My official refusal of standardize testing or…

Standardize testing can SUCK IT!

A lot has happened since my last post way back in December, but today I’m just going to focus on a small victory for our family. The TCAP was this week. For those who don’t know, TCAP stands for “must take this test instead of being taught actually school work for an entire week and no, you won’t be learning for the rest of the school year despite there being a month left before the end of the year”… No, I don’t actually know what the letters stand for and that’s part of the problem. They administer these tests without knowing what is on them, without any proof that our students are better for them and without releasing a grade for them until it’s already too late to do anything about it. Those who took the TCAP this week will not receive their grades until sometime this summer, and won’t be told what they missed, just what the final score was.

I’m not a fan.

I can vividly remember the anxiety these test days produced in me as a child and I was only expected to take them during my 4th, 8th and 10th grades of schooling. Today’s children, in most states here in the U.S., are expected to take these tests every year from 3rd-8th grade, followed by End of Year Exams from 9th-12th grades. Some schools and districts have even begun to administer these tests as early as kindergarten in an attempt to get ahead of the curve and get as much test preparation in as possible before the kid is even old enough to read.

I’m not a fan.

This year would have been the first year Sissy was expected to sit for the TCAP here in Tennessee, but my husband and I decided at the beginning of the school year that she would not be sitting for this exam under any circumstances. I tried to not sign her up for a testing site. Didn’t work. I tried just not taking her to the testing site the first two days. I was met with multiple emails and phone calls. Then I wrote a letter…

I’m much more articulate in writing. After some editing from my husband (I tend to follow rabbit trails when I’m agitated), I replied back to the school psychologist, a woman who has NEVER met or spoken with or about my daughter, with the following email.

***NOTE: I did change names to maintain privacy. I’m not nearly this snarky normally… Well, yes I am, but that’s beside the point. When she sends me canned emails addressed to “Dear Learning Coach”, I really did want to reply with “Dear School Psychologist”, but my husband was against it. ***

“Dear School Psychologist,

I understand you are the contact person regarding testing arrangements for the TCAP this week. I understand your concern about my child, Sissy, being absent during the scheduled testing time. I assure you, she is just fine. I write this letter to inform you that she will continue to be absent for the duration of the week and will not be participating in any make-up tests scheduled on her behalf. My husband and I are fully aware of the state mandate on local school systems to administer the test, but in absence of a mandate upon my child to actually take said test, we are hereby exercising our right to refuse the TCAP on behalf of our daughter.

Based on the pillars of the 14th Amendment, and the Supreme Court rulings of Meyer v Nebraska (1923), and Pierce v Society of Sisters (1925), I exercise my Constitutional right as a citizen of the United States of America to take complete possession of my children, and to guide their education in a manner in which I see fit. As a taxpayer, I am entitled to the provision of public education for my children as outlined in the State of Tennessee Constitution. By proxy, my children also hold certain rights; among those, that they may not be denied the right to enter the school on testing days simply based on testing refusal, that they may not be discriminated against by denying them meaningful instruction or by placing them in isolation for hours on those testing days, and they may not be punished in any way for not participating in the standardized tests.

We do not believe standardized tests are an adequate measure of the true skills of students or teachers. They also do not measure skills that are needed to be “successful” in our current society (e.g., strong oral communication skills; ability to collaborate/cooperate with others; higher-level, hands-on problem solving skills; self-motivation; tenacity; long-term planning/goal-setting; independence; etc.). Further, as a child with both autism and ADHD, we do not feel the TCAP will be of any benefit to Sissy’s mental and emotion stability. It is a complete disruption to her therapy schedule, as well as the therapy schedule of her younger brother, who receives a district issued Individualized Education Plan (IEP) through the _____ School District. We believe our children’s private and public issued therapy comes before any government sanctioned event, which was a determining factor in us choosing Tennessee Virtual Academy for this school year. The therapy they receive is invaluable to their future success as individuals much more so than any bubble test could possibly measure.

In addition, Sissy lacks both the fine motor muscle endurance and the keyboarding skills to adequately complete either a written exam or a computer simulated test. This will not only prevent her from completing the test in a timely manner, but would reflect poorly on her final grade and on the assessment her school and teachers receive as a result. She would be made to feel “ignorant” because her disability limits the amount of time her hands can function in that capacity. Sissy gets stressed and agitated when she knows she is being timed. This has been witnessed on numerous occasions by her speech and occupational therapists. Sissy also suffers from physiological stress reactions. When she becomes agitated, stressed, or even excited, she throws up. This is a scenario neither of us wants to contend with, I’m sure. The testing site is also our home church here in “our town”. I will not have the state turn her beloved place of worship, fellowship, and fun into a place of anxiety and stress.

