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Deborah Cruz

Solea Pfeiffer as Satine and John Cardoza as Christian

Estimated reading time: 4 minutes

Let me tell you about the weekend that’s about to validate one of my most questionable parenting decisions…EVER! Our family of four is heading to Chicago to celebrate Bella turning 20 this Easter weekend by seeing Moulin Rouge! The Musical at the Cadillac Palace Theatre via Broadway in Chicago. Why this show? Because it’s been her favorite movie since she was 5. I know this because she chose Moulin Rouge as her 5th birthday party theme that year. Just one of the many so-called “parenting fails” that actually turned out pretty damn well.

Look, I’m not the mom who clutched her pearls at PG-13 movies ( we all remember the DUFF incident) or frantically covered eyes during kiss scenes. When 5-year-old Bella stumbled upon Moulin Rouge during our movie night, I considered changing it for about three seconds before thinking, “Eh, she’ll either love it or not give one f*ck about it.” Turns out, she was transfixed by the colors, the music, and yes, Ewan McGregor’s face. She still is and I can’t blame her. Obie Wan is quite the silver fox

When her kindergarten teacher called concerned about Bella’s detailed drawings of “the elephant love medley room,” I simply replied, “She has an eye for architecture.” When the other moms at pick-up whispered about my letting her watch “that courtesan movie,” I just smiled, sipped my spicy matcha latte and thought to myself, “Bitch have you not read my blog?”. Fifteen years later, Bella and I still laugh about it while scrolling through TikTok on the couch together. That’s right, if your son’s snapping my daughters, I’ve probably laughed at his Gen-Z failed attempt at “game”. Y’all are from the 90’s R&B era, your sons should know better. Do better Gen X/ Millennial parents.

That’s the thing about Bella and I – we’ve always been more besties than the typical mother-daughter duo. Tbh, since my girls have gotten older, its like living in a sorority house these days; we share clothes, playlists, and an unhealthy obsession with SVU and true crime podcasts. Our group texts would make my own mother faint. So when Broadway in Chicago announced Moulin Rouge was coming through town, you can bet your ever lovin mother butts, we were going. Scoring tickets wasn’t just a birthday gift – it was our next adventure together and getting those tickets was my mission.

I’ve set alerts on my phone for ticket drops and spent more time on the Broadway in Chicago website than I care to admit. Seriously, at this point I feel like either their biggest fan or their stalker. The Tony Award-winning production is running for a limited three-week engagement through April 20, and I refused to miss it. The current cast features Arianna Rosario as Satine and Jay Armstrong Johnson as Christian, and according to my deep-dive research (yes, I stalked their Instagrams), they’re incredible.

little girl celebrating moulin rouge party broadway chicago

Moulin Rouge + Broadway +Chicago = Best.Day.Ever.

Bella’s already planned our entire Chicago weekend – where to eat (some cute fusion gastropub she found), what to wear (something heavily sequined, obviously), and where to take photos for maximum social clout (so we meet again Bean). My husband and other daughter just shake their heads at us, but they’re used to our spontaneous shenanigans by now. Hey, were all on this ride together and no one gets of until I say so. You hear me?

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we sing along?” Bella texted me yesterday.

“Only one way to find out,” I replied, because that’s the kind of mom I am and we will definitely be singing along.

The show incorporates music spanning 160 years, from classical to contemporary pop. Bella’s already made us a pre-road trip playlist featuring all the mashups from the soundtrack. Our family road trips have always been heavy on the sing-alongs, much to my husband’s chagrin. “It’s like living with a three-person girl band that only knows songs from movie soundtracks,” he complains, but I catch him humming along every time. And if you want to know the truth, what we lack in talent we more than make up for in unquestionable confidence in ourselves.

What I love most about this upcoming weekend isn’t just seeing the show – it’s watching Bella experience it. There’s something magical about seeing your adult kid connect with something that shaped their childhood. That movie sparked her love for theater, art, and music in ways I never could have planned with “age-appropriate” content.

So here’s to the moms who don’t follow the parenting playbook. The ones who let their kids watch slightly inappropriate movies that somehow turn into core memories. The ones whose daughters grow up to be their best friends. Don’t be jealous, you too could have made the unpopular choice to take your 9 and 7-year old to see The DUFF instead of something rated-E for everyone.

This weekend, we’ll be the ones in the theater with the slightly-too-loud reactions, probably tearing up during “Come What May” while squeezing each other’s hands. And later, dissecting every costume detail over late-night drinks, because that’s what best friends do.

No regrets. Not a single one. Happy birthday, baby girl!

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The Addams Family musical comedy

Estimated reading time: 5 minutes

Snap snap

There are few things that bring my theater-loving family more joy than watching a beloved classic come to life on stage. When I heard that The Addams Family: A Musical Comedy was coming to the Morris Performing Arts Center in South Bend this March, I literally squealed with delight. If you could have seen me jumping up and down in my kitchen, phone in hand, you’d have thought I’d won the lottery—or at least found a way to make my children clean their rooms without threatening to sell their belongings on eBay.

A Family Affair (Both On and Off Stage)

Last Halloween, our family went all out with our Addams Family costumes. My husband transformed into the dashing Gomez, complete with pinstripe suit and mustache that made him look less like a romantic Latino lover and more like a questionable used car salesman. I channeled my inner Morticia with a floor-length black dress and dead-straight hair, which my teenagers helpfully pointed out wasn’t much of a stretch from my everyday “dead inside” mom aesthetic.

Disclosure: I was gifted tickets to attend the show. However, all opinions and love of theater are my own. 

The kids? They embraced their roles as Wednesday and Pugsley with an enthusiasm that was both heartwarming and slightly concerning. Bella’s Wednesday braids were perfect, though her scowl was perhaps too authentic—the result of me confiscating her phone for the evening. Finding fake poison bottles as props was… interesting. Let’s just say our local craft store employees now have us on some kind of watch list.

We even thought of getting our dog, Stella, involved as Cousin It with a blonde wig but we had to accept she looks more like Scooby than Cousin It. Poor thing spent the evening walking away from us and giving us looks that clearly said, “I don’t get paid enough treats for this humiliation.”

So when the American Theatre Guild announced that the Broadway National Tour of The Addams Family would be part of the 24-25 BROADWAY IN SOUTH BEND Series, taking the stage March 14-16, 2025, it felt like fate. Or perhaps a haunting. Either way, we’re here for it.

