The TRUTH About Motherhood

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A Few of My Favorite Things: A New Puppy for Christmas
Our new puppy for Christmas Came home with us on December 14th.
All my girls have been really wanting for Christmas is a puppy. I am trying to think of happy things and do things that make my children happy since last Friday. Sandy Hook Elementary is just a reminder of how precious our time is and how blessed with are to have our children with us, within hugging distance. So, I am sharing for the next 3 days, 3 things I did this year, to make my children happy. These three things made them so happy and shocked that I have to share. Today, I am sharing a gift that we got them last Friday.
We had no idea that the events that were happening in Newtown Connecticut, we only knew that our little girls have had a hard three years and they have been begging for a new puppy since we lost our sweet Saffaron in August. It’s been a really crap year for a lot of reasons and we thought they needed a special gift to make them smile and how it did. I highly suggest to anyone whose child has ever wanted a puppy to get them one. My girls are excited to see their puppy, Lola, every day when they get home form school. They feed her and get her fresh water, they play with her and she has quickly become one of the family.
Gabi, who wants so badly to be a big sister, is thrilled to be Lola’s big sister. Bella, who has been afraid of new dogs since her Grandfather’s dog nipped her when she was 2, has had no problems cuddling and loving on her own sweet puppy. Lola, our sweet Victorian Bulldog puppy, is reveling in the love and attention that she has found her self enveloped in and we are loving having her as the newest addition to our little family.
Welcome to our family Lola puppy
2012/12/19
How to Teach Your Teen the Difference Between Love, Like and Infatuation
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to explain sex to my girls but what about how to know the difference between love, like and infatuation? It’s actually a very important discussion to have with your kids but how many parents actually have it? I’ve decided that honesty is the best thing to do. I want open dialogues with them about everything.
How many times have you been in love? Like really in love. I thought I was “in love” about 3 times before I actually was. You see, the problem was that I didn’t know what real love was so I kept thinking I was in love but really it was a crush, infatuation, and love but not true, unconditional, forever love. But each time it felt like “love” until I pulled my head out of the love fog and could see it for what it really was.
There was lots of casual dating but each “love” was necessary for the learning curve. If I hadn’t experienced each time I thought I was “in love” I wouldn’t have had any barometer by which to measure when the real thing happened.
Don’t get me wrong, they all had their purpose and I wouldn’t trade any of the experience. Our experiences make us into who we are and if it weren’t for all of those false love alarms, I never would have known when I stumbled backwards into a really good guy and a healthy relationship.
What is the Difference between Love, Like and Infatuation?
Remember when you were in high school, maybe even college, and you fell in love and it was all consuming and insatiable? It was all you could think about and all you cared about. Anytime day or night, all you wanted was to be with that other person. You would have crawled inside of that person and lived if it were possible. Making love was truly an other worldly experience. You could not satisfy your craving for that person.
Remember those days when you were so in love that it hurt your stomach? When seeing that person was the most important part of your day? Remember thinking to yourself, or maybe even saying it out loud, I would die for you? And you meant it. If someone walked into the room and it came down to you and him, you would surely jump in front of that bullet because you loved him so hard that if he died life wouldn’t be worth living any ways, so why not sacrifice your life for his?
Were we stupid? Or was our baby brains just too consumed and overwhelmed by feeling love for someone other than our parents and complicated by all of those hormones that we just couldn’t process it? We knew our parents loved us and they would take a bullet for us so isn’t it logical that we take a bullet for the person who we love beyond all reason and comprehension? I used to think so.
I was one of “those” girls. I loved being in love. I loved loving someone and I loved the thought of someone loving me. Someone wanting me. Wanting to possess me. Someone not being able to live without me. It thrilled me. I believed that was the measure of true love. Someone willing to die for me. Anything less was bullshit. But as most teenagers, I was delusional. I saw undying devotion in the simplest of tasks. He pulled the chair out for me and cupped my face when he kissed me. He must love me. He surprised me with a single rose and my favorite candy at the drive-in, this must be “IT”. Wow, it’s easy to believe bullshit when you’ve never had the real thing, isn’t it?
