The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Firework
It’s Tuesday but it feels like a Monday around here today.After last week’s Raw beginning, I’ve made a conscious decision and concerted effort to turn this back around and get back to my Revolution inciting attitude. I was driving home from kindergarten drop off this morning and, just like every morning, this song came on right as I was about 3 minutes from my doorstep. It hit me like a lightening bolt, I’m adopting this song as my new Anthem. I think it should be the loud and proud anthem for every Mommy. Next time it comes on the radio, crank that sucker as loud as it will go and sing your heart out. Because “baby, you’re a firework!” Listen to the lyrics, your fire is still in there.It may be buried under diapers and laundry and everybody else’s needs but Mama, it’s in there. “Cause there’s a spark in you, You just gotta ignite the light, And let it shine!” You can be and do whatever you set your mind to. You make human beings, nothing is impossible for you. Come on, I’m tired of being a fizzled out punk.I want to be a big blaring firework in my own life. Time for exhausting potential and realizing dreams. Who’s with me? ” Boom, boom, boom, Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon, It’s always been inside of you, you, you, And now it’s time to let it through!”
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind
Wanting to start again
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards
One blow from caving in
Do you ever feel already buried deep
Six feet under scream
But no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there’s still a chance for you
Cause there’s a spark in you
You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July
Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on show ’em what your worth
Make ’em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y
Baby you’re a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make ’em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
You’re gonna leave ’em fallin’ down-own-own
You don’t have to feel like a waste of space
You’re original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow
Maybe you’re reason why all the doors are closed
So you can open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it’s time, you’ll know
You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July
Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on show ’em what your worth
Make ’em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y
Baby you’re a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make ’em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
You’re gonna leave ’em fallin’ down-own-own
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It’s always been inside of you, you, you
And now it’s time to let it through
Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on show ’em what your worth
Make ’em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y
Baby you’re a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make ’em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
You’re gonna leave ’em goin “Oh, oh, oh!”
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
2011/01/18
Throat Punch Thursday ~ A Miscarriage, a Due Date & the Misery in Between

The other day, my 5-year-old, Gabs walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans that she had outgrown. She was being silly. We laughed because they were practically up to her knees and wouldn’t button. My unsuspecting heart was happy and then she said, “It’s okay Mommy, we can just save these for the next baby you have.” And just like that my eyes were stinging and my vision was getting blurry and I wanted to fall to the floor and assume the fetal position as the knife in my heart worked itself out. (more…)
2012/11/15
Throat Punch Thursday~ Fat Bottomed Kids Edition
Childhood Obesity ~Stop Childhood Obesity! I think we all know how I feel about Childhood Obesity and the obesity epidemic in general. I’m against it (more…)
2012/01/06
I Spent 50 Years Shrinking To Fit a World That Was Never Made for Me—I’m Done
Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
A life story of lies, deception and trauma.
Reborn, reparented and healing in process.
I am more… I am as much as I want, need or choose to be. I am everything all at once and almost nothing at the exact same time.
I am stubborn and angry. My temper boils fast and runs hot.
But I love big. Completely. With my everything.
“People say I’m too much but I’ve never felt like I’m enough.”
There’s an insatiable hole inside of me—always wanting just a little bit more. Never feeling like I quite belonged anywhere.
Always trying harder but never fitting in. Nothing is ever good enough—and I think it goes back to never feeling seen or heard at home. I had to make a spectacle and roar just to get a seat at the table.
The Emptiness No One talks About When You’re Healing from Childhood Trauma
I still feel ‘empty’ sometimes. Like something’s missing and I can’t name it.
I try to fill the emptiness with noise and things and too much of everything—but it’s never the thing I need. It’s never enough because it’s never full acceptance. Just the pretty edges and shiny bits.
No one’s ever listening because they’re too busy talking over me. Explaining to me what I’m supposed to think, feel, and be. They set the standard based on stereotypes they’ve made up, and I’ve spent my entire life—masking, shrinking, and contorting—trying to fit into a world that was never designed for people like me.
A world built for people who never really knew me. Never cared to.
And somehow, somewhere along the way, I handed them the power to make me feel like not enough.
“I gave them the power. Well, I’m taking it all back.”
What Reparenting Yourself Actually Looks Like From the Inside
The work of reparenting yourself isn’t pretty or easy. There’s no pastel journal for this. No aesthetic morning routine.
It looks like trauma bombs going off when you least expect it or being triggered because your daughter paces and it sends you into a panic. Because when you were just a little girl, your dad would tower over you when he came home drunk and angry at the world.
Reparenting yourself looks like sitting inside your own discomfort long enough to ask—whose voice is that? And then realizing, it was never yours to begin with.
It looks like being as loud or quiet as you want to be. Not performing for a single person in the room.
It looks like spectacling in all of your own spectacular glory with zero apology or shame.
The journey of reparenting yourself is the decision—and it is a decision—that you are the only one who gets to decide if you are enough.
Only you can love yourself back to you.
I forgot that.
For so long, I was so busy taking care of everyone else’s needs that I nearly completely disappeared from my own life. I’ve let myself shrink to fit. I quieted myself for other people’s comfort. I went invisible to stay safe.
No more.
Stop Shrinking Yourself: You Were Never Too Much
I am not too much.
I never was.
I am just enough because there is only one me—and however I choose to show up is exactly right.
No, I don’t fit your expectations or mold.
Fuck your mold! I broke that bitch.
You are the one and only you who will ever exist on this earth. You are the expert in you. You are the main character in your own story and, don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Write it down. Put it on your mirror. Tattoo it on the insides of your eyelids if you have to.
Reclaiming Your Power When the World Has Tried to Take It
Be who you want to be. Not who others expect you to be.
Their expectations are cinder blocks around our necks and we’re drowning fast under the weight.
Let it go. Let them think whatever they want.
This is what reparenting yourself comes down to, at the very end of everything: the radical, terrifying, liberating act of deciding that their version of you is not the final word.
You are enough.
You are more than enough.
You always have been.
“You never needed their permission to take up space. You only ever needed yours.”
You Found This Page for a Reason
If you are somewhere in the middle of your own reparenting yourself journey—the messy, nonlinear , “why is this taking so long” part—you are in exactly the right place.
The TRUTH about Motherhood is where we talk about the things nobody else will say out loud. Subscribe now and never miss a post.

