PERIOD BASKETS, AND BEING A SUPER CARING HUSBAND WHEN MY WIFE HAS PMS.

​As most of you know Amy is usually on the receiving end of lots of my jokes and punchlines… So once a month, (especially on months that fall on a holiday) there are times that I feel my job as a husband is to have some compassion. Of course, the easy thing to do would be to stand ten feet away, throw her Reese’s Pieces, and slide her a cardboard box of wine that she can’t use as a weapon, like she could an empty glass bottle. But when it comes to dealing with PMS and periods, I like to step right on the front lines… be like Daniel and get right in that Lion’s Den.. face that giant like David.. say the Lord’s Prayer, and shower my wife with a “Period Basket”.

This was a couple years ago.. back when her PMS was so bad that we thought she had a gluten allergy… come to find out, it was just really bad hormones. Here she is proudly displaying her present from me.

About midway through October of last year, she came home and noticed the laundry hadn’t been done on my day off. I could tell by the way her head turned around her body 360 degrees at me, that she was starting to develop symptoms of PMS.. so like a good husband, I made her a Halloween Period Basket, stocked with items like, batshit crazy brownies,A Woman’s Day magazine, wine, and of course pumpkin spice tampons.

Last year around Thanksgiving, out of nowhere I got hit with the “you need to be more caring and understanding”, speech. I took that as a challenge, and the very next day I hopped in my truck… went to CVS and the craft store, and with love, came home and handcrafted a handy dandy turkey tampon holder, for quick access.. all because I care ❤

Sometimes it’s unexpected… And you don’t have time to make a basket. I was just at the store getting a loaf of bread and BAM!!

Sometimes I just have to buy her a giant cookie to eat, so she doesn’t eat me.

A Spring Period Basket, is done much like the one from Thanksgiving… Only this time instead of a turkey, I made a lop-eared bunny. 

It doesn’t always have to be a basket… On Mother’s Day I got really sentimental and bought her a Menstrual Tree.. loaded full of tampons, pocket rocket vodka and chocolate. It’s kind of like a Christmas tree, except for your period. I hope one day that we can tie a tire swing to this tree and push our grandchildren.. and I also hope she does not hang me from it. 

This one was the Pinnacle of Period Baskets. I’m yet to outdo this one, but the good news is.. every month on the dot, I’ll get another chance to try.

You would think after all of my care packages, she could at least pack my lunch right, and cut my cucumber. But no. This. THIS is the thanks I get.

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The Truth About Being Facebook Famous-ish, Dealing With Trolls, And Trying To Be Nice To People That Want You To Die.

Over the last couple of years, becoming somewhat “internet-famous-ish”,  has had it’s ups and downs. I love meeting people that follow us..I love it when people come up and want a picture.. because that usually means you’ve made a positive impact on them, or at least made them laugh a time or two, but I will say it’s kind of awkward when I’m in a store delivering groceries and perishable foods, and someone runs up and wants a selfie, while the customer service manager and cashiers are wondering why in the hell some lady wants a picture with a truck driver. It’s kind of like being rich with Monopoly money.. lots of people know who you are, but you still gotta work, because believe it or not 2,500 likes on a funny Facebook post, doesn’t pay you a damn thing .. so you still have to ask to use a sick day to go do fun stuff like be on a radio show for free… which makes it super awkward the next day when you go back to work, and some older guy that you’ve worked with for 16 years that doesn’t use social media, but has an FM radio, wants to know why in the hell you were on the radio yesterday.. it’s a very humbling conversation.

