The TRUTH About Motherhood

Author: Deborah Cruz

Hershey’s and Catching Fireflies are what Summer is Made For
This is a compensated post for MarketVision and its advertiser Hershey’s. All opinions are mine alone.
Summer time is here, though you might not know that if you live in the Midwest. Our weather has been more unpredictable than Lady Gaga on stage. You just never know what’s going to happen. However, one thing we do from spring until autumn, whether it’s 50 degrees or 90 degrees, is stay up late, sit around a campfire roasting marshmallows under clear skies and talk about everything. Doesn’t everyone?
This is a tradition that my husband and I have done every year since becoming parents. It started out as a way to just relax after the babies went to sleep, when we first became parents because back then there wasn’t a lot of time for just us. It was a way to be home but enjoy some alone time (well, until the baby started crying and needed one of us, anyways).
As the girls got a little older, they loved sitting around the campfire in their tiny kid’s chairs, in their pj’s as we roasted marshmallows for them and made s’mores. Sure, eating s’mores at bedtime is not the most responsible thing to do with toddlers but boy, did they love it. The night ended with two little ones, up way past their bedtime, passed out in our laps, smelling of campfire and tiny cheeks covered in bits of marshmallow and smears of chocolate. It may not have been the responsible thing to do but it was the right thing to do for making childhood memories.
It’s hard when your child’s bedtime is 7 p.m. but it doesn’t get dark until 9 p.m. We could never be the parents who made our kids miss out on catching lightening bugs. There’s just something intrinsically peaceful about sitting around a fire under the night sky, as children clamor about the backyard collecting fireflies as adults swap stories. A night filled with laughter is absolutely magical.
These days the girls are a little older and bedtime in the summertime is whenever you fall asleep. We spend lots of time outside in our backyard under a blanket of stars. Most nights you will find us with the people we love the most sitting around a fire pit roasting marshmallows for s’mores as the smell of burning wood fills the air and the sound of a crackling fire serenades us. The girls aren’t sitting on our laps as much these days but they’re never far away, usually within a few feet, watching movies under the stars and giggling with their girlfriends over whatever PG movie is playing in the yard that night.
Our girls are growing up fast. Life goes by too fast. But there is one thing we can always count on, summertime and time together in our backyard. Bonding over Hershey’s, graham crackers and marshmallows since 2005.
If you love Hershey’s S’mores as much as we do, you can enter a Hershey’s S’mores Grilling Gift gift set here! So enter and start your summer tradition of Hershey’s s’mores which is sure to bring your family closer together.

Even if you don’t win, everyone can use the above coupon to get $.50 off your next purchase.
Let Hershey’s be a part of your family traditions.
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2015/06/05
Caitlyn Jenner through the Eyes of a Child
The photo above is my favorite of Caitlyn Jenner because I can see a smile. As a mom, I am not perfect. Far from it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong. I’ve yelled.Hell, I’ve roared so loudly that I scared my kids. My kids have been known to blurt out the occasional profanity.Patience is not one of my virtues, not even a little bit. I get grouchy when I get overwhelmed and sometimes I say things that I wish I hadn’t but I love my kids and I’m trying my best to raise good solid, caring, citizens of the world.
I let my kids see me make mistakes and apologize. I let them see me fall and get back up. I let them see that to succeed at anything, it takes a lot of hard work but at the same time, anything is possible if you are willing to do the work. I teach my kids that actions have consequences, lying is a terrible flaw that breaks trust and somethings can’t be undone. I teach them to forgive but remind them that it is impossible to forget so think carefully before you say or do something terrible to someone.
I teach my girls that parental love is unconditional but that life is not fair. Life is cruel and hard at times. People can be mean and small minded. They know this is not how we choose to live. I try to open their minds and hearts to everything because there is so much wonderful to see in the world and by narrowing their capacity for caring, I am minimizing their chance for happiness.
When I saw Caitlyn Jenner on the Cover of Vanity Fair on Monday, my first thought was, “She did it. She can finally be herself.” That is huge for anyone but especially for someone who has been living life in the wrong body for 65 years.
It takes balls (no pun intended) to transform. But to do it when your life is lived so publicly takes a special kind of bravery and courage because you know, for a fact, that the entire world is judging you. The entire world is watching and, in most cases, waiting for you to fail.