2026/03/30
Words Matter the Importance of Honesty in Marriage
Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
Recently, I’ve been approached to be interviewed for some pretty lucrative positions. I haven’t been interviewed to get a job in years since most of my work comes from WOM recommendations or personal connections through past work partners. To be honest, I wasn’t looking because I’m finishing up my master’s in digital marketing and planned to evolve my career when the program is completed. But when opportunity knocks, you have to at least listen, right?

As I said, these positions are lucrative and to ignore the opportunity that sought me out would be crazy, so, I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone( out of my joggers and sweatshirts that have been my work uniform for the past seventeen years)(nervous and unsure) and went for it, talk about imposter syndrome? I felt like a guy dating way out of his league.

There have been 3 interviews thus far 1) was a huge editorial opportunity at a digital news outlet paying great money 2) an editor position heading up their newly formed parenting channel 3) an opportunity to enter the digital marketing field as a strategist. To say I was stressed about having these out-of-the-blue interviews would be an understatement but I’ve never let fear stop me from jumping in head first before, why stop now?

I pulled on my big girl panties and so I lept. Now, the reason I’m able to do this is that I’ve always had my core group of family’s unconditional support and confidence. My husband has always been my biggest supporter. No dream too big. No goal too lofty. “Baby you can do it!” Before the Big Guy, my dad was my hype man. While I’m humble, I’m not afraid of trying. I don’t particularly like failure but I always remain optimistic and try my hardest. A lot of that has to do with my unwavering support system and their belief in me. They truly lift me up so you can imagine what it would feel like if I found out maybe that wasn’t always the case.

Thursday, I was prepping for what would be the most stressful interview yet, the opportunity in digital marketing. Stressful because I’ve only worked from the content creation and influencer side and this position is in the strategist side. Plus, this wasn’t a phone interview but a video conference with not 1 but 2 of the executives. Did I mention I have an issue controlling my facial expressions and so ramble when I’m nervous? Also, how do I dress to look professional but youthful, energetic and creative without looking like a try-hard imposter, matronly or age-inappropriate? When let’s face it, I am often age-inappropriate because even though I’m on the verge of middle age, my heart and soul are stuck around 23-years-old. There were 100 different ways this could all go sideways and so couldn’t stop running every one of those scenarios through my head. I spent all that morning on the precipice of vomiting but I pushed through and decided to get out of my own way.

About an hour and a half before the interview, I sent the Big Guy to pick up the girls from school so I could finish centering myself and get ready (suit up in my interview armor so to speak). I was so nervous that I was getting irritable and second guessing every choice so when my girls got home I asked for their opinions on one fashion options. In retrospect, this was a completely futile and terrible choice. They’ve never been on an interview in their lives but I was desperate for reassurance.

That’s when, in my frantic state, my youngest pulls me aside to drop a truth bomb.I pride myself on raising my girls to be upfront, honest and transparent and to never, ever say something behind someone’s back that you wouldn’t say to their face. I guess I should have more clearly explained timing and how sometimes silence is the best option if the truth will hurt someone you care about. But, some lessons are learned late which Im still debating if it’s actually better than never.

The truth bomb she hit me with 45 minutes before my interview, “dad says you’re really nervous about your interview. You’ve been out of the game too long and you probably won’t get the job.”

In my head…. He said what!?!?!!!!!!!! Not in anger but in shock, awe and heartbreak.

She may as well have shot me on the heart because that’s literally what it felt like.

So, 30 minutes before my interview that I was already feeling insecure about, I’m beginning to look like a leopard from the crying. I can’t figure out how to react. Am I angry? Am I sad? Is this grounds for divorce? Was all that faith in me bullshit? Is our entire marriage a lie? If he, the man who supposedly “loves” me doesn’t believe I can do it, will anybody? Should I cancel the interview! Oh my God, he thinks I’m old??? I fucking hate it here. I’m an imposter. I have no business talking to these people. What was I thinking agreeing to this?? Omg, it’s virtual. They’re going to see my red-spotted, puffy just cried face. Every insecurity I had 45 minutes ago had been amplified by infinity. Does this man even love me? Do I even know who this person is?