We also do not feel her grade on a standardized test is a fair assessment of the teachers she has worked with this school year. Her teachers pay, license, or merit should not depend on MY ability to convey the concepts of each subject to Sissy in a manner such that she would learn and thrive. As an online public school, I am the main source of Sissy’s learning, not a tax payer funded school or teacher. The manner in which the materials are relayed and the amount of information Sissy has retained this year is a direct reflection on my ability to know how to convey such information to Sissy, not on a teacher she speaks with for a few minutes several times a week. It is unjust for our state legislature to tie teacher pay, license and merit to my abilities to understand and communicate with my own child.

In your email to me this week regarding Sissy’s absence from the TCAP administration test site, you made the statement:
“This is a state-mandated assessment, and it is part of your student’s final grade. Students who do not attend the TCAP may be withdrawn from Tennessee Virtual Academy.”

Again, I understand that the TCAP is under mandatory administration, meaning you have to provide the test; we do not have to take it. I understand that should you feel the need to do so, state law allows you to punish Sissy by 15-25% of her final grade as a result of MY choice in her educational path, regardless of the sentiments of the Supreme Court on the matter of parental involvement. I also understand that you could easily change the status of our family to “failure to comply”, which could result in our immediate withdrawal from Tennessee Virtual Academy. If this is the path you choose, I want you to understand this will not force our hand and we will not submit to veiled threats against our child’s education. The state law in Tennessee does not require independent homeschool students to submit to standardize testing during the third grade year. State law only requires homeschool students, who are not schooled under a church-related school program, to participate in district-wide standardize testing during grades 5, 7 and 9. Regardless of where Sissy is registered as a student, either with TNVA or as an independent homeschool student, she will NOT be taking the TCAP this year.

I only wish to be an active participant in my daughter’s education and in doing so, I exercise my right to have a say in regards to the measurement of her academic achievement and “success”.

Thank you for your time. Should you feel the need to discuss this any further, I can be reached primarily by e-mail at “here” or possibly by cell phone, schedule permitting, at “here”.

Mrs. Rainshadow Noba”

I never got a response.


September 11, 2013

I know it’s late, but that’s how I roll…

September 11, 2001:

I sat in my therapists office as he railed on about worry and fear, telling me: “don’t worry about yesterday, its in the past and you can’t change it. Don’t worry about tomorrow, it isn’t here. Focus on today only.”

I’ve often joked about how my life could have been so different if I had actually taken his advice and focused on “today only”. My young, impressionable mind could have become royally obsessed with the Towers, the airplanes, the people.

Instead, I still fear the past, I still worry about the future and I can’t relax today. Instead, it took me years to process what I’d see and heard that day. The conflicting actions of the people in my life who were supposed to help me through it. Viewing that much hate and that much love and still so much indifference all in a span of a few hours left me with a lot of confusion.

Even further down the years, I’m married to a soldier. He’s fought in the wars that started that day, as has his older brother and so many other men and women. Not all of them come home. When you look at the death counts (a phrase that shouldn’t even exist), do you just count those in the Towers, the ones in the airplanes and the ones in the Pentagon? Or do you remember that so many more have died as a result of that day? Each soldier, contractor, or civilian who has died in the wars of Iraq and Afghanistan has died because of what happened September 11, 2001.

Let’s remember this, when we look at other war-torn nations and think we can help. Decades ago, we thought we could help. Today, we mark the anniversary of the day that help bit us in the ass.

Let’s remember those who lost their lives because our government focused too much on today and not enough about our future. Let’s remember those people who lost their lives because a small group of anti-Americans decided a plane would make a great weapon of mass destruction. Let’s remember the soldiers who have lost their lives taking the fight to another country, so our children can grow up without seeing bodies in the streets or living in fear of being murdered in their sleep as a message to the town.

Let’s remember.

Rainbows and Unicorns

This is a difficult topic for me, explaining for my absence while I sort through it all. My husband returned from Afghanistan nearly two months ago and it hasn’t been like you see on TV. It’s not been like the other wives talk about. That running across the room, jumping into each others arms, crying real tears of joy and not letting go. That pure, ecstatic joy that you just can’t control. I want one thing clear before I go any further:

I love my husband. I do now, and always have, love him with all that I am. The thought of not having him in my life everyday kills me.