Most people would have just given up on the dream of living the way they wanted because 65-years-old is pretty late in life to start over. It’s retirement age. I guess in that way it is the perfect time to start living for yourself. She earned it.
I found it sickening how this momentous occasion was reduced to, “Wow! She looks amazing!” Caitlyn Jenner does look amazing but even if she was the ugliest woman alive, she was finally a woman. She was finally living in the skin that she felt comfortable in. This whole thing was not about vanity. It was about living the life you are meant to live because without doing so; you are not living at all. Why society feels that it is okay to reduce everything about women down to what lies between our legs, the size of our asses and what we look like rather than our earned accomplishments is beyond me.
I am very open with my girls about everything because I don’t think hiding reality from them is doing them any favors. They are Latina and female and one day they will be Latina women, which means no matter how you slice it, they will always be a minority.
They are 8 and 10-years-old and they already understand what many adults are unwilling to accept; that people are male and female and sometimes the outsides don’t match the insides, all people love differently, people look differently, people worship differently, people come from different countries, speak different languages but they know that we all share one very important trait…we are all humans and deserve to be treated with respect and human kindness.
I am trying my best to raise good people. Children who are tolerant, understanding and accepting of differences. I want my children to recognize differences and embrace them. I don’t believe in a blind world but I do believe in a world where we can love one another for who we are as human beings and what race we are, who we worship, who we love or where we come from should not factor into that equation. I want my children to see deeper than just what people “appear” to be because I want them to see each person they meet as an individual. This is how I am raising my daughters.
They’ve been following the Caitlyn Jenner story with me and I explained that Bruce was born in a man’s body but has always felt like a woman on the inside. I explained it by asking them if they were born into a boy’s body how would they feel and what would they do. They said they would be unhappy and feel uncomfortable. I explained that was exactly how Caitlyn has felt for 65 years and they said, “Then he should change his outsides to match his insides.” Children see everything so simply because they have not formed all of the prejudices of the world. They hear that someone is unhappy and they immediately think, “Go find your bliss!” I love that about them.

When I showed them the photos of Caitlyn’s transformation, because they had already seen the photos of him pre-transformation, they both said she looked pretty and they smiled. My oldest said, “ I bet she’s happy now because she looks like what she feels like.” There was no scoffing or snickering or confusion. My girls got it. Caitlyn is who Bruce always was on the inside. They were not baffled or amazed or surprised. They thought it was great and then they went on about their business. As a mom, I feel like I’m doing something right.
I love that they don’t think that Caitlyn Jenner is something to break the Internet or even blow their minds but instead a beautiful metamorphosis of a person into whom she was always meant to be. I love that they think this was no big deal because everyone should be able to go get their happy. I know what a big deal it was but wouldn’t it be beautiful if we could all live in a world where we could be ourselves, get our happy, and no one scoffed or judged?
How would you explain the Caitlyn Jenner transformation to your children?

Photos of Caitlyn Jenner via Vanity Fair
2015/06/04
Gray Hairs in Weird Places and Other Surprises of Being an Adult
It started with 3 gray hairs. I got my first one when I was 30 and I joked to the Big Guy that he was to blame. With each child, another gray hair appeared. And then one day, it was like the three gray hairs got together and decided that it was their sworn duty to populate the right side of my head. At first, for many years, I plucked my three gray hairs. I took joy in knowing that many women younger than I had many more gray hairs. Not that I took joy in their misfortune but I had to enjoy the small victories, afterall, the baby weight wasn’t going anywhere.
But now, if I try to pluck all the gray hairs, I will have a definitely noticeable bald spot because when half your head is bald…people tend to notice. F*CK! I gave in and I dyed it. No biggie. I dyed it in my 20’s all the time, you know, to make it maroon or red or highlight the hell out of it. Back when I had money for such luxuries. Those were the days, back when I got massages, manicures, pedicures and was always tanned. For many years, I gave up the nails because long nails and babies don’t mix ( same reason I gave up the dangly earrings) it was just too dangerous to chance.
