Monday, June 7, 2021

Taking control of my health...


In less than a year, I'll be 40 years old... That number freaks me out so much, it's actually suffocating... And, it's not for a surface reason, like, I'm just getting older - Instead, my younger years are now behind me and I'm on the downslope to life. And, let's face it, I'm a child of the 1980s and that means, I haven't taken care of myself... At all.

My childhood and teens consisted of drinking Shasta soda out of a can, as young as 2 years old. Consuming poptarts, pizza rolls, and frozen TV dinners. And, eating Taco Bell and Dominoes Pizza after midnight... My diet was either processed foods, genetically modified, and had so many dyes in them, that Crayola would be jealous.

And, sometimes I wouldn't eat a fruit or vegetable for 6 months...

Oh, and we microwaved everything...

I used aluminum deodorants, sulfates and parabens in my shampoos, and lathering myself with liquid soap that only a chemist could decipher the ingredients - but gosh, it smelled so pretty!

I have all my vaccines, took antibiotics every time I had a sniffle, and popped ibuprofen consistently for 4 years during field hockey, due to my stress fractures and shin splints...

We grew up in a time where food was instant and hygiene and self care products were more about flare, rather than health.

I mean, cereal was thought to be a health food...

As I aged, I realized so much of what I was putting in my body and on my body was contributing to my declining health...

After doctor appointments and testing, I am rolling in the rest of this year, and eternity, with a new lifestyle...

2021 will signify growth and new beginnings, as it has for so many others...

My last hair dye was right before Christmas 2020. And, I recently have been gluten-free (1 month) and vegetarian (3 months). And, I'm trying so hard to be dairy free - But, this one seems to be my Everest... I no longer eat processed, prepackaged foods, or anything with dyes in it.

I've also made changes along the way, like, I haven't used a microwave and stopped using non stick pans about 11 years ago. I haven't used foil or plastic in about 5 years. And, hygiene and self care products were already switched to organic or homemade items. And, I've never worn make up, so that was simple👍

My children have eaten this way and lived this way since birth - It was just really hard for me to convert - I mean, poptarts are the greatest tasting thing ever! But, I couldn't continue down that road, living the Western lifestyle, as long as I have...

40 is going to be a celebration, not a fearful time that my life is deteriorating. By that time, hopefully all my ailments will be non-existent and the thought of reaching 95 years old, will feel obtainable...

Because, we know so much more now, than we ever did years prior. We know that the Western lifestyle is the unhealthiest. We know that America has the lowest standards when it comes to our food supply. We know that our mindset is to take medications for ailments, so we can continue living the same lifestyle, without ever changing anything.

We've become so accustomed to this... But, food should be nurturing, not causing distress.

We shouldn't be feeling so sick, achy, bloated, uncomfortable, etc, all the time.

We should be thriving...

And, that's how I'm going to live the next half of my life ❤

How many of you fit into this category?

**Disclaimer: This post is about my experience... The information provided, is what my doctor recommended for me to do. This post is not intended to treat, diagnosis, or offer advice with what you should be doing with your life. This is only written from my viewpoint, about myself.**
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Follow me on Instagram @the_happy_days for daily posts and videos in my stories.

Tuesday, June 1, 2021

How did this become mom shaming?




Since when did voicing a different parental opinion become mom shaming?

How did this begin?

And, the crazy part is, it's only mom shaming when you disagree with the norm...

In a mom group, a mom asked about letting her baby cry it out - she wanted advice... Of course, she was met with a lot of people giving her options and pointers... Because, let's face it, crying it out is the standard norm for parenting... So, at no point would anyone think that by saying you agree with crying it out, that would be mom shaming towards someone who didn't agree with it...

But alas, there were moms who wrote their distaste for crying it out... They wrote why they felt it was harmful and why they were against it...

Well, would you guess the moderators turned off the comments for that post. And, a separate post was written about how disappointed they were in the group because of the judgemental mom shaming... Like we were being scolded at - like children.

But, why were only the ones who didn't agree with crying it out get called the mom shamers? Why were they the only ones listed as being judgemental? Why not the ones who voiced their strong opinions on why they liked it? Why weren't they considered judgemental towards the ones who disagreed?

I'll tell you why...

