The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Ogunquit, Maine is the Perfect Beach Getaway
Last week, I was in Ogunquit, Maine.As my Instagram feed would have shared, I was on vacation with my family. Never heard of Ogunquit, Maine? That’s okay, neither had I but now, I will never forget this quiet, quaint coastal town. It’s the perfect east coast beach getaway and what I happily refer to as Xanax for my soul. It’s the first time in years that I’ve gone on vacation and actually come home feeling relaxed.
The Big Guy was headed to Maine for business and, as we sometimes do during the summer months, we tagged along and made it a family affair. I’d always wanted to visit the Eastern Coast and play on its beaches so I looked for a hotel by the sea. At the suggestion of a friend, I found the Anchorage Resort by the Sea. Just the name itself conjures up images of waves crashing into the shore and families building sandcastles.
After a 15-hour road trip with children, sanity still in tact, we arrived at our destination and it did not disappoint. Upon first glance, it was everything I imagined it to be. Bluish-gray siding and white shutters just like in the pictures. The staff was friendly, well-versed in their small town and attentive. The rooms, while not huge, were clean and comfy. We stretched our legs, changed our clothes and immediately started exploring.
Our first introduction to the small town of Ogunquit was our walk down the Marginal way to Perkins Cove for dinner at Barnacle Billy’s. It was at dusk. The tide was low and families were still frolicking on the beach as we walked the mile or so down the path serenaded by waves crashing as day slowly metamorphosed into night. This was only the second time our girls have been to the ocean and the scene mesmerized them.
Once we made it to Perkins Cove, after several stops for photo ops along the way, we made it to Barnacle Billy’s a local institution. Barnacle Billy’s is located right in Perkins Cove near the footbridge; you can watch all the boats come in to dock as you enjoy your dinner. It was quite pretty. Many people opted for the hour plus wait for a seat on the patio but we were starving and sat inside.
Quick tip: If you opt for sitting inside, you will be seated immediately, you can enjoy the scenery completely and you avoid the smell of “fish”. We sampled the crab cakes (which were amazing), the lobster roll ( which for the coast was a bit pricey but absolutely delicious), the fish and chips ( which were also delicious and some of the cleanest tasting I’ve ever had) and of course, the chicken tenders ( kid tested and approved.) They also offer an assortment of local beers and are known for their Rum Punch, I would not endorse the punch however. It was very strong, so if your goal is to be drunk, go for it but overall, it didn’t taste very well.
The simplest way to describe Ogunquit, Maine?
If you were ever a fan of The Gilmore Girls, Ogunquit is the Stars Hollow of coastal Maine and it is absolutely endearing nothing like the bustling cities we normally visit.
Day 2: The girls and I wandered down the shop-lined Shore Drive to the Ogunquit Beach, which was a 5-minute stroll from our room. Now, the beach in Ogunquit was different than any beach I have ever been to before in that the tide came in further and further back the shoreline about 20 feet every 20 minutes, so what started out as a huge beach at 11 a.m. ended up being about a 20 foot deep shoreline by the time high tide rolled around at 3:30 p.m. It was our first time, so we learned this the hard way by moving all of our belonging 4 times. Life lesson learned: invest the $25 in one of those little chairs to sit on the beach ( much easier to move than wet, sand filled towels). We also learned the hard way that you should always double check the SPF on your sunscreen and reapply frequently while spending the day on the beach. Summer getaways, like the dock and dine hudson river, are a great way to reward and pamper yourself amidst all the challenges you’ve faced on a daily basis.
We had a lot of fun on Tuesday but learned a lot of hard lessons. For instance, if you build a sandcastle on a moving shore, you will have to build it several times and children and sunburn don’t mix well. I also learned what “Jimmies” were. Ever heard this term before? Apparently, in that part of the country, it means sprinkles on ice cream. Where I’m from, it means condoms so imagine my confusion when the girl at the counter asked me if I wanted “jimmies “on my ice cream cone?
That night, after what we thought was stupendous day at the beach, the family had dinner at another local establishment called Jonathans. The restaurant is in what used to be the owners childhood home. The décor is quaint, the setting is intimate and the service was excellent. The customer service was so phenomenal, in fact, that when I originally called to make the reservation (before succumbing to open table for reservations) no one answered the phone. Due to my impatience, after 3 rings I went online. While I was doing that, the manager called my phone to apologize for missing the call and left a message telling me that there were tables available. Who does that? I was impressed.
Once at Jonathans we ordered the lobster bisque (phenomenal), the Calamari Rhode Island style (which was supposed to be spicy but it was not, but it was very good) and I had the Seafood pasta with clams, lobster and shrimp (it was warm buttery goodness). The Big Guy had the Italian pasta which was also very good but the portion was very generous so, if you plan to have it, come hungry. I also tried the Bloody Orange Martini, which was absolutely delectable. I could have drunk those all night long. Also, we tried the chicken tenders and macaroni and cheese, again, kid tested and approved. Then, we all strolled back to the room with full bellies and happy hearts.