Why This Show Speaks to Us (Besides My Natural Affinity for the Macabre)

I’ve always believed that the Addams Family represents something special in American culture. On the surface, they’re macabre and mysterious, but at their core, they’re a family that loves fiercely and accepts each other completely—which is more than I can say for my relatives who still bring up my “goth phase” at every Thanksgiving dinner.

As a mother who writes about the messy truth of family life, I find the Addams Family incredibly relatable. They embrace chaos while maintaining unwavering family loyalty. Meanwhile, I’m over here just trying to convince my children that wearing the same sweatshirt for three weeks straight is, in fact, not acceptable in polite society.

The musical’s storyline centers on Wednesday Addams—the ultimate princess of darkness—who has grown up and fallen in love with a “normal” young man from a respectable family. She confides in Gomez and begs him not to tell Morticia, forcing him to do something truly terrifying: keep a secret from his beloved wife. Everything changes on the fateful night they host a dinner for Wednesday’s boyfriend and his parents.

Can anyone else relate to family secrets threatening to unravel during important dinners? Raises hand enthusiastically while having flashbacks to the time my Gabs announced that I was in “heat” after catching a glimpse of me flushing a tampon.

More Than Just a Show (It’s Cheaper Than Family Therapy)

On the heels of “Wednesday”—the third most-watched show in Netflix history—this musical feels more relevant than ever. These characters created by Charles Addams have remained beloved for generations because they remind us that “normal” is relative, and the family that embraces their uniqueness together, stays together. Or as we say in our house, “The family that’s weird together, doesn’t have to explain themselves to the neighbors… as much.”

I can already imagine my daughters’ faces lighting up when they see Wednesday on stage, though she’ll pretend to be unimpressed because she’s 20 (as of Monday) and legally obligated to act like nothing her mother suggests is cool. Gabs will undoubtedly cackle at Pugsley’s antics while taking mental notes for future torment of her sister. And my husband? He’ll be squeezing my hand during Gomez and Morticia’s romantic moments, whispering, “Why don’t we dance like that anymore?” To which I’ll reply, “Because my back went out last month when I sneezed too hard, dear.”

These shared experiences are what build our family story—one awkward, slightly twisted moment at a time.

The Details You Need (Because I’m Helpful Like That)

Performance Schedule:

  • Friday, March 14, 2025: 7:30 p.m. (Perfect for date night, assuming you can find a babysitter brave enough to watch your little monsters)
  • Saturday, March 15, 2025: 2:00 & 7:30 p.m. (Matinee for those of us who can’t stay awake past 9 p.m. anymore)
  • Sunday, March 16, 2025: 2:00 p.m. (Just in time to go home and panic about the upcoming work week)

Tickets are available at BroadwayInSouthBend.com, MorrisCenter.org, and Etix.com. If you’ve got a group of 10 or more (family reunion, anyone? Or just the number of personalities living inside my head after a decade of parenting), you can score group ticket savings by contacting Groups@ATGuild.org.

Important PSA: Only purchase tickets through these official sources to avoid inflated prices and ticket guarantee issues! Because the only thing scarier than Thing is paying double for tickets that turn out to be fake. Trust me, we’ve all been bamboozled.

Join Our Theater-Obsessed Family (We Promise Not to Judge Your Singing)

Whether you’ve been an Addams Family fan since the original cartoons (thanks mom and dad for letting me watch in syndication), fell in love with the 90s movies (Raul Julia and Anjelica Huston, forever), or discovered them through the Netflix series (which my kids insist is “actually good, Mom”), this musical promises to deliver something for everyone.

It’s the perfect show for families like mine who appreciate that sometimes the most beautiful love stories come with a touch of darkness, and the strongest families are those who celebrate their weirdness together. After all, in a world where everyone’s trying to appear perfect on social media, there’s something refreshingly honest about a family whose house looks like it’s perpetually ready for Halloween.

We’ll be there opening night, probably overdressed and definitely overexcited. Look for the family singing along a bit too loudly—that’ll be us. I’ll be the one with black lipstick slightly smeared on my teeth, whispering “please don’t embarrass me” to my husband while simultaneously taking 47 photos of our children looking annoyed.

Mysterious and spooky, altogether ooky… see you at the theater! Unless you’re normal. In which case, why are you even reading my blog?

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God help us, America

Estimated reading time: 5 minutes

Life is about to get rough and strange and really f*cking weird but I was raised that through God all things are possible and if God brought me to it, God will bring me through it. Jesus H. Christ, I really hope so. God help America. 

We’re living in times where no one is safe from accusation or above suspicion, not the innocent and not even an Episcopalian Bishop, Mariann Budde,  who did nothing more than ask for mercy in a time when we are all feeling extremely vulnerable. 

As an actual person of faith and spirituality, I’ve lived my life following 5 simple rules:

  1. Treat others as you’d want to be treated …with respect, integrity, dignity and humanity. Our default setting as human beings should be kindness and we should behave accordingly as often as possible.
  2. Never judge anyone because you never know what they’re going through, what they’ve been through or why they’re doing any of it. It is not our place to understand or approve of others or how they live their lives but rather to move through the world with compassion, empathy, love and understanding. 
  3. Respect all life and living things. Always strive to evolve to be the best version of yourself. Other people are not your competition.
  4. Stand up for what you believe in. Speak up for those who have no voice and never give up on the people and things you believe in.
  5. Do no harm. When you know better you do better so always ask yourself how would you feel if what you’re doing was happening to you instead of by you. 

For me it’s always been very simple, do what’s right even when it’s not easy. Be your honest, authentic, true self even when it’s not popular. Because I’ve realized that life is very short; too short to live life filled with hate, fear, worry and judgement. And I can’t even pretend to be someone that I’m not.

I might be quite rough around the edges and most of the time, I’m a foul mouthed hooligan, but I am who I am and I’m always going to be the “who you see ( online) is who you’ll get (irl)” every day of the week. I just have never had it in me to want to be anyone other than who I am. I’ve been through it in my life and I’m not shrinking for anyone anymore. I’m finally in my “Me” era. I’ve worked too f*cking hard to love who I am to let other peoples opinions of me be any of my business. 

All this, just to reintroduce you all to me. 

As I said, times are weird and a lot of us have been feeling sad, confused, betrayed and even hopeless over the last few weeks. I know that my entire existence ( Latina woman) feels as if I’ve been abandoned and Judas Iscarioted. To be honest, most POCs and people of marginalized communities, we’re used to this being pushed aside, ignored and disrespected and though we were shocked the way some of our fellow “we the people” countrymen  expelled their vitriol; we were never surprised.