Because, any type of peaceful/respectful parenting is too progressive and makes people uncomfortable. Then, mob mentality takes over and people join in with the norm... And, if more percentage of people believe one thing, then that's the gold standard and anything else is wrong.

How about this... I always get mom shamed for my parenting, but I'm not allowed to say it... Before I weeded out my personal page, I used to get shamed for posting our adventures and simple fun we would have... I was told that I spend too much time with my kids. Or, I should figure out a better balance between my life and my kids. That I was weird. I needed to find a hobby... etc... I was even told that my posts and blog writings made a mom feel like she was a bad parent and I should stop posting so much.

If I ever mentioned that was considered shaming, I'd be told to get over myself - It's not the same thing.

How is that ok?

Well, society deemed it ok because as parents, we're all supposed to be a hot mess and drink our wine and pray for bedtime and then go on social media and talk negatively about our children... And, if you don't fit into that box, then you're shaming the ones who do.

But, if you have your life together and enjoy your children, you're shaming the ones who don't have their life together.

And, posting all these positive things, are making other people feel bad, so you should stop.

However, at no point, are we allowed to say that we're being shamed by them...

Do you understand any of this?
No, you don't?🤔

It's because there is no logic and it's annoying and ignorant and should be stopped...

Parent however you want. But understand that there are right and wrong things. Understand that there are things better for children, than not. Understand that science actually supports that crying it out is harmful - however, society does it because, life is so demanding that parents feel they have to do it.

Do whatever you want... But don't call it shaming because, you didn't hear what you wanted hear.


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Monday, April 26, 2021

Being fearless and driven go a long way...



This girl is fearless and driven... Traits I never even dreamed of having at only 10 years old... She knows exactly what she wants and how to get there. And, the kicker is, she has a back up plan if none of it manifests... What 10 year old has a career back up plan?

She's an old soul - she's not 10 going on 16. Instead, she's 10 going on 30. She just looks at the world differently, than most children her age... I think that's why she had difficulty in school with kids her age - she can't relate to them - Instead, she'd rather be in a room full of adults, than 10/11 year olds any day.

Since she was little, she has always said she wanted to be a singer (Seeing that she was already speaking sentences by her first birthday - she already memorized and knew the melody of every nursery rhyme song and cartoon musical intro by 18 months old). When she would tell me this, I'd shrug it off and say, "that's awesome girlie." And move on, never thinking much of it... I mean, every kid says they want to be a singer, a princess, an astronaut, etc. But eventually, it fades.

For her, it just dug deeper.

She felt the music within her soul. And, it was calling out to her...

She answered it by entering into competitions at only 6 years old - and winning. She answered it by enrolling in theatre - where she also found a love for acting, too. And, she answered it by auditioning for a professional vocal coach to increase her likelihood of success...

Every stage she steps on, is a step closer to the life she wants. Each performance is a learning experience and a chance for her to work out the kinks, before the bigger picture emerges... Sure, she loves winning trophies and medals, but one day, she hopes to sell out Madison Square Garden. And, these performances are the practice she needs to achieve her goal.

This weekend was the first time she performed in over a year. She was nervous, yet confident. And, when she stepped out onto that stage, you'd never know the nerves she felt in the wings...

She amazes me with her courage. And, I feel so lucky to watch her bloom.

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Sunday, March 21, 2021

Don't teach your daughter that abuse is a sign of love...


"Never tell your daughter that when a boy is mean or rude to her, it's because he has a crush on her. Don't teach her that abuse is a sign of love."

This actually happened to my daughter when she was in public elementary... My daughter was pushed down by a boy at recess - she had elbow and knee scrapes to the point that she was bandaged up.

I never received a call or anything.

At pick up, I saw this and immediately asked, "what the heck happened!" Because, I was that shocked... She told me, a boy pushed her down at recess and when she told the teacher, the boy didn't get yelled at. Instead, the teacher told her that he probably likes her, because "boys do things like that, when they like girls." And, that was the end of the conversation... My daughter said, the teacher made her feel like she did something wrong.