There were lots more we experienced in this amazing little beach town in Maine but I will break this into two posts, as it is getting pretty long.
Bottom line, if you ever find yourself anywhere near Ogunquit, Maine, the beautiful place by the sea, do yourself a favor and stay awhile.
2015/07/13
Beauty Tips Now to Avoid a Facelift Later
Every wonder how to look younger longer? I’ve been spending a lot of time traveling to sunnier climates this summer, which is awesome because the weather in the Midwest has been lukewarm on most days. I like all four seasons and this rainy, snowy, lukewarm with rain season stuff is not working for me so I travel to hot weather and sunshine every chance I get. However, being that I am not 17-years-old anymore and just as I know that gravity is my mortal enemy, I also know that the sun can take it’s toll on my skin. You better believe there is a price to be paid for that sun kissed look and it’s high. That’s when I learned that I needed to find a traveling esthetician to help me in my beauty hacks while travelling.
I have a friend who is a dermatologist and I once asked her over Sangria, friend to friend, “ What’s the best brand to use to fight wrinkles and the affects of aging?” I expected recommendations for Botox and microdermabrasion STAT but instead she came in close and whispered, “Olay.”
My reaction was,” WHAT? The stuff my mom uses?” Yep, the exact same. I was completely ready to save up and spend the big bucks because after all, I need to do all the preventative care I can because I decided a long time ago that I am too chicken for a facelift so I need to work now to keep it from falling in the first place.
I kept thinking maybe she was pulling my leg because could it really be that simple? I should have just listened to my mom from the beginning? No way, life could not be this easy. The fountain of youth could certainly not have been hiding all these years in plain sight.
Well as a wise woman, my mom, once told me, “It’s better to be safe than sorry!” So, I went to my local Walmart and bought a few beauty goodies. I figured if I was going to try it out, I might as well go where I could get the most bang for my buck.
I picked up a couple Olay® Ultra Moisture Beauty Bars, Olay Regenerist® Micro-Sculpting Cream™, Olay® Regenerist Luminous Tone Perfecting Cream and CoverGirl Perfect Point Plus Eyeliner pencil combo. I bought all the Olay products because I wanted to test her theory and I have to say, I think I’ve seen a difference over the past few weeks. Learn more about sculpting procedures explained on the website.
I mean, I don’t suddenly look 25 again but I think I look pretty spry and vibrant for a 42-year-old and without Botox, I’d say that’s a win. Not that I have anything against Botox, I just like having a face with expression. I’m a hand talker and if my face didn’t react, I’m pretty sure that I might frighten small children. So thank you to my friend for sharing her beauty secret and protecting the little people of my town.
What’s your favorite beauty tip or trick to look younger longer? Share it in the comments and one lucky reader will be randomly selected to win a $25 gift card to Wal-Mart to purchase your own Olay or Cover Girl favorites. Winner will be selected July 30, 2015.
Disclosure: I was provided Wal-Mart gift cards by P&G to purchase product but all opinions are my own.
2015/07/17
The Little Mermaid Message We All Missed
One of my favorite Disney Cartoons is The Little Mermaid. Even before I had children, I loved it. I thought it was all about the music but this past weekend, I took my daughters to see Disney’s The Little Mermaid the live production at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater, a Broadway musical adaptation of the beloved film, staged by award winning director and choreographer, Rachel Rockwell. I fell in love all over again with this charming tale but this time for completely different reasons.
Every summer we make a trip to the city and spend the day at Navy Pier. It always starts with a family series production at The Chicago Shakespeare Theater. If you’ve never been, you really must go. Each year, the productions seems to get better and better. Last year, the girls saw Seussical and the year before, Shrek the Musical but we all agreed, the 75-minute production of The Little Mermaid is our new favorite.
There is just something so charming about bringing your child (or your own) childhood favorite cartoon to life. It truly is magical and the Chicago Shakespeare Theater never disappoints. The theater is intimate and interactive, with characters flowing in and out of the aisles. The stage is so close that you not only feel like you can reach out and touch the story but you feel a part of it. If you want to teach your children to love the theater, the Chicago Shakespeare Theater is a great place to start. I took my children to their first production when they were 5 and 3-years-old.
This summer’s Chicago Shakespeare theater production surprised me because I saw the story through new eyes, maybe it’s because I am a parent of daughters now, myself. The musical follows Ariel, (Rachel Eskenazi-Gold) a young mermaid that longs for a life beyond the sea. In her adventure to independence, she defies her father, King Triton (Matthew Jones), makes a deal with the sea witch, Ursula (Rebecca Finnegan) and find her happiness with Prince Eric (Brandon Springman) all while accompanied by her loyal friends, Sebastian (joseph Anthony Byrd) and Flounder (Matthew Uzarraga).
This time, I not only saw the story of a young girl trying to assert her independence and the arc of falling in love for the first time, I saw the story of a parent letting go and I found myself crying in the audience. It was unexpected and beautiful. This time, it wasn’t just about first love it was about the ultimate love, that of a parent and a child. I don’t know how I never saw it before.