Rest assured, it has still wounded us deeply this open and blatant “ we versus them” mentality when our beloved America was founded on the very principal of freedom from persecution and the promise of a better life for ourselves and our children. We are a country built upon the backs of slaves and immigrants, stolen land from the Indigenous people ( my people) and still the descendants of our first colonizers have the audacity to change the very virtues upon which this great nation was founded to serve all of “we the people”, not just the ones lacking melanin and weaponizing ignorance with untruths and unchecked deceit (all under the guise of love of country) when, in fact, it’s nothing more than the hatred of difference. 

I don’t know about you but I quite love having the freedom to make good choices, to care and love all humanity. This goes beyond just those who look like me.  I  want to leave this world better for my children than I found it. My biggest privilege and honor in this life has been to raise good, kind, caring, empathetic human beings.

This is the resistance; choosing to do the good and right thing especially when it’s not the popular thing. Let’s do better America. We’ve always been great and we’re greatest when we’re united. We are strongest when we care and protect our weakest. We are at our best when we work together to make life better for the collective and not the individual. 

The pursuit of happiness does not only apply to those of us whose ancestors came over on the Mayflower. It applies to those of us who were indigenous, we who were brought over against our will in shackles, and those seeking asylum from wars and violence. It should also apply to those people seeking a better, safer life. At the end of the day, if we want a better America for our children… we need to be better Americans.

There is no “us’ and “them” there is just “we the people”.  “We” includes every American, regardless of the color of their skin, their political party, race, religion, who they love or what lies between their legs.

If you really want America to be great again, we need to start by seeing everyone as equal. Unless they show you that they are lacking in humanity, decency and character. We need to care for our poor, elderly, disabled and marginalized peoples with the same care and respect as we would want to be cared for.

God help America. Help us stand for what’s right, protect the innocent and be good, decent people with morals and integrity.

God Help America

How can we be a a great nation when we abandon our morals and respect for human life in exchange for carte blanche hatred and fear mongering. We are better than this America.

What are you doing to help the most vulnerable of us? 

 

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truth about mom overwhelm

Since November, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Is it my ADHD? Perhaps, its SAD? Is it the election? Is it perimenopause? Not enough “me” time? Or am I just tapped, touched out and overwhelmed? I don’t know, but I don’t think I’m alone. I’m moved to tears by everything. I feel like I can’t physically feel happiness. Everyone wants everything from me and I have nothing left to give. This is me, feeling like a trapped animal. I just want to flee my life. This isn’t just some sad, perimenopausal mom’s truth about mom overwhelm and toxic relationships and friendships, it’s an all too relatable feeling amongst many women, especially moms. I’m hoping recognizing and acknowledging that I’m feeling a certain type of way, will help me find my way back to truest myself and that’s started by me setting boundaries. 

 

I have been feeling hopelessly overwhlemed and unable to get myself out of this funk. It’s hard to explain but if you know, you  know. I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to do this anymore. It’s too much. I quit. I can’t be responsible for everything and everyone anymore. It’s too much. I am being crushed beneath the weight of responsibility and obligations and have no time just to be still; to exist. I just need a break. Can’t I please be alone somewhere, away from everyone who wants and needs anything from me? It doesn’t even matter where? I just want to be somewhere where no one knows me and more importantly, nobody wants anything from me. Nothing. Not even one word. 

I never realized how debilitating the mom overwhlem had become.

 

I don’t know how this has happened but I feel lonely even though I am never alone. NEVER. I feel invisible even though I’m depended on to do everything. This makes things worse because then I feel like I’m doing manual labor not out of love but because that’s what people expect of me. 

 

Maybe it’s anxiety. Maybe it’s because one daughter is graduating, one came home from college, and both are leaving in the fall. I’m the one juggling and checking in and checking up. No matter what happens, if a ball drops… I’m the one who dropped it. That’s my absolute awful truth about mom overwhelm.

 

Nothing is making sense anymore. I’m tired of trying. I’m sick of being the one always making all the effort. I quit. Friendships, relationships and acquaintances ( personal and professional) that are one-sided, I’m out. Life’s too short and I am fucking done trying to make shit work for other people’s sake. What about my sake? What about me? 

I no longer have time for toxic relationships or one-sided friendships.

 

Maybe this is my midlife crisis. Perhaps it’s an awakening. Maybe it’s my reckoning. I’m mad and I’m tired and it feels like we’re all driving a hundred miles an hour toward a cliff and the fucking brakes won’t work and everyone else jumped out of the vehicle but I’m still trying to save the day. Well, I don’t give a fuck about other people’s days anymore. I promise. I quit.

It’s not me, it’s them. Fuck the vehicle, let it burn. I’m jumping out and living to see another day. Setting boundaries. I’m drawing a clear and concise line in the proverbial sand. You are either with me or you’re not. You’re either reciprocating or getting left behind in 2025. I realize this sounds cold but I have friends that I’ve been trying to hold our relationship together for decades and I finally had to face the hard truth, they don’t give a fuck if they lose me so I have to reciprocate in kind. 

 

I realized I don’t want to invest my time and energy into people who are not investing in me. Why am I caring if you’re okay if you don’t even care if I exist? This is coming from me, the woman who has object permanence. But, I am intentional about checking in on the people who matter the most. Ask anyone, I’m the one sending the Christmas cards and organizing the get togethers. I’m the one McGyvering the relationship and I’m here to tell you that I am no longer stepping into that position.

That is the truth about mom overwhelm and toxic relationships

 

I’ve been stepping into my traumas, after a couple unexpected triggers lately. Things I thought I forgot or got passed, have been humbling the shit out of me. Why am I being punished for being traumatized? Shouldn’t the perpetrator be the one living with guilt, and random rememberings?

 

I grew up poor so I’m very hesitant to let go of things. Some people call it hoarding, I collect people and things, just so I never feel afraid or alone. Wow, my therapist would be so impressed by how self-aware I am these days.I have too much because I’m afraid of letting go and not having what I need after doing so. I’m terrified of letting go.

 

Since the election results, I’ve been overcome with hopelessness in a way I have never felt before. I’ve been through my fair share of difficult times in my life but this is different. This is beyond my control in so many ways. I’m resilient but I’m also very overwhelmed and anxious.

 

Being out of control is my biggest fear. I’m not a wait & see kind of person. I’m a “give me control, I’ll get us through this” kind of girl.