I just don’t always feel it. When my daughter was born, she was a complete stranger. I didn’t know her, so I couldn’t love her in that mystical way mother’s often describe. There was no instant bond. I had to learn to love her and who she was (and is) growing to become. The way she sucks her finger when she’s nervous. The way she takes showers so she doesn’t have to sit in the bath water. The height of her laughter and her ability to make checks with stripes work magnificently. I had to learn to love her. Taking this pressure off myself when my son was born, knowing I wouldn’t feel that “magical bond” with him, actually made bonding with him a lot easier. I put too much pressure on myself and I always fail.

This is what I did at homecoming. Every homecoming is different. You’ve got the couples that can’t wait to run down the stairs and jump into each others arms and kiss like nobody else exists and the world has stopped spinning just for them. You’ve got the couples who are quietly holding each other in the middle of the chaos, just standing there, silently thankful for answered prayers. You’ve got the couples who are loudly screaming and yelling and jumping around like tailgaters at the Super Bowl after a touchdown, and they don’t care who is around. You’ve got the wives who brought large signs. Babies who’ve never met their father. Children and parents running to their family member, their soldier, their hero. It’s very overwhelming for people like me…

It puts a lot of pressure to feel what they feel, to express those feelings the way that they do, try to find balance and not fall.

I chose to stand at the top of the bleachers waving my arms like a mad woman with the kids on the steps in front of me doing the same. It still took him a minute to find us, but it was worth it. The hard part is that I felt very little for my husband in that moment. There was no “heart knowledge” of the love we have shared for the past seven and a half years. I know in my head that I love him very much, but in that moment, he was a stranger. I was more excited to see him with the kids. Holding them, kissing them, just talking to them. I didn’t care to talk to him myself. Holding him, kissing his face, none of that mattered to me. My children had their father and that is all that mattered. I put pressure on myself and I failed. I expected something different than I had experienced before and I shouldn’t have.

To put this into perspective, since I got married in November 2005, I have seen my mother for a total of 14 days. Three days when my daughter was born in 2006. One week when my sister graduated high school in May 2006. Four days when Little Brother was nearly two, in 2011. I feel very little love towards my mother. In fact, if not for her being my mother, I’m not sure I’d ever have contact with her. When I don’t have constant contact with someone in a meaningful way, I lose my ability to genuinely care for them. This is what happened during the deployment. Nine months of my breath catching when the doorbell rang. Nine months of my blood going cold when an unfamiliar car appeared in my driveway. Nine months of stealing myself for the worst, remaining brave for the kids and putting on a happy face… Nine months of building a wall around my heart to protect myself from the worst outcome possible…

That’s not an easy thing to tear down.

We’ve been working on it since he got home, but in those first few days it was like living with a stranger. We had both changed so much and neither of us knew what to really expect. Nothing seemed to be going right. In the past few weeks, there have been long nights, intimate discussions, and a lot of tears. Old hurts are finally starting to heal and we are coming together as a couple again. It should be romantic. The idea of “falling in love” all over again. In truth, it sucks and it hurts. This is my husband. He is the father of my children. I should have the heart knowledge of love for him. I should feel it after having him gone for so long, but I think I’m expecting too much of myself at this point. The “head knowledge” is there. I know there is no one else I would rather be with. There will never be anyone else. I’ve just got to take the time for my heart to catch up.

Hopefully, with old hurts beginning to heal, this will allow us to come together more fully and allow us to become more vulnerable with each other and that will help bridge that gap between the head and the heart. Some days are easier than others. He’ll do something or say something and all I feel is love. Other days, I truly struggle with the man beside me. The man that has promised to always stand beside me. The man that I promised to always stand beside.

We aren’t standing still anymore. We’ve moved. The ground beneath us has shifted and we are struggling to find where that leaves us once the ground goes still again.

For nine months, the ground shifted, twisted, and turned under our feet. For nine months, we were on different planets, shifting and twisting and turning in different ways. We’ve had two months to work on us. We’ve had some really horrible moments… We’ve had some really great times…

It’s called Marriage.

A really long day

I know today is April 1st. This means that I should be starting a 30 Day Drawing Challenge with some fellow bloggers. This also means, I’m supposed to start my re-release of my “30 Days with Autism” blog series, in hopes that the third year is the year I finish it.


My cat died this morning.