For the most part, everything that I post is family related. I talk and joke about my wife and kids, and try to bring positivity to all of our imperfect and chaotic lives.. so one of the oddest parts for me, is the amount of tit pics I’ve recived, and the enemies I’ve made over the last couple years.. Don’t get me wrong, my inbox isn’t full of women wanting me to ditch my wife and her PMS hormones and run away with them and start putting up with their mood swings… and it’s not always someone telling me I’m an asshole for posting pictures of my daughter crying.. Most of my messages are great and I love reading them.. but for a guy that basically just post PG-13 material to the internet, I’ve had to deal with my share of whack jobs… Like yesterday when I was solicited sex via messenger.. I don’t know the person..& maybe it was just an ISIS account, or maybe it was a fake account.. maybe it was real. Who knows? About 8 hours after I posted a screenshot of my reply to her, Facebook deleted my post, and said that I “didn’t follow Community standards”. So, I guess it’s okay to solicit sex on Facebook, as long as you don’t turn their offer down publicly??

I thought since this was taken down , I would post it in a Blog and also take a trip down memory lane and look at some of the other times I’ve had an opportunity to go on Troll Patrol, or just be involved in some funny conversations on facebook. I’ll just start with yesterday’s episode.

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I’ll give Crystal (or Isis) one thing.. she’s not the kind of girl that likes to rush into things. She took it nice and slow for over 6 months, before she finally got to the point.

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Why the delete? Really? I would probably feel safer if she would just go ahead and tell me this is really an Isis account.

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Well.. after trying to let her down easy, it looks like I violated Facebook laws.. WHAT. IN. THE. HELL? Okay.. let’s move on..

If you guys follow me on Facebook, you know that I love Jesus, but I have an adult beverage every now & then.. I usually blame my very minimum alcoholic beverage consumption on having three girls in my house and having to deal with estrogen all the time.. but it never fails, the second I post a picture on my page of us all out to eat and there’s a beer in my hand.. I’m a hypocrite and a stumbling block, and it’s usually a comment or message from a lady who may or may not smok 2 packs of Pall Malls a day and stays zooted on kolonapin and the smell of cat urine.. but who am I to judge?

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Let’s move on to, Troy. Troy kept sending me messages, but made them to where I couldn’t reply to them, so I took that as a challenge, and answered him with a rather lengthy public Facebook response.

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Dear, Troy

   Thank you for the message, and please excuse the late response. Since you’ve made it unable for me to reply to you via messenger, I’ll just go ahead and reply to you here.

First of all, I’m sorry if my “profanity” offends you. I have took some time to look back through my page and I assume you are talking about the words “sh#t” and “d#mn”. (I’ll block them out in this post, because they are obviously offensive to you) Yes, I have thrown those words out occasionally on here in a playful or jokingly manner. I have never felt convicted for using language like that in the context that I use it, because in all actuality, they mean the same as words like “crap” and “dang”, that your 75 year old aunt Beverly (just a guess) said that it was okay for you to use.

I have pondered on your accusation of being a hypocrite, and the more I think about it, the more hypocritical I feel for trying to think of nice ways to reply to you, when really my flesh just wants to make this much shorter and go ahead and simply call you an asshole, (which is definantly a sin. But please let me finish) You are right. We are ALL hypocrites and sinners and not one of us are worthy of His love, but by His Grace, and His work on the Cross we can be forgiven.. I think Peter is a perfect example of that.. He was a strong willed and courageous man, but at times he was quick to speak, impulsive and impetuous. Probably a lot like you and I both. To me one of the most amazing things in the Bible, is how Jesus took 12 politically incorrect men.. A dozen sinners just like me, and not only made them a mouthpiece, but gave them the platform to change the world through His gospel.

I think the point I’m trying to get to is this: My sin is not in a word alone. My conviction comes from countless other things..like Idolatry; I often put my favorite football team ahead of things that should be way more important than that.. like my family, my friends, and yes, sometimes my God.. I at times feel convicted for saying hateful things to my wife and the ones I love in a moment of anger.. and sometimes my conviction comes from ignoring my kids cartwheel to read or write something on the internet. This list could go on and on. What do you do, Troy? What is in your closet that makes you fall short of the glory of God? The book of Isaiah says “All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags”. I am NOT saying that my actions are right, and I’m not saying that you or anyone else should agree with me.. but I do think that WE as Christians should examine our own sinful ways, and stop pointing fingers at each other. Every day I fall short, and everyday He lifts me back up. Countless times Jesus has saved my ass, and I’m not talking about my donkey.