Anyways, that passion was electric. It was the kind of “love” that had you feeling manic all the time. Coming from an actual person diagnosed with bipolar, that is saying something. I lived in that high to the exclusion of all else. Nothing else mattered and that was the measure of “real love” to me, for a very long time. I thought if it wasn’t all consuming and in crisis and threatened, it couldn’t be the real thing because the real thing was messy and it f*cked you both up beyond all recognition because that passion fire burns hot and high and hard, all.the.time. What I didn’t realize it that it burns out and leaves you both in a pile of ashes. If it was really intense, it could almost kill you both. But, adult me realizes that is crazy. I don’t want love that kills me. That’s poison.
I learned to live on that high. I craved it as much as I craved love. Then I fell in real love and I realized what I was doing up until then, was accepting what I had been taught to believe was love from the dysfunctional example of my parents and from movies. I believed that for it to be “love” it had to be “go hard or go home” at all times because love is work and if you love someone, you have to be willing to love them so hard that it might kill them and you have to be willing to die for them. I was a child and when you are a child, the world works in absolutes but as I grew up, I realized that real love doesn’t live in absolutes. It thrives in the grey area.
How important is it to distinguish the difference between love, like and infatuation?
For me, it wasn’t about dying for someone or killing for them. It was about being willing to live for them. Not in the “everything I do is for you” way like in all of those sappy love songs that we swoon over when we are kids. I mean in the “I love you so much that I want as many days on this earth as I can get with you” way. As a mother, it’s important to tell your precious daughters about dating guys so they can have a wonderful relationship.
In the way that makes the stupid things you’re doing fall away and life get clear. When I met my husband, I was a hot mess, in every sense of the word. I wasn’t even living my own life. I was living other people’s expectations and I was basing my happiness on someone else. Then I met the Big Guy. He put me first (maybe for the first time I had ever been first in my life) and my thinking shifted. I no longer had to be on the defensive. I didn’t have to be the aggressor. I just had to be me.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to throw up every morsel of food that went into my mouth. I wanted to live and my 10-year slow suicide by anorexia plan wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to live and I didn’t want him to know just how dysfunctional I really was. So, I started working towards getting better. I got help.
He saw the messed up ugly side of me almost immediately. I was an undiagnosed manic bipolar, anorexic with body dysmorphia and a self-medicating drinking problem. I was fun, then I was raging, mean and completely irrational. It was pretty hard to hide from anyone who was paying attention.
I had developed a bad habit of pushing anyone who wanted to get close to me away. I had long passed the wanting to crawl inside of someone phase. I was selfish and borderline and convinced that I was unlovable because up to that point, I had done everything right and none of it ever worked. I never passed quality control. I gave up and resigned myself to being detached. I basked in the position of being wanted, even if it was all surface.
Then the Big Guy came along and while his initial intention was to purely to hook up. We ended up talking all night after a couple ghosting friends left me stranded at a party at his house. Somewhere between our first disinterested meeting and that next morning, we connected on a cellular level without even trying. In that moment, we became each other’s person.
It wasn’t love at first sight. I don’t even think we were each other’s types. We would have never even have met one another other than a new friend I had met in my LSAT class who happened to grow up with this tall, gangly alt guy with black fingernails and a heart only rivaled by the size of his smile. It took a couple more weeks before we worked out the kinks. Falling head over heels doesn’t feel like what you expect it to. It sort of sneaks up on you and you suddenly realize that this person gives you hope and loves you unconditionally, through the ugly and the hard and the messy and the complicated and they never think of leaving because it’s not an option that even enters their mind or yours. You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning. , kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.
You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning, kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.
Maybe real true love isn’t what they write about in the story books or songs. Maybe it is sometimes. I want my girls to know that love can look like a million different things. What’s important is how it makes you feel when you’re with that person. It isn’t big and bold, though sometimes it is, it’s also quiet and steady and safe. It’s feeling happy just being still and not needing an escape plan or contingency plan. It’s not about being willing to die for someone, it’s being willing to work your ass off to live as long as humanly possible to share every day with your best friend.
The person you love as much as you love yourself. The person who gave you the children who you would take the bullet for because it’s the legacy of your love; the thing the 2 of you created. Real love is the kind that makes you want to risk everything to make the world better than you left it because it’s what he deserves. That’s love.
The real difference between love, like and infatuation is that when you find real love…that person can satisfy all of those things; love, like and lust.
How will you teach your kids to know the difference between love, like and infatuation?
