The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Commuter Marriage~The Sunday When No One Got Left Behind
Reunited after Commuter marriage! It’s over. It’s finally over! It’s the first Sunday in over a year where no one had to leave anyone behind and no one had to stand at the stoop waving bye, feeling deflated and left behind. Tonight’s bedtime was monumental. The girls didn’t have to cry that they wanted their Daddy because the Big Guy didn’t have to leave. It is such a simple thing but it makes my heart so happy for all of us to be together. I’m so excited that I’m not even that annoyed that I had to miss BlogHer to make it happen.
Reunited after Commuter Marriage and it Feels so Good
For over a year now, our lives have been upside down and inside out. This is not an exaggeration, this is a commuter marriage with kids. I’ve tried my damnest to hold it together, to get to this very place…our finish line. I’ve spend every third month having a terrible frantic breakdown. Watched Sundays evolve into the no good terrible day of the week for our family. Sunday’s have been spent waking up angry because we knew it meant goodbyes. None of us were happy. It was miserable. Life was about surviving and getting by until the next opportunity to be together. It was harder than anything I have ever experienced. I can’t even explain because commuter marriage is a lot like labor in the sense that the pain is indescribable and so unbelievable that no one could understand. Not really.Not ever.It can only be understood, if survived.
Reunited from Commuter Marriage at last
This morning, we awoke and it was like a storm cloud had lifted from our lives. We all got dressed and went to mass together, stopped by the store to pick up ingredients for dinner and headed home to have brunch at the same table with no one having to run off. We lounged around the house while the girls played with their toy kitchen and made us all “dinner”. I worked on the computer, the Big Guy watched television and the sound of the girls laughter could be heard throughout the house. Then we made dinner together and after a early evening ,outdoor tea party with the girls , “we” put them to bed. No shrill, desperate crying for Daddy because he was there to kiss them goodnight. It was children slipping off to slumber on a warm August evening. It probably sounds mundane to most of you reading this because it is your norm. For us, it was bliss. It was one of the most perfect days that we’ve had in a really long time.
I’ve learned a lot about myself in these past two years, mostly that absence does not make the heart grow fonder. It makes the heart grow sad, the soul grow weary and the mind grow weak. Life is about more than just having the life that you want, it is about appreciating the life that you have and NOT taking a single moment together for granted. I’d like to say that surviving this commuter marriage ordeal has made me a better person, made me grow in some profound way but mostly it’s made me wiser. It’s also shown me how strong I can be, how resilient my daughters are and how profoundly amazing my husband is. I’ve spent this time apart, feeling somewhat sorry for myself being left alone with our girls to raise them but I didn’t even think, until now, that every time I felt left behind and deflated on that stoop and the girls felt sad that they couldn’t reach out their arms and grab their daddy’s neck…he had to drive away alone and watch as we disappeared out of his mirror and out of his life for 5 days of the week. I am so happy to say Goodbye to Goodbyes and hello to being reunited with the Big Guy. Reunited with normal. Reunited as a 7 day a week family and no more commuter marriage.
Reunited together;Survived Our Commuter Marriage
2011/08/08
Finally a Princess for Latinas Elena of Avalor
Elena of Avalor is a princess for my little girls. Latinas, how long have we been waiting for a Latina princess to share with our daughters? Seems like a lifetime, right? The closest we’ve had has been Dora and she’s not even a princess. She was a little explorer with a blue monkey in wellies but we loved her because she was all we had at the time, when my girls were babies.
Then a few years back, we were super excited about Sophia the First but that kind of fizzled and, while she is adorable and my niece’s favorite princess, she is not really Latina in any discernable way, unless you count her brown hair.
Well, no more. She is here. Disney’s new Elena of Avalor is an animated series that follows the story of Elena, a brave and adventurous teenager who saves her kingdom from an evil sorceress and must now learn to rule as crown princess until she is old enough to be queen. Set in Avalor, an enchanted fairytale kingdom inspired by diverse Latin cultures and folklore, Elena’s journey will lead her to understand that her new role requires thoughtfulness, resilience and compassion, the traits of all truly great leaders.