Frantically spinning out of control like a helicopter caught in a hurricane about to crash into the ground and kill us all.

Then, 20 minutes before my interview, still not sure what to wear and trying to put on my makeup to cover my leopard spots, thanks to my toxic optimism, stubbornness and refusal to let anyone define what I can or can’t do ( thanks dad for raising me to believe in myself even when others don’t, to take pleasure in proving people wrong and succeeding to spite other peoples underestimation of me) I decided to let it go ( for the duration of the interview). Priorities.

I had a great interview. I was honest about everything including that most of my strategy work has been for class projects but I’m eager to learn and apply everything I’ve learned in class to real-world situations. We had a good rapport and the interview lasted a little over an hour( longer than they’d planned for), I did my best and I’m ok with however it plays out. TBH, I’m thankful for these interview experiences and less afraid of entering back into a corporate position. I feel more confident about my skills and what I have to offer. But even so, is saying thoughtless, hurtful things ( in any context) grounds for divorce?

In the end, I wasn’t mad but truly hurt … wounded. I had a talk with my husband and explained how his comments undermined my faith in myself and my trust in him. He tried to explain that it was taken out of context and he didn’t mean it “that” way. He humbly apologized. I know he felt shitty about me knowing he said it but I told him I was more hurt that he even thought it and in the end, how can I ever believe him when he hypes me up? I felt foolish, embarrassed and betrayed. I don’t like any of those.

He was upset that our daughter told me this before my interview. I told him, I was upset he said it at all. If you won’t say it to my face, then you shouldn’t say it behind my back. I wasn’t mad because she told me, I was sad that he thought that without discussing it directly with me. In fact, always supported me and told me he believed in me. It stung and it’s the only serious argument we’ve had in 25 years but it was serious. Not going to lie, it’s a chip in the foundation and that scares me because it’s the little things that erode a relationship.

