The TRUTH About Motherhood

Author: Deborah Cruz

5-Years of Blogging, Thank You!
Happy 5-years of blogging anniversary to me!
My blog is officially going off to kindergarten in the fall. Honestly, every year my blog turns another year older and I completely forget to celebrate on the anniversary. I never forget my kids’ birthdays and let’s face it; this blog is like my third child. It’s been a labor of love for sure and I have definitely poured my blood, sweat, tears and truth into this hear little website.
It probably has a lot to do with May being hell month in our house. We are booked solid all month long. The four of us, the Big Guy, the girls and I, just muddle through the entire month in a blur and then on June 1st we all sit down, put our feet up and exhale a sigh of relief.
But not today, today I have flower beds to plant, pitches to send, conference calls to attend and a garage that has to be rearranged as we are finally emptying our storage unit from back in the days when the house was staged for selling. It’s been 3 years. Anyways, today, I am pausing to say thank you. Thank you for the past 5 years! Thank you for all of the love and support and perspective. You complete me. The Big Guy made me a wife, the girls made me a mother but you all made me a blogger. And all of you helped me to find my dream and go after it.
When I started this blog, I had no idea what to expect or what I was doing. Some of you may suspect that I still don’t and, truly, I am still learning something new every single day. That’s what I love about blogging. Like motherhood the space is constantly changing, the rules are different and there are fads a many but I have just stuck to my original plan; to do it all with honesty and try my best to not screw things up too badly.
Today, The TRUTH about Motherhood turns 5. I can barely remember the time that I didn’t write this blog. It’s gotten me through the toughest moments of motherhood and I’ve made lifelong friends through this site. You’ve been there to make me not feel alone in those quiet times of doubt, held my hand when I thought I couldn’t go on and even celebrated the little wins in my life and I hope I have done the same for you.
There are changes coming for The TRUTH, you’ve been warned. I mean you know how 5-year-olds are? They like to shake things up. This month we celebrate 5 years of blogging, 4 years of Throat Punching on Thursdays, 15 years of marriage, 9 years of motherhood and my youngest turns 7-years-old. I’d complain about being so damn busy but I can’t because I am so damned blessed.
Stay tuned for changes. Speaking of changes, this Friday I will start a new weekly feature called This Blogger’s Life. I will be interviewing some of your and my favorite bloggers and even some new and up and coming bloggers. Wouldn’t you love to be the fly on the wall on the inside of a blogger’s brain? Well, now you can. Our first interview will go live this Friday with Jill Smokler of Scary Mommy. Hope you’ll check it out.
Thanks for the past 5 years, it truly has been life changing. If you want to stay connected, I am also lots of fun on Facebook ( I won’t lie, I like to share a lot of cool things I find on the Internet and see what you think about it), Twitter ( I like to have silly conversations in 140 characters), Instagram ( I posts lots of photos of cute bulldogs, cute kids, nature and the occasional photo of myself with no nose ), Pinterest ( where I pin all the pretty and cool things) and Google+ ( where I am still trying to figure it all out. Want to follow me so that I can get some lessons from you?)
2014/05/07
Cirque du Soleil’s La Nouba a Must See for the Entire Family while in Orlando
When my family and I traveled to Orlando, Florida recently, we had the pleasure of attending Cirque du Soleil’s La Nouba at Disney World. We love taking our girls to the theater and letting them enjoy cultural events while they are still young enough to really enjoy the magic because of the infinite possibilities of their imaginations and let them develop a love for the arts naturally.We’ve been taking them to the ballet and the Chicago Shakespeare theater for years; next stop, Broadway. La Nouba tells the fascinating story of the boundless and festive journey of the imagination. The Big Guy and I first saw La Nouba on our honeymoon in 1999. Since then, the Cirque du Soleil and, more specifically, La Nouba have held a special place in our heart. So, imagine how excited we were to share it with our daughters?
In case you are unfamiliar with Cirque du Soleil, it is a version of the circus that is humane, uses no animals and captivates the audience, young and old alike, with acrobatic feats that defy the imagination and music that makes your feel like the whole thing is a wonderful, magical dream. Dazzling costumes, dramatic lighting, bizarre choreography and ethereal operatic music set the stage for clownish observations, a human puppet and a host of amazing acrobats that all bend and weave together to create one of the most exciting and engaging shows under the soleil.
A door opens and the two worlds collide. Enter the attic of make-believe, where the mundane meets the marvelous. Dreams and nightmares intertwine. La Nouba which calls on both individual and collective memory, is an unforgettable journey into a world at once threatening and exhilarating, frightening and familiar. La Nouba beckons to us, challenges us to uncover passions we thought we had lost long ago; to frolic in our childhood dreams and enter a place where the extraordinary transforms and overcomes the ordinary.