 

I’ve been going through an awakening of sorts ( a shift in perspective) and the result is that I’m getting more comfortable with the idea of letting go of people and relationships that are one-sided. Fuck unrequited love and friendship. If we don’t both put in effort, in 2025, I’m walking away and not looking back. If I go missing from your life, you’re going to have to come looking because I’m done. I’m no longer letting my happiness depend on anyone else.

Does my truth about mom overwhelm and toxic friendships resonate?

Are you nodding your head right now? Have you whispered “I can’t do this anymore” into your pillow at night or as you cried in the shower, feeling simultaneously guilty and relieved just to admit it? You’re not alone, and more importantly – you’re not wrong.

If this resonates with you, here are three things you can do right now:

  1. Share this post with another mom who needs to hear she’s not failing – she’s just carrying too much. Use the hashtag #TheTruthAboutMotherhood to connect with others who understand.
  2. Join our judgment-free community in the comments below. Tell us about ONE thing you’re letting go of this year. Your permission slip might be exactly what another mom needs to read today.
  3. Sign up for my weekly newsletter where we dive deeper into setting boundaries, recognizing toxic patterns, and reclaiming our mental health and much more – without the mom guilt.

Remember: Sometimes “I can’t do this anymore” isn’t about giving up – it’s about waking up. Your overwhelm isn’t a weakness; it’s a wake-up call.

Ready to start putting yourself first? Click subscribe  to join thousands of moms who are done apologizing for having limits.

 

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How to celebrate your pet's birthday in style, Tiger Toes, Party Animal Party pack

Estimated reading time: 5 minutes

Has your pup’s birthday crept up on you, leaving you scrambling to pull together a last-minute celebration? Or perhaps you’re a pet parent who has always wanted to throw an over-the-top party for your fur baby ( you know just like the themed ones I threw for my girls throughout the years….who can forget Bella’s Moulin Rouge 5th birthday party ), but the idea of planning it all has made you want to curl up and take a nap instead of fetching the treats? Well, friends, your prayers have been answered, because PartyAnimal is here to make your dog’s special day an unforgettable extravaganza – with minimal effort on your part. This is how to celebrate your pet’s birthday in style.

Disclosure: I was provided a PartyAnimal party pack  and Tiger Toes for review purposes but all opinions are my own.

As the proud mom of the world’s cutest Dogue de Bordeaux, Stella, I know firsthand how quickly those birthdays and “gotcha days” can sneak up on you. Between work, family obligations, and keeping those four-legged kiddos entertained, finding the time to plan an epic celebration can feel like an impossible task. That is, until I discovered PartyAnimal. This brilliant brand has revolutionized the way we celebrate our furry friends’ big days, taking all the stress out of party planning so you can focus on showering your pup with all the love (and treats) they deserve.

PartyAnimal’s personalized PartyPacks are the ultimate hassle-free solution for busy pet parents. These ready-to-go kits arrive at your doorstep, packed with everything you need to transform your home into a one-of-a-kind dog birthday bash. From custom decorations featuring your pup’s adorable face to handcrafted accessories they’ll feel like a true VIP (Very Important Pup) wearing, PartyAnimal has thought of it all.

Now, I know what you’re thinking – a personalized party for your pup has to be crazy expensive, right? Wrong! PartyAnimal’s PartyPacks are incredibly affordable, with a one-time purchase price of just $98. And if you want to make this an annual tradition, you can sign up for their subscription service and receive a new, customized PartyPack delivered to your home every year for only $78. That’s 20% off the one-time price!

Ready to celebrate your pet’s birthday in style?

So, what exactly does a PartyPack include, you ask? Prepare to be blown away:

  • A personalized birthday banner starring your dog’s adorable face
  • A handmade birthday hat with your dog’s name and new age
  • A handcrafted bandana embroidered with their name and age
  • Custom birthday treat toppers featuring your pup
  • Two personalized party hats so the whole family can join the fun
  • A 50-piece balloon arch with a giant number balloon
  • A personalized pack of stickers with your dog’s face
  • A FREE electric balloon pump for easy installation

Seriously, how cute is all of that?! And the best part is, PartyAnimal has handled every single  detail, so all you have to do is throw on your party hat, bust out the pup-friendly cupcakes, and get ready to celebrate in style.

How to celebrate your pet's birthday in style, Tiger Toes, Party Animal Party pack

 

But PartyAnimal isn’t just about making your dog’s birthday extra special – they’re also on a mission to help other pups in need. The brand donates 10% of their net proceeds to dog rescue-focused charities, ensuring that every PartyPack purchase makes a positive impact on the lives of our four-legged friends. So not only are you giving your own pup the party of a lifetime, but you’re also supporting dogs across the country who are still searching for their forever homes. Talk about a win-win!

Now, I know what you’re thinking – with all these amazing features, a PartyPack must be too good to be true. But let me tell you, the team at PartyAnimal has thought of everything. Their products are made with high-quality materials that are built to last, and their customer service is truly top-notch; friendly and helpful. I felt like I was chatting with a fellow dog parent rather than a faceless brand.

And let’s not forget about the paws-itively perfect paw-cessories that’ll make your dog’s birthday celebration even more special. Take, for example, DOK’s TigerToes – innovative dog socks that provide comfort, stability, and mobility support for senior pets (or any pup who struggles with joint issues). These bad boys are specifically engineered to offer maximum traction on hardwood floors and other slippery surfaces, keeping your furry friend steady on their paws as they strut their stuff in their new birthday ‘fit.

The thick rubber soles also act as a barrier between your dog’s paws and the ground, protecting their precious pads from extreme temperatures and rough terrain. Whether you’re venturing out for a birthday walk on icy sidewalks in the winter or hot pavement in the summer, these versatile socks will keep your pup’s feet safe and comfortable. And let’s not forget about the relief they can provide for excessive paw licking caused by allergies – TigerToes are a game-changer!

So, what are you waiting for, pet parents? It’s time to start planning the ultimate birthday bash for your furry friend! Head to PartyAnimal’s website, choose your pup’s personalized PartyPack, add some TigerToes to the cart, and get ready to throw a celebration that will have tails wagging and mouths drooling (in the best way possible, of course). Your dog deserves to feel like the true VIP they are, and PartyAnimal is here to make that dream a reality.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some party planning to do – my pup’s big day is right around the corner, and I can’t wait to see the look on their face when they see their custom birthday bling. Wishing you and your four-legged bestie the happiest of birthdays!

Ready to make your dog’s birthday the talk of the town? Head to PartyAnimal.com and order your personalized PartyPack today! With hassle-free planning, personalized party supplies, and the chance to support rescue pups in need, this is one celebration your furry friend won’t soon forget.