It was not uncommon for Bellatrix LeStrange to go days, or even a week or more, without eating. She did this several times a year and was always okay. Not this time.

The kids have been obsessed with weighing and measuring things lately, so they naturally moved on to “How much does Bella weigh?” when they tired of weighing themselves and each other.

She was around eight pounds two weeks ago.

She was just 4 pounds this past weekend.

My cat literally starved herself to death. For no reason I can find, Bellatrix stopped eating about ten days ago. I had just refilled her food dish and she wouldn’t touch it. After a few days, it seems she also gave up on drinking water. Again, this was not uncommon and she’d done it many times over the four and a half years we had her. She was always fine. This past weekend, when I had taken note of the weight she’d lost, I began to cry out for help.

I texted my mother, my friends with cats, I even took to a group of Army wives on Facebook. We gave her chicken (boiled and raw), salmon, cat food, cat treats, milk, water, I even scrubbed her bowl out to make sure there was nothing on it that might be effecting her appetite. She wouldn’t touch any of it. She had been using the litter box, so she must have at least been drinking some water.

With Spring Break over, the kids were off to school this morning, bright and early. We were running a few minutes behind, but I decided to check on her before we left. I could see she wasn’t breathing. I didn’t need to touch her to know her body was rigid. I barely touched her fur to feel the chill on her body. I began to cry, but not sob. That comes later, when the kids aren’t around. I ushered them into the car without a word to suggest anything was wrong. I was still crying and Little Brother asked if I was sad. I told him I was crying because I was just so very tired from Spring Break and I took them to school.

I was able to hold it together for about 45 minutes. Long enough to get through speech therapy and put in the money for our Autism Walk T-shirt order. I went home and sobbed. I cried hard and ugly sobs. I feel like I cried for hours, that’s probably because I did. My friends, my husband, nobody knew what to say. I dug the hole in our backyard by myself for a while. Got it nearly eighteen inches deep before the panic and the stress and the tunnel vision got the better of me and I almost threw up right there in the yard.

I had a brief snack and then had to get Sissy from school. Watching her bound out of the building and run to me with a huge smile on her face, I couldn’t help but think, “I’m about to destroy her perfect little world.”

She took it better than I thought she would. Getting emotional a few times, but handling it with her classic optimism. A friend and her family came over to help us. Her husband finished the hole in the backyard while we tended to the children inside. I took each of them aside and explained it. For Sissy, I explained that now Papa (my late father-in-law) would have a friend in Heaven now. For Little Brother, I told him that Bellatrix had to go fight the dragons and that she would be gone forever. He replied, “But she doesn’t have a sword?” True to form, Little Brother is my own personal comic relief.

I took the cat outside, bound in a towel and three layers of bags, wrapped in a paper bag so the kids wouldn’t have to see her like that. We, Sissy and I, went out back and said a prayer over the cat. Then together we shoveled the dirt back into the hole and went back inside.

My friend was still here, and the kids played for a bit, then I took everyone out to dinner. I needed to be with people and have something positive today. We spent quite a bit of money, but the fun, friends and good time were worth it. I don’t have a lot of friends, but the ones I do have are worth their weight in the most precious rubies.

So my beautiful kitty is gone, my husband isn’t here to comfort me and I’ve been crying literally since 8:15 this morning…

I will double post tomorrow all the good stuff that April has in store for me and you, but for tonight, I leave it here.

RIP my dear sweet kitty.
August 2008-Easter 2013

This was taken last week. I was trying to get her to drink water in the kitchen, she was more interested in watching the water circle down the drain.

This was taken last week. I was trying to get her to drink water in the kitchen, she was more interested in watching the water circle down the drain.

Deployment Gnome Strikes Again

Funny how a few days ago I was thankful for the deployment, because now it’s back to pissing me off and this time it has very little to do with my husband being in a war zone. On Thursday last week, the local school district put out the dates for the “Preschool Round Up”, which is the day and time you bring your pre-assembled packet to the school you’re hoping your child will get accepted into for the following preschool year. Did I mention this is for PUBLIC preschool, not private? That’s right, there is an application process to get into the preschool program at the school my daughter already attends and my son is receiving speech services at. So I asked the typical questions, “Is an LES a valid form of income verification or do we need that in addition to the other two forms you require?” (because the LES is MANDATORY for children of service members) and “Will or how will placement effect my son’s IEP services if he is sent to a school other than the one currently administering services?” (FYI: We live in walking distance to the kids current school, but my son may still be sent to a school 20 minutes drive away because of the way the preschools are funded at the different PUBLIC schools in our county, ain’t it grand?)