I quickly turned the car around and drove right to the office to seek out this teacher... I came in hot and vented to the office staff, who were very taken back by the teacher's actions... I reiterated how it's not the teacher's place to offer advice on a topic that doesn't involve her. That, the teacher's sole job was to make sure my daughter was ok. Not to make her feel like she did something wrong and just point her to the direction of the nurse's office... And, I did state that it's perfectly ok if she wants to raise her children to believe this old world notion, but I refuse to teach either of my children this logic - especially, my daughter...

Ironically, it just so happened that the teacher in question was standing in the back of the office and heard the whole thing. She looked as if she wanted to crawl into a hole to hide. She slowly sauntered over and started to apologize. But, I didn't want to hear her apology - I just wanted her to understand her place as a teacher - and, it's not to share her moral objectives to her students.

These things will continue to happen to our children, until adults take a stand and stop it. These old world ideals will eventually change, only when adults start respecting children and treating them like they're humans - not second rate citizens.

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Saturday, March 13, 2021

The one year anniversary of the Pandemic... A mother's story.

Disclaimer: This article is about my experiences and they may be very different than yours... I live in a small town, in a rural area, so we never had the numbers that other areas had. I'm grateful for all the workers in the Health industry who fought tirelessly everyday, around the clock. I understand some of you had to sacrifice time with your own family, to keep them safe. And, I'm also grateful to all the essential workers who kept up our supplies and kept the world running... I'm thankful for all of you...  


A year ago today, all of our lives were forever changed... The weeks leading up to this day, I sat glued in front of the television screen, as we all collectively watched COVID spread across the world and ultimately ending in our home towns.

A year ago today, I stood outside of my son's school, awaiting pick-up, as I received a robo call that still haunts me to this day... It read: School is closed until further notice...

It felt like an opening scene in an apocalyptic movie.

Last March, we cut ourselves off from the rest of the world, until almost June. I made a decision that I felt most comfortable with - And, I did what I felt was right, with the information I had.

It was scary... And no one really knew what was going on from one day to the next. Doctors, hospitals, administrators, CDC, the WHO, no one knew how to help all these sick people... So, mama bear kicked in and I took control of an uncontrollable situation and made the decision to keep us safe the only way I knew how -- keeping us together.

Our State of Emergency officially begun that Monday, March 16, 2020. That Monday, everything non-essential was shut down... Scene two, of an apocalyptic movie... With no where to go and not wanting to leave, I quickly fell into this trap of watching the News around the clock. Those first few days, I flinched every time a notification beeped through my phone. I begun to feel so much fear from the chaos - There was just so much death being shown... The uncertainty was excruciating... Our weather was still cold and the sun stayed hidden among the clouds... It was so easy to stay in that fear - to stay in that mindset... Because, the unknown is just so frightening...

But, like a switch, I suddenly decided to shut off the TV and disconnect my notifications on my phone. I decided, if we were going to stay in this bubble, it would be memorable... In that moment, I decided we were going to live, instead of falling into this seclusion and succumb to fear.

So, we lived... Every day...

The thought occurred to me that decades from now, this pandemic will always be spoken about. It will be taught in History classes, just like the Plague and Spanish Flu. This pandemic will live on for generations... So, I wanted my children to have a happy memory. I wanted to close them off from all the darkness that was happening around them, and leave them with memories of sunshine and happiness...

A year later, so many adults and children are suffering from depression and anxieties. Kids are under tremendous pressure from schools. And, parents are left feeling that their children are behind - And children are feeling like they're failing...

This was something I didn't want to manifest with my children... But, thankfully were already homeschooled. So, the transition was flawless and we even incorporated lessons into our outdoor days. However, school work wasn't the focus... I wanted to make sure their mental health was the priority.

As this anniversary approached, my daughter spoke so much of all the events leading up to this time. She had just landed a leading role in her community theatre, she was flourishing in homeschool, and she just entered this cool rhythm where she was attending her in-person specials at her old school with her friends... 

When she speaks of the lockdown, she remembers it as such a joyous time. She talks about our long walks and our outdoor adventures. She reminisces of staying up late and video chatting with friends. She remembers only the good of that time... 

And, the time flew!

My children remember walking through the woods in our PJs and having lunch on a log, while laughing because a piece of cheese fell onto the leaves below. They remember our patio fires at 2:00 pm on a Tuesday and eating dinner on a blanket. They remember our walks and hanging out for hours in a cemetery, just to make sure we steered clear of other people who were out and about. 