2017/08/17
Taking Care of Me is Taking Care of My Family
Do you find it hard to make time for taking care of yourself? Lately, I’ve resolved to get my health back on track, which means working out, portion control and making healthier choices in the foods I eat. Sounds easy, right? It’s harder than you think, especially for a busy mom of two little girls on the go.
It’s been going pretty well. Like anything in life, it’s hard to break bad habits like mindless eating and not moving. I’ve had to make conscious decisions to get up and work out and to measure out my portions but it’s getting easier. I’ve done this by finding a workout that I love because it’s dancing and using containers and a scale to measure my foods before I portion them.
The one thing I am having trouble with is eating when I am hungry. I get so busy that I either forget to eat until I need to be someplace or I simply don’t have the time to find something nutritious so I grab whatever happens to be in front of me and honestly, it’s not usually anything that I should be putting in my mouth at such a quantity of with such fervor. So, I’ve decided to start keeping fresh fruits (washed, dried and ready to eat), fresh veggies (washed, cut up and in baggies) and high protein bars at my disposal.
The thing that is proving the hardest is satisfying my sweet tooth because even though my mind knows that’s a slippery slope, my cravings still crave it. It’s getting easier and I’m not shoveling all the carbs into my mouth without consideration like I was before but I still have those times of the month when I just need something sweet or people could get hurt. You know what I mean.
I’ve found two ways to satisfy these cravings that is a much healthier choice than reaching for a brownie or cookies. I’ve started making smoothies using fresh or frozen fruits and vanilla almond milk with protein powder. My favorite is 1 banana, ½ cup of mixed frozen berries, ½ cup of vanilla almond milk and about 3 oz. of vanilla protein powder. I throw it all in my individual smoothie blender and satisfy my sweet tooth guilt free.
Now, that’s taking care of yourself!
My other favorite treat is Fiber One’s new Cheesecake bars. My family has always been a fan of the Fiber One bars. The girls love the brownies and I love the lemon bars but I have a new favorite, the new Fiber One Cheesecake bar in Salted Caramel. My little one prefers the Fiber One Cheesecake bar in strawberry. Honestly, it’s hard to go wrong.
The best part is aside from grabbing them on the go for myself, I can give them to my girls with a piece of fresh fruit and a glass of milk for a fast, healthy breakfast. It’s perfect on those days when we are running late for school, as a light afternoon snack between cheer and ballet or gymnastics or even for dessert, when you just need a little something sweet.
It works for me. It’s made changing my eating habits and developing a healthier lifestyle a lot easier because I don’t feel deprived. I don’t feel like I’m being punished. I feel like I’m just learning to making better choices and in the long run, I think that will mean the difference between succeeding at getting healthy and failure. When it comes to my health, failure just isn’t an option anymore.
What’s your favorite healthy snack you eat when taking care of yourself?

Disclosure: This post was sponsored by Fiber One through their partnership with POPSUGAR Select. While I was compensated to write a post about Fiber One’s Cheesecake Bars, all opinions about taking care of yourself and Fiber One’s Cheesecake Bars are my own.
2016/03/08
Throat Punch Thursday ~ Dr.Oz of Arsenic and Apple Juice
Arsenic is harmless?
Dr.Oz of Arsenic and Apple Juice~ I won’t lie, I was a little disturbed when I heard the report last month about Mott’s apple juice and it’s high amounts of arsenic. Arsenic?? Yes, I know, like everybody else who’s ever taken a science class in elementary school, that apple seeds have arsenic in them. I know this.I try to be a good crunchy mom. I guess, when it came to giving my girls apple juice, organic all natural APPLE JUICE, I was so worried about pesticides and hormones that I completely forgot about the effing arsenic inside the damn apple. You know the apple that they use to make the apple juice. Arsenic, you sneaky little bastard.
When Dr. Oz televised his findings of arsenic in apple juice, I was not fear mongered into being cautious, I was reminded once again to put cut back apple juice on the list. One more thing for that neverending list. People are all pissed and bent out of shape, making Dr OZ the villain because they don’t want to hear what he’s saying. I know we’ve all been giving our kids copious amounts of apple juice in those damn sippy cups. Let’s be real, Organic milk is expensive and it spoils a hell of a lot faster in the hot sun in those sippy cups than any arsenic ridden apple juice. We didn’t know any better. We gave our kids apple juice because we thought it was healthier than the Kool-Aid and Tang we were given as kids. NO? Was that just my house?