My questions were met with “Here’s the number to the preschool coordinator, contact her with your questions.”

Well, thanks Mr School Board Man for not knowing how your own programs are run.

I emailed the woman, I will call “Ma’am”, though personally, I’d much rather call her a much less nice name at the moment. This is the email I sent to her:


My son has an IEP that is being applied and monitored by (You Study Here) school staff, twice a week. How will pre-k placement (or lack there of) effect his IEP status? My daughter is a student at (You Study Here) but my son only receives services there. Will pre-k placement effect where and how he receives his services?
Also, we are a military family. My husband is currently deployed to Afghanistan and wont return until AFTER the application date. Since his deployment status alters his LES, will these changes effect our son’s application? Is the LES considered a Verification of Income, or is it required in addition to two other forms of verification? What forms of verification would you recommend for a family, like mine, that lives on the single income of the Active Duty Soldier?
I am very confused about all of this, having never gone through a process in which we had to apply for school. Any assistance you could offer would be much appreciated. I am able to provide all documents pertaining to my son’s date of birth and residency status, as well as immunizations and proof of physical. I am just very confused about the Verification of Income aspects of the application process.
Thank you for your time. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Mrs. R. Noba”
Straight forward, right? I have concerns, I’m being nice and polite. I’m seriously confused because when my daughter went through this process, she was evaluated by an IEP team who put her in Kindergarten at the age of 4. This is our first experience with preschool at all.
So that was Thursday and we had a “bad weather day” on Friday, so I didn’t get a response back until this morning. This is what she writes back:
“Good Morning,
First priority is given only to the economically disadvantaged, a mandate from the D.O.E. Other criteria are considered only if space is still available after placement of this specific group.
We must have proof of the household gross income, if your sole income is your husband’s then the LES is one and a W2 or 1040 would be the second.
Okay, well, I guess that sort of answered my question. But no, it didn’t. She never answered any questions about the IEP at all, but at least, I only need an LES and a W2 for his packet. Now I just need my husband to email those from Afghanistan, at his earliest convenience and all will be right with the world… But wait? He’s deployed. The LES changes when that happens… More questions = one more email.
I reply back:
“Good Morning, Ma’am:My next question is kind of odd, but which parts of the LES are used for determination? I ask because my husband is deployed right now and will be until this summer. As such, his LES is not reflecting typical income when he is stateside and I’m concerned that the current LES would disqualify us because of the allotments and entitlements that we receive while my husband is in a combat zone that we don’t get while he is home. This is creating a lot of confusion for us during this process and we want to be able to have a back up plan in place in the event that our current predicament disqualifies our son from free public education during the preschool year.
Any light you can shed on this matter would be greatly appreciated. I’m sure you can understand the confusion and uncertainty for us.
Thank you for your time,

Mrs. R. Noba”
You with me so far. No address has been made to the IEP related questions and now we’re to the point where I’m worried the LES could keep my son from having a FREE PUBLIC EDUCATION.
Several hours go by and I get this response:
“When looking at the LES, all monies coming into the household is included, so  deployment pay is included.”
Excuse me? So regardless of the fact that my husband will be returning BEFORE the start of the next school year and ALL of those allotments and entitlements will be revoked as soon as he gets on the plane to come home, you’re still going to use them against us when reviewing my son’s registration packet? I’m having huge issues with this. The federal government doesn’t tax my husband’s base pay while deployed, add to that the combat pay, the hazardous duty location pay, and whatever else they are tacking on, we’re bringing in over $1000 MORE than we do when he’s stateside. We live paycheck to paycheck while he’s here. Since he’s been gone, after bills are paid, I’m supporting myself and the kids on $600 a month. (I give myself $300 a paycheck, the rest goes to pay down debt, like our credit cards and my SUV.)
So I send another email, that I admit, probably could have been less biting, but I’m pissed and the fact that I’m still calling her “Ma’am” at this point is a huge restraint on my part.
“So despite the fact that we will be bringing in maybe half that by the time school starts, my son could be disqualified because my husband is in Afghanistan. Thank you for answering my questions. I guess we’ll hope for the best but also start looking into whether or not we will be able to afford private preschool.
Mrs. R. Noba”

I haven’t gotten a response back. I don’t think I will. At this point, I began looking up preschools in our city and did you know the average tuition at a 4-yr state university can actually be LESS than what you could be paying in preschool tuition? The prices for preschools in our area ranges from “OUCH!” to “OMGWTF!?!?!?!” (not kidding, the lowest is still over $2000 a year and one school was topping over 7K for preschool, just in tuition. That’s not including all the other random things they nickle and dime you for.)