We took our daughters, ages 6 and 9 at the time, and they both were enthralled with the performers. My 6-year-old LOVED the Titan, especially when he performed on the trampolines and the little girls doing the Diabolos act. In fact, she made me buy her her very own set and plays with them almost daily. My 9-year-old was smitten with the Green Bird and the dancers. The Big Guy finds the power track/ trampoline act to be the big show stopper. Me, I must confess, I am mesmerized by the aerial ballet in silk. The show definitely has something for everyone and I could go on for days talking about La Nouba but as a picture is worth a 1000 words, a production like La Nouba leaves me speechless. La Nouba is something that has to be experienced to be believed and to fully enjoy it.
Next time you are at Disney World, and I know you will be if you have kids, if you are on the fence on whether or not to take your children to see La Nouba, I am here to tell you that it will be something they will never forget.
Have you been to a Cirque du Soleil production? What was your favorite act or character?
If you’ve seen La Nouba, what was your favorite part of the show?
Photo Cirque du Soleil
Disclosure: I was provided 2 tickets for review purposes, but all opinions and thoughts are my own. I’ve been in love with La Nouba since the first time I saw it on my honeymoon in 1999.
2014/05/07
Are Alpha Women the Reason So Many Marriages Are Failing?
Do you think as Alpha Women are taking back their “bossy” and leaning in so hard that maybe we are forcing men out?
Are Alpha Women responsible for causing so many failed marriages and entitled kids who are products of these divorces? FOX news thinks so. Wait a minute…FOX news doesn’t think, they just speak.
I recently watched this video segment on FOX news and was flabbergasted. I was sure that someone had posted an Onion piece posing as a FOX “news” piece but then again, what comes out of FOX news channel these days shouldn’t surprise me. They are the conservative news outlet and apparently, they don’t so much report the news as bend it to their will to support their conservative agenda. Or maybe it was an Onion piece? I kinda hope it is.
Apparently, as we women “lean in”, men are forced to lean out to avoid being completely annihilated. Now that a whopping 24% of women make more money than their husbands, the conservative dogma is about to implode upon itself. (Women typically make 23% less than men, so obviously if these women are making 24% more than their husbands, they are having to work just about 150% harder for that.)
In this particular piece, it was stated that social pressures in the U.S. for men to be breadwinners are what may cause the marital problems. Obviously, the answer is for women to stop being so damn Alpha and let their men do what God intended, take care of women. Only there is one f*cking problem, men don’t always take care of women and secondly, not all women want to be at the mercy of some man to make her dreams come true.
Look, our whole lives, women have been told that in order to succeed in life we need to get married and have children, keep a clean house, cook well and look good while doing it all. We are not supposed to think or have free will if it interferes with the grand scheme of things. If what we want to do interferes with what he wants to do, we are expected o acquiesce because you know… the vagina thing. Just accept our fates already. We have vaginas, they make us weak so we need big, hairy men to take care of us. Huh?
In fact, let’s back up, what constitutes ALPHA WOMEN?
Is FOX News trying to insinuate that strong women are the problem? Are we suppose to teach our girls to bend to the will of men and take less than they deserve just to make the men in their lives feel better? Because I’ve got to tell you, that will never happen in my house. We teach our girls to do their best, work their hardest and go for whatever they want. We teach them that anything is possible. I’m raising Alpha Girls.
The question was raised, “Do women LIKE being taken care of?” Well, I have a two-part answer for that. First of all, what does taken care of mean? Financial security? Shelter? Food? Or emotional support and love?
My first answer is yes! Of course, every person (man and woman) loves to be taken care of in a way that they have a partner that reciprocates unconditional love and support. Do we all like having someone in our life that will carry us through when we are down or give us a hand when we have fallen? Of course, we do. Doesn’t everyone? Do we like being financially stable and being provided a beautiful home and things? Of course, that is human nature. But do I expect my husband to provide my everything? No. He is my partner and I am his. We get through this life together. If being “taken care of” means my husband going to work every day while I stay home and work my tail off and that equals him getting to do whatever he wants while I get to be subservient, then no thank you. We take care of each other over here.
No one is leaning over crushing the other under his or her weight. Sure there are sometimes when he is the star and I let him shine and there are other times when I am leaning in so hard, he picks up all the slack. This is not him doing me a favor or me letting go of my dreams to support his. We do this for one another. No, marriage is not 100% equal all of the time. You are a fool if you think it is. But in the grand scheme of things, if you add up our years together and divide them by when ones been the star and the other has been the wind beneath the wings; it’s just about even.
I don’t make anywhere near as much as my husband does these days but when we were first out of college, I was the only one working while he interviewed for months. We lived together. There was no animosity. I worked while he looked for a job. Every night we sat down together for dinner, both of us had worked all day; one at a place of business the other at home. I appreciated everything he did for our home. I respected him for being a participant in our marriage and supporting me emotionally during that time in our life.
Once we had children, we made the decision that I would stay home. To be honest, I made the decision and he completely supported me. Since he had been home, he knew what had to be done to keep a home running. Once we had the children, he knew I was at home raising our babies. He knew all the other stuff I was doing as well and he supported me. We moved several times throughout our marriage for his dreams and now, he supports me in pursuing mine. When I go to conferences or on press trips, he is able to be flexible at his place of employment. He’ll work from home when I travel. When I have deadlines, he makes dinner. He knows how to give the girls a ballet bun. He takes them to ballet on nights when I need to host a Twitter party or have a Google chat about business.