My daughters are only 8 and 10-years-old but the letting go has already begun. The asserting of independence started almost immediately and now, well, tweens seem a lot more independent then when I was their age.
The stage design was vibrant and beautiful and I felt like I was under the sea with Ariel and all of the others. The Chicago Shakespeare Theater really made The Little Mermaid come to life and it was beyond memorable.
If you have small children or as the lady sitting next to me, have grown children who grew up on The Little Mermaid, bring them. They will love it and you will all leave the Pier feeling absolutely nostalgic and wanting to hug one another, just a couple minutes longer. That is the magic of the marriage of Disney and the stage.
The 75-inute production of Disney’s The Little Mermaid is best enjoyed by ages 5 and up and runs from now until August 16 in CST’s Courtyard Theater. Tickets are $22-$24 with special discounts available for groups of 10 or more. All patrons receive a 40% parking discount at Navy Pier Garages. For more information or to purchase tickets, contact Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s box office at 312-595-5600 or visit the website at www.chicagoshakes.com
While you’re there make a day of it. Navy Pier is growing like crazy. We had lunch at Harry Caray’s and dessert via Garrett’s Popcorn (Chicago Mix, baby!) but there are so many options and you can’t beat the view of the city! Just walk outside and wander after a show and the possibilities are endless.
If The Little Mermaid is not your favorite Disney production, which one is?
Disclosure: I was provided tickets for review purposes of The Little Mermaid but all opinions are my own.
2015/07/27
Parents Guide to Surviving Back-to-School Induced Mood Whiplash
The first day back-to-school is today and yesterday my girls lost their minds. I never noticed this phenomenon before. Nerves are to be expected at back-to-school but full-on crazy was never part of the deal! Maybe it’s a tween thing or maybe I’m just noticing it but yesterday was the worst. Forget about my worries of avoiding the kindergarten hallway of death with mother’s strewn on the floor collapsed in puddles of snot and tears. Today, back-to-school can kiss my grits! Now, I know why all the parents in the 3^rd-5^th-grade hall just carry in paper goods like pack mules and never look back. No photos, no kisses or have a good day, just lots of knowing nods and exhaustion.
The tween has gone completely bipolar on me (and you know I don’t use this term lightly, takes one to know one and wow! She’s making my head spin) one second she’s smiling and hugging on me, cuddling in for dear life and the next, she is rolling her eyes so hard that I think she might have sprained something and crying, sobbing over boots that she begged for….that I bought. I thought that was a good thing. NO! I was dead freaking wrong because in tween brain that means I bought her stupid boots that she can’t even wear over her pants, with her skirts or until NOVEMBER! I’m such a horrible mom.
But she asked for them. Tough shit lady, you should have known better. Then she begins sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the Target. As I’m ready to check out and on the cell phone with my sister, like one of those assholes who doesn’t give a shit about other people’s hearing space, talking her off a ledge about the details of her upcoming wedding, the 10-year-old is throwing a full-on tantrum because I’m not buying all of the volleyball shorts and athletic t-shirts.
Why am I being so evil? Because I don’t think its pertinent to buy these things when 1) she hasn’t made the team yet 2) we are still trying to figure out how she is going to fit 5 ballet classes, 2 robotics team meetings, violin, cheerleading practice and games and MAYBE volleyball into the schedule. Did I mention that 5^th grade is a clusterf*ck? Be afraid, be very afraid. It’s the year of everything and ballet has decided that this is the year that my kid needs to decide to dedicate her life to it. She’s 10!!!!!! But more about that later.
The 8-year-old has been sneaking into my bed every night for the past 5 days under the guise of a “stomach ache” that mysteriously disappears the moment her head hits my pillow. It’s all nerves induced by back-to-school. I give her this because I get it but it’s school, not war! And in the past week, I have gotten next to zero accomplished because of making all the moments of summer count and all that jazz. It’s like every year the week before back-to-school, my girls try to climb back into the womb and at 4’8″ and 5’1″, they just don’t fit anymore but that doesn’t stop them from trying.
Between my children going completely insane, recovering from travel and impending travel, planning a bridal shower, a bachelorette party, being the maid of honor, while squeezing in a press trip, deadlines and oh yeah, did I mention trying to coordinate the most insane extracurricular schedule ever…I am feeling less crying about missing my babies today and more hell, yeah, finally some quiet time to work…in my house…alone…without the white noise of constant girl bickering.
Don’t get me wrong, I left drop off this year, just like every year before, missing my little girls. But this year, we all need some quiet alone time. The years are rushing by at warp speed and we just need some time to decompress from all the excitement and growing up. It’s stressful but at the same time, it’s exciting for all of us.
Is it wrong that I want to throw a one woman dance party followed by complete silence to celebrate back-to-school?
2015/08/12
I Am Feminist, Watch Me Free Bleeding
Cause she’s free, free bleeding!
Sorry, I just can’t get that damn Tom Petty song out of my head ever since I read that article about the woman running the London marathon while on her period with absolutely no feminine hygiene help. Tampons…we don’t need no stinking tampons (or maxi pads for that matter). We are woman, watch us bleed.