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Deborah L.Rothenberg
Poor Dr.Oz nobody likes the Arsenic Police
Problem is that we don’t really hate Dr. oz for sharing his findings. He just happens to be the messenger bringing the bad news and well, we all know what happens to the messenger. The argument is that arsenic in small doses ( those allowed by the FDA, who by the way probably doesn’t allow their own children to drink the apple juice..I’m just sayin’) is not harmful. Dr.Oz argues that we don’t know the long term effects of this higher dose of arsenic. I say, at what level is giving poison to your child acceptable? I think most of you would agree that the correct answer is NONE! What next , will the out of control Dr.Besser show up and tell me red-faced that arsenic is harmless? Oh yeah? Dr.Besser how much rat poisoning is safe for human consumption? Ridiculous? Exactly, my point!
Throat punch goes to anyone who tries to tell me that ANY amount of arsenic is healthy for my girls to drink. It may be harmless but it may be poisonous. Either way, I don’t want to take the gamble on arsenic when the cost is my girls’ health. I know that it seems that nowadays everything has some sort of carcinogen, poison, pesticide, hormone, antibiotic, or poison in it or maybe we just never saw the arsenic on the label because we were too busy throwing stones at the fear mongering messenger. What are your thoughts on the arsenic in apple juice dilemma? Is this study ( or just the reminder of the topic) enough to scare you straight on the arsenic and apple juice situation? Will you be thinking twice before filling your baby’s sippy cup with ~~arsenic~~ apple juice next time? I know I will. Or do you agree with Dr.Besser that arsenic is harmless in small doses?
Just Say no to Arsenic in your baby’s apple juice
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2011/09/15
Disney Junior Live on Tour! Pirate & Princess Adventure
In a couple weeks, Disney Junior Live On Tour! Pirate & Princess Adventure is coming to our town and lucky me, I’ve been offered tickets for review to take my girls. They will be ecstatic. They love Sofia the First and Jake and the Neverland pirates. A little bird also told me that there might be a couple surprise guests; paging Doc McStuffins! I can’t wait to surprise my girls on Friday October 25 th, when I pick them up from school and announce that we will be seeing this production!
I’ll have to be sure to grab a couple tiaras and doubloons before we head out. Mickey and Minnie are taking their seats too at this never-before-seen live show featuring our favorite characters from Disney Junior’s hit series, Sofia the First and Jake and the Never Land Pirates. I hear Sofia and her family are preparing for a royal celebration that helps us all learn the true meaning of being a princess with a special appearance from Cinderella. Cinderella!!! My girls are going to go crazy!
Then it’s off to Never Land where Jake and his swashbuckling friends Izzy and Cubby, with a little help from Peter Pan, battle Captain Hook to unlock treasure hidden inside a mysterious volcano. It’s danger and dueling on the high seas as Jake discovers what it takes to be a true hero.
Filled with new music, amazing effects, thrilling action and endless surprises, I’m sure our whole family will enjoy Disney Junior Live On Tour! Pirate & Princess Adventure!
Special bonus! Starting ten minutes before every performance you can join the loveable Doc McStuffins for a special pre-show! You and your child can help Doc take care of one of her beloved toys with her own special brand of love and magic. Maybe it will be Lambie???? I hope so.
I will be there! Will you? If you want to go you can buy tickets here and bonus you can save $5 per ticket by using the promo code “BLOG” ! Hope to see you there.

Disclaimer: I am being provided tickets to DIsney Junior Live Tour! Pirate and Princess Adventure but all opinions are my own!
2013/10/09
Am I a Good Parent?
Am I a good parent? I ask myself that question almost constantly. I’ve been spending a lot of time lately mulling over what makes a good parent? More importantly, what constitutes bad parenting? I just can’t can’t seem to get away from it. No matter the issue, I want confirmation that I am doing it right..not wrong. I want to be the cool mom who gives all the great parenting tips because I have my collective parenting shit together but I AM NOT!
Good Parent?
My parenting skills are not without there purpose. I’ve learned a few things over the years. My girls have thus far survived pregnancy unscathed, toddlerhood without too many gaping holes and moved steadily into the part of full blown preschoolers. But here is where it’s getting tricky. This is where I am seeing the glimmer of therapy to come in their little eyes.