I went back to manicures and pedicures but I just don’t have the time in my schedule to go get my nails filled every two weeks and I refuse to not, so I spent 3 hours removing them myself Friday night. OUCH! I love pedicures but now, I’m obsessed with flesh eating disease and I just can’t enjoy myself. It’s like eating a Big Mac, too damn risky. Then tanning, well, of course, I’ll be the freckled Mexican to get melanoma and that just scares me too much. Spray tan it is. Wait, but then someone might have to see my in a bikini because I’m not crazy for the Oompa Loompa look of the spray tan booths. So, pasty and pale it is with a side of freckles please, govner.
But back to my gray hairs.
I suppose when I get the time this summer, I will go spend the $200 to have my hair cut and dyed. I can wait. And then it happened. As I was plucking my womanstache ( because even though I’m seemingly going bald from plucking my grays on my head, the hair on my upper lip is going stronger and darker than ever) I noticed my eye brows needed sorting out after the explosive cyst debacle. That’s when I saw it…a gray hair in my eyebrow. Wait! Not one but two!!! What am I Santa? Guess where it was? The right side of my face. The left side was the swollen explosive side last week. Maybe it’s time for me to try some Womens Vitamins for Hair Loss and overall hair health.
To add insult to injury, just as my vision is now clear as a bell, I noticed the unthinkable…a white eyelash! What the? Is that even a thing? Thank God I’m hardwood down below because if I ever see a gray pubic hair, I may just die of old age on the spot!
My question to you is does the salon offer services for dying rogue gray hairs in your lash and brow area because I need that service. It took me 20 minutes to single out that one silver lash. Glad that I found Advanced Regenerative Medicine of Idaho hair loss treatment to aid in this dilemma.
You know when I was a kid, I used to say that I was half White and Half Mexican ( because I am a half breed…insert Cher song here) and I would draw an imaginary line down the center of my body. My parents are 65 and my dad only has a couple gray hairs and barely a crows foot. My mom’s family gray in their 20’s. I think I’ve finally figured out which side is which…the right side is definitely my Caucasian side and the explosive left side, is definitely my Latina side.
Don’t even get me started on my achy bones, dark spots and skin tags. Getting old sucks. Thank goodness for wisdom and alcohol. I’m looking forward to the inevitable dementia that will set in and cause me to forget all of this.
What caused your first gray hairs?
2015/06/02
Netflix Hit the Mark with Grace and Frankie
I am a proud member of the Netflix #StreamTeam but all opinions and binge watching of Grace and Frankie were all my own.
As many of you might have read, this month has been quite a bit of crazy. It was non-stop go-go-go until life intervened and brought it all to a screeching halt when life hit me right in the eye with a nasty infection and no, that’s not a sexy euphemism for anything. At first, I was freaking out because I had so much to do and found myself completely out of commission. Add to that the antibiotics that had the side effect of not only destroying my digestive system but had the added effect of spontaneous narcolepsy. I guess it wasn’t too bad, especially since the vision in my left eye was blurry and I couldn’t work anyways because…you need sight to work on the Internet to see all the sees. I found myself partially blind and almost completely unplugged. It was like it was 1987.
Anyways, I spent my week and a half laying on my couch contemplating my imminent demise, adapting to the new unimproved elephant man face that I was sure to be sporting for eternity and feeling sorry for myself so I did what anyone in my position would do, I binge watched Netflix with my one good eye, in between trips to the bathroom, crying and naps. I finished season one of Bloodline so I had to find something else to distract me.
I kept thinking about my poor kids being known at school as the kids of the lady with the weird face. I felt like Gilbert Grape’s Mom. Then I started trying to rationalize the situation. Hey, there are kids with two mommies, two daddies, or a mommy, daddy and a step mommy and/or daddy. Some kids live with their grandparents and some live with aunts and uncles. My kids would just be the kids from the family with the super tall dad and the mom with the weird face who does that crazy thing “blogging” for a living. I needed to get out of my head so I searched for something to make me feel better. I needed something to put my “weird face” mom status in perspective. I need something to make me laugh, cry and get out of my own head.
I found Grace and Frankie.
Netflix’s new funny and fearless original comedy featuring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston, is a perfect example of how today’s families can shift, rearrange and blend in unexpected ways. When Grace and Frankie’s husbands, who are in their 70’s, leave them after 40+ years of marriage—to be with each other—the women find themselves facing a change that they never expected, especially at this point in their lives. But they shift their perspective to get through it together with the support of their new blended family and, of course, a wicked sense of humor.