A few months ago, Kiran Gandhi (a Harvard MBA) chose to run the London marathon, “unencumbered by the ‘absurd’ presence of a chaffing ‘wad of cotton’ wedged between her legs.” And so began the third-wave feminist movement of “free-bleeding.”
First, it was the bush making a comeback, then ladies refusing to shave their legs on principal and now, dying pit hair and free bleeding. Look, I am a woman and I am loud and proud about women’s rights. Hell, I’m even a bit of a fanatic. I like causes and, if we’re being honest, women and minorities are two of my favorites because I am both.
I don’t think women should be banished to red tents and dirty sheds because they are on their periods. But damn, you couldn’t pay me money to run around London bleeding out because that is exactly what I would be doing. It would look like someone tried to kill me by stabbing me to death in my vagina. All of London would look like a traveling crime scene and quite frankly, I don’t want to be known as free bleeding Debi. Plus, it feels a bit unhygienic. I mean, my sheets are white!
I mean, no one’s going to invite me to their house anymore. Party invites and standing up in weddings, all gone forever. No one wants to take the chance I’m going to show up and damage their goods or cause a spectacle. I mean, I’m just finally living down all those sweater ass covered periods of my youth. I wore a sweater one week of every month from the ages of 12-18…just in case of an accident. Then I discovered tampons, left the flying winged diapers behind and moved on with my life.
What’s all this period-shaming shit about? I’m not embarrassed by my period. The patriarchy didn’t curse me with shark week, it’s biology. It’s for the babies! Who doesn’t love babies?
Honestly, tampons are a pain in the vagina. I get it! Have you ever got your lip caught between those two cardboard parts of the applicator? That shit hurts like a mother effer. Or have you ever completely forgotten that you had one in and put another one in and shoved the previous one into your brain? It hurts. Or the worse is when you do it quickly; go on about your business only to realize 15 minutes into a board meeting that you are sitting on the inner cardboard tube of the applicator. It’s like sitting on a broom handle….in your vagina while having a conversation. And please don’t even get me started on the diapers that are an excuse for maxi pads once you give birth. My God, I need a f*cking diaper between the pee and the hemorrhaging. Why didn’t people warn me?
So, free bleeding?
Look, I get it. It is 2015 and we want all the equal rights and I think women should be able to do everything men do, if they want to go topless, serve in the army on the front lines, open all the goddamn doors they want to…GO.FOR.IT! But me, I can do all that but I like it when my husband opens doors for me and pulls out my chair. I like chivalry and manners. I love respect for women. I don’t want to run around free bleeding and covered in body hair like a savage to prove a point. I’ll burn the shit out of my bras though, I hate those things.
As far as I’m concerned, I’ll share. Boys, you want the free bleeding? The monthly hemorrhage accompanied by tender breasts, cramps and PMS? You can have it. I will buy all of your drinks.
I’m all about live and let live but can I please live with my tampons and without the mortification of the entire world knowing when I’m menstruating. Can we just allow me that one private dignity? As for Kiran Gandhi, I say go girl. If this is how you want to celebrate your womanhood, you do it loud and proud.
How do you feel about the free bleeding phenomenon?
2015/08/13
Back-to-School means Time to Get Back to Me
Summer was insane around here, packed full of traveling and the making of all the fun childhood memories but now it’s time to get back to me. It was awesome for the girls and us too. I love having them home but for me it was a little bit of the summer of Mom Interrupted.
My house looked like a cyclone hit it at all times. Getting work done felt like a covert opp because I was doing it after they went to bed, before they woke up and sneaking away for quiet moments at my keyboard while they were occupied with the Big Guy outside; all the while my heart was longing to be outside with them enjoying it. The mommy guilt was strong with me this summer, even though I was putting most things aside to be in the moment. It just never felt like enough.
I’ve noticed the older they get, the faster the summers go and more and more often I feel myself being torn between being their mom, his wife and my own person. I want to be happy and to be happy; those three components need to coexist in harmony. I need to be there for them but I definitely need to be here for me too. When the balance gets out of whack, my entire universe starts spinning off its axis. The truth is that one thing fuels the other and makes it better.
But how do I be there for them and still get back to me?
Being a good wife means a happy marriage, which means a stable, happy home for my children but none of that is possible if I am not happy with myself. So I have these three balls in the air at all times; my career, my daughters and my husband. Usually it is easy, I mean these are my priorities so 3 priorities are perfect until anything unexpected or extra comes up (which has been happening all summer) and then all the balls start dropping and I am jumping around like a mad woman trying to catch them before they hit the floor and shatter because obviously in my mind my balls are fragile. But my balls are strong; they are made of rubber. Anyways, enough about comparing my family to balls. The point is they are more resilient than I give them credit for and so am I.
But school has started back and I am writing in quiet from the hours of 8-2:30 and our routine is hectic but it’s manageable because we work together as a family to function smoothly. Sure there are hiccups but with everyone being flexible and having our priorities, life is easier. The thing that really keeps all the balls in the air is recognizing when one of us needs a break from the juggling or needs some extra TLC.