Ok, so maybe I am a little phobic about bugs. Jeez, can I help it that it freaks me the holy hell out if my freckles move and I need to instantly disrobe and hit the showers or have a complete undercover panic attack? I try not to share this seedy underbelly of life with my girls but I’m pretty sure that they can see the ‘EEK” in my eyes. I mean, it’s pretty much palpable! Maybe this is why Bella has decided to take a pass on the swingset this morning. I hope not.
Perhaps, it’s not the best technique of parenting when I am trying to ~~get the house cleaned~~, ~~emails answered, blog post written~~ save the world and I leave the girls in front of ~~Yo Gabba Gabba, Tarzan, Family Guy~~ ( I jest, I jest) PBS for an extended amount of time. It’s not everyday and it’s not always but it happens. Just like chicken nuggets and cereal for dinner have happened. Or like forgetting dress down day at school? Permission slips? Homework? Does this make me a bad parent?

I know it’s not exemplary. I wouldn’t write a book about parenting and suggest that people leave kids in front of the obesity tube. But for all the phobias, idiosyncrasies they have picked up even a bit of snarkilicious attitude they know one thing for certain…we love them. We unconditionally, every second of every day, no matter the weather or our mood or how many daunting tasks we have on our plate…We love them. We tell them! We hug them, kiss them.We show them. True, I have them sitting at the table next to me working on spelling as I am typing this. Not as hands on as I could be at this moment but we’ll do manis and pedis and have some Mommy/Daughter time before dinner. Is this bad parenting? Or is it realistic parenting?
What do you think makes a good parent? What qualifies as bad parenting? What is your finest parenting moment? Worst? I want to know…
Who makes the good parent rulebook?
2011/06/29
The Blogger Crisis
I’m Debi and I’m an old school blogger. I started blogging 6 years ago ( well, it will be on May 7th). I’ve seen blogging change a lot.
I’ve noticed a definite trend in blogging lately.I’m seeing blogger “midlife” (of the blog) crisis happening almost daily. Everything that is old is new again. Or at least this is what I’ve seen happening; quit blogging, start a new blog and then make a come back….when you never really left. I’m kind of missing the days of self contrived press releases about being lost in the dessert and rescued by your childhood boy scout leader.
I guess “quitting blogging” is a euphemism for “2 week hiatus” and “new blog” is what’s “on trend” these days. I’m not making light of the desire to quit blogging or feeling like you have stayed past your expiration date, the struggle is real, y’all. And of course it’s easier to start a shiny new blog than to try to restore the old one. That’s expensive and a lot of work.
Hell, I understand wanting a do over. Man, I started my blog way back before I knew bupkis about SEO. When I started blogging, I had one objective and that was to write. I wanted to share my stories with other moms so they knew they weren’t alone in this craziness that is motherhood (because, it is CRAZYTown all the way.)
Then I made friends and built a community because I loved what I was doing. I was making connections by being me. Sure my photos were not professional caliber and I didn’t know shit about what sizes to use and this was way before Instagram, Vine or Pinterest existed.
It was me blogging alone at night after the babies went to sleep and in between constant wakings. Co-sleeping was simultaneously awesome and killing me( especially the random head-butts it the middle of the night). I didn’t sleep a lot in those days but I craved the human interaction that blogging brought into my solitude life of new motherhood. You guys kept me company for two entire years while my husband lived out of state for work. You ladies (and gentlemen) saved my sanity and probably my life. YOU made it all tolerable and I survived.
Back then, I used Twitter like a phone and those 140 characters were my battle cry to whoever would listen. It was my mom 911. I made so many amazing connections; personal and business. There were no concerns of tweeting out links. Hell, I never even considered it. That was absolutely shitting where you ate. I would never text my IRL friends my links 3x plus a day and I would certainly never talk over their tweets or hijack their hashtags for my own benefit. In my defense, I’m not an asshole nor did I know what the heck a hashtag was.
Facebook was for sharing my posts, if I remembered but mostly it was for connecting to my readers. It wasn’t me virtually shouting ,”Look at me! Read what I wrote! Validate me!” It was, “Hey, so-and-so did the baby sleep through the night? How is the potty training going? Hey, you, if you need me, I’m here!” It was fun. It meant something. It was something I looked forward to. It was definitely not bugging strangers to play Farm games, JAMBERRY and poking people. HOW RUDE! I took social media and applied all the rules of real life to it and it was a beautiful thing. It worked.