I think they remember most of all, a time where anything was fair game and expectations were limited... We literally had no where to go and nothing to do.

But, what brings me joy is, my children never talk about the pandemic as being more than just an concept. They never had any fear or stress. I did, everyday. But, that wasn't their weight to carry... And, hearing them speak about how much they enjoyed that time being together was honestly one of my proudest parenting moments. Because, in the end, they only saw the good. They never felt what I was feeling on the inside.

We as parents, have this innate instinct to protect our children. I'm just so grateful I had the opportunity to do it.

Not one of us knew how to navigate parenting during a pandemic... How would we? It wasn't like there was a, "What To Expect, While There Is A Natural Disaster," book out there... We all did what we could, to keep our families safe. Some of us had an easier time in seclusion. While others did not. We were lucky to discover that we do wonderfully together... And, I'm grateful we had the means to do it.

A year later, I count my blessings that we are not only physically healthy, but mentally healthy as well. I'm grateful that I am a stay at home mom where my children are my only responsibility... And, my heart breaks for those who had to juggle it all, while still trying to stay safe.

Years from now, we all get to tell our story... Each one of us have an individual story that is tailored to our own personal experience during that time... And, when my children tell theirs, it won't be about a pandemic where hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives or their livelihoods. Instead, thankfully, they can tell a calming story about love and peace... A time when life slowed down and we literally stopped to smell the roses. How a normal chaotic life, led to a moment in time where you could sit in a field and feel the sun against your skin. 

There is so much darkness and sadness in this world on any occasion. All I tried to do as a parent, was add some sunshine on an incredibly dark time... And, I thank my lucky stars I had the privilege to do so...

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Tuesday, February 16, 2021

Our Respectful Parenting Lifestyle...


Imagine for a second that you're at a restaurant with all your friends. You are all laughing at the table and having such a great time. The waiter comes over and hands you your drink, while you're in mid conversation. Now, imagine that your friend next to you immediately cuts you off and loudly projects, "I didn't hear you say thank you to the waiter. Say thank you." 

What would you do? 
Say thank you? 
Or completely shift gears and pull yourself inward and close yourself off to everyone around? 

That scenario sounds absolutely ridiculous, right? It's shaming to an extreme level, right? Well, it's exactly what we do to our children - all the time. 

Our children receive such mixed messages from adults... Children are expected to act like adults; not have big feelings in public, sit still when told, cooperate in all situations, etc. 

...But, they're not treated like adults. 

...They're never given that same respect.

Respectful parenting isn't about letting your children get away with everything and having no rules... It's about respecting your children enough for them to live their own life - It's allowing them to set their own boundaries and know their limits. It's allowing them the freedom to use their voice, without punishment. It's about them being who they were meant to be, not who you want them to be.

I know, I know... I hear it all the time... "I tried to use peaceful parenting, but it just didn't work for me." That's because, respectful parenting is a lifestyle, not a strategy... It's not something you can pick up on whim and expect it to work when you want it to work... It's a life form of its own... 

It's about constant conversations and mutual respect between the parent and child - and it definitely involves no punishment. Because, we as parents are supposed to be guiding our developing children, not punishing them because, their decisions weren't perfectly executed. It's a lifestyle that is started at birth and carried throughout their lives... It's allowing them to make their own mistakes and understand that their incorrect actions weren't a direct dig at you. But instead, it's about them trying to figure out the world around them... I think if most people understood that sentence, they would parent differently. 

Respectful parenting is about understanding your child, on their level... The same way you would for your best friend...

I get looked at weirdly when I tell people that my children never went through terrible twos, bad toddler years, or bratty times... I get called some fancy name and then, it's automatically assumed that I'm trying to mom shame others because, we didn't have the same experiences... The only difference to each scenario is, I have never once attempted to dominate or control my children, so they never felt the need to rebel.

While other 10 year old girls are trying to get as far away from their parents as possible. I have the one who would rather be with me, than friends... And, it's not that I'm trying to be that parent who is "besties" with her daughter - it's not like that at all. We're 100% parent and child. But, my daughter doesn't feel that intimidating authoritarianism from me... And, that's the difference...