Every so often when things at the office get a little too hectic or my husband has a big project due, we all recognize that he might need a little more time to play Call of Duty and kill some zombies to decompress so I ask him to do less around the house during that time. Sometimes the kids get overwhelmed with homework and extracurricular activities, especially when they have performances or big tests coming up and that’s when they get extra cuddles, more understanding and maybe a pass on chores. And sometimes, I really need a day of quiet, to sleep in or just someone else to juggle all the balls for awhile because my arms are exhausted and this is when my family steps in and takes over; back-to-school is one of those times of year.
The girls are excited and anxious about starting a new school year with new teachers and new friends but at the same time, I am juggling all the balls and about 20 more and after a summer with just throwing balls and letting them fall where they may, this is near impossible and very stressful. I am in desperate need of a girl’s weekend in Chicago, a week at the beach or just a spa day.
Who am I kidding, I would settle for a day of no obligations; sleeping through the night without any interruptions and waking up on my own, a hot, relaxing bath, take out, no kids bickering and a back massage by the Big Guy. That sounds just about like perfection to me.
What’s your idea of the perfect back to me day?

Disclosure: I am a Wayfair ambassador but all opinions about how I get back to me are my own.
2015/08/21
The Tale of the Leaky Eyed Ghost; Updates from the Couch
I’ve been experiencing some depression lately due to my broken leg. Really down, the kind where you look up and you see nothing but darkness. For all my issues, I’ve only felt this way 2 other times in my life… The hot mess years that I refer to as my teens and when I had my miscarriage.
Anyone who knows me, like you, knows that I’m a glass half-full kind of broad. Yep, I’m scrappy and a little rough around the edges but it’s a coping mechanism I’ve employed for most of my life. When life serves me a bowl full of rancid, rotten lemons… Chances are, I’m going to share it with you in a funny, anecdotal way that’s going to convince you that I’m going to be alright. I’ll probably even make you smile. I do it to help myself get through it.
I’m not the misery enjoys company sort. There’s enough bad, sad, no good terrible shit in the world. I don’t want to add to it. Plus, I’ve never thought of myself as a victim and I certainly don’t want others to. Nope, I’m a bootstrap girl. I pull myself up and I carry on, in fact, I’ll probably exceed your expectations because that’s just how I roll.
However, I’m human and sometimes when circumstances are beyond my control I can’t be that positive, happy person that I will myself to be. This usually happens when my body and my mind decide to both be broken at the same time. I can handle one or the other, but when it’s both… Sometimes it’s too much.
Thankfully, years of therapy, self awareness and a full capability of knowing when to accept the things I cannot change allows me to sometimes give myself over to it. There are somethings in life that simply demand to be felt, whether we prefer it or not. When this happens, all you can do is decide whether you want to be left destroyed in its wake or if you’re going to move on from the emotional, physical or spiritual hurricane that hits your life.
I’ve been in the midst of a very hard, leaky eyed ghost situation. When I say leaky eyed ghost, I mean that I’m feeling invisible and I’m finding myself crying a lot more than usual. It’s hard for me to get right side up from this injury because, quite frankly, I’m spending a lot of time these days in the vulnerable position of on my back alone with nothing but my thoughts, which have all been negative only ever so slightly peppered with breaks in the sadness.
I’ve been feeling lonely, helpless, useless and afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of how this is affecting my husband and the girls and afraid I won’t fully recover. I’ve been feeling afraid of everything. The worst part is that the entire world is carrying on while I’m just sitting here watching it all, being completely unseen.
It’s very unsettling to feel forgotten and even worse to realize that you could cease to exist and your world would simply carry on without you. The world will not stop to grieve for any of us for very long. It will go on just like it did the day before. That’s a hard, sobering truth to accept. There have been days when all I can do is cry, to feel alive. There are days that I’ve kicked and screamed just to make enough ruckus to remind the people I love that I need to be heard. I need them to stop and, just for a moment, make me the center of their world. I realize it sounds selfish and childish but it’s the only thing to assuage my fear of disappearing and the fear and vulnerability that comes with that.
Sometimes when you’re engulfed in the darkness, a change of scenery can change your entire perspective even if just for a few moments, hours, days… enough to get you to survive. That’s where I’m at as I type this.
My best friend, Niki, and her family are family that we chose. Her and I found each other freshman year of college 23 years ago. We’ve grown up together. We are the keeper of one another’s secrets and our friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and 100% unconditional love. I can tell her, literally, anything and there will never be judgement, second guessing or condemnation. The friendship is simple, unconditional love and complete freedom to be ourselves all of the time. She’s my chosen sister which means we will always love each other, even if one of us does something the other doesn’t particularly like. We love each other enough to respectfully disagree on occasion.
We had a trip planned to visit her and her family on our way back from our fall trip to Disney this past week. We cancelled Disney because I can’t walk but we decided we really needed this trip to soothe our souls. But the day before we left, the kids were arguing constantly, my leg was really hurting from physical therapy and it just seemed like a lot of work lugging a shower chair, wheelchair, a walker and trying to stay comfortable. We were all over extended. The girls were being so bad that the Big guy cancelled the trip but something at my core screamed for help. This trip was our lifeline and we all knew it.
