10 Things I Hope My Husband Knows

1. I hope you know that for always and forever, I will always choose you.No matter what comes our way or who may ever try to come between us, I will continue to choose you!

2. There’s nothing that warms my heart quite the way you do when you search for me in your sleep!

3. Your morning breath is atrocious, but I sure do love those as soon as I open my eyes kisses.

4. I love that you keep my secrets safe, you share my burdens, and protect me! You don’t make me feel like I’m inferior, or weaker, or less than you, when you do it.

5. Tho I give you a hard time, I really love that you need things from me that only I can provide you.

6. You are an amazing daddy, and it warms my heart whenever I step back and watch you just be Dad! Whether it be you reading to the kids, playing with them, working with them, or teaching them!

7. You will always deserve better than me, and I will always be grateful that you can’t see that!

8. The way you stand your ground and know what you believe will always amaze me! You are truly the strongest man I know! I love how you are rooted in faith and you let nothing shake you!

9. I love the way you lead our family! The way you make the tough decisions and alway seem to know what’s best for us. The way you bring us all together!

10. But most of all I want you to know that I love the way you love me! The way you care for me, all the time. I love that even though I’m moody, and often find myself hangry, and sometimes not very nice you still love me!


Faith and Fear

Let’s talk a little bit about fears y’all!

And I’m not talking about that “fear” your kids are gonna throw a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store, or your 5 year old isn’t gonna ever stop eating her boogers.

I’m talking real, gut wrenching, chill ya to the bone fear.

What are you carrying around?

For me, I struggled with fear hardcore.

Everywhere I went I carried this huge pack of fears!

I was afraid of what might have been in the dark.

I was afraid of rejection.

I was afraid of dying.

But mostly I was afraid of being forgotten.

I carried these things with me like a tumor on my back. They at one time felt like they were apart of who I was. There wasn’t a separation. This things guided my life, they influenced decisions, they affected my thought process. Because of fear I chose to do things I’m not proud of!

I lived like this until one day, God got a hold of my heart, and made me realize that fear I let rule my life wasn’t healthy for me. It wasn’t doing me nor my children any good.

It was and still is a hard thing to do, to turn over all my fears and replace them completely with faith. But everyday I am learning to live my faith. I laid my fears down at His feet, and I backed away. I accepted that I can’t do everything on my own and I don’t have to live in constant fear.

We are taught that fears are an everyday part of life, and we deal with them from a pretty early age.

My 2 year old is afraid of the automatic toilets.

My 5 year old is often afraid of the dark.

My girls are both fearful of bugs, and snakes, and other creepy crawlers.

Just as I hold my two year old while she pees on the pots, God’s got his arms out wide saying I’ll keep you safe.

When my 5 year old is afraid, we hold hands, and we pray and ask God to keep her safe and out of harms way, and to protect her. But are we saying those prayers for our fears too?

Tho y’all I’m maybe not fearful she won’t but for real will this child ever stop eating her boogers?!?!


Breaking the Shackles of Pride!

The other day I shared a little bit of what was going on in my life.

I shared a bit about the inner voice that I find sometimes dictates my life.

I share raw feelings.

And I as I fearfully pressed that publish button, I braced my heart for negativity. But I was met with love and kind words.

I’m not sure where this fear of being real comes from. Why are we as moms, as women, as people feel we must hid behind these perfect life masks.

We hid our hurting hearts, our financial yuck, our parenting woos. We put on our nice clothes, donning our spanks (hey, I got ‘me too), painting our faces, while carefully making sure every hair is in place, like one external flaw will crack our facade of a perfect life.

When did we as moms become so obsessed with perfect? Or how much better we think other moms/women are? How did we become so okay with hurting ourself on a daily basis!

I watch my child learn daily, she isn’t concerned with whether the things she accomplishes is perfect, or if her best friend can do it better, she content knowing SHE’S done the task at hand and it’s completed. When she bring me her drawing she doesn’t care that the ink has smeared a little, or she colored my hair purple when it’s brown. She’s just proud of her master piece!

God didn’t create us to live lives of comparisons, his intention wasn’t for us to compare apples to oranges, or insides to outsides. Each of us we’re blessed with our own unique gifts, and somewhere along the way we have lost sight of that!