People commented. We had conversations. I commented. I cared. You cared. We were invested.I craved to know their stories; their real stories. They felt safe enough to say something more than, “True.” I devoured the struggles and the triumphs. When I commented, I felt that it meant something to the person on the receiving end other than just traffic. It felt like community and friendship.
Then money came into it. Money is good and getting paid to do what you love is probably the best job that you can get. For a long time, I was naïve. I still didn’t notice traffic like I should. Hell, I didn’t even know how to check my traffic until Jessica told me to put Statcounter on my site. I had Google Analytics but I had no idea how to use it.
Then more money came and more jobs! Oh the writing jobs. I couldn’t turn any down. I just couldn’t believe someone would pay me to do this. I got to stay home with my girls, write about it and get paid. What??????
More jobs came. Then traffic goals became a thing. My free time was no longer free and soon, I felt like in order to be a good blogger I was becoming a shitty mom and that brought guilt. I decided I couldn’t live with myself in that state. My priority is to be the best mom I can be to my girls and wife to my husband but I want to be fulfilled personally too and it shouldn’t all have to be exclusive. I want to be happy.
By this point, I depend on my money. More money, more problems and all that shite. I found myself having less and less time for conversations and engagement. I started scheduling social and realizing that all of those amazing women that had gotten me through the lean years began to fall through the cracks. I still craved the conversations, the connections; the friendship. I missed every single one of you.
Then I became one of those assholes who checked her numbers constantly. I tweeted links a lot. I shared links on Facebook, Instagram and Google+. I pinned my posts and shared to Tumbler and even Linkedin on occasion. To be fair, I’ve always shared other people’s stuff too but I just didn’t get to read and comment like I wanted to. I shared it so that I could come back to it. My intentions were good.
I was writing everywhere and I began to feel like the Truthful Mommy train was over saturating the market. I’m sure you all got sick of me and I know that you knew that you could find me anywhere so why bother coming to read me on my actual website. It was too much.
I lost touch with many of you because I had so many deadlines and not enough hours in the day. It wasn’t fun anymore, it was a job. I was working really hard to build something but I’m not quite sure what it was that I was trying to build. I lost myself in the middle of my journey.
I’m not quitting my blog to reinvent myself. I’m addicted. I’ve been doing some face-lifting. Last fall, I changed the website. It’s not The TRUTH about Motherhood anymore…it is now simply just The TRUTH (because it’s not been just about motherhood for a very long time) I’ve learned that I need to organize so that I can actually spend quality time really engaging again. I’ve realized there is no shame in admitting that my blog needs some work done under the hood. I also know that some things are worth the price, this is one of them.
I’m going to pass on the Blogger Midlife crisis. I like my husband a lot, I need to give my girls more of my time this summer and I want to keep focusing on my health journey. I want to get back to writing because I love it. I want to have conversations with you. I want to surround myself with my tribe and I want us to grow together. I want my posts to be to the point where sometimes you’ll read 1355 word post and not mind because it meant something. I want us all to get lost in our stories. Who’s with me?
Disclosure: SEO was not considered once while writing this post. This post will never go viral because people don’t share like they used to. I don’t care because I enjoyed “talking” to you this morning. Let’s do it again soon.

2015/04/28
How to Raise Resilient Hardworking Children when Everyone Gets a Trophy
Calling all parents of snowflake babies do you ever find yourself confronted with how to raise resilient hardworking children in a world where everybody gets a trophy?
Yesterday, ballet youth company camp started and with that comes all of the excitement and pain that anything beautiful brings with it. I’ve taught the girls that beauty is pain since they were old enough to have their hair brushed. No point in bullshitting about it, right? It’s true anything that is beautiful in this world takes some pain to get there.
Ballet is no exception, especially when you’re dancing on pointe. Have you seen a ballerina’s feet? Those poor beautiful creatures, flit and leap all over that stage looking as graceful as gazelles while their feet are bleeding and being blistered and ripped to shreds. Beauty is pain, kids. Yet, they do it all with a smile on their face because, really, how creepy would a ballerina grimacing in pain be? We only see the end result, the beauty they create. We don’t see the ugly crying and pain behind the beauty.