Elena of Avalor is a princess for every little Latina girl.
I am excited for Elena and so are my girls but, honestly, I am reserving judgement for after I see a few episodes and see just what Disney did with their first ever Latina princess. I want to see if she is really a true representation of a Latina girl. Is she someone my daughters can look to and recognize themselves? Or is she simply like every other princess but with a slightly tanner complexion? These things are important to me and my daughters and they matter.
I’ve watched two episodes and I love the focus of the importance of family. I love the fact that her grandparents call her mija and they play guitars like my father, my daughters and I. I also loved that they made it all begin when she was 15, which is a very important year for a Latina girl because it is the year of our Quincinera. This is especially exciting for my girls because they are already planning their quincineras that are 4 and 6 years away.
One of my most favorite things is that the people of Avalor, though Latino, are all different shades of skin tone, hair and eyes and that is more realistic than most portrayals on television. I also really appreciate the references to Latino culture and language. In fact, my daughters said, “They only got one thing wrong…our Grandpa Manny doesn’t have grey hair.”
Meanwhile, I know all the little Latina girls are going to want to get their hands on Elena of Avalor merchandise because, you know how we Latinas are, we support one another and we really want to love Elena. I just hope she can live up to our expectations. I had the opportunity to get my hands on a few pieces and my daughters really loved them. They really love the “Sister Time” song and love both Elena and Isabel.
Hasbro provided me with three dolls from the Elena of Avalor collection for review purposes.
My girls are loving them and I have partnered with Hasbro to giveaway a gift pack of Elena of Avalor prize pack for that special little girl in your life.
*Disney Elena of Avalor and Skyler 2-Pack; ages 3 years & up; $34.99
*Disney My Time Singing Elena of Avalor Doll; ages 3 years & up; $29.99
*Disney Elena of Avalor Doll; ages 3 years & up; $14.99
a Rafflecopter giveaway

To enter to win all you have to do is subscribe to my newsletter and leave a comment below telling me what you love the most about Disney’s newest princess Elena of Avalor.
2016/07/22
I Will Not Become the Invisible Woman
Disclosure: This post is made possible with support from AARP’s Disrupt Aging. All opinions are my own.
People say that as women grow older, they become invisible. Well, I think women have been fed this line of bull ish since they were little girls. I don’t believe that to be true. I believe the myth of the invisible woman is not only untrue, it is unacceptable. If anything, as I’ve gotten older, my voice has grown stronger and louder. I’ve shed the expectations of others like a heavy coat in August.
I used to worry about what other people thought. When I was a little girl, I was even shy. I measured my worth and success by other people’s standards and it was impossible. It was scary. You always fall short when you’re measuring yourself against someone else’s view of who you are supposed to be.
READ ALSO: How to Empower Your Little Girl to Speak Up for Yourself
When I was a little girl, my dad told me “If you have something worth saying, stand up and tell your truth. Never be afraid to speak up and stand up for what’s important to you!” I think he was hoping that mantra applied to everyone else, except him. But for me, it applied to everyone. And believe me, if I could stand up to my strict Mexican father, I can stand up to anyone. I’m not afraid of confrontation.
I noticed as I went off to college as a young woman, I threw myself into causes. I was a member of PETA, Green Peace and planned on joining the Peace Corps after graduation. I was involved in politics and feminist organizations. I was always about power to the people but back then, I kept my standing up to organized functions and college essays.
I wanted to make the world a better place, I just wasn’t sure that I wanted to sacrifice my place in it to do it. I was young and ambitious but I was naïve and wasn’t quite sure how my voice being heard in the world could reconcile with me finding a place and the life I wanted in that same world. I was like most people.
Then, I became a mother. I gave birth and in that moment, I went from caring what other people thought about how I stood up or raised my voice and singularly concerned myself with making the world a better place for my children. Nothing else was/is more important to me. There is no room for ego in motherhood.