I hope if you follow us on here,  you’ll continue to. The last thing I want to do is come off as hypocritical or fake. My life desire is to help heal peoples pain with laughter, and show the world that people CAN indeed be real people, love God, and still have fun. Sorry for the lengthy response to your short message.

Best,
Jason A Ward.

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I marked out Troy’s last name in this blog… When I posted it to Facebook , I didn’t.. and shortly after I was notified that his name had been searched over 70 thousand times. Oops! Sorry, Troy. Change your settings to where I can reply to you via messenger, and I’ll respond privately next time❤

One day I simply tried to make a post about Nirvana and Kurt Cobain..and the Millennial babies tried to eat me up.. Well, “tried”.

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This is just a comment from my dad to someone who was trying to look way too far into one of Amy’s Facebook post. I love it.. So simple, yet profound.

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My kids are too young to be on social media, so when they troll me, they have to do it in real life..and sometimes that forces me to have to break out a red pen. GoTigers!

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For those of you that are blessed enough to know, Amy, you know that one thing is for sure… She will pray for you , she will pray for anybody. This was a message I sent her early in my Breaking Bad binge-watching obsession..

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I received this message just days after our Sling Blade Starbucks drive-thru went viral. I couldn’t quit talking like Karl Childers… Or texting like him for that matter.

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Remember earlier when I said that I love to meet people that follow us? I met this guy in Arizona at the Clemson vs. Alabama National Championship Game. I even gave him a souvenir I wasn’t going to use. GoTigers!

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For every 10 negative messages and comments I get, there are 100 fun ones like Brad’s, and like Jamie’s below..  This one will always be my favorite, and the reason I will always do what I do..

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I could literally sit here and post these all day, but I think I’ll stop now. If you’ve wasted the last 20 minutes of your life that you’ll never get back reading these I’ll go ahead and apologize, and thank you at the same time. We love you guys!  ..Well.. the majority of you, anyway. 😉 Thanks for hanging with us.
#PsychWard

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Making My Family Crazy One Comparison Photo At A Time

A few years ago, I found out that I was absolutely obsessed with making side by side photos of my family. Seeing as how I’m the only male in the house, this has been great therapy for me, and my battle on estrogen. I thought today I would share a few of my favorites.

First we’ll start out simple. One day our kitten yawned,  and I couldn’t help but notice how striking similar it looked to my youngest daughter, Vallie’s meltdowns.

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Next let’s go to my wife, Amy. If you follow me on Facebook, you’ve seen this in your news feed at least a hundred times… You’ll see it a thousand more, I promise. This was when Amy broke her collarbone mountain biking. Pitiful, I know… But I don’t care how bad you feel…don’t put yourself in a situation where you look identical to the mayor of Whoville, and expect me not to put it on the internet.

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I don’t know what it is that always makes me see Tigers, and other extremely dangerous animals when comparing Vallie.. Well actually, I’m not gonna lie.. It’s the beauty, the rage.. The fear, the terror that she put in the mind of others.. The thought of knowing that just one wrong move, and she will lash out at anyone in her path.

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If you’re a college football fan, or especially a Clemson fan then you know who Danny Ford is. Coach Ford led the Tigers to their National Championship in 1981. If there is a human being on the planet that I would pay to punch one of my teeth out, it would be him. This picture is basically just me trying to make us look way cooler than what we really are.

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Ok, so I hate to get off subject of family here, but don’t think just because we’re not related that you’re safe from falling victim to one of my side by sides… This is Asheville Dj, and my friend at Star104.3, Josh Michael. He thought calling me out on his radio show would be a great idea. You can tell how that turned out for him. I could’ve also went Ryan Seacrest,  but he would’ve liked that too much. I hope we’re still friends, man… or should I say, “Neighbor”?