We talked it out immediately ( well, as soon as the interview was over) because grudges and pushed-down hurts have no place in a marriage. But we both learned some lessons that day and I’m still processing them. This may sound trivial to some but in our relationship, it’s a big giving deal. Words matter and we all need to think a little more before we say things that may be hurtful to the people we love most because when we stop caring about the wounds we give, do we even love at all?
What would you have done? How much do you think words matter in a marriage?
2022/04/04
Best Gifts to Get New Moms or Any Moms for Practically Free
This is not your traditional gift guide for moms. It’s not specific to cool moms, crunchy moms, tech moms, teen moms or even girl moms. Nope, this is the perfect gift guide for all moms of all ages with kids of all ages and any sex. These are proven gifts for moms that are approved by, you guessed it, moms. But before I tell you the Best gifts to get new moms or any moms, read below.
Let me tell you a little story, the other day, I was talking to my therapist (physical, not mental) who just became a dad for the third time. Nice guy. Cute kids, 3 under 3 and an amazing wife who just gave birth to all three children in three years. They’re both probably in their early 30’s. Our conversation inspired me to write this gift guide because, from my perspective of the hard-earned wisdom of the school of been there done that, I realized that men are clueless.
READ ALSO: Gift Guide for Women who love tech and pretty things
I’m not saying this in a mean or ugly way. I’m saying it in the way that men are from Mars and women are apparently, from Venus ( more like women are from earth and men have no clue). While we may be on similar paths in life, they are most definitely perpendicular and not parallel. We ay accidentally cross paths in our way of thinking occasionally but for the most part, we are miles away. We interest but it’s not the same life, not even the same world.
I’m not trying to bad mouth this guy or any man for that matter, I’m just saying that we don’t share the same experience. At all. A few years ago, I was shocked to find out that men are never afraid to walk alone, outside after dark like EVER. Never. They are not phased in the slightest. Meanwhile, I’ve never felt comfortable walking alone at night and sometimes not even in the daytime, depending on where I am and what I’m doing. Men are fearless because they are at the top of the food chain. They’re doing the accosting. No one is accosting them. Women, well, it’s the men’s world and we’re just living it, unfortunately. Forget about the fact that we’ve given birth to them ( they’ve forgotten) and just know that they view us as other if they see us at all.
READ ALSO: Standing up for my girls no matter the cost
My therapist and I were talking about how they’ve been having a hard time sleeping ( 3-week old baby) and he said, “she’s been a bit tired and grumpy” ( no shit, new baby exhaustion is real especially when you’re chasing after 2 other toddlers in a damn pandemic.) Anyway, I digress. My point is that she was a little curt because she was new mom tired and she needed help.
Somehow we got on the subject of people needing space (an hour or so to decompress from their family and work, how I walk for an hour every day alone). I gently suggested that on the weekends he let his wife nap and his life would be easier because a rested mom is a happier one. He thought I was suggesting for him to get some time to himself. He was telling me how important his soccer weekends were to him. I gently, reminded him, “Yeah, your wife needs that too. Moms always need time, even if it’s just to drink our coffee or run to Target. Just because we don’t complain doesn’t mean we’re not tired.”
He answered me, “No, she loves being a mom.” That’s when I realized that it was my civic duty to save this perfectly decent man from fucking up his marriage.
READ ALSO: How Scrambled Eggs Saved my Marriage
Dude we all love being a mom but we also love being ourselves, being treated as humans; seen as something other than the help. We are not the live-in nannies, who also cook and clean so that you can spend your weekends golfing, playing soccer or call of duty. Repeat after me; My wife loves her children but she needs breaks. I love her so I must give her the opportunity to rest and breathe. No one can run on full blast at all times without burning out.
In case you don’t believe me, that we are all exhausted, even those of us who love what we are doing and being a mom, I just received this text. She’s a mom and a doctor who has been working almost constantly lately treating CoVid patients in her overcapacity hospital.
“I worked overnight and slept for 2 hours so I could get up and entertain the kids. I’m exhausted. It would be so nice to have a minute where the kids aren’t telling me how bored they are or the husband wasn’t sulking about a couple of days without sex. I wish I could have half an hour to myself instead of trying to please everyone else.”
Best gifts to get new moms or any moms
A day of rest
Even God took a day off. Maybe it sounds too simple or maybe you just don’t want to do it because you’ve worked all week and you want your days off to be relaxing. Great, I get it but how is it fair that you get 2 days off a week and she gets no days off ever? Think about it. Split the days; 1 for each.
Quiet time alone
Take the kids somewhere; anywhere. Quiet time is in high demand and there is never enough of it. Just tell her to take an hour and put on her headphones, sit in the car or go for a walk and enjoy not being the person in charge of meeting everyone’s needs for just a little while.
A spa day
This is a real luxury because, after kids, money and time are both things moms never have enough of. Moms tend to always put themselves last and a spa day, is not only good for the body, but it’s also pretty amazing for the soul too. Let her be a woman of leisure for just a few hours. Plus, relaxing is a superego boost for moms and if she feels prettier, sexier, more relaxed…you will benefit from it.
A girl’s night
I didn’t get a girl’s night until my girls were already 5 and 3-years-old. I kept telling myself that I didn’t need it. Then, my husband basically forced me out one night and it was the best thing ever. Moms need that time to remember who they are as a woman, not just someone’s wife and mommy.
Bring home or cook dinner once a week
Pssst, hey you, we hate cooking after feeding picky eaters all day, coaxing them to sleep and chasing them around. It’s just one more thing on a super long list of things we have to do and we don’t like it. Please handle it occasionally. You will be our hero. Do the dishes and put the kids to sleep on your own…your imagination is the only thing holding you back, baby.
An hour to work out
Being a mom is so busy that we really lose sight of ourselves. One day, we realize we’ve become bottom of our own very long list of things to care about. Working out not only provides us with some time alone, but we also get to feel those endorphins and feel productive and beautiful. Yes, sweating makes us feel like we are part of the solution, especially when we’re feeling overwhelmed and particularly mommish.
A space of her own
It doesn’t need to be huge. It just needs to have a door and a lock. An office, craft room, or workout area. We just really need something that is ours.
Volunteer to do some of the chores
Bringing home dinner is one thing but if you put babies to sleep, walk dogs, fold laundry and unload the dishwasher, there might be some more babies or at the very least some A+ effort baby-making-like actions being initiated.
Consider her feelings
Ask yourself, what would my wife do? You want to go out with the guys for 1, 2 or 10 beers after work on Friday night. Ask yourself, does my wife need me to come home and give her a break? Is she going insane because the only people she’s been talking to all day are under 3 feet and don’t know any words? Does she need to hand off the littles to me and regroup? Yes, the answer is yes. No matter what you might think, no matter how amazing she is or how much she loves your children, the answer is yes because while she is a superwoman, she is only a human.
Ask her how her day has been and let her tell you
Talk to her. Not at her. Ask her questions. Listen to her answers. Let her vent. Give her a hug. Let her cry. Be tolerant. Be patient. Be kind. Most importantly, be understanding and know that she is probably really tired and very hungry.
Entertain the kids after dinner
She made dinner. She bathed the kids. Offer to put them to bed. Offer to read them stories. Take one thing off of her super piled high mom plate. Be proactive. It will make your relationship with your wife and your kids better. You are part of the team, not a spectator. These are truly the best gifts to get new moms and moms everywhere of all ages and it’s free, with the exception of a little effort.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah and wishing you lots of peace and love in your marriage and your parenthood. You can do it. You just need to want to. Let’s be honest, as a mom, I would prefer a gift of the middle of the night feeding duty, dishwashing, folding and putting away laundry, baby wrangling and time alone to breathe, eat, play my music at full blast over diamonds and bags any day of the year. That’s saying a lot because I love my diamonds and bags but time for me, consideration, and respect for what I do from the ones I love, is worth more than anything else.
As a mom, what do you consider the best gifts to get new moms? Best gifts to get moms? Do you think the best gifts for moms are free?