Grace and Frankie is a testament to women supporting women, sisterhood overcoming all the unexpected hardships, shifts and changes that life throws our way. Friends are what sustain us throughout life. It starts on the playground and goes on throughout our lifetimes. Shared experiences and memories only strengthen that bond.
It is also a beautiful reminder that families come in all shapes, sizes, sexual preferences, colors and beliefs. Family are the people who stand beside you, love you and support you and that is all that matters. It’s more than blood and genetics, it’s love and friendship.
Grace and Frankie had me laughing so hard and then crying the next. Life is beautiful and wonderful and unexpected. Life is messy and complicated and not usually what we planned for. In the end, we need to be happy and loved, the heart wants what the heart wants and the heart doesn’t adhere to social norms or expectations. Grace and Frankie is by far one of my favorite new shows on Netflix.
I also found another brand new show that I’m hooked on, Between, which is Sci-Fi series starring Jennette McCurdy. A mysterious disease strikes a small town’s adult population in this tense-sci-fi drama. Pretty Lake’s teenagers think they have their futures in sight with college, the military and even motherhood. But suddenly the town’s grownups start dropping like flies from some unknown plague and the government quarantines the town. Survivors quickly realize that they are trapped, no one is allowed in or out and they are going to have to figure out how to survive on their own, with no adult supervision or guidance. I’ve only seen one episode because unlike most Netflix series, this series is weekly but from what I’ve seen totally worth it. And don’t forget, Orange is the New Black is back on June 12, 2015. I will definitely be watching, will you?
What was your favorite show on Netflix this month?
What did you think of Grace and Frankie?
2015/05/30
That One May when My Face Exploded

You’ve all probably been wondering where the hell I went this May. Maybe? Maybe you didn’t even notice I was gone. It is May, after all. Like many of you, I went down the rabbit hole that is May beginning with May 1^st, marking the worst day of my life, and filled with non-stop obligations.
Yes, some were absolutely amazing like seeing my girls perform in their end of the year ballet showcase and violin concerts. I got the littlest one through first communion. I celebrated 6 years of The TRUTH! The Big Guy and I celebrated 16 years of friendship and marriage. Speaking of the Big Guy, he turned the big 4.0! Did I mention that the littlest turned 8? Also, we participated in the neighborhood’s annual garage sale and to bookend the craziness, last week Monday, I woke up with my left side of my face so swollen that my eye looked like it was drooping and melting down my face. My first thought, “Oh shit! All of this stress, I have Bells Palsy!”
I promptly freaked out, cried and headed immediately to the RediMed…all on the same morning that my littlest had a field trip to a nature reserve. Stress much! Thankfully, the Big Guy was on hand to step in and chaperone as I headed to the doctor to deal with what I was sure the beginnings of a stroke. Then my vanity kicked in, all I could think of was all of the traveling and conference attending that I was going to have to do with my droopy face. I hadn’t even the mental fortitude to think about my entire future.
I sat there in the waiting room with my face increasingly swelling, looking more and more like Rocky after a fight by the second. Trying my best to maintain my composure. Shaking, just a little bit but not enough to knock my purse out of my lap or anything.
I was the first patient they saw that morning After, getting a 145/90 blood pressure reading, in my mind confirming my suspicions that I must be stroking out, my doctor did an exam and said that it was an infection that was causing the swelling. I told her of my bells palsy fears and she asked me to move my face that was how she was “sure” that it wasn’t a stroke.
Nothing a 10-day supply of hearty, vomit and diarrhea inducing antibiotics wouldn’t fix up in no less than 10 days. Oh and the giant tumor looking bump that was sitting on my eyebrow that had developed over night, no worries, “It “should” go away with the infection. But if it grows or you develop any other symptoms or feel “weird” go directly to the hospital!”
Uhm, okay?
“The antibiotics should pull the infection to a head and it should burst on it’s own. If not, come back in a few days after the meds have kicked in and we will lance it!”
Uhm, okay? Did she know that this WASN’T a pimple? I’m getting more deformed by the moment and she wants to pop my zits.
She called the next night. My face was swelling even more and the thing above my eye was causing me to have blurry vision. I was beginning to look like the elephant man. “I am not a freak.” I was still not convinced that I wasn’t going to die or be permanently maimed.