I’m guilty of this too, I look around at these women and I feel like they have it all together. They live in beautiful homes, their kids excel at all that they do, their marriages seem perfect, and they can afford that beautiful expensive family vacation! But I’m not in their homes, when the kids have torn through it like a tornado, when their husband had worked late for the 5th night in a row, and those kids are tired and cranky and being little stinks!

I’ve compared my insides to others outsides my fair share. I’ve thought “if I had her life I’d be happy”. If I had… That my friends is a dangerous statement, right up there with I deserve or It’s not fair!

Friends don’t you see we are hurting ourselves, we are bringing home expectations to our families and drawing up plans for thing that don’t exist! We’re picking and choosing what we want from the lives of those around us, and concocting this formula for disappointment.

I can’t have a husband who brings home all the money we need, while never having to be away from us for at least a few hours a day. Kids that are never naughty don’t exist, I mean, adults that never mess up don’t exist so why would kids?

I’m never gonna have that perfect dream world life, and believe it or not I’m okay with that. I’m okay with my life as it is right now. We are happy together as a family. As I learn to spend less time covered in pride, and focus more on being authentic and real, the happier I seem to be. The more I say “God I can’t do this without you” the more I become free of the shackles of pride!

Join me in this challenge in life to be less prideful, more humble, and a lot more loving and graceful!


Becoming Me

It’s been a while since I’ve made a post here, and for that I am sorry.

I’ve been dealing with some issues of the heart issues. (Not actual medical issues.)

Some family issues.

Some spiritual issues.

Some God issues.

You see, I’ve been trying to “help” God. Trying to show Him, and get Him to understand what I feel I truly need.

I’m sure y’all can guess how that’s been working out for me.

And if you can’t guess, I’ll just tell ya: IT HASN’T!

Lately I’ve been struggling with this comparison of who I am and who I think everyone wants me to be. Ive spent so much time on my knees, calling out to God:

Just CHANGE ME! Make me different than who I am! Just make me more like what they want me to be, who I should be! Help me be different than who I am right now! Or harden my heart, because Lord, something’s got to give!

I’ve screamed out to God, and I’ve prayed this prayed with tears streaming down my face!

I’ve tried so hard to be this person I thought I needed to be. This person who doesn’t let others see hurt and pain in my life. This person who closes the door and says “you can’t see my mess.” This person who wants to appear perfect and whole, and not a little bit broken.

But God says different.

And I find this written on my heart today!

Don’t you know, my child, that it always looks worse before it gets better? Don’t you know I have a plan for you? Have you not learned to quit leaning on your own understanding?

Does the planter not tear up the ground to plant the seed? Do the trees not shed their leaves before they bloom again in the Spring? Does the Mother not labor before she holds her baby? I’m not punishing you, or hurting you on purpose, I’m shaping you! And when I am ready you will be who I want you to be! Just as you wouldn’t rush the artist, be patient with your journey. You were created for a reason. You’re gifts are special and unique to you. You’re headed in the right direction, your road just looks a little different is all.


Number Three!

Vacation.  Summer.  I don’t know if the two should even be in the same sentence.  All of august I was processing where I stand on life.  We just found out we are pregnant with baby #3. My husband had started picking up more hours and my life felt like it was just dragging on.  

As many of you moms know pregnancy is not easy.  We had been trying to get pregnant for a year and a half and had thought we could only get pregnant on meds.  So we had stopped taking fertility medication in February and we wouldn’t be able to start back until July. I felt like a failure. I couldn’t get pregnant.  Craig and I finally sat down one night and talked. Decided that we would quit fighting Gods plan and just give it to him and stop worrying.  

About a month later I was late but didn’t think much of it.  I had been doing a new diet/food plan and thought maybe it screwed with my system and I was just late.  Then I was in a minor car accident and assumed the stress of it again was why I was late. About a week and a half later I decided I better take a test just in case.   

Sure enough It was positive.  I actually didn’t even believe it.  I ended up taking 4 more tests in a 2 span day.  Craig didn’t believe me either.  

Baby number three doesn’t like food. My nausea has been pretty intense in the evenings and I’m pretty sure my kids think I live in my bed.  I live on Carbs and fresh produce.  

I hope to keep updates and fun facts going on with this pregnancy.  What I am planning to buy, use, don’t use.  Stay tuned for baby Shetler #3 and don’t forget to subscribe!!! 