2020/12/13
My (Mostly) Hilarious Journey with Mounjaro and Type 2 Diabetes
Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
Okay, so picture this: me, the queen of sass and self-deprecating humor, staring down the barrel of a diagnosis. Not just any diagnosis, mind you, but type 2 diabetes. Thanks, perimenopause, for the lovely parting gift. As if it weren’t enough to rob me of my fertility, now, you want to slap me in the proverbial face and call me ugly too? That’s when I found Mounjaro.
Let’s face it, sugar dragons are pesky. One minute you’re happily cruising along reversing the heck out of your diabetes, then bam! Blood sugar spikes, energy dips, and your inner sass monster starts grumbling. That’s what happened to me, thanks to the lovely combo of perimenopause, stress and type 2 diabetes. My A1C was doing a bad imitation of a roller coaster, and my glucose numbers danced the flamenco with a sugarplum fairy. It was glucose level insanity.
Enter Mounjaro, the knight in shining (injectable) armor.
Now, I’m not one to shy away from a challenge, especially if it involves witty banter and slightly questionable life choices. But let’s be real, diabetes is no joke. My A1C just kept creeping up on me like some weird guy at the club who couldn’t take the hint.
Now, hold on just one minute, fitness unicorns, I’m one of you. Don’t come for me. I’m not advocating for quick fixes or magic weight-loss potions. You know I don’t. If I did, I’d still be rocking that thigh gap instead of my current status of chub rub expert level. I battled anorexia for a decade, and trust me, there’s no sugarcoating the fact that sustainable health requires hard work and self-love. But when it comes to managing my diabetes and reclaiming my energy, sometimes a little help from modern-day glucose reducing magic (okay, medication) is a good thing.
Mounjaro is steadily lowering my glucose numbers and reversing my type 2 diabetes.
Now, before you get all “Ozempic is the new black” on me, hear me out. I’m not advocating for quick fixes. In fact, I’m firmly against them, and rejected the idea of a glp-1 for over a year. But when it comes to managing my diabetes and getting my health back on track, I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Numbers don’t lie and sometimes, you have to try a different route to get to your destination.
So, I finally said yes and embarked on this Mounjaro adventure, armed with my trusty dose of skepticism, crossed arms and a notes app full of witty observations.
Here’s the lowdown, sugar dragons:
In just 4 weeks, I’ve bid farewell to 12 pounds of unwanted baggage, paving the way to a healthier, happier version of myself. Sayonara, extra weight! With a starting point of 235.5 pounds, I’ve already crossed the 5% milestone, now eyeing that glorious 10% mark hovering tantalizingly at 211.5 pounds. And you know what? I’m not just shedding pounds; I’m reclaiming control over my A1C levels, determined to smash through that pesky 7.6 and bring it back under 5. Talk about goals, right?
From the moment I first injected Mounjaro, I felt things changing. Energy levels soaring, glucose numbers steadying, inflammation dwindling – the perks just kept on coming! And let’s not forget the shrinking waistline, bidding farewell to inches like it’s nobody’s business. Who knew losing weight could be such a wild ride?
But it isn’t all sunshine and unicorns. Mounjaro isn’t without its side effects. A little too heavy on the snacks? Cue the stomach rebellion, complete with a symphony of gas, burps, and constipation. Talk about a party pooper or party not pooper, as it were in my unfortunate case! Lesson learned: steer clear of high-fat foods and keep the fiber flowing.
The Good, the Bad, and the Gassy:
The Good:
- Blood Sugar Tango? More Like a Waltz: My glucose levels have become a model citizen, rarely venturing above 150, and that post-meal spike? Gone like yesterday’s news. Hallelujah!
- Energy Unleashed (with a Cautionary Label): Say goodbye to the afternoon slump! Mounjaro has me bouncing like a Tigger on espresso, but beware, fellow bipolar warriors, this energy boost can flirt with the manic side. Tread carefully, my friends.
- Bye-Bye, Bulge: Let’s not sugarcoat it (pun intended), I’ve shed some pounds. Not a magic disappearing act, mind you, but a steady, healthy 12 lbs in 4 weeks. My clothes are thanking me, and so is my self-confidence. But it isn’t all the Mounjaro, I’m doing my part too; controlling portions, making healthier choices and moving at least 30 minutes 5 days a week.
- Inflammation? Who’s That?: My dodgy knee, a souvenir from the “Great Break of 2015,” feels less like a rusty hinge and more like a well-oiled machine. Stairs, who dis?
The Bad:
- Tummy Troubles: Turns out, high-fat foods and Mounjaro don’t mix well, at least in my experience. Bacon and I are currently on a temporary break (thanks, belching and constipation!). My body is clearly sending a message: “Lay off the grease, Deborah!”
- The Great Vomiting Debacle: Now, about that dosage bump to 5 – let’s just say, it was a night to remember. A little too indulgent on the snacking front led to a gut rebellion of epic proportions. Picture this: stomach distended, burping, indigestion and praying for divine intervention. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse – bam! Oh, the horror! Cue the projectile vomiting extravaganza. A cautionary tale, indeed. After upping my dosage and snacking a little too heavily, I experienced a night of projectile vomiting that would make Linda Blair blush. Lesson learned: stick to the lower dose and befriend fiber and water.
The Gassy: Well, let’s just say I’ve become intimately acquainted with the power of Simethicone. I’ve never been one to be gassy or burpy and I don’t want to be now so I’m doing whatever I need to keep that side effect at bay.
The Verdict:
Mounjaro is not perfect (not even close), but for me, it’s been a slow and steady game-changer. My diabetes is under control, my energy is up, and I’m feeling like my old, sassy self again. But remember, I’m not a doctor, and this is just my experience. Talk to your healthcare professional before embarking on any new medication, diabetes warrior.
Listen up, sugar dragons! Take control of your health. Get informed, talk to your doctor, and don’t be afraid to ask questions. Remember, small changes can make a big difference. And hey, if you’re on Mounjaro too, let’s commiserate over the gas and share some low-fat recipe tips!