In our home there are no master and servant roles, there are only 2 people who have loved and supported one another for the past 16 years. There are no man’s work or woman’s work, there are only things that need to get done and we do it…together. The idea that a man would divorce a committed, loving wife for making more money then him I ludicrous and only proves how stupid it is to let male pride and machismo get in the way of happiness.
In truth, the Big Guy says if I ever make enough money to be the sole breadwinner, he’d be more than happy to stay home with the girls and consult for a living. He gets pretty excited at the dream of an early retirement.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe that finances most certainly can contribute to the divorce rate but that usually has more to do with a lack of money. Our philosophy has always been that as long as we have one another’s love and support and the true desire to be together, there are very few problems that we couldn’t work through. Next week, we celebrate 15 years of marriage so apparently, what we do has been working for us.
Alpha women, Alpha Men, Alpha Babies and Alpha Dogs, we love them all.
2014/05/06
The Worst Day of My Life
Is there a right or wrong way to experience loss? Is there a time limit on grief? I don’t think so.
May 1st is my annual day of mourning. I don’t know if this is normal or not but it’s what is normal for me. My miscarriage changed me forever. It’s how I get through this. It’s the one day of the year that I am completely still and I allow myself to feel all the feelings because quite honestly, this week just knowing that the anniversary of such a terrible event in my life was approaching had me walking around feeling like an exposed nerve. I changed forever on that day and I‘ll never be the same. No matter how hard I try or pretend to be.
I have cried at song lyrics and at the sound of the giggles of my daughters, knowing that one is missing. There is a hole in my heart that will never be repaired; not for my entire life. When my littlest daughter cuddles into me at bedtime and asks me for baby brother or sister, I hold my breath, push down the lump and pray I can hold back the tears long enough for her to fall asleep. Most days it’s a tiny little ache that I hardly even notice anymore but other days, it’s a sharp shooting pain that steals my breath away and others that confine me to my bed and the space in my head where I am allowed to dwell in my heartbreak.
It’s just one day and it doesn’t seem enough but at the same time, how do you quantify loss?
When I had my miscarriage, I wanted to die. All I could do was cry.I wanted to sink into one of my deep, tear stained sleeps where I had sobbed myself into exhaustion and never wake up. I was given pain killers and sleeping pills to help. I can’t tell you how many times in that first month that I mixed them, hoping to “accidentally” not wake up. The only thing that kept my weary mind and body grounded in this world were my girls and the Big Guy. I’ve never told anyone that.
May 1st is the day that I had my D & E. Two years ago, I went in to my obstetrician’s office for a little spotting, just like I did in both pregnancies previous. Today was the day that my entire world crashed down around me. Then, it became real. My body failed me and my heart shattered into one million tiny scattered pieces. May 1^st is the day that I lost my baby. I was 10 weeks and 4 days pregnant. I will mourn that day for the rest of my life.
I feel like people don’t understand; not my family or my friends and certainly not the general population. I feel like people are thinking that I should get over it. After all, “It” was just a pregnancy. It wasn’t like I had a child who lived and then he died. The thing that I feel people fail to understand is that “IT” was not an “it” at all. It was my child; it was a Bella or a Gabi. In my heart and in my mind, I loved that baby just as much as I love the two I get the privilege of kissing good night every blessed night. I lost everything and I won’t ever get over that.
I don’t linger in my loss anymore these days. I live each day knowing that a piece of my heart is missing and it hurts when I think about it. I give myself this ONE day of the year. I don’t need permission or to explain it to anyone. I just need this one day to not buckle under the weight of my own heart, to not choke from the lump in my throat, to cry until there are no more tears left and to be mad as hell that where my baby should be, my arms are empty and will always be.
The pain of losing a pregnancy or a child is like no other pain. If you’ve never experienced it (and I pray that you don’t) just take that all-consuming, unimagined love that you felt for your baby the first time you held her and then multiply that by a million in the opposite direction. That is what I feel like on May 1st, like I am being hit by a Mack truck and the worst part is that I know its coming.
I know I’ll always take pause in remember the day that my world was shattered. Some years the anniversary will hurt less and some years it will hurt more. But every year, on May 1st, I am giving myself the day to feel all of my feelings , even if I feel absolutely nothing but flat exhaustion. Or maybe one of these days, I will be happy dressing my daughter for her wedding or witnessing the birth of my 1st grandchild and I won’t be overcome with grief or even tinged with sadness. No matter what I feel, it’s okay but I have to do this for myself.
Part of me shut off that day. I pushed it down, way down so I could function but it’s there bubbling beneath the surface. There are feelings that are so overwhelming that I’m afraid to let them in and that is what today is for, to sit still, alone and feel whatever feelings come up.
Can we ever truly recover from loss?
2014/05/01
Mission Summer: Making Childhood Memories
What fuels your kids? The things that they love fuel my girls. These days that seems to be everything outdoors; running, jumping, dancing, riding bikes, riding scooters and being with friends. They are really embracing being kids. I love it. Lately, I have felt like I was living in a Throwback Thursday in my John Hughes-esque neighborhood. Our girls, who I used to hover and swarm around to make sure they didn’t break a sweat let alone anything else have begun to explore their space. I am trying my best to be a little more free range and a little less hypochondriac, hoverer. I am trying to stop white-knuckling the parenting reins (just a little bit).