The next morning, I put on my Wonder Woman panties and prayed the rosary (hey, you have to exhaust all of your resources) I went back in. Well, first I called my regular doctor who was out. Then I called the RediMed. The nurse was supposed to call me back but I had the girls’ end of the year ballet performance to attend that night and the line at RediMed usually runs 2 hours deep. So, impatience got the best of me and I headed out. By the time I got to the check-in window, the nurse was just sitting down to call me. Yep, I’m sure they thought I was a hypochondriac but one look at my face should have cured anyone of any suspicions.
I was feeling better but I was looking much worse. I was terrified at what might be happening. I was feeling awful from the 3X a day dose of Keflex, and every time I looked in the mirror I had a panic attack. I got a new doctor this time, the dad of the little boy in my daughter’s tap class. Embarrassing. My world is getting entirely too small.
He was very friendly and my blood pressure reading of 180/95 let him know that I was in full on freak out mode. He referred to the notes on my diagnosis from 2 days prior, examined my face and actually listened when I told him that the “tumor” on my eyebrow was not puss filled but was in fact a very small, almost invisible, chicken pock scar from when I was 11.It had always been there in my eyebrow but it NEVER did this before.
Upon further inspection, he confirmed it. We had to lance this thing. Apparently, the infection had caused something in the inner working of my face to become blocked and that caused the swelling. And on top of that, just beneath the surface of my chicken pock scar there was a teeny sebaceous cyst lying dormant UNTIL the infection which caused the cyst to grow rapidly. But that was not confirmed until after he lanced the CYST and realized that it was not filled with infection but instead some sort of cottage cheese substance. Oh yeah, I know, TMI! How do you think I felt? It was coming out of my face.There I was with my face looking like I had just gone 10 rounds with Stallone after finding Adrian in bed with Apollo Creed and this doctor/friend by association was on top of me on what had to be the most uncomfortable table on the planet, using his full weight to squeeze cottage cheese out of my already, extremely tender monstrosity of an inflamed cyst. He kept asking if I needed to take a break and was very surprised by my lack of screaming and crying at this barbaric tactic. I told him, “I’ve given birth twice. I’m good. Just finish.”
He said, “Well, now you’ve given birth three times. Let’s name it!” I was not amused. He apologized as he wiped the teaspoon worth of cottage cheese (his estimation not mine, as I was blind), blood and water from my head. He bandaged me up, sent me home and said, “See you tonight (at the recital).”
It was traumatic and I had to wear a giant Band-Aid to the ballet, which I’m sure has the ballet mom rumor mill speculating that the Big Guy beats me in between tap and ballet classes. Anyways, today my vision is completely restored and the tumor atop my eye is no longer and has returned to its previous tiny scar. It’s a little larger than before but the doc said it could be a couple weeks before it completely goes down. If not, there is always surgical removal.
So, today I’m telling you all about it because I’ve been on a weeks worth of Xanax, antibiotics, the bump is a blip and I can see again so I am not freaking out about stroking out. Now, I can laugh about it. But of course it all finished just in time for shark week to start. Damn you May, you started with devastation, filled with love, chaos, endings and a perceived near death experiences only to go out in a blaze of hormone migraines, cramps and moodiness. Thank God there is only 2 days left.
Hope your May was better than mine! I just thought y’all might want to know why I disappeared.
How was your May?
2015/05/29
Choose You This Summer
This is a compensated campaign in collaboration with NEUTROGENA® and Latina Bloggers Connect but all opinions are my own.
The weather has been beautiful lately. All these blue skies, sunshine and warm weather will soon give way to lazy days spent lounging by the pool. These are my favorite but it also brings with it my alter ego, the freckled Mexican. Yep, I’m an anomaly. I love to be tanned but with it come my 1 million freckles. I think they are adorable spread across the bridge of my 7-year-old’s nose but not so much on my own face.
I want to avoid the congregation of freckles and stave off any brown spots, so I have started wearing sunscreen like it’s my job and lots of big floppy hats and giant sunglasses when I’m down at the pool. Seriously, people probably think I’m some sort of celebrity. If it weren’t for all of my pack mule antics of carrying all of our own sunscreen, snacks and towels I’m convinced people would mistake me for Sara Ramirez more often.