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I call this one “Hakuna Matata”.. It means, “No worries”. (Try to stop singing that now. You’re welcome) This one actually got a “like” from Ellen..Ok, well maybe not, Ellen herself.. but at least one of her admin on her show page. Whatever. Shut up. This one is probably my favorite.

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Let’s get back to Amy. She’s my favorite target. Emenim once said “You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow”. Ever since he said that, I’ve tried to make the most of every opportunity.. Like this picture. Amy and I were on a simple day hike, when her hair band broke, and I had to give up my hat. Do you remember the scene in Forrest Gump, where he stops in the middle of the road and says “I’m pretty tired.. I think I’ll go home now..” when I was a kid, I used to think Jenny was smoking hot.. But never did I imagine my wife would look exactly like Forrest freaking Gump.

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This simply proves that my oldest daughter, Macie isn’t alone by having a crying sibling. There’s more toddlers like, Vallie.. Even in the animal kingdom.

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Let’s cut the crap and get on with the most epic meltdown in the history of temper tantrums.  My wife hates this one. I’m a huge Clemson fan, so basically I named my second daughter after the stadium the Tigers play in (Death Valley). One day this fit took place in our front yard, and it looks eerily similar to Megadeth’s famous album cover. I simply call this one “MegaDeath Vallie” if you think this is a parenting win, we can be friends.. If not, okay goodbye.
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Speaking of parenting wins… I taught Vallie to put her baby doll in a figure four.  I’m just kidding… This was just a meltdown that looked like a wrestling move…

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I know.. some of you are dying to type it.. “YOUR BABY CRIES ALL THE TIME. TAKE IT TO THE DOCTOR… GET HER SOME MEDICATION. . CHANGES HER DIET” shut up. She smiles alot, too. I just don’t post them as much. I don’t want my facbook and instagram pictures to be as boring as yours… besides, she’s not crying here,  she’s roaring.  Go Tigers!

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Here’s one where Amy looks like some creepy old guy… oh wait, that’s Adolf Hitler… The most evil man to ever walk the face of this earth. What a coincidence.. and why does the child on his lap not look as terrified as Vallie?

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I guess after all of this, I’m one step closer to receiving the divorce papers from my wife, but you get where I’m going with all these.. Vallie looks like raging exotic animals, and Rockstars… While,  Amy looks like male celebrities and evil villains. Macie I guess has gotten away lucky for the most part.

Let’s face it.. Kids do weird things, but because they are “our kids”, we think its cute. But what if grown ups acted like them? I’ve got the answer. Here are some snapshots that Amy and I have found in our phones, and we have decided to reenact them. Before I go, I’ll leave you with these. We simply call them, “If We Acted Like Our Kids”.

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Facebook:  Jason A Ward
http://LookWhatWardPut@facebook.com

Instagram: @ThePsychWard

My Side Of OUR Story

I’ve never written a blog, but thousands of people for some odd reason follow me on the Internet, so that leaves me wondering whether I should introduce myself, or pick up where I left off on facebook. When in doubt, I usually ask myself, “what would Karl Childers do”. So in his words, “I reckon I’ll, start up from the front & tell it to yee”.

I was born and raised in the Swannanoa Valley of Black Mountain, North Carolina.. A small town just 10  minutes east of Asheville. I’m an only clild, because my dad said I was birth control, and my mom always called me a “little shit”… so that’s basically the only explanation as to why I never had any siblings.
 
Me holding switch for being a shithead
               In approximately 1984.

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Here I am again during the most awkward stage of my life, and also in the most awkward photo of my life. 

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I spent the majority of my teenage years partying, and not doing homework. I was never a trouble maker, but 98% of the time I made horrible decisions.. Especially if I was in a situation that required me to make them on my own. I always had, and to this day have great parents that have given me way more than I deserve. .. but at 16, you already know everything about life.. so what could go wrong, no matter what they say, right?