It’s been happening really organically. There was no push the baby birds out of the nest this spring. No, as the Big Guy and I have been doing yard work prepping for our spring projects we have allowed the girls to ride their scooters on our back paths (semi supervised. Translation, I am watching but not running after their scooters). They don’t go out of range of my eyesight but they enjoy the freedom and independence. They look out for one another. I can see the bonding happening. Sisters rule. Watching them riding side by side on their scooters, looking up through the trees, with the shadows playing on their faces gives me great pleasure (even though the thought of one of them falling and hurting themselves makes my stomach knot up).

And now, just like I did (way back in the late 70’s and early 80’s) they are making friends and having spontaneous play. Not “play dates” because that implies scheduling. I am not scheduling anything this summer. We are going old school because, honestly, I think old school is better for my girls. So for the past three weekends, we go outside on Saturday morning and the girls get on their scooters or bikes and ride down three houses to the back of our cul de sac (we don’t have alleys here, we have a nature walking path that runs through our neighborhood and winds around the golf course) where they find their two little friends, sisters who go to the same school and are the same age, and the four of them scooter back to my yard where they jump on trampolines, play hopscotch, play in their clubhouse (a repurposed shed with carpet and toys and seating) or they play kickball or some other activity that actually keeps them active and I LOVE IT!

I know it is bold parenting on my part. Letting my kids play outside with bugs and all the hazards that come with not being able to control every element of the environment. I mean, my GOD, what if a bird shits on them or someone falls and skins a knee? By the way, we’ve survived both this spring with laughter and Neosporin.

This summer there will be reading in homemade whimsical A-frame tents and outdoor sleepovers (oh yes, those will be with a hovering adult present), magical fairy gardens to be made and lightening bugs to be caught in jars (with holes of course, what are we animals?). Outdoor movies under the stars with neighborhood friends, bonfires with s’mores and days spent playing in the pool. Childhood memories will be made. So how will I fuel all of this fun? Lots of fresh fruit and veggies and lean protein (and the occasional hotdog and homemade ice cream ..again, what are we animals?) and hopefully, lots of cold fluids during hot summer days.

In fact, I partnered with Motts to experience their new line of bold new fruit flavors made specifically for kids ages 6-12. Honestly, my kids love them and this is coming from picky girls whose mom actually juices for them. Motts new fruit flavors Fruit Punch Rush (my personal absolute flavor), Wild Grape Surge (Bella’s favorite) and Strawberry BOOM (obviously Gabi’s favorite) are as bold and refreshing as the name suggests. The best thing about Mott’s new line is that they have 40% less sugar than fruit juices, no artificial sweeteners and are 100% of your child’s daily value vitamin C. They are 53% real juice while most other drinks are only 5-10% of real juice and absolutely NO high-fructose corn syrup.

My girls mostly drink water and milk but when they drink juice, I like it to be something that not only tastes good but that I can feel good giving to them to drink because even though I may not hover like I once did, I’m still looking out for their best interest. Let the memories begin.