Recently we were blessed with the opportunity to get away for an ENTIRE WEEK, just Henry and I!  I knew it would be wonderful to get away, it would be like the honeymoon we never got to take 7 years ago!

Henry’s parents kept our children, and we headed out to northern Wisconsin. I had a whole list of things that I was expecting to do!

  1. Go to lake Superior, and take the tour of shipwrecks, sea caves, and light houses.
  2. See the waterfalls.
  3. Eat at the restaurant that was on one of those Food shows.
  4. Go canoeing/kayaking.
  5. Spend as much time as I could in the water!
  6. Go to Hayward’s candy shop.
  7. Get dressed up and go out for our Anniversary.

As you can see from the list there were quite a few things that I WANTED to do on MY vacation. I wasn’t thinking about OUR vacation. When we headed out Sunday afternoon, I really had no idea what he wanted to do, but these are the things that I expected to do, though I am not even sure I made him aware that I even had these expectations.

And he carried with him some plans or expectations of his own. He planned to be locked in the cabin for most of the trip, spending time that was a little more on the intimate side than I was planning. He planned to pretty much spend the whole trip dry, not really wanting to get in the water! He had this plan of just taking everyday as it comes and I had this whole itinerary planned.

We had a wonderful 8 hour drive up to the cabin which lead to some realizations! Henry and I have both grown and changed over the last 7 years. We are still very much in love, but somewhere along the way we put getting to know each other on the back burner.

I’m not saying we don’t know each other, but our likes and tastes have changed over the years. Sometimes it felt like we were two ships just passing in the night. Almost as if we were living the same life together but apart. I am by no means saying that we were in a bad place, or anything, we just seemed to be having a little bit of a disconnect. We had a lack of communication, we were reading the same book but we weren’t on the same page.

I learned a lot during our trip. To start I learned that spending one on one time with Henry just being us and talking about whatever comes to mind beats sight seeing any day! I learned that once we were on the same page all the “me” things didn’t matter anymore. I learned that it doesn’t take much to have a good time and while getting dressed up is fun, I can have a great anniversary just spending time with Henry by the water, and vacations are so much better when they are more about us than about one or the other. Henry is quite content just being inside watching the water or sitting on the pier feeding the ducks. I knew he didn’t much care for being in the water but I didn’t realize how much he got out of feeding the ducks.  I, on the other hand, love to be IN the water, and while he knows that, he didn’t realize how much joy it brings me!! 

When we left that Sunday, we were kind of miffed at each other. We both had these expectations of what our trip would be like, and hadn’t communicated them to each other. Once we were able to talk them out and come up with a planned that worked for both of us, that seemed to fit both of our needs and desires we were much happier!

Our realization about carrying our expectations got me to thinking about what expectations did I have for home? For the kids? In my friendships?

I have been challenging myself to communicate them, to let them be known and listen to the expectations others have! And life has been so much more pleasant!

My challenge for you this week is to think about what expectations you are holding on to in your relationships, have you been open with your spouse/friend/partner/ect about them? Are you finding yourself upset when your expectations are not met but the other party has no idea about why?

Open up and share about your expectations and see if there is also a change for the better in your relationship!






Mississippi Mud Cookies (With a Dash of Memories!)

Growing up in the South, it’s hard to steer clear of the cakes and cookies. There’s always someone’s Mama, Auntie, Cousin or Granny forcing you to eat from their kitchen. And by God, if you turn it down, you’ll wish you hadn’t!

Now, as the direct descendant of one of the finest cooks the Arkansas Delta had ever saw, you can guess I’ve had my fair share of delicious southern treats; but, this recipe I’m about to share with you trumps all the recipes I’ve ever partaken in.

It’s fast.

It’s easy.

And…It’s a real memory maker- in the way that it brings the whole family together in the kitchen.

Y’all. I have memories that go way back, before I even started Kindergarten, sittin’ on top of my Granny’s kitchen counter, feet a-danglin’, heart a-poundin’, mouth droolin’… just waitin’ on that Godly Mississippi Mud Cookie mix to get done boilin so we could get it out on the wax paper!