This was my way out of the darkness of my depression.
So we loaded into the SUV at 4 am on Thursday and emotionally & physically exhausted we drove east, praying it would all work out but knowing this was our road to salvation, our reprieve from the darkness…it was just enough air to keep the darkness from suffocating and killing us all.
It’s Saturday night and we’ve done nothing extraordinary, other than simultaneously coexist in that comfortable silence that only comes from being around the people who love you for real; not in words and declarations but in actions. The people who know that your heart is heavy, your soul is beaten and your body is weary and they take you into their home and make it yours. The people who love you at your worst and only see the best. Words will never be enough to convey what this friendship means to us. But I’d like to try.
Niki, thank you for always getting me and always loving me no matter what and thank you for such an amazing family that love us just as much as we love you. You are my sister forever and always, nothing can ever change that. I hope someday I can take care of you, the way you’ve taken care of us this past week. You’ve saved us by changing our perspective simply by changing our view. Where I only saw darkness a few days ago, I now see all the beauty, love and blessings that my life is filled with.
Sorry Nik, I know how much you worry about ending up in one of my posts but I had to share with the world how amazing you are 😉 Love you , hermanita!
I never knew a person could experience depression from a broken bone but its real and it’s awful.
2015/10/28
Grades are Ruining Education
Do you worry about your child’s grades? Last week we attended annual Parent/Teacher conferences for our girls. They are always fairly uneventful. We go, the teachers tell us how good our girls are doing and we all go home and pat ourselves on the back. There are never any surprises.
We usually have a report card for the first quarter in hand before we ever meet with the teachers. It’s hard to argue with high honors. Mind you, we don’t necessarily want constant approval. In fact, I think parent/teacher conferences should be like managerial review meetings. Tell me 3 great things about child and then give her 2 goals of improvement to work towards. I want my child to feel challenged, not complacent because I know complacency and boredom is a recipe for trouble and failure in the long run.
This year my daughter’s 5th grade teacher threw us a curveball. She had our girl assess herself. Not surprising, my daughter marked herself “average” on all accounts. Average because we have expectations for her education that are based on more than just grades. Our expectations include love of learning, understanding concepts and being challenged. Grades are just a superficial quantification of learning. We know this.
I was raised to always strive for my best. I competed with myself. I still do because my toughest competition is myself and I want to be motivated by myself not out of envy or jealousy of someone else, it’s not healthy. This is what I have instilled in my girls. This is what my parents instilled in me.
Do grades really quantify an education?
When I was a child, I remember bringing home straight A’s and my dad asking why they were not all A+s. I remember feeling deflated. This turned me into a perfectionist and left me feeling unsatisfied in a lot of ways because I always felt like I let myself down and worse like I had let my parents down. I never wanted my girls to feel that way.
I never ask why a grade is not better. I am always proud of them and I ask them why they think a grade is what it is but mostly I just keep my eye on it and make sure that I put a little extra time in reviewing homework so I can find out and gently help them gain confidence and mastery in whatever the deficit or concept that is lacking is in. This has worked pretty well for us. I know that there is more that I can do but, for now, this is how the Big Guy and I address grades.
Imagine my surprise at the parent/teacher conference when the aforementioned 5^th grade teacher, chuckled at my daughter when she answered “average” and then corrected her by saying, “if the other students listened/paid attention even 1/3 as much as you do you do, I would be happy. You, my dear, are most certainly “Above average!” My daughter looked confused, as was I.
I know, you are thinking, just shut up and be happy but what you don’t realize are few things 1) I was getting my masters in early education when I had my first child 2) I worked in education for 10 years 3) that teacher just completely undermined the expectations we had set for our daughter 4) in an instant, the teacher has lowered my daughter’s expectations for herself by making her effort seem overdone.
I’ve never liked rating/grading scales in education because really, what do they measure? It’s a moving scale. This is why we put in place expectations of our children, other than grades themselves. I want my children to feel proud and accomplished for thinking, for learning for craving more knowledge. It’s not just about a grade. I don’t want my children to be afraid to feel challenged. I want them to be exhilarated by it.
And before you start thinking I’m one of those mom’s who thinks their children are “gifted”, I don’t. I do think they are smart and capable of more than the expectations the school is setting for them. Of course the school is only responsible for passing grades, it’s my job as their mother to advocate for them and teach them to expect more from themselves than just “average”.
My daughter said, “average” because she knows that the effort that she is giving is not her best. Granted maybe a well-behaved child, who listens, pays attention and engages 97% of the time is better than the average student for that teacher, but it is not better than my daughter’s average and my daughter knows that.
I found myself to be completely annoyed by this teacher. I think she could have told my daughter that she thinks she is doing great without going so far as to say, “compared to the other students” because I’ve not taught my daughters to give a flip about what others are doing. I don’t teach my daughters to gauge their success by someone else’s failures only by their own feeling of satisfaction.
