Category Archives: Family



Grateful for the past 21 years. Looking forward to the future with you by my side. #happyanniversary #ilovemesomehim



Relaxing weekend getaway

A Mountain Getaway


The Hubby continues to amaze me with his love for new adventures. This past weekend we went on a mountain getaway.  We stayed at the Andon-Reid Bed & Breakfast Inn in Waynesville, NC.  This place is a little piece of heaven.  Check out the mountain view below:


Simply beautiful!

The innkeeper, Mark and Kari, are gracious hosts.  We were greeted like family home for a weekend visit.  We were given a tour of the renovated home, which mixes  modern conveniences like walk in showers with various antiques.  Kari made sure we knew about local restaurants for dinner and made a reservation for us.  We told them that we planned to ride the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad the next morning and Kari provided the best directions to get there (about 20-30 minutes away) and gave  us an interesting history lesson as well.  Breakfast was delicious and everything was made from scratch.

We had a wonderful weekend.  The town of Waynesville is a quaint little country town and everyone we interacted with was friendly.  The mountain air made for some relaxing sleep and Mark and Kari helped make the weekend memorable.  We met some interesting couples at the inn.  We even got an astrology lesson from one of the other guest as we sat around the fire pit one evening.

Hubby really outdid himself this time.  I loved our weekend in the mountains.  I hope to go back again.

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If you are planning a trip to the mountains, take my advice and stay at the Andon-Reid Bed and Breakfast.  You will be glad you did.



Parenting Sucks (Sometimes)!

Being a parent is ……

Laying awake listening for the door to open

Knowing you can’t truly rest until the other part of your heart returns

Being a parent is ……

Setting a curfew for your teenager

Knowing at some point that your child will test the limit and forget how to tell time

Being a parent is ……

Allowing your child to mess up

In the safe cocoon of your home

Hoping they learn how to be a responsible adult

By enforcing consequences for their actions

Being a parent is ……

Having faith in a higher being to protect your heart

And releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding

When you hear, “Mom, I’m home.”


2014 Michelle Rayford


My Daughter Got Her Navel Pierced so Why Does My Stomach Hurt?

Not a navel piercing.

Not a navel piercing.

My daughter, Princess, got her navel pierced about a month ago.  It’s taken this long to analyze my feelings about it.  Was I surprised?  Yes and no.  She has been rambling about wanting to get one for some time.

Princess:  “Mon, I think I want to get my navel pierced.”

Me:  “Why?”

P:  “I like them.”

M:  (again) “Why?”

P:  “I just do.”

Some variation of this conservation continued at random intervals for months.  And then she turned 18.  That means she didn’t need my permission to have it done.  Then she came  home with one.

Clip-on belly jewelry

Clip-on belly jewelry (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My reaction was mixed.  I  believe in giving my girls the confidence to make decisions about their own bodies once they reach a certain age.  They have to make decisions for themselves.  It can be as simple as considering a new hair cut or the complex decision of whether or not to have sex.  I tell them the decision is theirs.  It is not left up to peer pressure or to win the affection of some boy.  I want them to be comfortable in their own skins and learn to trust themselves.

I didn’t make a big deal about the piercing.  I told Princess I didn’t like it but it was her body.  I advised her to make sure to keep it clean.

The world kept spinning.  But I can’t help but  notice that my baby is growing up and inching closed to adulthood.  She is becoming more and more independent.  I am at times proud and terrified.


The other day Princess started a random conversation.

Princess:  “Mom, would you be mad if I got a tattoo?”

Me:  (deep breath)

Somebody pass me the antacid.



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