In November of 1998, most of my teenage nonsense came to an abrupt halt. That morning about 10 am, I got in a terrible car crash that left me in ICU with a 6 inch skull fracture and a collapsed lung. The only thing that saved me (other than God) was that I was way too cool for a seat belt, so I was lucky enough to be ejected through the passenger side, rather than being crushed by the tree that was IN my drivers seat. (don’t try that at home) At the time of the accident, I was completely sober, but was transporting enough weekend pot that my buddies and I had chipped in on, that we could’ve blazed an entire small town in Mexico…and to this day, I’m pretty convinced the marijuana was split up between people that “stopped to check on me”, or the first responders, considering how an officer shows up while I’m in the hospital, and pulls from his pocket my Cartman from Southpark bowl, and a little tiny bag of weed, and says that he’s not going to charge me for all the pot they’d found in my vehicle, and he hoped that this could be used as a “life lesson”. At that time, I think that was the moment that I realized that I had been not only given a second chance at life, but the realization that I wasn’t nearly as cool as I thought I was, and the thought of being in any kind of trouble terrified me. That was a moment I’m grateful for,  because I also could’ve chosen to believe that I could get away with anything.. but I guess at that moment, I was scared straight, and for the most part, that seemed to carry me through the rest of my teens without getting in any more trouble, with the law, anyway.

Meanwhile during my two week hospital stay, I’m starting to get mobile again, and also getting tons of visitors. But the one that kept coming by, and staying the longest was this brown eyed chick named, Amy McDonald. She went to a different school, but we’d known each other for a couple of years. She was smoking hot, and I was, well… In a hospital bed, weighing in at like 125lbs including my chest tube, with bleach blonde hair, and earing holes. (Basically I looked like a night crawler dressed like a Backstreet Boy) but for some odd reason she liked me back.. I got better, and at that point, we started our childish, dramatic, on again/off again, teenage realationship.

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We spent the next couple of years crazy in love one day, then broke up the next. I remember one day I probably went back & forth from her house 20 times. It’s rumor that one of Amy’s parents said while they were watching me through their bedroom window, “They’re either going to get back together, or he’s gonna run out of gas”.

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The longest Amy and I ever stayed split up was 6 months. On September 11th 2001, one year after high-school, I put 50 cents in the pay phone at work to call and tell her that I missed and loved her. I guess there was somthing about my cargo shorts, and Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirt that she just couldn’t resist. Three months later we were engaged, and on September 28, 2002.. we were married… I had just turned 21… She was 19.

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I never really understood why Amy drove us away from our wedding. It felt awkward. I felt like everyone thought I had a suspended license or something.

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Our Myrtle Beach honeymoon was amazing. (considering it was one of the first times Amy was allowed to go out of town with me)  My parents gave us $1000, and my aunt and uncle gave us their condo for the week. We thought we were rich. On the first day, we had been out to eat twice, and to the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum, putt putt, the aquarium, and spent like $70 bucks at the adult novelty store (Which I had to go in to by myself,  because Amy wasn’t old enough) When we got back to the condo that evening, we realized that we’d spent $500 the first day.. This was Saturday. We still had 6 days left.. $500 for the rest of the week.. that included gas money to get home. We had no savings account, and no credit cards. On the way home we literally drafted off of other vehicles like we were in the Daytona 500, just to preserve enough fuel to make it back. And when the honeymoon was over… that’s when real life began.

Shorts, shirt, hair, ankle bracelet,  earrings. So much “No” going on with me right here.

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Like I said earlier, Amy and I both have parents that do way more for us than we deserve. My parents blessed us with a house. A major fixer upper, but the house that gave us our start. After years of renovation, it’s still a work in progress, but we’ve made my great grandmother’s house a home again.

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As we settled into our new lives together, we didn’t necessarily get wiser. We fell into the night club and party scene.. and I don’t mean an occasional night out, I mean we’d leave the bars every Friday and Saturday night, and not remember how in the hell we got home, but we’d be at church every Sunday morning sitting in the pew with a pounding headache. But at the time we were having fun.