The difference is, she is comfortable to sit down and talk to me. She doesn't hesitate to come to me when things are weird or she needs help navigating things... 

It's like that famous saying, "if you don't listen to the small stuff, they won't come to you for the big stuff." And, that has been a big mantra in my parenting.

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Friday, February 12, 2021

This is a story about my miscarriage that occurred on my 30th birthday...

**Disclaimer: Trigger warning... This post is about pregnancy and loss - contains some graphic details... This is MY story and my feelings. Your experiences and feelings may be different.**


9 years ago today, I was newly pregnant with baby #2. This pregnancy took a lot longer to conceive, than it did with my daughter. So, when I first found out I was pregnant, I held tightly onto that information. I wanted to keep it between my close friends and immediate family... I felt like if I advertised it to the world, it wouldn't feel as special as it did during that moment...   

On my 30th birthday, I walked into my 14 week scan to get a routine check up because, I had a subchorionic bleed - I had this same condition with my daughter, so I wasn't that concerned. Everything turned out fine the first time around, so I figured the same would transpire with this one as well. It's funny how your brain convinces you of certain things... At that point, I was used to all the scans and appointments. In fact, they always eased my whirling mind during those early weeks. 

I was still reeling from the excitement and love from my surprise party that occurred just two days prior. Ironically, this was the only prenatal appointment that I have gone to solo. But, I reassured my husband that it was routine and by this time, the clot should have corrected itself and after this appointment, we'd be back to normal - It was such a hassle having him leave work for these weekly appointments.

I sat in the little room alone, replaying my milestone birthday party over and over again. I remember tapping the metal torcher table and counting the ceiling tiles (I didn't own a smart phone at this time, otherwise, I would have been on it). I was remembering how my daughter just turned 18 months and she stole the show at the party. I smiled at the joy of having all my friends and family in one location and laughing at the inside jokes that were made - And remembering, how lucky I felt...

The doctor came in the room, with his trusty nurse beside him. He sat down beside me and reviewed everything with me. We discussed how I felt and how everything was progressing so far. My stomach was already showing a little - the joys of a second pregnancy. I continued to tell him all about my weird craving combo of pepperoncinis and sour worms - we laughed. And, how nauseated I was, but grateful I wasn't violently ill, like I was with my daughter. He told me everything looked great, but he wanted to run another scan to check how the clot was progressing... He hoped it was gone so we could go back to normal visits and I could finally declare my public pregnancy announcement - exactly what I was thinking, too.

I walked down the hall with the nurse, into the little sonogram room. Before walking out the door, the nurse turned back and said, "pepperoncinis and sour worms, really?" I laughed and told her how I loved dipping the sour worms in the juice... Pregnancy does some weird things to your taste buds. The sonographer giggled... The sonographer and I have become casual friends for how often I was there with my daughter and now this little one. 

As soon as the procedure began, I noticed something was off. I cracked a few jokes, but her face remained still... I immediately felt the air thicken around me and the room close in. My cheeks were flush as I noticed the change in her face and her eyes squint. She nonchalantly moved the monitor away from me and that's when I choked up the words, "there's no heart beat, right?" as the tears begun to fill my eyes... I just knew it. She had it written all over her face... She slowly placed the wand on the cold metal table beside me and said, "the doctor would be in to see me." And, she mouthed the words, "I'm sorry" as she walked out, closing the door behind her. 

And there I sat, alone again...

My head fell into my hands as I sobbed... I sobbed for someone I didn't even know. Someone who I already had hopes and dreams for. Someone I already adored.

I called my husband at work, barely able to speak the words. But somehow, he knew and was already at my car waiting for me, before I left the appointment. 

The doctor came back in to verify my observations. He told me I had what was called a missed miscarriage. Something I have never heard of. Meaning, my body still thought I was pregnant - Everything progressed along as if I was still pregnant. However, the baby had passed.

He assured me that he wanted to wait a few days to see what my body does on its own. And then, we would have another scan just to verify that this one was correct.

Valentine's Day was in two days, so they scheduled the D&C for February 15th... I was now to go back home with my baby still inside me, while I waited to see if he or she would pass on their own. 