As a mom, I believe my number one purpose is to love my daughters but it is also my responsibility to encourage them to go after their dreams, honor their commitments and think for themselves. I’m doing my best but it’s hard because parenting is not an exact science.
What do you think? Do our expectations for our children distort their expectations of themselves? Is it better to encourage our children to strive for their own personal best?
How important do you think grades are to your child’s education?

2015/11/03
Is the Starbucks Red Cup Debacle Just a Marketing Ploy?
I don’t drink Starbucks coffee that often because honestly, it usually tastes a little burnt and I prefer my Nespresso but the other day, on the way to physical therapy we stopped in for a chai latte and I noticed the cup was red which to me signaled my brain that it was the start of the holiday season.
A couple days later I saw a video that was being circulated around the Internet, Joshua Feuerstein, an Arizona-based evangelist who describes himself as a “social media personality,” was up in arms because the cup was too minimalist for his liking.He posted on his Facebook page that this year’s spartan red cup illustrated Starbucks’ dismissal of Christmas as a Christian holiday in favor of political correctness. He went on to crack jokes and decided to fight against the “war on Christmas” by giving his name as “Merry Christmas” when ordering. To really stick it to “the man” he wore his Jesus shirt and carried his concealed weapon into Starbucks. (I found that part the most offensive and scary myself).
In the video, Feuerstein says that Starbucks “wanted to take Christ and Christmas off of their brand new cups. That’s why they’re just plain red.” Feuerstein said that instead of boycotting the coffee chain, he wanted to start a “movement,” so he went into a Starbucks–with his gun, as Arizona has an open-carry law and Starbucks has not outright banned firearms–ordered a hot drink, and told the barista that his name was “Merry Christmas,” which was subsequently scribbled on his red cup.
“So guess what, Starbucks? I tricked you into putting Merry Christmas on your cup,” Feuerstein said in his video. He urged his Facebook followers to do the same. The video has been watched about 12 million times and nearly 500,000 people have shared it.
Anyways, the video and verbiage in it made me feel like maybe the entire thing was a marketing stunt on Starbucks’ behalf, honestly. Anyways, I carried on and then I began to see all sorts of social media posts about some people being outraged that “Christmas” had been removed from Starbucks and then the rest of the people were outraged that the Christians were outraged. It quickly escalated to religious persecution by way of making a mountain out of a molehill.
Me, I am a Christian of what some might say is the worst kind, a Catholic, and this is what I think. If you don’t like Starbucks’ cups or you feel that they are stepping on your right to religious freedom, don’t buy their coffee. Don’t give them your money if you are so offended. But what I don’t say is to get over it because if it bothers you and is important to you, then draw your line in the sand. Mine however is not over coffee cups. That, my friends, is not the deciding factor to my ever-lasting salvation. I get my religion at mass and at home, I don’t need it on my coffee cup for validation.
On the other hand, if you feel that you can tell the Christians to get over their butt hurt over the cups, I hope you are not one of those ridiculous people who enjoy the benefit of all the Christmas holiday rituals (and time off) but don’t actually believe in or celebrate the birth of Jesus (yes, I already know that is not his actual birthday. I have the History channel.) P.S. A holiday tree is not a real thing people. It’s a Christmas tree. You can’t have your anti-Christian beliefs and celebrate Christmas too. Well, you can but then that makes you kind of an asshole.It’s like pretending to be homeless for the free food.
Like it or not, Christmas is a religious observance holiday and if you don’t believe in the religion then you shouldn’t be celebrating the holiday. If you want to celebrate the winter solstice or whatever, fine but it’s not Christmas so lets not pretend that we are celebrating the same thing. Celebrating “Christmas” and not being a Christian is the same as having a quincinera and not being a 15-year-old Latina girl or having a Bat Mitzvah and not being Jewish. These are religious celebrations. Christmas (not Winter Solstice) is a religious celebration.
So while you’re making fun of the Christians being up in arms over their coffee cups, I’ll be over here at drop off sipping my Chai Latte minding my own business. And if anyone wants to wish me a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or Happy Kwanza I will happily accept it because even though I may not celebrate all of those holidays, I do accept well wishes and good tidings from all. I will smile and I will thank you because I don’t think you are trying to convert me. In my mind, you are saying, “Debi, live long and prosper!”
Are red cups worth getting upset over to me? No. It’s a cup, people. But if it really offends you, you have every right to not buy your coffee from Starbucks and I can respect that because I am an adult and as long as you’re not making the decisions for me, it’s not my business.
When did we start living in a world where people feel like they have to run every single thought, word and coffee cup design through a filter before they say it out loud? Stop that. I’d rather I know you, the real you, no matter who you are than only know some diluted, politically correct version of you. By over thinking every single word that comes out of our mouth, we are diminishing any hope of establishing true human connections.
Be happy, people. Just be yourself and let others be.
Do you find the Starbucks Red Cups offensive and why?