Bonus Tip: Start small! Instead of reaching for that extra cookie, take a walk around the block. It’s all about progress, not perfection. Now, excuse me while I go hug my pancreas and thank it for cooperating (mostly).
If you have any questions about my journey on Mounjaro please feel free to ask me in the comments. Or if you want to share your experience with me, I’d love to hear all about it.
2024/02/29
I Let My 5-Year-Old Watch Moulin Rouge and Now We’re Seeing the Musical for Her 20th Birthday
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.
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!
2025/04/17
The Truth about Parenting Teenagers from a Teen Mom
Ok folks, this is not a drill. We are in full teen mom mode. We’re over here parenting teenage girls. Well, a champion eye roller tween with cramps and a newly minted 14-year-old so the end is nigh and all of that, I suppose. At least that is what the world would have you believe about parenting teenagers but it’s a lie.
Obviously, no teen parenting experience is the same just like no birth or the first day of kindergarten is the same. I feel like maybe I should knock on some wood before I type this post. You know how fate likes to make fools of us all. But, dare I say, I kind of love parenting my tween and teenage girls possibly even more than when they were toddlers.
I’m in that point of parenting where I have to be the adult. Yep, either I act like an adult or this train derails. Now, I’m not saying that means that I need to go hard and fast on the discipline. Doing that would only make that train jump the tracks. Believe me, I’m talking from experience. No, I’m playing the long game, as I have since they were toddlers, and I’m following my gut. That’s the real trick to winning the parenting teens game. No matter how hard they push you away, if your gut tells you something, listen. Your mama and papa instincts are smarter than you are.
READ ALSO: Tips for Raising Teenage Girls Pt. 1
Sometimes, it’s hard looking at an overgrown child with their own thoughts and beliefs and not giving them what they want. Teens like their space. They value friendships above all else. I know this from being a teen myself. Now, that I am a teen mom, I am trying to keep all of this in mind. I listen, even when I find it mundane or infuriatingly contradictory because we need to hear what our teenage girls and boys are saying to us. They really aren’t much different from their toddler selves in terms of what they need from us. They need love, compassion, guidance and understanding not a punishing dictator, even if we do know better. Like my mother always told me, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
Keep in mind that your teenage son or teen daughter is still that beautiful little human being that they laid on your chest and you brought home from the hospital. That tiny, helpless human being that you loved more than life itself is still right there inside of the angry kid, bickering with her sister and talking back to you. Remember when your teen was a baby and he cried out in frustration because he couldn’t communicate his needs to you and you had to use your mom superpowers and figure it out? It’s the exact same thing. They need you, the world is new and scary again, and they don’t know how to tell you or ask you for what they need.
READ ALSO: Tips for Raising Teenage Girls Pt. 2
The thing is society has played a cruel joke on all of us. They’ve falsely made us all believe that once our kids are a certain age/size that they are capable of doing almost everything. We expect them to behave accordingly. This, in turn, makes our children believe that when they are a certain age/size they are expected to know everything. Secret: They don’t know and how can they? We’re not done raising them. They still need all of our unconditional love, understanding, patience, guidance and compassion; probably now more than ever.
I liken it to when my girls were little. They were always off the charts, size wise, so people always expected them to be further ahead in their developmental skills. I distinctly remember one occasion when Bella was just over one (she was easily the size of a 3 or 4-year-old) and we were in the grocery store and Bella was talking baby talk to me and an older woman came up to us and very condemningly said, “Shouldn’t she be “using her words”?” I nearly swallowed my tongue but managed not to hit the woman and squeak out, “She is using her words. She’s one.” I knew from that moment on that I would spend my parenting tenure being my child’s advocate and to do that, I needed to communicate with my children openly and honestly to really know what they needed from me.
READ ALSO: Tips for Raising Teenage Girls Pt. 3
I’ll be honest, parenting a teenager is not that different from parenting a toddler. The key is paying attention (even when they make it difficult), giving them grace and space when they need it (not always when they want it) and as angry as they can make you, remember growing up is hard on them too. They are afraid and feeling like they’ve lost their place in the world. Everything they knew up to this point is changing, including their own bodies and minds. Give them wings to fly but be there to catch them when they start to crash and burn. Most importantly, keep talking to them, keep listening and look past the angst and anger façade…your baby is still in there.
Tips for Parenting Teenage Girls from a Teen Mom
Unconditional Love
Always, every day, no matter what… love them like you loved that baby they laid on your chest. They are still in there hiding behind the eye rolls, smart mouth and pimples. No matter how big they get, they still need positive affirmations and love. Give hugs and keep telling them you love them. Maybe just not in public as much as when they were in kindergarten. Still, something as small as gold charm bracelets to remind them of how much you love them can go a long way, and it’s often the little things that make for the best memories. Sure, you may not always get along and sometimes share different views, but be sure to remind them often of just how much you love and support them – it’ll mean the world to them on days when it’s especially hard to be a teen.
Communication
Talk to them. Not just when you think they did something stupid but all day every day. More importantly, listen. When they talk, they are trying to tell you something even if they don’t have the words. Read between the lines. Fight for them like you did before they were taller than you. Let them say whatever they need to say to you, try to keep your cool and see through their own insecurities and fear. Be there.