It's amazing how in moments of tragedy, people come to your aid... When I walked out of the appointment, I fell into my husband's arms. I felt the weight of the world. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at someone. I desperately wanted to blame someone... Then, I came home to a house filled with my parents and best friend - who had a big chocolate cake in her hand... She knew me so well. And, I will always remember that detail.

We all talked and I sobbed...

The next day was a blur... I don't remember much from that day. My parents kept my daughter at their house overnight and I believe I just slept.

The day after, Valentine's Day, I was having dinner at my parent's home. The whole day, I had minor cramping and bleeding, but nothing to make a fuss about. However, this was the first day that I felt something different.

We were just getting ready to sit down for dinner. I pulled out the dining room chair and before sitting down, I immediately felt a huge gush come out of me... I stood there and began to panic. I wasn't sure if it was blood, a baby, or something else... This time, my sobbing wasn't sadness, but urgent. It was fear.

My father and brother immediately grabbed my daughter and brought her upstairs to distract her. My mom and I went into the bathroom, where my husband had to practically carry me because I was so faint.

I don't think the miscarriage hit me the two days prior. I don't think I really understood what occurred because, it wasn't tangible. There was nothing that I could feel that said I had a miscarriage. So, I left the appointment sad because of words that were spoken, but nothing physical. Plus, I still had the baby with me. So, I guess I just held onto the tiniest bit of hope - Hope that their high powered technology was wrong. 

But, in that moment, I knew what was happening. I knew this was the end... And, I felt all the emotions flood through me at once.

My husband frantically called the doctor's office to see how to proceed. Which obviously, he told us to go to the ER. But, in that moment, we were all so emotional that the thought hadn't even occurred to us - My husband just lost his baby, my parent's just lost their grandchild, and my brother lost his niece or nephew... It was like we were all frozen.

I sat in the backseat of my parent's car on a big black hefty bag. I never thought that much blood could come from a human and still live to talk about it. The contractions felt like early labor and the pain was increasing with every minute that ticked by. I was in this weird limbo realm of pain, sadness, and fear. My crying slowed, as I blankly stared out the window. My husband's and mother's voices were muffled as they talked around me... Everything slowed...

When the scans were complete, it was voiced to us that everything had passed - I no longer needed a D&C. So, I spent my Valentine's Day in a small ER room with my husband and mother and the most compassionate ER staff that I have ever encountered... I guess when you lose a baby, you see a different side to people. The once frazzled, tired, and overworked staff suddenly had time. They had time to rub my head as I cried and coach me down as I panicked over seeing huge clots come out of me. 

My 30th birthday and that Valentine's Day will always be the days I lost my baby. Instead of just remembering that awesome surprise party, this memory steals the show... These two significant days will always stick with me for eternity... But, what I learned from this is, family will always be there for you. Friends will drop whatever they're doing to bring you cake and others, will sit on the phone with you for hours.

As I celebrate my 39th birthday today, I'm so happy where my life is today... I am grateful for my rainbow baby, who is now 8 years old. And, that both of my children are so incredibly healthy. I am so grateful that I only lived through one of these horrific experiences, when there are so many women who have had multiple miscarriages or even full term ones... I don't know how you women find the strength - You are warriors!

I know miscarriages are a taboo subject, which is so odd because it's a death. I know there are a lot of people who know me in real life and, they don't even know that I went through this - because, it was kept quiet. And looking back, I'm not sure why... Why did I feel ashamed? Why did I feel like I couldn't talk about it to others outside of our immediate circle.

You shouldn't only be able to talk about miscarriages during the designated miscarriage awareness day. Instead, it should be part of conversations. It should be known how common these are. And, how people have different experiences. 

It's therapeutic to talk about it. It's healthy to grieve. And, at that time, I felt like I had to stuff all my emotions inside of me to move forward and get on with my life. I felt like no one would really care. And, if I spent too much time talking about it, people would be bothered by it... Which is so bizarre that this is our initial thought...

We need to normalize things women experience. We need to normalize how miscarriage is a true loss, no matter how far along the family was - and families need time to process it all, surrounded by love and support. 

My hope is, my story will encourage others to talk about their story and maybe, not feel so alone...

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Follow me on Instagram for daily posts and video vlogs in my stories at the_happy_days <3