Some may see that as a weakness but I drew strength from those little girls. When I thought I couldn’t stand back up and speak up for what was right, when it got hard and it was easier to just maintain the status quo, all I needed to do was look to these little girls with their big eyes fixed on my every move and the answer was simple. It was right there all the time, out of the mouth of my father…stand up. Tell your truth. Never be afraid to put it on the line for what’s important to you!
READ ALSO: How to Raise Brave Women and Compassionate Humans
I became emboldened with a fierceness that I had never known before. I was compelled to speak up when others could not. That’s when I developed my Wonder woman stance. I was ready to make the entire world hear me if it meant a better world for my girls to grow up in. Maintaining the status quo is no longer an option.
My girls are now tweens and teens and as they grow more into young ladies and are less children, I see society slowly putting its foot on their necks and I will not allow it. I’ve found that the older they get, the more they understand and they want to stand with me against the injustices of the world. Their eyes are still fixed on me, watching my every move.
I’ve hit the place in my life where I demand to be heard. I am the furthest thing from invisible. I owe it to my daughters to not give a spit what anyone else thinks of me. I want my daughters to see me speaking up, standing up and fighting for what is right. I refuse to let them see me give up when things get tough. I will never let them see me go invisible to make other people comfortable and I hope I inspire them to use their voices and never become invisible.
I will no longer let society set the expectations of who I am supposed to be. And I will never let the world tell my girls who they can, what they can do or that they should be seen and not heard.
The older I get, the louder I plan to become. The world will see me because I will refuse to become unseen and unheard.
What is the one wisdom that you want to impart to your children?
2018/06/28
The New Bitty Baby will Blow Your Littlest American Girl Away
This summer while I was at BlogHer, I had the pleasure of attending an event at the American Girl store in downtown Chicago and I saw the Bitty Baby doll. This Bitty Baby can be ordered to look just like your little girl when she was a bitty baby. Talk about a personalized baby doll.
I’d never been to American Girl at night and without a few hundred screaming little girls so it was completely different than any other time, I’d been there. As I sipped on champagne and shopped in quiet, I saw the American Girl Dolls and Bitty baby in a way I had never seen them before. It was magical to see them all on display and have the chance to appreciate their beauty and purpose; their stories.
The event concluded with a wonderful tea upstairs complete with loads of sweets and champagne, this was mommy heaven. Now, I get why the kids all go crazy the minute they enter the door. Then for the big finale, American Girl announced an expanded and enhanced Bitty Baby line to Create One-of-a-Kind Companions for the Littlest American Girls. Better still, they were gifting each attendee her very own Bitty Baby to order to look however she liked. I obviously ordered mine to look exactly like my girls did when they were born.
In case you are not familiar with Bitty Babies, they are designed for girls ages 3 and up. They look like a baby instead of the usual little girl American Girl Dolls. They are a sweet 15-inch soft-bodied doll available in 11 different combinations of skin tone, eye-, and hair-color, allowing your littlest girl to choose her very own baby doll that’s just like her. Each Bitty Baby doll comes dressed in her signature sleeper, along with a special “wishing star” keepsake toy and a beautifully illustrated Bitty Baby and Me hardcover picture book. The enhanced Bitty Baby also has several new outfits in various designs available for purchase.
Our Bitty Baby arrived about a week after I returned home. I didn’t tell the girls she was coming so when she arrived, they were shocked and pleasantly surprised.
My girls adore their Bitty Baby. I’ve caught my 6-year-old on more than one occasion singing to her baby. The new Bitty Babies also include a picture-book collection so you and your little girl can snuggle up close and read along as the little girl in the book and her Bitty Baby explore their world. What’s better than an excuse to snuggle in with your own precious Bitty Baby while learning lessons about generosity, confidence, curiosity and kindness? There is also a special section called “for parents” which focuses on social and emotional development of preschoolers and has tips to help your little girl become more confident, patient and independent.
The new line also offers story-themed play sets to encourage imaginative play and of course, matching outfits for your little girl and her Bitty Baby. Trust me, there is nothing more adorable than a little girl an her doll dressed alike. They also now offer a new line of premium plush animals and quality furniture, including a wooden crib and changing table.