Patience
Count to ten before you scream at them. I know that you are tired of them looking at you like you are the dumbest person on earth. I know it breaks your heart when they look at you like you are a stranger on the street. Don’t allow them to be disrespectful or cruel but remember sometimes they are having a bad day. Maybe someone at school was being cruel or unkind, give them the benefit of the doubt. Try not to tell them you hate them ( even if in that moment maybe you do). Remember hate the sin not the sinner? Be patient, the child you couldn’t get enough of is inside that teenage girl smacking her lips and thinking she knows everything and soon enough, you’ll be needed as her soft place to land.
Understanding
This one is hard because teenagers can be frustrating and infuriating and sometimes you just don’t want to rise above it. Sometimes you want to get down in the dirt with them and make them cry to give them a taste of their own medicine. Don’t do that. That’s what bathrooms are for, go cry in private. Don’t fall apart. You need to be the adult.
When your teen girl tells you something that you don’t want to hear (she’s thinking about having sex or she drank at a party) you need to remember you were her not so long ago. Then ask yourself, what will yield a better outcome 1) screaming at her with full disappointment and having her never tell you anything again or 2) listening, recognizing that she is becoming a young adult and these are young adult issues and calmly offering advice and guidance? I think you know the right answer. It’s hard. No one wants to have these conversations with their “child” but this is how they learn to do the right thing and be kind humans, from our sacrifice of weighing in on these topics when we’d really prefer to just lock them in their rooms and keep them safe until they go to college.
Listening
Use your voice of reason, stop talking and listen to the words coming out of their faces. Will it always be what you want to hear? NO! Do you need to hear it? Hell YES! As parents, just because we don’t hear something doesn’t stop it from happening. It’s like not going to the doctor when you have cancer because you’re afraid of the diagnosis. Knowing the diagnosis is not what’s going to kill you, ignoring the symptoms and not getting treated is. Have the hard conversations and listen to everything they say because they are trying to tell you something you need to hear and maybe it could save their life.
Forgiveness
This is a big one. Wow! Teenagers can be cruel and have a biting tongue. They have a knack for going for the weak spots. It must be a defense mechanism against bullying that kicks in with the hormones at puberty. While most won’t dare use it against their peers, they will easily use it on the people who will always love them, their parents. Keep in mind, the teen years are only 7 years of their entire lifetime, don’t punish them or hold grudges against them for what they say or do as teens. Discipline as needed but also remember to dole out positive enforcement and random acts of kindness towards your teenage children, they need it more than anyone else. Let it go. Forgiveness is for both of you. Forgive yourself too for feeling like you’re failing. We all do in these years.
Guidance
Always be there to gently guide your teenagers in the right direction. Firstly, demonstrate good behavior by example. Just like toddlers, they tend to do what they see not what they are told. Next, you can’t force a strong-willed teen to do anything. You can but nobody wins. But you can gently nudge them in the right direction by limiting the choices available. They still need to feel like they have free will.
Make life more of a would you rather situation instead of a what would you do situation because the world is still too big for all of that responsibility. Also, be available to give feedback when asked. If they are talking to you, they might want you to give them your input. This allows them to make their own informed decisions rather than listening to just their peers. But this only works if you respect and value your child’s thoughts and opinions. We are teaching them to make good choices. You can’t just tell them. They have to learn to use logical thinking and decide for themselves.
Compassion
This is so important. Remember you were where they’re at, not so long ago. You didn’t always know everything. I still don’t. When your child messes up, listen to them and be there. Hold them. Help them get through it. Don’t chide and chastise them. Just love them and let them know that everyone makes mistakes and, unless someone’s dead, we’ll all get through it.
It sounds like a lot of rules but in the end, all you really need to do is follow your gut. Your mom intuition tells you when things aren’t right, even when your mind and heart don’t want to believe it. I’ll be here if you want to commiserate and compare notes. We’ll all survive.
2019/04/03
What to do When Racism Happens to Your Child at School
What do you do when your child comes home from school and tells you about all the blatant racism she experienced at school that day? Racism is nothing new but I’ve never had it directed so closely at my children. Wait, let me clarify, no one called my daughter a “Beaner”, “Wetback” or “Spic”; none of the common slurs you get when you are a little Mexican kid. No, my daughters, like myself, are very fair skinned and they actually look more Nordic than South American. They have blondish hair and blue eyes. Nothing about them screams, “I am Mexican hear me roar.” But they will tell you, in no uncertain terms, “Yo soy Mexicana, escuchame…..ROAR!!!!”
The thing is when you look Caucasian, people don’t worry about what they say around you. They think that you shouldn’t be offended because when they are insulting your culture and your race, they are not actually insulting “YOU” because to them, you are different (you get a pass) because you look the same as them. Let me tell you what, that’s even worse. Casual racism where you tell me that I shouldn’t be offended because you weren’t referring to “my kind of Mexican” is beyond insulting. People always expect Latinos to be “more Latino” or, in my case, more obviously Latino.