Disclosure: This is sponsored post written by me in partnership with Motts, all opinions are my own.
2014/04/30
Do You Vaccinate?
Do you vaccinate your children? I do. Every time they are due for their vaccinations, I schedule an appointment with the pediatrician and we get our shots. According to the CDC, vaccines prevent more than 700,000 child deaths in the US.
While there are some childhood illnesses that are seldom found in the western world these days, because of vaccinations, there are others that are still very rampant in the world and they do not discriminate by race, color, religion or socioeconomic standing. These illnesses will attack where they can and either you are protected, or you are not.
I vaccinate my children because I want to protect them against childhood diseases that can wreak havoc on their immune systems and even be fatal. I realize that some children cannot be vaccinated due to health issues, and that’s why it is even more important that those who can do, to help protect these children as well.
What scares me is the fact that the entire concept of vaccines relies upon herd immunity, which is the idea that diseases won’t be communicable because most people are immune. If there are enough unvaccinated children roaming the world, the situation can allow for the spread of diseases that we thought were nearly eradicated, like measles, mumps and whooping cough.
The near and complete eradication of these childhood diseases due to vaccines keeps our children safe. Vaccines are a great thing. Now, cases of pertussis, measles and mumps are popping up all over the country. Don’t think it’s going to stop there. The less we vaccinate, the worse this is going to get. No matter the reason behind not vaccinating, being unvaccinated means being vulnerable and susceptible to these diseases.
My point is this: We live in a world where these diseases have become a thing of the past. We don’t plan for them, we don’t worry about them and we don’t know how to readily recognize them. If you are interested in discussing more ways to keep your children healthy and protected against dangerous childhood diseases, please join us for the #CDCvax Twitter Party
What: While it can be easy to think of vaccine-preventable diseases – such as measles or whooping cough – as issues of the past, most of these diseases still persist around the world. Just last year, in 2013, 189 people in the U.S. reported having measles, the largest reported outbreak in the U.S. since 1996.
This year marks the 20th anniversary of National Infant Immunization Week (NIIW), an annual observance to highlight the importance of protecting infants from vaccine-preventable diseases and to celebrate the achievements of immunization programs in promoting healthy communities throughout the United States.
The Motherhood is joining The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in sharing how immunizations early in life can help protect children from 14 serious diseases before they turn two years old. We’ll be providing the CDC’s recommended immunization schedules, along with interesting facts and helpful tips.
Join us to learn more and share tips of your own for managing your family’s vaccinations and overall health!
When: Wednesday, April 30 at 1pm ET
Where: We’ll be on Twitter – follow the #CDCvax hashtag to track the conversation. You can see the details and RSVP via this Twtvite: https://twtvite.com/cdcvax
Hashtag: #CDCvax
Hosts: @TheMotherhood, @TheMotherhood25, @CooperMunroe, @EmilyMcKhann
Your fellow co-hosts:
Amy, This Mama’s Life – @ThisMamas
Annie, Stowed Stuff – @anniestow
Deborah, The Truth About Motherhood – @TruthfulMommy
Donna, Blog by Donna – @DonnaChaffins
Jennifer, My Boys and Their Toys – @Lovesmytwoboys
Kathy, A Mom’s Impression – @amomsimpression
Kim, Two Kids and a Coupon – @2kidsandacoupon
Lori, A Day in Motherhood – @lomargie
Melissa, Sippy Cup Mom – @SippyCupMom
Sarah, Must Have Mom – @musthavemom

2014/04/29
The Boob Fairy : How to Explain Breasts to Young Children
Have you had the conversation about breasts with your daughters yet?
I spent so much time trying to figure out when the perfect time to explain menstruation, puberty and where babies come from with my daughters that I completely forgot to talk about breasts.
Yes, they know that girls develop breasts sometime between being their age (6 & 9) and my age ( grown*) but, as I found out a couple weeks ago, they have no idea how one gets from point A to point B. Hell, maybe they believe there is a boob fairy; second cousin twice removed of the tooth fairy (she’s a giver).
Anyways, as the mom of two little girls who will one day be young ladies I try to make it my mission to make life full of “teachable moments”. I’ve gotten pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself.
Flowers on the side of the road at a makeshift memorial, I explain how young drivers should always be on the defensive and not be texting or on the phone. I explain that driving is a full-contact sport that demands all of your attention or you could end up with a memorial on the side of the road or causing someone else’s memorial on the side of the road. Vomiting and dizzy from the stomach flu, I see the perfect opportunity to discuss the effects of alcohol and relay how this is exactly how it feels when you drink too much. By the way, my 6-year-old has committed herself to never drinking more than half a beer and then calling a cab.
Sometimes that backfires on me like the time she was frantic that to have a baby the doctor must cut you open and rip the baby out (my sister had a c-section after the baby was stuck) so to “help” I explained that babies come into the world via your vagina and there isn’t usually a surgery in which a doctor cuts your stomach open. I thought I was helping. She went ghost white, looked down at her vagina, sized up the situation and has sworn off children for her lifetime. Wait until she realizes that sex is what puts babies into bellies that come out of vaginas.
So, the other day, as I was driving our daughters to ballet, we passed a coed group of neighborhood kids playing basketball in a driveway. Immediately, the girls began to argue whether or not a slender, young girl was in fact a “boy” or a “girl”.
Then, I hear this from my backseat.
A discussion about breasts.
6-year-old: “That was a girl who just made that basket. Girls play basketball!”
9-year-old: “Yeah, well, it was a boy because his chest was FLAT like a pancake!”
I explain to them that girls can be flat chested. And some girls develop breasts later than others. In fact, I was completely flat chested until I was 15. I am talking undershirt city. Hell, they stopped making undershirts big enough for a girl that old. Back then, a camisole wasn’t even an option and tank tops were only for summer, not a fashion layering piece. My girls and anyone who has met me knows that I am no longer flat chested. Apparently, good things come to those who wait. For those interested, here’s How to get bigger breasts naturally by Sandra Hale.
Take that girl, who shall remain nameless, who got her size B boobs at 11 and liked to point out the fact that I didn’t need a bra yet. My size D’s say hellllloooooo.
9-year-old: “ Uhm, mom….YOU have MELONS!”
Giggle.Giggle. Rabble. Rubble.
6-year-old, very concerned, “Mommy, I don’t want melons. I want apples!”
Me: “ Well, kiddo, you get whatever God and genetics give ya! Sorry.”
6-year-old: “Mommy, what’s genetics?”
Me: “It’s the genes you get passed down from your parents.”
Immediately, I see terror in her eyes and then I hear this.
6-year-old, head bowed and whispering a prayer, “Dear God, please don’t give me melons. I want juicy apples! In the name of the father, the son & the Holy Spirit! Amen!”
I look in the rear view mirror and see her doing the sign of the cross.
Then I died….laughing (on the inside like any good mom.)
Here’s hoping the boob fairy is good to you my little sweet and you are blessed with the “juicy” apple breasts that you are hoping for but I have a sneaking suspicion you won’t since you come from a long line of melons.