I’m Latina so I will never have lily-white alabaster skin, nor do I want it, but I would like to have a nice, even olive complexion and more importantly, I do not want skin cancer. Do you know that skin cancer is the number one of preventable cancers? Melanoma scares me. It’s right behind breast cancer on my list of cancers that I obsessively fear.
Let’s face it; my breasts didn’t work for breastfeeding so I’ve convinced myself they are out to get me. Just like my freckles, I see them appear and my mind instantly jumps to the elderly gentleman that used to come into the store I worked at, missing half of his nose because of skin cancer.
Tanned skin is beautiful but you have to be safe and protect it if you want to avoid cancer and wrinkles. Don’t even get me started on wrinkles. The older I get the more I feel like Dracula in the sunlight but instead of disintegrating or bursting into flames, crows feet and laugh lines are slowly, creeping in. So now instead of just moisturizing, I’ve been using sunscreen all the time.
NEUTROGENA® Ultra Sheer sunscreen offers superior sun protection and skincare benefits in one elegant formulation. NEUTROGENA’s Dry-Touch technology instantly absorbs excess oils and leaves skin feeling soft, clean and fresh—never greasy or ghostly white. What’s more, the sunscreen is non-comedogenic and water and sweat-resistant, so it won’t clog pores and run into eyes, it’s perfect for wearing every day.
The Wet Skin is a revolutionary line of sunscreens that are specifically designed to adhere to and protect wet skin, dampened by swimming, sweating or humid weather. It’s perfect for long days at the pool or when working out. I like to take long walks around the neighborhood when it’s nice out and Neutrogena makes sure the entire family is protected, especially my daughters who do happen to have the lily-white alabaster skin. You should also look at what is being made in Switzerland as they are just brilliant now so you can have a look at the best Swiss beauty & skincare brands to see for yourself.
Keeping your skin healthy is more important now than ever. You protect your children’s skin from the harsh effects of the sun; now do the same for yourself. Your kids need you around. I want to be around for my grandchildren someday, preferably with my entire face in tact.
If you’d like to find out more about how to protect your skin, please join us at our NEUTROGENA® #ChooseSkinHealth Twitter Party on May 19th at 7-8PM EST / 4-5PM PST.
Choose you this summer. How are you choosing skin health?
This is sponsored post in collaboration with Neutrogena® and Latina Bloggers Connect. However, all opinions expressed are my own.
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2015/05/13
Being a Mother is So Much More than I Ever Could Imagine
This is a compensated campaign in collaboration with Johnson’s® and Latina Bloggers Connect but all opinions about being a mother and memories are my own.
Being a mother is so much more than I ever thought it could be. My daughters are everything to me. That is not an exaggeration. I realize that sounds antiquated and I never knew I had it in me to be this kind of woman. I’ve always been independent and self-sufficient. There was a brief time I my late teens, early twenties where I was pretty dependent on boyfriends because when you are that age your entire life revolves around the people you call your friends and the boy you date. Then I grew up and got married.
We had a great time, the two of us. I married the perfect guy for me, as I like to say he was everything, I never knew I always wanted and since the first day we met, we’ve been together. He calls me his soul mate; I call it meant to be. I wasn’t even supposed to be there when we met. There were a million reasons we should’ve never met but we did and I thought that was the biggest love I could ever have and then I had my daughters.
Two things happened when I became a mom. I fell deeper in love with the Big Guy than I ever thought was possible. I mean who doesn’t love a man who loves a child? It’s like kryptonite to my uterus. The other thing that happened, I fell completely head over heels in love with the squishy little person we made together. There are not even words to explain how much I love my children. Then I realized that the price of loving someone so big and hard is that you are completely vulnerable.
Every coo had me mesmerized. Every finger clasp had my heart going pitter-patter. Those big blue eyes looked straight through my soul. They make me want to be a better person. I want to give them the best of everything; childhood, life and of me. I happily bend over backwards to make them as happy as their existence makes my heart. They truly complete me. I can’t even remember the person I was before they were born. I do know that she was not half the person I am tonight.
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This is the relationship we’ve had since they were born. The random neck hugs, middle of the night cuddles, kisses and tiny voices whispering, “I love you mommy to the moon and back”, that’s the good stuff. That’s the stuff that makes life beautiful, to me. But oh, disappointing them hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt. Letting them down feels like the ultimate failure.