I’ve experienced this kind of attitude my entire life due to my white skin. My mom is Caucasian, so technically I am half European Caucasian (with a twist of Cherokee) but I am also half Mexican. And, as anyone of color will tell you because we know this firsthand, if you are brown or black in any amount, to most Caucasians, you are “other” because you’re not 100% Caucasian so I’ve always just embraced it. I refuse to deny who I am, where I come from or the fact that on my dad’s side, I am first generation Mexican-American. That makes my daughters with their alabaster skin, blue eyes and blonde hair, second generation Mexican-American. We are proud of this, as we should be but then, every once in a while, especially in today’s politically charged, infused with extra hatred and bigotry environment, we are slapped across the face with the feeling of others trying to make us feel small and less than. Yes, even today in 2016.
Not to bring Donald Trump into this but honestly, he has broken the dam of the shame of racism that most polite societies had been adhering to. He has come in like a hurricane and ripped all politically correct walls down and made it not only acceptable but in some cases even applaudable to be prejudiced. Racism, xenophobia, and bigotry are running rampant under the guise of national pride and patriotism. I’m here to tell you that it’s not acceptable and never will be. It’s still just as disgusting as it ever was and now that the Trump trickle-down effect has directly involved my children, we have a problem and I’m ready to fight.
Which brings me to a couple recent situations that happened to my daughters at school recently. I’m pretty tolerant. I know that children sometimes regurgitate things they’ve heard at home without knowing what it really means. I also am painfully aware that hatred is taught not born. My girls know this as well and they readily afford their fellow students the benefit of the doubt but when they hear a prejudiced joke or comment made they also readily volunteer the information that they are Mexican and that those particular comments are offensive to them. In my house, we always think to ourselves, what would we allow someone to say to Grandpa Manny? If it would hurt him, it hurts us.
Last Wednesday, my daughter came home from a field trip, that my husband attended with her, and told me that the other kids in our car were telling her and one another that they were “voting for Donald Trump” and “Hillary Clinton wants to kill babies.” They went on to say that they wanted Trump to win so he could build a wall and “keep the Mexicans out!” Before my husband had the chance to say a word, my 9-year-old informed the children, “You know that I’m a girl and I’m Mexican.” (My 9-year-old doesn’t understand why anyone would vote for a racist misogynist, especially other women.) To which the kids answered, “Well, I knew you were a girl but I didn’t know you were MEXICAN!” My daughter’s answer, “Well, now you do.”
I don’t know about you but I find it very disturbing that parents are at home telling their kids that Hillary Clinton wants to kill babies and I’m personally offended that these children want to keep Mexicans out like we are some kind of criminal, lower life forms. It also disturbs me that my children are surrounded by such blatant racist every day.
On Friday, my daughter jumped in the car at pick-up and told me another disturbing tale of fourth-grade racism.
A group of children was talking and said that they hope Trump wins so he can keep the Mexicans out because they (Meaning Mexicans) are part of ISIS and the part of the reason the Twin Towers were attacked. What? Has the world gone mad?
Take a moment to soak that last statement in. Does it disturb you to your core too? Because the sheer magnitude of the ignorance of that statement frightened me. If these children think Mexicans are terrorists couldn’t that prejudice them against the Latino children at the school? I know there is only a handful of but still. My point is this, the entire discussion was inappropriate and factually incorrect. Mexicans are not Islamic terrorists. All Muslims are not terrorists. And it was Al Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden who were responsible for the twin towers and 9/11, not the Mexicans; not a race or a culture but a group of terrorist extremist. Why are these parents teaching their children to hate people who don’t look, act, and talk exactly like they do?
Apparently, these children have confused Mexicans and Islamic terrorists. I know the skin tones can be a little confusing if you are not exposed to a diverse group of people but either way, these children are regurgitating racism and xenophobia; neither of which I feel are appropriate or should be tolerated in life and certainly not at the school.
I’m not normally one to email the school with every single infraction or indiscretion. I am an active parent volunteer at the school and I support their mission, that’s why I enrolled my daughters in the school, but this kind of behavior cannot stand. I had to say something. There has to be a zero-tolerance policy for this sort of behavior. These situations warrant a discussion with the children and they need to know in no uncertain terms that prejudice and hatred are not okay on any level. We need to teach the children tolerance and acceptance of differences, not persecution and prejudice.
This election has given people a false belief that it is their right to be judgmental and a false sense of justification in racial profiling and it’s become uncomfortable on a very personal and basic level. I don’t want my daughters thinking there is something fundamentally wrong with being Latino nor do I want them to feel ashamed or like they are being judged or put in danger simply for being born with Latino blood in their body.
I realize that my daughters look Caucasian and may not experience blatant racism as frequently as some other children who have more obvious Latino features but it is sometimes just as uncomfortable being the whitest Mexican in the room, especially when racist comments are being thrown around and you know all the people that you love most in the world are being denigrated. I don’t want my children feeling ashamed of who they are because other children are being taught racism and hatred at home.
I don’t know about you but I have a pretty thick skin when it comes to myself but if you insult or injure my children, you will have me to contend with and I won’t let it go because it is my job to protect my children. If that means I have to hurt someone’s feeling by pointing out that their bad behavior will not be tolerated, then so be it.
What would you have done if your child was experiencing racism at school?

2016/10/03