What will you be doing this year to celebrate your pet’s birthday in style?

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Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, miscarriage, pregnancy loss

Estimated reading time: 0 minutes

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day so, I want to share my story. I wanted to remember my Declan, who I never got to hold in my arms. I don’t get to celebrate his birthday or his milestones. Instead, I mark time by mourning what could have been on what should have been his due date and on the day we lost him. I know it sounds morbid but these two days are all that I have. I don’t even get to talk about him. I’ll never have a picture of him on my wall or get to hear him call me “mommy.” I was robbed of all of it, even though I desperately wanted him.

I lost my third child on May 1, 2012. That day is seared into my soul and the wound is still as fresh today as it was that morning as we drove to the hospital. I was sitting there in the car with my husband but I felt more alone than I’d ever felt before. That day changed everything for me; not just my perspective of the world but who I was and how I would move throughout that world for the rest of my life. I’m not the same woman I was before that moment I was told that my baby no longer had a heartbeat. It’s not an easy story to tell, but I think it’s important. Maybe you’ve been through something similar, or maybe you know someone who has. Either way, I hope sharing this helps in some small way.

The Day It All Fell Apart

It was a Monday morning. April 30, 2012. Just another day, right? Except it wasn’t. I was 10 weeks and 4 days pregnant, and I had a routine ultrasound appointment to confirm everything was okay because I had some slight spotting. No big deal, I thought. I’d done this before with my other pregnancies. But the moment I saw the tech’s face, I knew. You know that feeling when your heart just… drops? Yeah, that. I wanted to disappear and stop everything.

I didn’t want to hear whatever they were about to say. I knew. She didn’t even have to say the words. But she did anyway. “I’m so sorry, we couldn’t find your baby’s heartbeat.” And just like that, my world imploded.

The Aftermath

You know what’s weird? How the world just… keeps going. There I was, my entire existence shattered into a million pieces, and outside that window, people were still walking their dogs, grabbing coffee, living their lives. It felt so wrong. Nothing felt alright. I didn’t even recognize myself. The grief and sadness were primal.

I remember sitting in my car afterward, just… wailing. I’ve never cried like that before or since. It was this primal, gut-wrenching sound that I didn’t even recognize as my own voice. And then, because life is cruel sometimes, I had to pull myself together to pick up my daughter from preschool. Can you imagine? Pretending everything’s fine when your heart is breaking into pieces? Even speaking was nearly impossible, the lump in my throat was choking me. How was I supposed to survive this?

The Silence That Followed

We hadn’t told anyone about the pregnancy yet. You know how it is – that fear of jinxing it. So when we lost the baby, it felt like this secret engulfing grief. Like I was carrying this enormous weight that no one could see.

I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. I wanted everyone to know that my baby existed, that he mattered, that I loved him fiercely even if I never got to hold him. But instead, I was quiet. Because how do you even begin to explain that kind of loss to someone who hasn’t been through it?

But this was too big to keep from those who mattered; those who loved us and would want to help shoulder the pain. I sent a text to our family and my closest girlfriends and told them the news. I dropped this catastrophic bomb that had just blew up my entire life and asked them not to contact me because talking to anyone, forming words and making sound, was too big an ask for me in this state.

Breathing felt like a privilege that I didn’t deserve. How could I go on living when my child could not? You’ve not known survivors guilt to this magnitude until you’ve had to go on living in a world where your beloved child cannot exist.

The Physical Reality

Let’s talk about something that people often gloss over – the physical aspect of miscarriage. It’s not just emotional pain; it’s physical too. I remember begging my doctor, “Please, get him out of my body.” I know that sounds harsh, but the thought of carrying my baby, knowing he was gone, was more than I could mentally bear. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I was existing in feral and  primal mode. I just wanted to disappear from everyone and everything I’d ever known.I felt shame for my body failing my child. I know, rationally, that it wasn’t my fault but when you are desperate for answers to why something so heinous happens, your mind can go to dark places.

The next morning, at 6 AM, May 1, 2012, I was at the hospital for a D&C. It felt so final. Like I was saying goodbye before I ever really got to say hello. My heart was broken wide open and I was hemorrhaging every rational thought that I had ever had. I was so detached and in so much mental anguish that I couldn’t even muster enough care to even ask my husband how he was feeling. I didn’t have the bandwidth to care about anyone; I was just trying to survive the most traumatic event of my life.

The Lingering Pain

Here’s the thing about losing a baby – it doesn’t just go away. Even now, 12 years later, I can feel that lump in my throat when I think about my Declan. That’s what we named him. He existed. He was real. He was loved. He was going to be Declan Wayne, carrying on his father’s name, as is the tradition in his family.

I still get angry sometimes. Why us? It’s not fair, and it’s okay to feel that way. Healing isn’t linear, you know? Some days are easier than others, but that dull ache? It’s always there. My arms are always just a little empty; my heart always holding space for our little boy. Every happiness is tinged with a little sadness because he should be here to celebrate with us. I don’t think there will ever be a day when I don’t feel this loss; this longing for something that’s missing. 

Finding Light in the Darkness

I won’t lie to you – this journey is tough. There were days when getting out of bed felt like climbing Everest. But here’s what I’ve learned: we’re stronger than we know. Somehow, we keep going. We bend, but we don’t break.

You know what helps? Talking about it. Sharing our stories. That’s why I’m telling you mine. Because maybe, just maybe, it’ll help someone else feel less alone. And that’s something, isn’t it?

A Message for You

If you’re reading this and you’ve lost a baby, I want you to know something: Your baby mattered. Your grief is real. Your feelings are valid. And you are so, so strong.

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to laugh and then feel guilty for laughing. All of it is okay. You’re navigating something incredibly difficult, and you’re doing it the best way you know how.

Moving Forward, Not Moving On

People talk about moving on, but I don’t think we ever really do. Instead, we move forward, carrying our babies in our hearts. We find ways to honor them, to keep their memory alive.

For me, writing helps. Sharing my story helps. And on October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, I’m lighting a candle. It’s a small thing, but it matters. It’s my way of saying, “You existed. You were loved. You are remembered.” Our Declan, he is at the top of my Dia de Los Muertos ofrenda. This is a sacred place of honor to me and when anyone comes to my house, they see his ultrasound scan. The one I insisted they take that morning before my D&C. The only tangible proof I have that he ever existed to the outside world.