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After a couple of years,  that kind of lifestyle had taken its toll. I wasn’t giving Amy the attention she needed, between work and my Clemson Football obsession, we both started to become bitter towards each other. One night at a bar, quite frankly shit hit the fan, and the realization was that Amy and I had a marriage that was hanging by a thread. We went three days without speaking, and on the third night I went and spoke to her… And on the bedroom floor, we prayed that Jesus Christ would take control of our marriage. From that point on, Amy was a different person. She never looked back. He had complete control of her life. She Was 100% devoted, and it was obvious. As for me, I used God when I felt like I needed Him…On my terms. As Karl Childers would say, “Just barely enough to scrape by on, I reckon”… But we as a couple were maturing somewhat. We were being blessed, and lots of things were getting ready to change. More than I could ever imagine, actually.

I’ll be honest. I didn’t really like the idea of having kids. I can’t really recall my logic as of WHY I didn’t want them… I guess I still liked being a kid myself.. .but Amy had an urge, and it wasn’t going away. I was getting to score “sexytime” every day, so screw it. LET’S HAVE SOME BABIES!

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Pregnancy was weird for me. I could write on this for hours. All the things that grow and swell on a woman in those 9 months is really intriguing. I remember Amy’s nose looked like it was having its own baby at one point. I remember her getting out of the bathtub one evening when she was like 16 months pregnant, and she asked me to rub lotion on her. As she laid back on the bed, she looked like a blimp deflating. I didn’t know whether to rub her, or call the fire department.

I’m going to skip all the pregnancy stuff, and introduce you to Macie.

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When Macie Faith was born in January of 2006, it blew me away. It was incredible how you could fall in love with somthing that’s so tiny the very instant you see it, and even deeper in love the second it’s laid in your hands, but I had no idea what I was in for. I think instead of going completely crazy, I learned to harness my frustration by finding the humor in some of the most aggravating moments of being a new father. Having a new fishing, and football buddy was awesome, and It didn’t take long to realize that no matter how obnoxious she was, the thought of living without her was sickening, but the thought of having a grandparent, or babysitter taking them away for a few hours was heavenly.

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In our marriage, Amy refers to August 30th, through the last weekend in November, as “Divorce Season”. That’s when College Football starts, and my weekends are spent in Clemson, South Carolina watching the Tigers, or on the road visiting other college towns in the South… watching the Tigers. I’m pretty convinced that I’m married to the greatest woman on the planet. Honest to God, she’s put up with more of my “stuff”, than 98% of the female population would,  and probably should. I’ve been threatened with horrible things over the phone by her…one time I couldn’t really hear the details.. I was at a loud tailgate, and Macie was screaming and crying in the background on her end of the phone (Maybe it’s best that I don’t know what she said) .. But there’s just something about Death Valley that’s been worth most of the ass chewings and wrath that I’ve received from Amy. I don’t know what it is about those orange uniforms running down the Hill on Saturdays in autumn, but I seem to lose touch with reality the second the season tickets are mailed out.

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After Macie was born, and approximately 3 divorce seasons had come and gone, Amy had finally gotten tired of being a football widow in the fall, and a fishing widow in the spring. She made a bold decision that probably not only saved our marriage once again,  but took us to the next level of our realationship. She rocked my world one day when out of the blue, took on a new mentality that she called, “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em”. She started going to more football games with me, going fishing when I went, and basically at first just pretended to like doing all of the other outdoor stuff that I like to do. It was probably stingy of me to let her do a bunch of stuff that she probably had zero interest in doing in the first place, but ultimately this made us best friends. I began to submit more to her, and our realationship became stronger, and our bond felt unbreakable. We began to crave our time together. Our conversations got deeper, and through our quality time together, I found myself talking to God more, and asking Him how I could be a better husband to my wife.