Memories like that time Granny told me not to touch the hot stove that was cookin’ those mud cookies and I did it anyway. Man, I burnt the holy Moses out of myself. And I cried out in pain. My Granny ran back in and before she even rounded the corner, (I remember this as if it were yesterday!), she said, “Now I told ya not to touch the stove but a hard head makes a soft behind!” She then made me go pull a hickory switch from that worn out tree in the backyard and she licked me a few times. Y’all, I didn’t touch a stove again until I was learning to cook on one! HAHA.

Now, my Granny cooked just about everything under the stars, and there wasn’t a day that went by that she wasn’t in the kitchen, cookin’ her little heart out. I remember to this day, this woman cooked 3 course meals at every meal. I wish I could be a fourth of the woman she was! Amongst the kids we played with on our road, several would come out of the wood works when that sweet old woman would yell to us that cookies were ready to eat. Granny’s Mississippi Mud Cookies were famous in our small piece of earth. The town knew her formally as the wife of the Chief of Police, but more often than not, people referred to her as the “cookie” woman. 


Without further adieu, here’s my Granny’s famous Mississippi Mud Cookie recipe. Lord knows, that poor woman is probably turnin’ over in her grave while I’m sharing this family relic! Now this is comin’ straight from the torn out newspaper scrap she wrote it on, and for all y’all that don’t understand the southern slang, I’ll do my best to translate:


About 2 handfuls Sugar (2 cups)
Quarter glass Milk (½ cup)
½ Stick butter
Heaping Cocoa Powder (4 tbsp.)
Quarter glass Peanut Butter (½ cup)
Dash of Vanilla (1 tsp)
3 cups of Quick Oats (yes, actually 3 cups)

In a heavy sauce pan mix sugar, milk, butter, and c. powder then bring to a rolling boil. Boil 1 minute and remove from heat.

Add peanut butter, vanilla, and oats. Mix it up good.

Drop a dollop of the mix with a spoon onto wax paper and let it stiffen up. Put in a butter bowl when cooled off to keep em fresh.


That’s all there is to it, folks! I promise, you’ll have a swarm of people in the kitchen with a sweet tooth after this hits the stove. The smell these cookies will put through the house is out of this world amazing. 

Let’s hope Granny doesn’t haunt me in my sleep tonight for putting her recipe out there for the world to see! 


Dear Younger Me

I drove home the other day with the windows down and music blaring My mind was on the road, and getting myself home as quickly as I could to be home with my babies. I wanted nothing more than to give them a big ole hug, and squeeze them tight!
I was reminded about how fleeting life can be, about how little time we have here in this place. Earlier this week I had the privilege of helping in a small way at a funeral for a young man in our community. I couldn't help but be reminded of where I myself was 14 years prior (almost to the day) when my brothers and I lives were changed.

Dear Younger Me,

Sometimes you'll be the mom, taking care of your children, running your household, delivering the kisses to the skinned up knees and elbows. While other times you'll be the 12 year old girl longing for the arms of her momma simply wishing to be told what to do next.

Sometimes you'll be on top of the world and at other times you'll feel like you're being crushed by it.

Sometimes life is gonna seem unfair. You're gonna make mistakes, and people you thought were forever won't be.

You're gonna get hurt. Your heart gonna feel like it's crumbling and you'll wonder if it is all worth the pain.

You're gonna want to run and never look back. You may even wish that you could just disappear.

I can't shelter you from all that pain, I wouldn't anyway. You don't know it yet but these hardships are shaping you and your life. You're going to look back and see everything happens for a reason. God has a plan for you and it is beautiful!

You're gonna find great love one day, and that sadness is gonna fade. Jesus is going to wrap his arms around you and he's going to pull you closer to him. He's going to bless you with arms that hold you together when your life feels like it's crashing down all around you.

Oh, love, your heart is going to break and it's going to be repaired hundreds of times. You're going to wonder if these dents and breaks will change you for the worst, but younger me, they are going to be what make this soul of yours so much more beautiful!

You'll more than just survive life! You're going to live it! You're going to do wonderful things, and you're going to know great love! You will meet other beautiful souls, and you'll learn so much about life!

You're gonna me just fine!

Older You!


The Sisterhood of Motherhood!

Yesterday for me was a mom’s worst nightmare. The tiniest Smo had, against my better judgement, a piece of string cheese. You know, the cheese with all that dairy she’s not supposed to have… yeah… I’m quite the glutton for punishment, apparently! Any parent out there that has a kid with a milk allergy knows where this is going. For the rest of you would-be empathizers, we had a little case of vomit-the-rest-of-the-day-all-over-my-mom-osis, and yes, literally- All. Day. Long.