A Final Thought

I know this is heavy stuff. But I’m glad you’re here, reading this. Because it means we’re in this together. We’re part of a club no one wants to join, but here we are. And you know what? We’re going to be okay. Not the same as before, but okay.

So, if you’re struggling, reach out. To me, to a friend, to a support group. Don’t carry this alone. And if you know someone who’s lost a baby, just be there. You don’t need to have the right words. Sometimes, just sitting in silence and acknowledging their pain is enough.

Remember, your story matters. Your baby matters. And you, my friend, you matter too.

Take care of yourself, okay? And know that you’re not alone in this. Not ever.

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dia de los muertos ofrenda, day of the dead altar

Hey there, fellow memory-keepers and tradition-embracers! Today, we’re diving into something that’s close to my heart: creating a Day of the Dead altar, or as it’s known in Spanish, a Día de los Muertos ofrenda.

Now, I know what you might be thinking: “Isn’t that a bit… morbid?” But trust me, it’s anything but! This beautiful tradition is all about celebrating the lives of those we’ve lost, keeping their memories alive, and maybe even sharing a laugh or two with them from beyond the veil. So, grab a cup of coffee (or a shot of tequila – I won’t judge), and let’s get started on creating an altar that’ll make your ancestors proud!

Why Create a Day of the Dead Altar?

Before we dive into the nitty-gritty, let’s talk about why we’re doing this in the first place. Day of the Dead isn’t about mourning – it’s about celebration! Why else do you think we dress as sugar skulls and Calaveras. You saw my Dia de Los Muertos make-up tutorial, this is serious business. Family is as sacred as it gets in the Mexican culture. It’s a time to remember our loved ones, share stories about them, and keep their spirits alive in our hearts and homes. Plus, it’s a fantastic excuse to eat pan de muerto and drink some good tequila. Win-win, right?

Choosing Who Goes on Your Altar

Now, here’s where it gets personal. Who do you put on your altar? Well, that’s entirely up to you, my friend. In my family, we keep it to immediate family members – parents, grandparents, siblings, and (heaven forbid) children. But hey, if you want to include your great-aunt Mildred who always snuck you candy when your mom wasn’t looking, go for it! There are no hard and fast rules here.

The key is to choose people who were significant in your life. Those who shaped you, loved you, or maybe even drove you a little crazy (in the best way possible). Remember, this is about honoring their memory and the impact they had on your life. So, whether it’s family, friends, or even beloved pets, if they left a pawprint on your heart, they deserve a spot on that altar!

Now, Let’s Get Down to Business: Creating Your Altar Step-by-Step

Step 1: Location, Location, Location!

First things first, we need to choose where to set up our altar. In my house, we use the fireplace hearth. It’s perfect – centrally located, plenty of space, and it gives me an excuse not to clean the chimney for another month.

Pro tip: If you’re using your fireplace like we do, make sure you don’t plan on lighting any fires before November 3rd. Unless, of course, you want to give your ancestors a warm welcome… and possibly burn down your house in the process. Safety first, people!

Step 2: Deck the Halls… I Mean, Altar

Now that we’ve got our spot, it’s time to decorate! This is where you can let your creativity shine. I personally love to use:

  • Colorful table runners (the brighter, the better!)
  • Papel picado (those beautiful paper banners)
  • Flameless candles (because, again, we don’t want to burn the house down)
  • LED lights (to give it that otherworldly glow)

Feel free to add your own flair! Maybe your abuela loved sunflowers, or your dad was obsessed with the Cowboys. Incorporate those personal touches – that’s what makes your altar unique. I usually add the personal touches on Dia de los Muertos. For an example, there is always pan con leche for my Abuelito Manuel and a Big Mac for my Tio Narcizo.

Step 3: Make a List, Check It Twice

It’s time to channel your inner Santa ( I know I’m mix metaphoring with my holiday vernacular) and make a list. But instead of naughty or nice, we’re listing our beloved departed. Now, I come from a family big enough to populate a small country, so I had to set some boundaries. I stick to the immediate family – from my children (I include my beloved third child, Declan, who I never got to hold but hopefully that section stays empty for a long, long time on yours) up to my grandparents.

For extended family and friends, I have a special “Book of the Dead.” No, it’s not as ominous as it sounds! It’s just a beautiful journal where I write the names of all those other special people we want to remember. This book gets a place of honor on the altar too.

Step 4: Picture This

Next up, it’s time to print some photos. This is where you get to take a trip down memory lane. Grab your Kleenex, this is the part that hits me right in my feels.  Choose photos that capture the essence of your loved ones – maybe that picture of Grandpa mid-laugh at a family BBQ, or the one of your college roommate making that ridiculous face she always did.

Now, frames. You’ve got three options here:

  1. Buy in bulk from places like Amazon. Pro: Matching frames. Con: Might break the bank.
  2. Hit up your local Dollar Tree. Pro: Cheap as chips. Con: Might look like you bought them at Dollar Tree.
  3. If you are independently wealthy and money is not an obstacle, you can hit up fancier shops and buy individual frames to match the vibe of those you are honoring on your altar.

Choose your favorites. Personally, I mix and match. It adds character… at least that’s what I tell myself.

Step 5: Arrange and Rearrange

Time to play interior decorator! Arrange those frames on your altar. There’s no right or wrong way to do this, but I like to mix and match my family and my husband’s side. Usually, people put the oldest generation at the top and work their way down. It’s like a family tree, but more… vertical. I, personally, the baby I lost at the top because for me, that is the biggest loss I’ve suffered so far in this life. 

As you’re setting up, feel free to add more decorations. Maybe some battery-operated string lights to give it that magical glow, or some marigolds (the official flower of Day of the Dead) to brighten things up. I also add Monarch mariposas ( butterflies). Why?

Butterflies hold a special significance in Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) altars and traditions. Here’s an explanation of their importance:

  1. Symbol of souls: In Mexican folklore and Aztec beliefs, butterflies are often seen as representations of the souls of the departed. They’re believed to embody the spirits of loved ones who have passed away.
  2. Return of spirits: Monarchs in particular are associated with Dia de los Muertos because their annual migration to Mexico coincides with the holiday. This timing has led to the belief that the butterflies carry the souls of the deceased back to the world of the living for this brief reunion.
  3. Transformation and rebirth: Butterflies symbolize transformation due to their life cycle. This connects to the idea of life, death, and rebirth that is central to Dia de los Muertos.
  4. Aztec mythology: In Aztec mythology, the goddess Itzpapalotl was depicted as an obsidian butterfly. This further cements the connection between butterflies and the spiritual realm in Mexican culture.
  5. Decoration: Paper or fabric butterflies are often used to decorate ofrendas (altars) as a way to welcome and represent the spirits of the deceased.
  6. Natural beauty: Butterflies add a touch of natural beauty and color to the altar, complementing the other vibrant decorations typically used.
  7. Freedom of the soul: The ability of butterflies to fly freely is sometimes interpreted as representing the freedom of the soul after death.

