with my last pregnancy. I didn't even get a chance to tell him how it made me feel before he said “You were a mega bitch. I am glad it wasn’t just me and I was not the one to tell you that” No one wants to be called a bitch, except maybe a female dog. I couldn’t argue that I wasn't a bitch because I probably was, I just wanted someone else that was important in my life to validate to me that I wasn’t a bitch and that is not who I am now or before. When I found out that I was pregnant with Adalyn all I could think of in the back of my mind throughout the pregnancy was “don’t be a bitch , don’t be a bitch, don’t be a bitch” I would love to tell you that it worked…I was still a bitch and mega bitch the last week. Many women after having children go on a rollercoaster of emotions they have all these hormones making you cry one min. and laugh the next and you always feel on the verge of insanity. You find a way to just do enough to get done the things that life demands, but doing it without heart. I had breast fed my first two children for over a year. On month four with Adalyn I was struggling. I wasn’t struggling to produce milk. I had enough to feed a third world country. I was struggling because everything I did do was for someone else. I had people and these little creatures I created wanting and needing me and all I wanted to do was just crawl in my bed ,pull the blankets over my head and just sleep. My dream world was such a better place. In my dream world I could fly, be a movie star, and best of all 6 inches taller and rocking the body of a Victoria Secret model. My heart should have been filled with love, instead it was filled with guilt and sadness. I felt guilty for feeling guilty because I have friends who have lost babies, lost marriages, lost homes, and I had all that. I felt guilty for not wanting to breast feed for another 6 months . I felt guilty for not being the Mom I wanted to be. I felt guilty for going back to work. I didn’t feel like I had enough to give and even deserved to be loved. I didn’t know how to get out of this dark destructive place I found myself in. Kevin knew I was struggling and was supportive doing all he could to help me, but I was lost. It took my black lab Abby who had been by my side for the most important and worst moments of my life and my female friends to lift me back on my feet. They brushed me off, wiped away my tears, and gave me a swift kick in the ass.

My 15 year old lab despite the fact it took her a few seconds to stand up in the morning and spent more hours sleeping than awake was still always looking out and protecting me. Kevin was gone off brewing beer in northern VA for a few days and when Kevin was gone my sweet dog would lay outside my bedroom door. She usually slept in her bed in the living room. Abby was there to protect what she loved the most and guard it with her life. I got up in the wee hours of the morning after feeding the baby and on my way to the kitchen I passed my sweet lab laying outside my door and she looked up at me and laid her head back down it was in her brown eyes I saw the value in me. In her eyes I saw love. I sat down in the floor and put her head in my lap and stroked her soft ears that felt the same way as when she was a puppy. She just wanted to be with me I was hers . She was still with me at an age beyond what most large dogs live. She was still here for me because she knew I needed her. A thought hit me. It was like running smack into a something you didn’t see and falling on your ass and looking up to see what the hell got in your way and you see yourself . I was the reason I was not happy. My own feelings of guilt and taking off hand comments to mean more than what they were meant to be ,light hearted comment on women and how crazy they are pregnant, was causing my pain. A conversation with a dear friend the next day brought even more clarity of how irrational my thoughts had been when I was telling her about my guilt of not wanting to breast feed anymore. She said to me the following “Nikki Adalyn doesn’t love you because you stick a boob in her mouth”. Ahhh. The gray cloud that had been following me around seemed to blow away. She was right. My dog, my boys, my husband, my brother, my mom, my friends etc. loved me and wanted to be with me for me. I made the call to the doctor because I knew the funk I was in was do to hormonal imbalance and irrational overacting. I finally found the value in me and that I had three little souls that were a part of me. Anyone can do the basics and keep kids alive just like anyone can feed a dog. In order have life that is filled with love, laughter, respect, joy, and happiness you have to earn it by giving it. My dear sweet Abby went on to live another year to a point in my life and hers that we could let go of our physical bond. Love it never dies, just changes. I know Abby is around just like I know my Dad and others who I have left this world around because you can feel the love deep in your soul. That is what I pull from now when I run into myself now and fall on my ass. I look at life thru others perspectives and their eyes of love.

Umm forgetting something?

Missing the Beer Event

Tonight serves as a perfect example as to the hate part of my love hate relationship as a BW.   Thanks  to a wonderful boss I was able to keep my job and report to Atlanta once a month for unit meetings.  Let me tell you the grass is not greener on the other side.   I do love the perk of being able to wear Yoga pants daily, but there is a downside.   It is freaking lonely.   I have turned into one of those annoying people if you call me I will keep you on the phone talking way longer than necessary.    That being said you would think I would jump at the chance to go out.   Sadly that is not the case.  