Yesterday was the girls’ first day back to the ballet after a month off. My oldest tried to do footwork but we traveled 15 of the past 30 days and it’s pretty difficult to stay focused and get it done when you’re in a hotel room and Disney World or the beach is calling to you. I blame myself but I feel like kids need a summer. Anyways, it takes 3 days to start losing muscle memory and 2 weeks to build it back up, you do the math.
My oldest came home with 2 blood blisters on each pinky toe from pointe yesterday. This was to be expected but that doesn’t stop a 12-year-old from having an epic full-on drama meltdown. To be honest, I haven’t seen her this full-blown meltdown since she was about 3 but this was much worse.
She came out of camp with a stern look on her face and I knew something was wrong but she was quiet; that scary quiet that people get right before they go postal. I inquired, she snipped, as tired tweens who just danced for 8 hours are known to do and then we got to the car and the tears came. The tired frustration that comes with working hard and not feeling like you got to where you wanted to be frustration. The feeling of failure that no mom ever wants to see on her child’s face but is completely necessary to make her a functioning member of society.
Her first action was to tell me of all the horror and pain that she was experiencing from the blisters. I sat quietly until she was finished because I know sometimes we just have to vent and we don’t necessarily want to have anyone fix it for us. We just want them to listen so that we feel heard. I did that as she cried.
I’m still learning how to raise resilient hardworking children in this crazy world where they expect everything to be handed to them. So I thought for a moment.
Then I offered up multiple ways that I would help ease her blister pain when we got home; Advil, Neosporin, ice, Epsom salt, powder and a shoulder to cry on. I also provided some empathy to let her know that we’ve been there. Her father played soccer and I wore lots of new flats and pumps in middle and high school (breaking in shoes is no joke. We’ve had blisters a plenty.) This seemed to anger her because obviously, our blisters were not the same as her ballet blisters. She became a bit hulk like and raised her voice at me. I was losing my mom sympathy pretty quickly at this point.
I must have missed the memo where I was supposed to immediately tell her it was okay to quit. But, then again, apparently, she forgot that I am the mom who doesn’t quit. I am the person who believes if you commit to something, you have to honor the commitment; even if it’s not easy. I’ve built my life on the motto, where there is a will there is a way. I am a way finder, not a quitter and I am not raising quitters because that is not doing them any favors. Don’t get me wrong, I know there is a time to let things go but that is different than just quitting because life gets a little hard.
I understand she is a proud member of the snowflake generation (this is more my fault than hers) but it’s my job as her mother to teach her to live in the real world, not the Utopia that exists in her head where all things are handed to you because, as anyone who has ever held a job, paid a mortgage or had a child knows, you’ve got to work like your life depends on it to get ahead…because it does. There has to be a sense of urgency, with some pride and respect mixed in.
I’m not as mean as I might sound. I’ve never been the rub some dirt on it kind of mom. I’ve always been the Sana Sana, kiss all the booboos mom but maybe I’ve swung the pendulum too far in the other direction and she expects me to fix everything, without even trying to fix it herself. Then the Big Guy reminded me that this is her first time experiencing any sort of pain. I’ve lived a lifetime; there has been broken bones, cuts, scrapes, giving birth twice, gallstones, root canals and heartache aplenty but this is her first blister so I needed to remember that. Damn Big Guy and his even temperament.
I still felt it was my duty to explain to her, in my most compassionate demeanor I could muster after being eye-rolled at, that the things in life that we want to accomplish are worth working hard for. I explained that as an athlete (because believe me you, being a ballerina is being one of the most intense athletes there are) you have to work to build up muscle memory, strength, and stamina. Those things are not just a given, for anyone. Anyone who is dancing ballet at the performing level is working their asses off…through the pain, through the blisters.
Blisters are a part of life. Blisters on the body, blisters of the heart and blisters of the soul all hurt. No one likes blisters but there is a sense of accomplishment that comes with knowing that you did it, in spite of the blisters.
Update: My evil plan to raise resilient, good human beings is working. She just called and told me that she got 2 more blisters today. She cried the whole time (so did three other girls) but she finished and I told her how effing proud I was of her and that tonight, I will take care of those nasty, old blisters. Hey, what do you expect? I’m human. Sometimes, the reward for hard work is a little babying by your mama.
What is your best tip on how to raise resilient hardworking children in today’s everybody gets a trophy world?