When including butterflies on a Dia de los Muertos altar, they’re often placed near photos of the deceased or scattered among the other offerings. They serve as a beautiful and meaningful addition to the altar, reinforcing the connection between the living and the dead during this special time of remembrance and celebration.

Step 6: Add the Finishing Touches

Now for the fun part – personalizing your altar with ofrendas (offerings) for your loved ones. This is where you really get to show how well you knew them. Did Tio Ramon have a sweet tooth? Mine did. Put out his favorite candies. Did GiGi like margaritas? A small bottle of her favorite tequila  might be in order (and no, you can’t drink it yourself… at least not until after November 2nd).

Some ideas for ofrendas:

  • Favorite foods and drinks
  • Personal items (Dad’s old pipe, Mom’s favorite lipstick)
  • Candles
  • Sugar skulls (bonus points if you make them yourself!)
  • Pan de muerto (because who doesn’t love bread?)

Remember, the more personal, the better. This is about creating a space that would make your loved ones feel at home if they were to pop in for a visit.

The Final Touch: Making It Meaningful

Here’s the thing, creating a Day of the Dead altar isn’t just about following steps or making things look pretty. It’s about creating a space for remembrance, for storytelling, for keeping the spirits of our loved ones alive in our hearts and homes.

As you’re setting up your altar, take time to remember. Tell stories about the people you’re honoring. Laugh about their quirks, cry about how much you miss them, maybe even argue with them a little (hey, old habits die hard). This process isn’t just about honoring the dead – it’s about healing the living.

So, there you have it – your step-by-step guide to creating a Day of the Dead altar that would make your ancestors proud (and maybe a little jealous they didn’t think of it first). Now, I want to see what you create!

Share photos of your altars on social media with the hashtag #MyDayOfTheDeadAltar. Let’s create a virtual community of remembrance, sharing stories and honoring our loved ones together. And hey, if you’re feeling really brave, share a story about one of the people on your altar. Let’s keep their memories alive, one post at a time.

Remember, creating a Day of the Dead altar isn’t about perfection – it’s about love, memory, and maybe a little bit of tequila. So don’t stress if it’s not magazine-worthy. As long as it comes from the heart, you’re doing it right.

Now go forth and create, my fellow memory-keepers. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll feel a little closer to those you’ve lost in the process. After all, isn’t that what Día de los Muertos is all about?

Until next time, keep those memories alive and those candles (flameless, of course) burning!

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October 7th massacre, Israeli hostages, American hostages

It’s been 348 days. 348 days of anguish, fear, and heartbreak. 348 days since Hamas terrorists shattered the peace of a beautiful Shabbat morning in Israel, unleashing a wave of brutality that shocked the world. The October 7th massacre remains a raw wound on the psyche of Israel and the Jewish people worldwide, a stark reminder of the fragility of peace and the depths of human cruelty. There are still Israeli hostages in captivity.

On that fateful day, Hamas militants broke through the Gaza-Israel barrier, embarking on a rampage that would leave over 1,200 people dead, mostly civilians, and more than 240 taken hostage.

The scenes that unfolded were reminiscent of the darkest chapters in human history – families torn apart, communities devastated, and lives forever altered. I can’t even begin to fathom what these families and the hostages are going through. The strength and will to keep fighting; to keep waiting and to keep hoping, must be a special kind of hell to those families directly affected. The weight of this atrocity bears heavily on me, it must be soul crushing to those whose family members are being held hostage and used as pawns of negotiation by the terrorist and the Israeli government. This is precious life we are talking about, not inanimate bargaining chips. The hostages have people who love and care for them; who are waiting for them to return home.

Imagine, for a moment, that it was your family.

Your daughter, calling from a music festival, her voice trembling as she whispers that she’s been shot and is hiding in a bomb shelter. The line goes dead, and you’re left with the horrifying knowledge that you may never see her again. Or your elderly parents, peacefully enjoying their retirement in a kibbutz, suddenly ripped from their home and dragged across the border into Gaza. These aren’t just stories – they’re the reality for hundreds of Israeli families who have been living this nightmare for 348 agonizing days.

The brutality of the October 7th attacks cannot be overstated.

Hamas terrorists didn’t just kill – they reveled in their cruelty. They beheaded infants, burned families alive in their homes, and paraded naked, bloodied bodies through the streets of Gaza. The joy they took in the degradation of Jewish lives is a chilling echo of humanity’s darkest moments. It’s a stark reminder that the evil that fueled the Holocaust still exists in our world today.

As we mark this somber milestone, it’s crucial to remember that hostages are still being held by Hamas. According to Israeli information as of September 2024, Hamas holds 66 hostages believed to be alive and 35 bodies. For 348 days, their families have been living in a state of suspended animation, clinging to hope while fearing the worst. Every day is a battle against despair, every night a struggle against nightmares. The world may have moved on to the next headline, but for these families, time stopped on October 7th.

The plight of the hostages is a humanitarian crisis that transcends politics.

These are not bargaining chips or political leverage – they are human beings, with families who love them and futures that have been cruelly interrupted. Children who should be in school, young adults whose lives were just beginning, elderly individuals who deserve peace in their golden years – all are being held in conditions we can scarcely imagine.

As we grapple with the ongoing conflict, it’s important to acknowledge the complexity of the situation. The loss of innocent Palestinian lives in Gaza is a tragedy that cannot be ignored. Every civilian death, whether Israeli or Palestinian, is a loss for humanity. However, we must be clear: Hamas, not the Palestinian people, is the enemy. Hamas’s actions on October 7th and their continued use of human shields in Gaza demonstrate their utter disregard for human life – Palestinian and Israeli alike.

The international community must unite in condemning Hamas and demanding the immediate and unconditional release of all hostages. This is not a matter of politics – it’s a matter of basic human rights and dignity. We cannot allow the world to forget, to become complacent, or to accept this situation as the new normal.

As individuals, we have a responsibility to keep the memory of October 7th alive and to advocate for the hostages’ release. Contact your elected officials, share the stories of the hostages on social media, and participate in rallies and events to show your support. Let the families of the hostages know that they are not alone, that the world has not forgotten their loved ones.