2014/04/29
What does “Be MORE Latina” Mean?
What do you think of when you hear the word Latina?
The stereotypes are out of control. In fact, if you Google “Latina” every photo is of a hot, caramel colored girl in a tiny bikini, sometimes leaning over a lowrider or laying in bed. Oh and there are a couple of pregnant women surrounded by 12 kids. Go ahead. There is nothing you can say that will shock me. My husband likes to joke that he thought I’d be a little more Sophia Vergara and a little less Julie Bowen of Modern Family.

We have all heard the Latina stereotypes: voluptuous, passionate and hot-tempered Latinas. We fight to make up. We have lots of kids because of all the sex and Catholic refusal to believe in birth control. We all have thick accents and we live to serve our controlling husbands and walk our Chihuahua dogs. When we are not in the kitchen cooking from scratch in our high heels, we are in the bedroom working on another bebé. We are all nannies and mothers. You could believe this and it could be true in some cases, because even a broken clock is right twice a day but mostly, you would be dead wrong.
Latina is not a color.I have been assumed to be everything but Latina on several occasions: Caucasian is the immediate go to, if they notice that I don’t exactly fit the stereotype for Latina. I have dark brown hair, light brown eyes, fair-skin and not immediately identifiable features. My mom is Southern by way of Ireland, France, Italy, England and the Cherokee nation. Then the guessing begins. Italian? Greek? Jewish? It makes me feel as if those guessing think I’m anything other than what I actually am: Latina on my father’s side.
OK, I am just going to say it, I am a fair skinned Latina woman; possibly the whitest Latina you may well ever meet. I get it. It might be a little bit confusing for those who don’t realize that, like every other race, we come in every single color of the rainbow, with different combinations of hair and eye color and varying degrees of assimilation. We are not all the same. We don’t look the same. We don’t talk the same. We don’t come from the same place and we certainly, don’t all fit some concocted cartoonish stereotype. My daughters are beautiful with blonde hair and blue eyes, if you ask them what they are, they will tell you, “I am Latina!” Because, they are and it’s that simple.
Some are true. I think as a group many of us are loud, passionate people who place a great value on the family unit but not all of us. Many of us are determined, handworkers who demand respect and take pride in our work, no matter how menial the task. We want to succeed and we’ve always had to work for it; from the farms to gaining respect in a new country so we are not afraid to work our asses off for what we want.
For many of us, failure is not an option. When, in business, I am asked to be “more” Latina that bothers me. I am not insulted because I am proud of being Latina. But I am offended that you have the nerve to ask me to prove that I fit into YOUR idea of who I should be. How do I quantify myself to meet your expectations? Would you ask a homosexual to be “more gay” or an African-American to be “more black”? I don’t think so.
I totally get that if I market myself as a Latina blogger, people expect me to be Latina and I am. It took me a long time to take ownership of that because I had spent so much time in my life feeling like I had to prove it. But when you ask me to be “more Latina” that insinuates that you don’t want me to be Latina, you want me to fit some misguided idea that you have of what it is to be “Latina”.You want more “spice”. That bothers me.
I am first generation Mexican American. I speak Spanish. I grew up immersed in the Latino culture. I may not have been born in Mexico, but my father was. I will not apologize for not meeting your stereotype. I don’t speak with an accent and every thing I do is not overtly “Latin” in nature because you know what Latin people are? We are just PEOPLE, just like you.
Well, maybe not like you (the person asking Latinos to prove their Latino-ness) because I am pretty sure you are an asshole and you might even be a little bit of a racist, or just really ignorant to my culture. We are not all built like Sophia Vergara (though I wish we were). We are not all oversexed, tequila drinking, hot-tempered caramel colored taco eaters who dance Cumbia. Well, mostly I am, with the exception of the caramel colored skin but many are not.