This is the perfect gift for the little American Girl Doll fan in your life. This is sure to be at the top of every little girl’s Christmas list this year.
Who is your favorite American Girl Doll?

Disclaimer: I was gifted a Bitty Baby at the American Girl event that I attended but all opinions expressed are my own.

2013/10/10
Being a Feminist is a Movement NOT a Bad Word #IAMAFEMINIST
Feminist: A person ( a man or woman) who advocates or supports the social, political, legal and economic rights and equality of women to men.
According to Time Magazine, “Feminist” is one of the terms that may lead you to “seek out the nearest pair of chopsticks and thrust them through your own eardrums” and it should be banned from existence. The good people of Time are tired of hearing every female celebrity’s declaration of whether or not she is a feminist. (I’m tired of hearing all their backpedaling). Did I mention that the writer of the piece was a woman, Katy Steinmetz?
Poll conductor Katy Steinmetz flippantly referred to the use of feminist as this,
“You have nothing against feminism itself, but when did it become a thing that every celebrity had to state their position on whether this word applies to them, like some politician declaring a party? Let’s stick to the issues and quit throwing this label around like ticker tape at a Susan B. Anthony parade.”
The world is simply tired of hearing all these damn women complaining about being treated like second-class citizens; with making less than men for the same work, being objectified and being given the general direction of “be seen and not heard”. I’m sorry that women’s wanting to be treated as human beings is annoying you, Time Magazine. I’m sorry me wanting my daughters to know that what lies between their legs does not make them less than a man.
In case you are new here, I am a feminist.
I am a raging, in-your-face feminist that has the audacity to believe that men and women are equal in value as human beings and as such, should be treated with equal rights and respect in the world. I don’t believe that women are better than men. I don’t hate men. I don’t even want it all. I just want to live life on my terms with basic human rights.
Time could have called for a ban on the word “feminist” any time, but they did it during a year when the conversation about the meaning of the term is being seriously discussed. They did it at a time when the movement is growing when young girls are finally understanding what it means to be a feminist and craving it; realizing they deserve to be treated as human beings with dignity and respect just like their male counterparts.
We should all be feminists – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie at TEDxEuston
“We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, ‘You can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful, otherwise you will threaten the man,’” “Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important thing. Now, marriage can be a source of joy and love and mutual support, but why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage and we don’t teach boys the same? We raise girls to see each other as competitors, not for jobs or for accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing, but for the attention of men. We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are. Feminist: the person who believes in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes.”
Basically, a feminist, contrary to popular belief, is not someone who hates men or hates being a woman and wants to be a man but we are simply women and men who believe in equal rights and treatment for all human beings. I don’t want special privileges, nor do I think my equality should diminish a man’s rights. I’m a raging feminist and I have been for decades.
I came out of the womb believing that I could do and be anything I wanted to and I am not alone in believing this. Sure, people along the way may have tried to derail that belief but you can’t keep a good woman down. If you tell me that I can’t do something, I just want to do it that much more.
My dreams are not limited by my sex. The last time I checked, having a vagina did not cause a drop in IQ, creativity or innovation. I promise, our brains are in no danger of falling out between our legs. I believe that if you are alive and kicking and willing to put in the hard work and dedication, you can achieve absolutely anything, regardless of what lies between your legs.
I believe that we should all wear lip gloss, fancy bras or no bra at all, stay home, work out of the home, get married, don’t get married, have 5 kids, or have none. We should reach for the stars and dare to be whatever we want to be. I believe that we should be afforded the respect to make that choice for ourselves. I am a feminist. I am raising feminists. And I am proud to say that I am married to a feminist man who should be the role model for all men.
#IAMAFEMINST
What are your thoughts on removing the world Feminist from existence?
2014/11/13
Easy Fishtail Hairstyle Tutorial & the Secret to No More Tangles
Attention: Moms of girls, in collaboration with JOHNSON’S® NO MORE TANGLES® and Latina Bloggers Connect I’m bringing you this very important PSA today about how to brush your little girls hair without losing your mind or causing a family war. Yes, there is such a thing.