2017/07/11
Be a better parent – Day 26 – How to say sorry
Yesterday’s Be a Better Parent Challenge – Day 25 – Get Some Sleep
was pretty easy , for once, to adhere to. The girls have been going to bed at 6 pm on school days. It rocks and is amazing ( remember just a few months a ago I was telling you of the bed time trauma). Of course, going to bed early for me is midnight. But midnight is awesome when you are used to going to bed at 2 am. It’s also amazing what a difference actually relaxing before bed makes in your restfulness.Hope you all got some extra sleep. When my girls were younger and full on bedtime crackheads, I would just go to bed with them. I had absolutely NO LIFE, but I got some sleep albeit if my bedtime was 9 pm. (more…)
2010/08/26
Oh my Mommy heart.
Yesterday was Sunday.Sunday’s are bittersweet around here. They are simultaneously filled with big breakfasts, mass, lazy days of Halloween decorating, cuddling, mostly just being together. Unfortunately, for us, it is also always filled with certain goodbyes and impending sadness.
As most of you know, the Big Guy has been working out of state a lot of the time. This leaves me an overworked, stressed, spread much to thin Mommy.The girls are hyper emotional, dealing with some issues of abandonment, missing their Daddy, and testing my boundaries. The Big Guy is working his ass off,lonely and missing his family.It’s a pretty raw deal all the way around but we make the sacrifice, well, because we have to. It’s not ideal but it’s what needs to be done..right now.
The good great fantastic news blessing is that he has finally gotten a permanent position with a great company. Which means soon we will all be in the same zip code.Obviously, that is AWESOME! But in the interim, until spring when we can put the house on the market, after the Nutcracker has been performed, after kindergarten graduation, we have to live for our weekends together because its all we have. We spend our days marking time until the next time we can all be together. It’s quite pathetic all the way around. Don’t get me wrong, we have been doing this for about 8 months and we have established a groove. About once about every 3 months, I have a major emotional breakdown. You know, things get too overwhelming and I just can’t go on any longer alone. I make it to the weekend and then he says something like, “I need you to move with me now …so you can work and I can watch the kids at night.” Normally, that would be no big deal but for some reason under these circumstances they instigated a complete breakdown. First, I felt insulted that he didn’t think I was working, then there was the whole he only wants us with him so that I can work, then I was broken by the fact that I am missing him terribly..in my heart, in my arms, in my bed and he is missing…my revenue? Then he told me, that he has been telling me for weeks that he misses us and wants us to be together. I’ve been stuck on autopilot trying to survive this situation. I am trying to do what is best for the girls, for our family…not what is necessarily good for me. Of course being together would be better for me. I could share the parenting, share the load, share my life but in my mind it’s not a feasible option, so why entertain it? But he said that he felt that him missing us was not enough of a catalyst for me, so he figured since I am so concerned with our finances that he would coerce me to relocate early by threatening financial ruin.
Of course, I had a good long cry on a Sunday morning. You know of the cathartic, sobbing, hyperventilating, can’t breathe, very ugly, body shaking variety and all he could do was hold me. But it was nice to have him here to hold me. We both regrouped and moved on. We went shopping, had lunch, blanketed the neighborhood as a family taking our Bella to sell her candy bars for school, visiting with all the neighbors, Then we came home and put up our giant blow up witch in the yard and pretended to be like every other family on the block. But it was still Sunday. There is no denying when its ourSundays, the sadness is palpable and becomes almost smothering around 5:30 pm. We can pretend we are normal until then.
The Big Guy has been trying to stick around until after the girls are asleep, to help me out with bedtime /Missing Daddy meltdowns.God bless him. Of course, last night Bella went right to sleep after only a brief tantrum. But Gabs, oh my Gabs, she was nodding off in my lap as the Big Guy kissed us goodbye. We were both a little emotional because we have had to say more goodbyes in the last 8 months than most married couples do in a lifetime together. Right as he walked out the door, Gabs lifted her head and did a demonstration of my breakdown that morning.Wailing and screaming. ” Me miss my Daddy! Me want my Daddy!” After about 30 minutes,I finally calmed her down. Of course, we had 3 repeat performances last night..each time she stirred from her slumber. I tried to soothe her each time, but when a baby wants Daddy..a Mommy is a poor substitute. I just kept feeling that horrible lump in my throat( that I know so well) and a pain in my heart…my poor breaking Mommy heart!
2010/10/11