My girls never went through the, “No!” phase in their toddler years. I thought I dodged a bullet. But no, it’s just coming a little later. My girls are starting to exert their own independence now. I take it as it comes because I understand, one’s a tween and the other is just at the age where she’s confident enough to tell me now without the worry of alienating me. She knows my love is unconditional but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when she refuses my request.
The mother/daughter relationship is ever changing and evolving.
They don’t need me as much as they used to, unfortunately, I still need them. I need them to love unconditionally and always. But they still need me for some things that might seem insignificant to them but mean everything to me. Shhh, don’t tell them or they’ll stop. You know kids.
My favorite part of the day when they were babies was bath and bedtime. I remember the Big Guy and I would give them baths and then massage them with Johnson’s lavender bedtime lotion. It always seemed to relax them and research shows that touch is critical to baby’s growth, development, communication and learning. These days they give themselves their own baths but they still come to me afterwards and ask me to put the lotion on them, brush and braid their hair. Every time I smell that bedtime lotion, I can see the babies they were and I can forgive them any transgression, even telling me, “No.”
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This is a sponsored campaign in collaboration with JOHNSON’S® and Latina Bloggers Connect. However, all opinions expressed are my own.
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2015/05/08
A Mother and her Child’s Heart are Inseparable
This is part of a sponsored campaign with DiMe Media and Coca-Cola but all opinions expressed about my mother are my own.
In a Latino home, Papi may be el Rey but Mami is the glue that keeps the kingdom together. The women in the family are the caretakers; the nurturers and we all stick together. My daughters love their grandma and their aunts, almost as much as they love me and vice versa. There is a special bond between children and the women who nurture them, whether it is their biological mother or the mother figure that helps raise them. The bond is the same.
The most important person to any child is his “Mama”. That relationship is inseparable. No matter how you look at it, the love shared between a mother and her child is amazing; an amplification of the miracle of motherhood. It is the embodiment of true and unconditional love.
Unfortunately, eventually children grow up and move away. That’s what we work so hard for, to make them strong, independent adults who want to go out and explore the world. Of course, it hurts a little bit being left behind so we live for those special occasions when we know our children will call, like Mother’s Day. But what if the only thing that stood between us and our children or us and our own mother’s for that matter was distance? Would we let that stop us? What if we had no choice?
What better day to let mom know how truly special and inspirational she is than on Mother’s Day? I am lucky, my mom only lives a couple hours away but some people’s mothers live across the country or even in another country. I know a little bit about that too, my father lives in Mexico 8 months of the year. It’s hard when someone you love is so far away and even harder when it’s so expensive to call another country on a landline.
This Mother’s Day, Coca-Cola is partnering with DiMe Media to spread the amor for our madres this Día de Las Madres. Coca-Cola is providing a way for every child to call his mother, no matter where she is in the world.
Remember those old Coca Cola commercials about having a Coke and a smile? Buying the world a coke and keeping it company? Coke cares about people and this year to make us happy; Coke is helping us keep our Moms happy on Mother’s day by calling her.
Coca Cola is making it possible for everyone to speak to their mama on Mother’s Day for free! FREE!! Coca Cola wants to make sure that you and your mother are #Inseparable
Here is how it works:
Once you watch the Mother’s Day video you will be prompted to input your DOB (Date of Birth), phone number and your mother’s phone number. A California number calls the user, they pick up and it begins calling their mom. The mom also will see a California number.
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Coca-Cola will help you connect with your Mami or that special ‘mom’ no matter where she is around the world this Mother’s Day.
The Surprise Call to your Mother or a special mom figure is applicable to residents of the U.S. and Puerto Rico.
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2015/05/07
Our Last First Communion
My 7-year-old just celebrated her First Holy Communion. She chose to wear her sister’s communion dress and sweater. She looked beautiful almost angelic. There was something special about seeing her in her sister’s dress. Dressing her was a little foreshadowing of what her wedding day might be like and, of course, that coupled with the momentous occasion had me feeling a little emotional.
You know when they were newborns and I baptized them, I bought them each separate baptismal gowns. It felt like it had to be done, in case they had little girls someday that they wanted to pass their dresses on. I wanted them to have that but when we went to the bridal store and my 7-year-old picked out the exact same dress that I had bought for her sister 2 years ago it made no sense to buy the same dress twice. They both loved the idea.