What’s the stupidest thing anyone has ever asked you based on a stereotype Latina or otherwise?
2014/04/28
Swimsuit Shopping Makes me Cry, Shoes Make Me Happy
The following post is sponsored by Mamavation on behalf of Earth Footwear. #EarthFootwear
It is almost May, so you know what that means? Cute Sandal and cry inducing bathing suit season are in full swing, right now! Honestly, I have been crying in dressing rooms since about mid-February. So to balance out the sheer horror of bathing suit shopping, I reward myself every year with leisurely strolls through the shoe stores perusing sandals. I linger through the aisles, gingerly slipping a variety of sandals on and off ; one by one; loving each pair more than the last. Shoe shopping for me is the complete opposite of bathing suit shopping. It always has been. Swimsuit shopping makes me sob like I lost my best friend ( my abs) and shoes just make me happy.
Feeling down, no problem, head to your nearest shoe store and spend an hour or two trying on shoes. I’m not kidding a cute pair of shoes makes the world feel more beautiful. In my twenties, I even took a job managing a shoe store, just for the discount. Shhh, don’t tell me husband. At one point, I had 300 pairs of shoes. Who was I? Imelda Marcos? It was sort of like letting a crackhead be a drug dealer. I absorbed a great deal of my own product. In the end, I had to quit but my love for shoes remains; as does my hatred for bathing suits.
I am an equal opportunity shoe lover. I love everything from flip-flops to Louboutins. If I can put it on my foot and wear it, I can find an outfit and occasion to make it work. Well, with the exception of those new trendy Minotaur hoof heels. I’d prefer to pass on those. I was a vegetarian for 10 years and the idea of sticking an animal’s “actual” hoof on my foot for fashion, is just too distasteful to imagine. The point is shoes have never made me cry, unless you count that one pair of 5-inch-heels I wore all over downtown Chicago fro my birthday. Bad idea.
The point is shoes soothe my soul, like chocolate and good wine or a really good bag. So when I was asked to review a pair of Earth Footwear’s Camarra sandals, I have to admit, I was pretty excited to be trying new shoes. You see, Earth Footwear is known for being comfortable. Which, let’s face it, if you are going to be on spring break walking around Disney World all day is a definite plus.
The comfort is all in the contoured arch-support that works to keep you comfortable all day long. Have you ever tried walking long distances in those super flat Grecian style sandals? I have. They are gorgeous and I own a couple pair, but they are terrible for long walks. By the time you finish your walk, it feels like someone to a baseball bat to the bottoms of your feet but don’t hurt at all if you only wear them for shorts amounts of time. Keep the flat sandals for day trips to the mall.
The Camarras, however, are very comfortable and stylish. Contrasting textures and pops of shimmer combine with gracefully arching lines to create a strappy sandal that feels great all day. So often it feels like you have to sacrifice one for the other. I mean. Come one, you don’ see ant collaborations between Dr. Scholl’s and Louboutin, do you? I really like my Camarras because they are made of quality leather so they look nice and contemporary and the wedge is only an inch and a half, so you can wear it with shorts and jeans or with a cute dress at nighttime. I got the platinum because I feel it’s versatile with my wardrobe but the Camarra also comes in Slate, if you prefer a darker sandal. I love these sandals because they are contemporary sandals made for real women who live in the real world. When’s a pair of 5-inch heels ever done that for you? I need cute and comfortable and I don’t want to sacrifice one for the other. Do you? We shouldn’t have to, right?
The Spring and Summer 2014 Earth collection starts at just $85 and most of the collection is under $100 and each show features a cushioned footbed for all day comfort with a padded heal area to displace shock, a reinforced arch support to stabilize the foot, and multi-density latex cushioning layer for extra support. Which any mom who has ever spent any amount of time in line at Disney World waiting in line to see a princess can tell you that comfort is everything.
If you’d like to be automatically entered into a monthly shoe giveaway, you can sign up for the Earth eNewsletter here.
You can also connect with Earth Footwear on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest to see all their Earth Day Pins; filled with loads of ways to make your family more earth friendly.
What’s your favorite Earth Friendly tip?