Tonight Kevin is at a beer event at Tybee.  It is about a 50 min. drive from our house to the beer event.  Kevin already working down town and only 15 min away so he is just going to go over to the venue after work .   Now he did ask if I wanted to come.  It would be nice if all I had to do was just walk out the door and meet him.  I first I would have to try on 10 different outfits  not liking any of them and settling for the most comfortable one I can get away with wearing, then I would spend way too much time trying to curl my hair only to stick in a ponytail because it is so hot outside, then put on make-up while either body blocking a two year old from “helping” me with my make-up or having her scream and pound tiny fists on the bathroom door,  then I would have to make sure I get  all three  kids dinner, and make them put clothes on and either pack them up and send them to my Mother or have her come over.   Of course the kids would complain about whatever I would fix and pick on each other the entire time I am attempting to get ready.  I am  wore out before I ever leave the house and most likely late thus I would  have Kevin calling me on my cell asking where I was and how much longer until I got there.    Let’s not forget the fact I have no clue where I am going or how to get there.  This would then frustrate Kevin having to give me directions my toddler could follow, especially  since I have been to the place before just three years ago with him driving.   How could I not know where I am going?   There the evening and moods would just take a giant spiral downward.   Oh and I would not be able to drink since I drove.    AND that my friends is why I am not out with my husband tonight living it up, drinking some beer, and handing out koozies.  Instead I ordered a pizza, put cartoons on, letting the kids run wild, free, and naked around the house while I explain to you why I am not being Kevin’s trophy wife tonight.   The trophy part may be a tad stretching it, but it’s my world and I might as well be delusional.    I really should be doing something productive like the stack of dishes, mountain of laundry, or even remove the marker from my toddler’s hand that she just ran by waving in the air.  No thanks.   I have some paper plates(I hope),  still clean underwear left  and why buy the magic erasers if you don’t have toddler art to remove from walls?  I have my ghost  show to watch tonight “Dead Files”  and the entire new season of ” Drop Dead Diva” and “Glee” on NetFlix that is way more important than koozies, did I mention Kevin made a beer fridge with tap handles so I got the beer part covered.  I will just do all  the productive stuff tomorrow ….maybe.    

Remember Me

I wrote this poem for my Aunt Jojo

Remember Me

When the sun’s rays in their waning hours reflect the color of heaven in the sky

Remember Me

When the distant mountain tops are shrouded in a misty veil

Remember Me

When the bluebird sings out from his perch for all to hear

Remember Me

When the oceans waves kiss your toes and you can taste the salt in the air

Remember Me

Remember me with laughter

Remember me with scripture

Remember me only with tears of joy for I have found my way home

Birth of a Blog

I have started and deleted several starts trying to tell you about me and reason to start a blog.  It is not as easy  as you would think, but it has confirmed for me the title of the blog is perfect.   It seems more often then not when I venture out with my husband and friends I am often introduced to people  ….   “This is Nikki…”and  insert one of the following: 1. My wife  2. Kevin’s wife 3. Her husband makes this beer.  4. Her husband started a brewery.   The conversation then naturally progresses to talking about the beer and how Kevin got into the craft beer world.  

I have gained this new title to my life resume that I can add to my others:  Daughter, Sister, Aunt, Wife, Mom, Friend and Geologist.   My life resume has lost some great wonderful titles over the years such as, skinny, college student, party pal, and sex kitten.   I have mourned and moved on from the loss of them, well all but one I still pretend I have.   I have earned my adjective titles and wear them proudly   however,  I am currently in a love/hate  relationship with my new title of “Brewer’s Wife”. ……and so a new blog is born.    

 Kevin’s reaction to the “birth” of this blog is not much different than when he witnessed the birth of our three children.   First a look of total panic with an underlying verge of throwing up expression, followed by one of those what the “freak” smiles of gritted teeth, and ending with love and support.   Ok so the ending with love and support unlike the birth of our kids, it’s more of a reluctant support with love.   I will take reluctant support over the “you want to do what? Are you crazy?”  reactions that I often get to what I think are brilliant ideas.     I do have a very cute over the top Sponge Bob themed bathroom to prove sometimes reluctant support is all I need versus the reaction I got  when I wanted to put up the giant great white shark coming at you out of the wall sticker (or the T- Rex) one in the kids bathroom with what looked like a bloody shower curtain.   Like in most marriages your spouse is the one to balance you out with rational thoughts like “Do you really think that is the best idea for a kids bathroom?  Especially since we are trying to potty train a kid and actually want him to go into the bathroom”   Point taken.   Find the balance and we found Sponge Bob.  

I  struggle finding the Sponge Bob type balance in my life and it seems that the life balance scale is always slightly off balanced do to being the Brewer’s Wife.  I have limited time to actually do the things that I Nikki, want to do because of my responsibilities associated with all my current adjectives, therefore  I am taking this little spec on the  internet   to chronicle all the ups and downs of being The Brewer’s Wife and it’s a cheap form of therapy with delusions  helping me of regaining my identity.