Boob milk? Blagghhhh…

Applesauce? Yaaahghhhhhh.

GRAPES? Blupakahhhh

BANANAS? Yumm–ohaghhh

PEDIALYTE?! Anything?!!


You get the gist.

Before I move forward, I have to back up. I need to paint this picture..Because it wasn’t as soon as the cheese hit her mouth that we had to perform a gastrointestinal exorcism. It was after we had raided the fridge and fell asleep in my sister’s recliner for an hour. She finally come home to find us clonked out like Goldilocks and the two little blonde-headed rascals and proceeded to kick me out of her chair. Moving to the couch was the last thing I remember before Tiny Smo sprawled out on top of me, boob-in-mouth and comatose. Now picture it: I’m so far gone to Sleepytown, that on any other day it would’ve taken me an hour to come back. There we are in all our snoozing glory when Tiny Smo fidgets juuust right… and out comes a line of chunks, heave after heave. She’s spewing on the couch, herself–like everything in the path was down for the count. And I’m over here in a haze trying to piece together what’s happening. (In my Kevin Hart voice)…noooo… I wasn’t ready!  

Big sis said later that I didn’t even flinch, I just sat there and stared at the baby- Which I totally believe. Blind as a bat, I’m sitting there squinting at this little bath bomb, thinking, “Is this a dream? Is this kid really throwing her weight in puke up all over me right now or am I just peeing my pants.. Why is there so much? Someone turn off her water valve… It just keep comi—”

Ok, so yeah.. Not a dream… Maybe.. Definitely a surreal one if it is… Hippity Hop all the way to the Baby Boiler (shower, either way) and as I’m slowly coming back to reality, my nightmare has been slightly derailed by possibly the best sister ever. Instead of telling us to pack our crap and hit the highway like any sane person would, she told us to stay. To get in the shower. She ran around like a mad woman for a good fifteen minutes grabbing towels, cleaning puke (poor girl..), running water, doing all the mama hen duties, etc etc. In the moments following, I was just incredibly thankful that I wasn’t alone, which yes, I know, seems so dramatic.. But it made that craptastic mom moment easier to deal with. To handle what was happening without losing my mind in the process.

Reader’s Digest Version, We spent the rest of the day puking, nursing, changing clothes, sleeping– in no particular order. Every blanket my sister owns was used and christened by Tiny Smo’s stomach contents that day. Poor Trisha. Poor previously-non existent laundry pile… All the girl wants is her house to stay clean for more than 20 minutes and she had US there!

Finally the end of the day is rolling around. Everyone is tired of swimming in puke and showering for the 4th time, and I feel so bad I’ve stayed and she’s STILL puking. Discouraged and thinking, “well maybe it isn’t from her piece of string cheese.. Maybe I should get her away from her cousins in case it’s a virus”, I tell Big Sis I’m going home to fester in the vomit and let her have some peace. She adamantly says I’m not going anywhere. We are eating dinner and it will all be fine. She’s suggests we stay the night. Again, I’m overwhelmed by her. And the generosity she has exhumes. How could I ever be that kind of mom? Or person in general? And how did we ever make it without one another? (Though I feel like what I do for her pales in comparison for what she does in return!)

About that time, she remembers there’s pedialyte in the cabinet. Of course there’s pedialyte in the cabinet. I often joke to her how she’s excessively organized and over prepared for whatever life throws at her- torn clothes, uninvited guests, puking kids. Well, jokes on me because it always comes into my favor. Tiny Smo doesn’t even come up for air as she’s drinking this Pedialyte. We are all gathered in the kitchen enjoying the kids as dinner is on the stove… and we hear a gurgle. We hear a “bloop bloop”… you know it’s coming.

Ta-Da! At this point in the day, I didn’t even flinch. Just cover me, child. I couldn’t care less. It’s not like I could have moved fast enough, anyway. After the day we’d had, there was every reason in the book to be upset. A house that was no longer clean. A sink that would be finding more dishes soon. The towering laundry pile of blankets and hard-to-clean pillows… And now, a kitchen that would need to see a mop once again. The purge splashed so forcefully to the kitchen floor that it sounded just as it would when a woman’s water breaks in the movies.