2014/04/25
When Mom’s Stop Being Nice and Start Being Honest

8:15 a.m. As I sit here, contemplating all of my work deadlines with my eye twtiching, staring out the window, as the aroma of Guinea pig piss wafts into my office and strangles me because some little person convinced me that she would clean the cage and LIED, I look around my office. My own little private space which has somehow become a natural disaster site since shoving all the stuff that we couldn’t get put away before the last round of visitors came to stay. I notice my yet to be unpacked spring break luggage. Did I take the swimsuits out? Oh, shit, I hope I took them out or else I am going to have to burn the entire suitcase, clothes and all. Where do I start? I’ve got on my yoga pants, I should probably exercise. Nah, I should probably clean the Guinea pig cage. Do the laundry. Wash the dishes. Go to the grocery store. Call the doctor about this f*cking twitchy eye.
This is what happens when moms stop being nice and start being honest
Seriously, this is my biggest question of every single day. I know that I start by waking up at 6:30 a.m. , forcing myself out of my exhausted fog that every insomniac suffer in the morning, and after a quick pit stop to brush my teeth, because I learned the hard way that little people are brutal, I tiptoe into my daughters’ room to wake them up. That usually goes a little something like, “Bella, Gabi…wake up sweeties.” I whisper this in an almost nauseatingly Snow White like voice. With a grunt, they pull the blankets up above their heads in protest. I think of it as the elementary aged kids version of , “Go Fuck Yourself, Lady!”
Then I try my Good Morning song that I have sung to them since Bella was a baby. (Sung to the tune of Good Mornin’ from Singing in the Rain) Good Mornin, Good Mornin..it’s great to be alive. Good morning, good mornin to you! And you and you! Good morning, Bella & Gabi, it’s great to be your Mommy. Good mornin, good morning to you! Boopboopitydo!” and I kiss them and they audibly grunt or they smile. In desperation, at this point, I usually pull off the blankets and tell them it’s 7 a.m. and we need to eat breakfast. Sometimes they move, sometimes they don’t. Either way, I head downstairs. Usually followed by two grumbling, mumbling “pissed off at the day” tiny tyrants. It sounds a lot like the Hamburgler is trailing me contemplating pushing me down the stairs. I am a little afraid for my life. I am already exhausted.
Then we play the I don’t want THAT! Game. I propose 27 different breakfast combinations and they promptly reject every single one of them. After 15 minutes of this. I say, fuck it and everybody gets Cheerios. Ticktock only 15 minutes before the SUV leaves the driveway bound for school. Come on Debi, You can do this. Get your head in the game. You can survive anything for 15 more minutes. You went through 13 hours of unmedicated labor. You did those 17 days without carbs (once). You didn’t kill anyone on that 3-day juice cleanse last month. You got this. Hell, you survived Dream Girls. You got this, GIRL! Finally, the youngest(who pretty much hates everything and everyone in the morning….so not a morning person. Give that kid a cup of coffee!) tells me just how damn awful those Cheerios were as she throws her empty bowl into the sink. It’s now 7:25 a.m. Only 5 more minutes, 10 tops.
“Go upstairs and brush your teeth! NOW!” I yell for encouragement.
My 6-year-old has now gone into her specialized slowmo movements. It takes her three days to walk up the flight of stairs to her bathroom destination. I can feel my sanity breaking as a barrage of questions and indignant declarations assaults me.
Where are my underwear? I DON’T HAVE ANY SOCKS! I don’t want to wear my uniform. I want to wear shorts. I don’t care if it’s snowing. You hate me don’t you?MOMMMMMMMMYYYYYY! Why is the sky blue? Mommy where are my library books? Can you make me cold lunch? I need money for a field trip. Today is the last day. I hate you! Fine! You don’t care about me.
AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! (in my head) SHUT.THE.FUCK.UP.PLEASE!! GOD! NOW!
Did I mention that I had already set their clothes out on their beds for them while they were eating? They have just not even made it back into their room yet? It is now, 7:33 a.m. The SUV should have departed 3 minutes ago.
One kid is fully dressed but decides NOW is a great time to change her earrings. The youngest is still in her underwear, dancing in front of the full-length mirror in her socks. I say, “Put your clothes on. Now! We are going to be late.” She huffs and, once again, now in ultra slowmo puts on her pants and then her shirt. She brushes her teeth finally, dripping red watermelon toothpaste down her fresh white uniform shirt.
“Where’s my belt, MOMMY?”
Me: “The one hanging from your back belt loop?”
Indignantly, she turns and without missing a beat, “NO, not that one. This one is ugly.”
She has 10 belts; they are all exactly the same.
Meanwhile, her sister can’t find the back of her piercing and is crying hysterically because “obviously” I should have never let her take the damn earrings out because now the hole is closed up and it’s all my fault for giving birth to her. It’s 7:36. We are going to be late.
I flip into supersonic, greased lightening or is that greased chicken (which one is faster?) speed and I brush their waist length hair as fast as I can. As I put them into the only hairstyle we have time for at this point, the side-pony or topknot, my oldest puffs in exasperation because she wants it curled. CURLED? IS this kid crazy? Sorry, no curls for you!
The littlest one, still only wearing one fricking shoe, tells me to stop brushing so hard. She starts to ugly cry and now looks like a spotted leopard. Her sister comes in to soothe her and tiny tyrant says, “It’s all your fault, Bella! If you didn’t sleep on the left side of the bed, I could have been a morning person!”
ME: WHAT THE F*CK?
And then the big sister starts to ugly cry…AGAIN. It’s 7:43.
NO way in hell these kids are getting to school by 7:50 but we’ve got to try. We get down the stairs and they both decide that NOW is the time to go over every scratch of paper in their backpacks. I assure you that it is not. It’s 7:45.
We get into the car and as we pull out my youngest says, “Mom, I told Lily about your baby.”
Me: “What baby?” because honestly at 6-years-old her imagination has babies coming out of our ears.
Gabs: “The baby that died in your tummy.”
(Pardon the pun) DEAD Silence.
7:50 a.m. I drop the girls off at the school office. They both give me a big kiss and an, “I Love you MOMMY!” They walk into school, turning back one last time to blow me a kiss. My heart melts.
7:51 a.m., I pull away, I ugly cry and I pop a Xanax. This is Wednesday
If you’ve ever ugly cried after drop off, been brought to tears by a screaming kid who couldn’t find their library book or just not gotten enough sleep or had a twitchy eye and felt like you were doing it all wrong…please leave me a comment and share this post because I think we have all been here. Well, I hope so or my other eye might start twitching too.
2014/04/23