I hate this. It’s bad enough my husband is in a war zone fighting to make sure our country stays safe, but once again our family is being punished because he’s gone. It’s not like he had a choice whether to leave or not. It’s not like he’s on vacation. And now, he has to worry about shelling out thousands of dollars in tuition because the public school system has policies that are ill equipped to deal with the transitions from deployment to non-deployed. I hate this. I’m pissed off, stressed out, discouraged and if I had that kind of money to throw down on tuition, I wouldn’t have dropped out of college for the third time this past fall. We aren’t exactly swimming in cash, half the time our heads are barely above water and they’ve just handed us another rock and told us to “Swim faster against that current”…

So while my husband is defending our country, I can’t even get my son into a PUBLIC elementary school preschool program…
That Gnome is probably laughing his ass off right now, but if I find him, I’m gonna wring his stupid little neck!

Thankful Thursday: Jan 17, 2013

Letter to a Deployed Husband, Part Two:


My Dearest Soldier,


That’s the number of days since the last time you held me in your arms.

That’s the number of days until the next time you will hold me again.

That’s the number of days since the last time I held you close and kissed you fiercely.

That’s the number of days until I will kiss you once again.


The number of days since the kids said “See you soon”.

The number of days until the kids say “Hello”.

The number of days since I drove home in the dark through tears.

The number of days until I drive home with you by my side, through more tears.


The number of days since I made a bad joke and we both laughed hard.

The number of days until the laughter returns.

The number of days since the last time I looked into your eyes and told you “I love you”.

The number of days until I can whisper those sweet words to you again.


It is so hard to believe that we have made it this far without you. It’s still difficult day to day. It doesn’t get easier to go on without you, just easier to find acceptable distractions. We are halfway there, my love. You are halfway home.

My darling husband, my best friend, you are very loved and very missed.

Just keep breathing and we’ll see you soon, my love.

Forever Yours, Forever Waiting.


Today, I am thankful for the days. The days that have passed. The days still to come. I have learned a lot about myself so far. I have learned a lot about my husband. There is much strength, much love and much patience that has passed. There is much more strength, much more love, and much more patience to be had. We are halfway there. 135 days since I last saw, touched, smelled my husband. 135 until I can do so again.

My husband is halfway home.

29 Things: #26

26. Buy “embarrassing” lingerie and actually wear it. Wear it again in front of the husband. (There will be no pictures on the wearing, there may be pictures of the buying. FYI, almost all lingerie is embarrassing, we really only wear it because we think our husband’s will like it.)

Well folks, I completed the first part without hesitation. I bought “embarrassing” lingerie.

Just an FYI, if you open a package from a lingerie company, pull an article from the bag and the first thing that pops into your mind is “Well THAT wasn’t part of the description!?!” the “embarrassing” lingerie just because unwearable.

I also would love to know why Frederick’s of Hollywood sends their items in what looks like a giant condom wrapper. Seriously?! Take a look at the photo, if you don’t know what a condom is, I suggest you go talk to an adult. If you are an adult, talk to a doctor. With a proper sized dowel, you could make a giant lollipop out of this.

I was fully expecting a box not this.

I was fully expecting a box not this.

I don’t really understand the fascination with skimpy underwear and bras that effectively aren’t bras. I have never understood what makes these items “sexy”. When most men agree that a girl who leaves “a little to the imagination” is more sexy than a girl who is flaunting her “goodies”, I can’t wrap my head around these “goodie flaunting” under garments that leave NOTHING to the imagination and often show WAY more than any normal woman is comfortable showing.

The wearing it part is gonna take a lot more courage. I did try on a few pieces and OH MY GOSH, I don’t see how that is supposed to be flattering at all! But a promise is a promise. I will do everything I can to make it work and to be confident and sexy in these oh so embarrassing items when my husband gets back.

Just taking one for the team on this I guess. But man, does he owe me big lol

For the rest of the list and an awesome Doctor Who inspired birthday cake, click here.

(Side Note: I am deliberately leaving out a link to the FOH website. There are too many people out there who struggle with lust and emotional adultery for me to say “Find it here!” with a brightly colored hyperlink. If you’re going to do that, you’re going to do it without my help.)