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When Macie was 3, Amy started to have “baby fever” again. I bought her a puppy, followed by like three cats, which all came up missing. They were either eaten by a coyotes, or ran away from Macie. (We’ll never know) I eventually had to face the facts… I was going to produce another human,  whether I wanted to or not. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the TRYING part. I just don’t think that I thought it through, that all of that fun TRYING,  would In fact eventually make another baby,  and “the three of us”, would soon become “the four of us”.

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Our second daughter was born in April of 2011. After 9 months of pleading my case,  and another failed attempt at naming one of my daughter’s, Dani Ward, after Clemson’s 1981 National Championship Coach, Danny Ford,  I realized that wasn’t going to happen, So we compromised and named her Vallie Hope, which was a huge compromise for Amy, considering she was naming her daughter after a Stadium, but not just any stadium.. The “Death Valley”. I really don’t know any other way to put this, other than when this child was born,  shit got real.

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Vallie came into the world full throttle, and she’s not let up since.  Not since Miley Cyrus,  has one came in like such a wrecking ball.

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We’ve all heard the old saying.. “what goes around,  comes around”, well.. This child is definitely mine. She’s taught us that having patience isn’t easy, and to have patience, one often needs Jesus.. and wine. NO. There is nothing wrong with her, and no, she doesn’t need to be on medication, and NO. She doesn’t have a gluten allergy. She’s just a child that knows what she wants. She’s awesome, and one day she’ll either be your President, or win an Academy Award for Best Drama.

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After all this, the stage was set for the dynamic duo, known as Vallie and Macie to begin to grow up together, and rain holy terror on anything in their paths. They fight each other daily. There are times that we have to look twice to make sure they’re not choking each other out of anger, or strangling each other with hugs.. but every morning, I see them snuggled up together, (usually in our bedroom floor) and every morning I’m reminded that they are the driving force behind everything that I do.

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And with all of the love that I had built up in my heart for the two daughters in my life, I had no room in my wallet, or love in my heart to spare on another child. So I made the decision to end the Ward name, and have a vasectomy.

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I guess all of that kinda leads me  into the chapter of our lives that we’re currently in.. but I wouldn’t be telling the entire story thus far, if I didn’t at least mention the videos. Over the summer of 2014, I took the girls to Cookout Drive-Thru for milkshakes, only this time I ordered in a voice that anyone born before 1996 would recognize…and like I’d been doing for years, I recorded the silly moment, and uploaded it to social media… The next morning, I woke up to thousands of people either thanking us for the laughs, or just stopping by to say “f&#% you, asshole for holding up the line.

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Thousands quickly turned into millions, and with that brought out lots of people that think just by watching 3 minutes worth of videos, that they could write my entire life story up to this point… but just like in most situations, the good usually outweighs the bad, and I was introduced to some of the greatest people I’ve ever met.

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There was a point when it first happened that it was a little overwhelming, and shortly after my face started to be plastered all over the Internet, and tons of people started trying to find out more about us, I almost deleted everything.. Instead, I began to ask God what the meaning behind it was, and how I could use it for His good, and not my own. The answer quickly came clear. Laughter is a medicine, God gave us a sense of humor, and it was my calling to use mine to help others get through tough times.. I just no clue how far it could stretch.

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So that’s pretty much our story up to this point in our perfectly unperfect lives. We’re just a regular family, with regular jobs. We have our ups and downs. There are times my mouth says words before my brain says not to, and there are times when Amy’s nerves are so shot from hearing the kids say they’re hungry, that I’m scared she’s going to stab me if she so much as even hears me chew. We argue, we say things we shouldn’t… we have fun, we love, but most importantly, we forgive… The last thing I want to do is for us to come across fake… like we’re some perfect little Pinterest family, like half of the people that have a social media account pretended to be. That’s not us. I don’t know where our next chapter is gonna go, or even how this one is going to end. I feel like the best is yet come, but at the end of the day, if all this was for is to show a few people that you can be a real person, have fun, AND be used by God, all at the same time.. no matter who you’ve been in the past,  then it was all worth it.

Let your light shine.
#PsychWard

https://youtu.be/8k115l4t9L4image

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