To the families of the hostages:

Your strength and resilience in the face of unimaginable pain is an inspiration to us all. We stand with you, we grieve with you, and we will not rest until your loved ones are brought home.

To the hostages themselves, if by some miracle these words reach you:

The world has not forgotten you. We are fighting for you every day. Stay strong, hold onto hope, and know that you are in our hearts and prayers always.

As we mark 348 days since the October 7th massacre, let us renew our commitment to justice, peace, and the sanctity of human life. Let us work towards a future where such atrocities are unthinkable, where hatred gives way to understanding, and where all people can live in safety and dignity.

We must not lose hope. For the sake of the hostages, for the memory of those lost on October 7th, and for the future of  Israelis and all mankind, we must continue to fight for justice, peace, and the triumph of humanity over hatred.

Bring them home. Every single innocent life is precious.

What you can do to help:

  1. Contact your elected officials today. Demand that they prioritize the release of the Israeli hostages and condemn Hamas’s actions. Your voice matters.
  2. Share the stories of the hostages on social media using the hashtags #BringThemHomeNow and #October7Massacre. Keep their names and faces in the public consciousness.
  3. Participate in local rallies and events supporting Israel and the hostages. Show the world that we have not forgotten.
  4. Donate to reputable organizations working to support the families of the hostages and victims of the October 7th attacks.
  5. Educate yourself and others about the ongoing situation. Combat misinformation and promote understanding.

Remember, silence is complicity. Speak up, act now, and be part of the effort to bring the hostages home and prevent such atrocities from ever happening again.

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You won't be across the hall. One mom's true account of taking your firstborn to college.

How do I begin to let you go?

In one week, I’ll be taking you to college drop off

But how am I supposed to let you go?

The very thought shatters my heart into a million pieces

It hurts so badly that I cannot breathe

I’m sobbing so hard at the thought of not being able to just look over and see your smile

How am I supposed to drive away knowing everything will change

And nothing will ever be the same

If it were up to me, I’d never let you I go

I know that sounds selfish but that’s a mothers heart 

But I will and I’ll hold in my tears and let you go when all I want to do is hold on tighter 

Every “last“ chips away at my armor

How am I supposed to survive this letting go?

You were the first person I gave my heart completely to and you’ve held it tightly in your litttle hands since the first moment they laid you on my chest

Who am I without you?

I can’t imagine a day without seeing your face

You are the greatest love story of my life

Truth be told, I don’t want you to go but that’s nothing I’d ever say out loud

I love you more than words can convey

I’m hopelessly sad for myself but I’m so excited for every new first you get to experience

Your dreams are bigger than this town and your life is bigger than this house 

It feels like doing anything that doesn’t include giving you my full attention, is a waste of precious moments

I just walked across the hallway to see your sleeping face one last time before you leave me

I’m not sure my heart was made for missing you

How will I survive knowing you’re not just across the hallway?

A mothers love is an unbreakable tether, no matter how far you go, we’ll always be connected

But both of us know, this will change everything

We’ll never be who we are today

You won’t be across the hall….

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asymmetry in breast tissue, mammogram

Estimated reading time: 4 minutes

Last Wednesday, I went in for my routine mammogram and annual visit to my gynecologist. These exams have become a box to check off, since my hysterectomy. In fact, I know many women who get a hysterectomy and think they’re done. They think they’re safe. I thought I had passed the days of gynecological surprises. I thought the days of impromptu biopsies, year long periods, in office D & Es and miscarriages were over. However, last Thursday, I was informed that my mammogram warranted a call back and further testing.

“We found asymmetry in the tissue of your right breast.”

That’s all that I heard. I’ve never wanted to rewind time and unhear anything so much in my life since 2012. I’m in shock, I’m sad, I’m mad but mostly, I’m scared. I don’t usually do “scared”. I’ve spent a lifetime fighting through and overcoming hard things. I know it sounds selfish and simple but I don’t want to have to do this. 

I’ve done research and mostly everything I’ve read says it’s probably nothing but until I get my follow up mammogram and ultrasound, I won’t know. I’m doing that this morning. In fact, this post will go live while I’m getting it done. The Big Guy and our girls insisted on going with me. I told them no but then I remembered being alone and getting that news in 2012 and I accepted their support but then part of me feels guilty because what if it is bad news and I can’t shield them from it? I won’t be able to hide my breakdown. I know my bandwidth, I won’t be able to protect them from the hurt and that is devastating to me.

I’m so scared and I don’t know how to process any of this so I’m writing it all here.

I’m more scared than I’ve been in a long time. The last time I was this scared was when I was spotting while pregnant with my third child. Spotting just like I’d done with both pregnancies before. I went in to see my Ob/Gyn as a formality, just to be sure. I was positive that they’d tell me everything was fine and send me on my way. I went to the appointment alone. Instead, I was told that my baby no longer had a heartbeat. Since then, I take nothing for granted and I know that nothing is guaranteed. 

I’m so scared.

I’ve spent the entire weekend experiencing a gamut of emotions.I’ve cried. Sobbed in the shower. I’ve been angry. I’ve been terrified. I’ve slept a lot because being scared is exhausting. I flashed forward and looked backward. I’ve taken an inventory of my life and all the things I’ve done and all the things I still want to do. There is so much more life I want to live.

I’m scared.

I want to comfort my husband and my daughters because they’re scared too ( even though each of them has put on a brave face and told me everything is going to be fine), but I’ve realized something about myself, I can’t give from an emotionally overflowing with fear or sadness cup. When I’m this scared, I shut down out of sheer self-preservation. I can only turn inward to keep my composure. If I think too much or talk about it too much, my thoughts go to dark places and my emotions will run wild. I can’t afford to let that happen right now. I need to stay strong if I need to fight.  

I’m scared because the last time I thought everything was going to be alright, everything went all wrong. 

There is nothing I can do but follow up and face my truth. I’m praying it’s nothing. I’m praying for it to be benign. But I’m more scared than I can put into words and this fear has me bursting at the seams. I keep telling everyone I love that I’ll be okay but the truth is that I don’t know if I will be. If you are the praying kind, or just someone who knows and loves me, I welcome all of your thoughts and good healing and healthy vibes. 

I’m trying my hardest to be strong but I am triggered and terrified in ways that I never imagined.

I’m scared and I don’t know what to do. But I wanted to take this opportunity to encourage you all to please take care of yourselves. Go in for your well-visits. Get your mammograms. Do all the things you need to do to be and stay healthy.

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