You see they are best friends. The older one thrives on mothering her little sister and the little one loves to feel connected to and emulate her sister in every way. Sometimes I worry that this relationship is too close, too co-dependent but then I realize that when we are gone, they will only have one another and I want them to be more than sisters, I want them to be friends and more than that, I want them to realize that the love that they share is unconditional and the bond unbreakable.
Every time the girls have a milestone, I become a little nostalgic and a lot verklempt. You see, I only have two children. So every milestone is a first and the last, the alpha and omega of my parenting, if you will. This month just about breaks me every year because it is milestone on top of milestone constantly, not unlike my labors with those two girls. Parenting has become a whirlwind and I just want to hit the pause button, study their tiny faces, commit those tiny voices to memory and hug them for longer periods of time before they break free to find the next adventure with their friends.
Gabi’s communion fell on May 2^nd, the day immediately after May 1^st (my one day of the year of feeling sorry for myself). I was supposed to spend Friday alone feeling all the feels but instead I was running all over town preparing for a party. It felt surreal but it also didn’t feel right to spend the day mourning the dead when I had such a big celebration for the living to plan. It felt unfair but I pushed it down and carried on.
I know I lingered a little longer holding her in my arms that Saturday, wanting to cherish every moment of this last first communion and being painfully aware that it was the last. She was full of giggles and smiles and I met each and every one with my own. I was so proud of her. We took all the photos to commemorate the day and we headed home to celebrate her first communion and the Big Guy’s 40^th birthday.
Yep, God’s great plan included me celebrating all weekend long. Maybe he was trying to get me out of my funk. My husband stayed home Friday too under the guise of helping me run errands for the party but really, I think part of him wanted to make sure that I didn’t sink too far down the rabbit hole of sadness. He handled me with such sensitivity and love, it was hard to feel sorry for myself when I am blessed with him I my life. I’m glad he did because my entire weekend was full of love, family and celebration like a rainbow after a storm. I needed that.
At the end of the night, I hung that communion dress up and put it away for the last time. It will not be worn again by one of my children but maybe someday it will be worn by one of my granddaughters and that makes my heart happier than I thought was possible. Hope is what all of those tiny white dresses represent for me now; the baptismal gowns that I christened my daughters in, the beautiful communion gown they shared and my wedding dress pressed, cleaned and tidy in their boxes just waiting to make more memories.
What did you feel on your child’s first communion or other big “growing up” milestone?
2015/05/07
Suavitel Smells Just like Home
Disclosure: This is a compensated post written as a part of my Suavitel ambassadorship agreement but my love for Suavitel and the nostalgia it brings are all genuine.
You know how certain sights, sounds and smells remind you of special times and places in our lives? We all have them. Suavitel is one of those smells for me. It reminds me of home, more specifically my mom.
My mom has used Suavitel fabric softener for as long as I can remember. The house that my mom lives in, where I grew up, still smells like Suavitel because the fragrance permeates the sheets, covers, towels and clothes. As soon as I walk in the door, I know I’m home because I’m greeted by the smell of Suavitel and a hug from my mom.
I know, I sound like a super weirdo but it’s sort of how when you open an old storage tub of your big kid’s newborn clothes and you just sniff in all of that sweet baby goodness. No? It’s just me? Of course, I even relate that new baby smell with Suavitel because its what I’ve always used.
Honestly, I tried other fabric softeners when I first went away to college because that’s what all the other kids were using but it was missing something. It smelled awesome but it just didn’t smell like home and I missed home. I really missed my family and I especially missed my mom so I started using Suavitel and never looked back. To this day, Suavitel is the only fabric softener that I use. I hope one day that my girls will crack open a bottle of Suavitel in their local Target and think of me fondly.
New Suavitel^® Fragrance Pearls^TMin lavender or field of flowers scents with micro-encapsulated technology provides 5X longer lasting fragrance vs. using detergent alone.
Toss a little or a lot into the washing machine at the beginning of the wash and let its long lasting scent system work its magic for clothes that smell fresh for weeks. It’s best if used with Suavitel fabric softener.
What smell reminds you of home and your mom?
My whole house smelling like Suavitel for weeks on end is like one long hug from my mom.

2015/05/06