2015/11/09
Life Hack: How to get Your House Company Ready without Killing Yourself
Ever walk into a play date or a friend’s house and think to yourself, ” Damn, how does she keep this place so clean with kids?” Me, neither. Just kidding. It happens all the time. I immediately ask her for the name of her cleaning lady. If she denies having a cleaning lady one of two things happens 1) I am amazed by her domestic goddess abilities and ask her to teach me her ways or 2) I decide we can no longer be friends because she either neglects her children or is a liar, liar, clean, pressed pants on fire.
I thought that I had it all figured out, this home business. No, I don’t mean working from home or my blog, I mean keeping my house from looking like a cyclone hit it while working from home and parenting smallish children. It’s hard, people. I don’t know how they do it but my kids can really mess up a house. I feel like I’m constantly cleaning and I am going to be completely honest with you, I don’t like it. In fact, I pretty much despise domestic labor.
My girls are not toddlers. It’s not about Cheerio crumbs and Cheez-it dust anymore. I can’t blame it on tiny hands and squished up puffs. This is all the damage of two semi-sophisticated young ladies who simply cannot get the concept of food actually making it into their mouths and can’t (or won’t) be bothered by picking up toys and clothes which leaves my floor looking like the toy box and their closet exploded, add to the mix crumbs and dirty plates on tables and I am ready to burn the house down. I feel like I need to go through the house with a leaf blower just to clear a path sometimes. Did I mention I don’t like mess.at.all?
My husband says its because they live in excess and simply have no room to put it all away. He blames me. I say they are just the cutest little pigs around. I blame them. They blame the dog.
I do my best, in between deadlines, appointments, errands, cooking dinner and keeping little people alive, I clean the house but it never seems to be clean enough because as I clean one room, I swear, they are making it their single mission to destroy the rest of the house. It truly is maddening so I decided to hire a cleaningcompanydublin to get help with cleaning the entire house.
I want to hire a maid to come once a week but then I realized that I don’t have a schedule that permits me to scrub my house down once a week and how could I ever let a stranger see my house in such a state? It’s bad enough that my husband sees it. Who has time to do all that cleaning before the maid comes? And if I didn’t, she would surely double her prices and tell all of her other domestic engineer friends about how dirty my house was and the next thing you know, I’d be blackballed by all help…everywhere.
What’s worse than what I see…the mess, is the stuff that I can’t see. The things that I can’t even begin to consider like dust mites and such. The thought of it makes my skin crawl. I try to pretend that they don’t exist but I know that they do so I basically stay at a defcon 1 stress level about my house at all times. You can learn how to prevent mold from building up in your home here. In fact, I am wondering just how many dust mites can live on a single dust bunny (like the one under my sofa) at this very moment. Oops, I may have just vomited in my mouth a little bit.
Then, I received an unexpected gift in the mail. Not something that I would normally get excited about but hey, I like it when the FedEx guy brings me goodies so I tore into it and I have to say, it is quickly becoming one of my favorite pieces in my house.
Behold the Shark® Rotator® Powered Lift-Away® . Yes, it’s a vacuum cleaner. I used to be the girl who swore I’d break my husbands kneecaps if he ever gave me a vacuum, iron or weight loss machine as a gift. In fact, I swore it. These are not gifts in my mind, these are necessities and commentary on the state of how I handle things. So thanks, no thanks.
But Shark sent me this and so there was no husband to be offended by. I have to be honest, I have a Dyson and after emptying container on the Shark, I can tell you that my Dyson has been doing a piss poor job. Maybe it wasn’t all the kids’ fault. Maybe the Dyson was failing to do its job and the kids weren’t habitual offenders…at least not where the floor was concerned. They are fully accountable for the toys and clothes on the floor but maybe not the crumbs and enough hair to create an entirely new dog or child.
Here are some of the features:
• Rotator® power nozzle with motorized brush that deep cleans and reaches further under furniture than any other vacuum (as evidenced by said hair and dust).
• Powerful LED headlights on the nozzle and handle to improve visibility under furniture or in dark, hard-to-see spaces (this is amazing but be warned vacuuming in the dark is scary).
• Fingertip Controls for easy transitions between hard floors, carpet and area rugs (I love not having to bend over to switch the height).
• Designed with a HEPA filter and Shark’s Anti-Allergen Complete Seal Technology™ to capture and hold 99.99 percent of dust and allergens (this is a must in our house because 4 out of 4 people who live here, suffer from allergies and fear of dust bunnies.)
• Additional features include:
o Hard Floor Genie™ bare floor attachment picks up large debris and fine dust in one easy step (easy enough for a 7 and 9-year-old to use).
o Extra-long 30 foot power cord provides maximum range for cleaning large spaces.
o Specialized tools to offer versatility in cleaning include a premium pet power brush, upholstery tool, flexible crevice tool and canister caddy.
My Shark is awesome and that is saying something because up until now, I was a die hard Dyson fan but the dust don’t lie and now, maybe, I can get that maid I’ve always wanted and deserved without the shame of her judging my domestic abilities.
Disclosure: I was provided a Shark Rotator Powered Lift-Away for review purposes but all opinions and clean rooms are mine, all mine.
2014/12/02