Call it insanity.. Call it what you will. I death stare into Big Sis and scream, “Oh, Lawdy! My watah broke!!! Hep me Lawd!!!” Big sis and I laughed hysterically, until our eyes were filled with tears. I couldn’t catch my breath. She was clinging to the fridge to not fall over. My stomach hurt from laughing. After what seemed like ages, I stood in the pool of vomit as we attempted to compose ourselves. Big sis took off through the house once again.. but this time the laughter bellowed through the house and for a moment, laughter had broken us free from the strain that can be motherhood. I know I couldn’t do this alone. Today I realized that, as mothers, we’ve come so much closer as sisters. We are both winging this parenting thing most days, but I’ll tell you, she does it flawlessly and it’s inspiring. And no one will understand where you’ve come from, where you’ve been, and where you’re going like a sister can.
As she searched for more towels and clothes, I stood there with Tiny Smo, snuggling, smiling, puke running down both of us…And as she come trudging back in with a towel… all I could see was our Grandma. The Grandma who instilled so much goodness in her. The one who shines so brightly through her granddaughter and her very makes me want to cry.

Our Grandma would be so in love with this moment. Our children, playing together. Sisters, reunited with a bond stronger than ever. Mothers, coming together to support one another.

The Sisterhood of Motherhood!

Hope y'all enjoyed our Guest Writer Mallory Smothers! We hope to feature more post from her in the future!


Motherhood is a Journey

When I was a little girl, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted kids. I can remember outgrowing my baby dolls fairly young. 

I didn’t dream of weddings and babies and all that most little girls dream of. 

I didn’t really want to take care of others. I didn’t want the responsibility of having to teach and train another person to function in society. Especially since I felt I was failing at it so miserably. 

Fast forward to a few years later…

I’m being wheeled through a hospital puking what feels like my guts up! I’m grabbing trash cans as we make our way down the halls. I’m in the most physical pain I’ve ever been in in my life! The nurses are helping me change. I’m like a cd on repeat mumbling “I can’t do this” to myself! 

Within 3 hours, I’m holding my baby girl (whom I was CONVINCED was a boy) in my arms, marveling at the fact that I am in deed now a mother! 

I drug my husband to every birthing and  parenthood prep class that hospital had to offer! I was going to go into this motherhood thing fully prepared!! (I wasn’t!) 

My little girl and I figured this thing out. I learned to be a mother to this perfectly created being! She learned to roll and talk and crawl and walk! I was teaching her things! Important life changing things! 

She learned to feed herself with a spoon, and to say yes ma’am and no ma’am and please and thank you. She learned to say she’s sorry and to ask for forgiveness. She learned about forgiveness and about God! I felt like I was on top of this motherhood thing!! 

Soon life threw me a curve ball! A blessing in disguise really. My older handicap brother was in need of a new home. He needed someone with less health problems to take care of him, someone who could focus more on him! 

I grew up with Joe, he’s always been there! We didn’t even talk too much into detail about it when Henry and I agreed. I mean how hard could it be? I grew up helping take care of Joey! 

Well let me tell you! There’s a huge difference between helping take care of your brother as his sister and caring for him as his main care giver! It became my job to make some of his bigger decisions in life. It feel to me to make sure he was staying safe. We switched some rolls, I wasn’t just the little sister anymore. I was who was going to make sure he thrives in life! Help him not lose the life skills my mom and aunts helped him learn. When he was a baby the doctors didn’t think he’d ever walk or talk! And boy let me tell you he talks (especially when he doesn’t want to do something!) 

I found myself figuring out things I didn’t think I would have to learn at 22! Like all the behind the scenes stuff for his insurance and what not. 

I’ve had 2 more babies since Joey came to live with us! And I can’t tell you how many times he’s been mistaken as my husband because he goes everywhere with us! (Can you say awkward?) 

But I have to say it’s been amazing watching him and his nieces and now nephew grow together! Watching the child like excitement on his face as well as theirs when they do things like play in the pool or on the trampoline. Listening to my youngest daughter ask Joey to hold her hand as they walk through the sand to the lake! 

Motherhood is a journey! It often catches us by surprise with some of life’s curve balls! And for a journey I wasn’t sure I really even wanted to take, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but right here right now! 


Enjoy this pictures of Joey with his date at the special needs prom last month!!