Have you ever spent an hour in the morning brushing through chlorinated bed head? No? Let me start by saying that every time our little girls get their hair wet this summer, it becomes more susceptible to sun damage. This makes hair brushing a circle of hell that not even Dante was willing to mention for fear that uttering the words may doom him to eternal damnation with a 7-year-old with a tender head. Ay Caray!
There has to be a better way. My 7-year-old daughter gets mad and starts crying all because I try to brush her hair. I just want to stop the kid going out into the world looking like la llorona. Either I take them to the neighborhood pool and they develop this awful, straw like dried out hair that is impenetrable by a comb or we don’t go swimming and I’m crowned the meanest mom in the world. Decisions, decisions!
So anything that helps alleviate that morning tension between the girls and I is all good with me. I want my girls to remember their childhood summers with fond memories of sleeping in, lazy days spent playing in backyard tents, bike riding, road trips and sweet memories of their mommy brushing their hair as we have long talks about life, not that I pulled their hair and made them cry. So we tried out JOHNSON’S® NO MORE TANGLES® easy step-by-step hair regimen to help keep their hair nourished, beautiful and healthy-looking.
- Step 1 Cleanse: JOHNSON’S® NO MORE TANGLES® Shampoo and Conditioner
- Step 2 Nourish: JOHNSON’S® NO MORE TANGLES® Leave-In Conditioner
- Step 3 Style: JOHNSON’S® NO MORE TANGLES® Detangling Spray
Then, I styled her hair as usual into a cute, messy side fishtail.

Then, we went on with our day of shopping, bike riding and jumping on the trampoline. The best part of this hairstyle is that it looks great on little girls of any age (including me) and even after a day of activity, her hair only looks better because it is made to look messy. Best summer hairstyle ever.
2014/07/31
Help Soothe Frightened Children on Stormy Nights
This shop has been compensated by #CollectiveBias, Inc. and its advertiser Duracell. All opinions are mine alone.
The song says rainy days get me down but not my family because we’ve got Duracell batteries a plenty from our local Walmart. We’ve got rechargeable Duracell batteries in AA because almost everything we own takes AA batteries and a drawer full of Duracell coppertop batteries in every size just in case we need them for lanterns, battery powered radios and fans. We #PrepWithPower so we are not caught off guard during thunderstorms or those instances when we all find ourselves hiding in the basement from a Midwestern tornado or tomato as my 7-year-old calls them sighting that . I love a good rainy day or night during the summer. It gives me time inside with the girls to just relax and spend time without expectation of pools, parks and running from place to place. I throw the windows open because I love the smell and sound of rain and the bullfrogs that come with the rain. I look at a storm like permission to just be still. To every life may there be a little rain, so that we might enjoy those gorgeous sunny days. But that doesn’t mean that storms have to ruin your day. There are many things you can do to not only be prepared by enjoy when storms happen. When my girls were smaller, thunder and lightening frightened them and they would regularly run to my bed for shelter. At first, I was annoyed because I love storms so much but then I realized it was just an excuse for me to get to hunker down and cuddle my girls. We all piled into my king sized window and watched as the lightening lit up the night sky. We’d sing songs like Mary had a little lamb and you are my sunshine to drown out the booming thunder as it rolled in.
I learned early on to keep batteries, lanterns, candles, flashlights and everything charged. As the girls got older, we’d have picnics in the middle of the living room if our pool day was rained out. We’d watch movies in bed in our pajamas. And after the storm passed, as a family, we’d go outside and look for rainbows and jump in puddles.By doing this, the girls began to no longer fear the rain and storms but look forward to the rainbow that appeared after the storm passed; to appreciate the smell of rain and the pure joy of jumping in puddles.

Now, at ages 7 and 9 if there is a thunderstorm or a tornado warning, my girls have learned to trust that the Big Guy and I will always have their back and protect them. Now, they enjoy it by building forts, reading, singing songs, playing games like Candy land and checkers, telling ghost stories or just enjoying one another’s company, sharing sister secrets like sisters do and that makes me grateful for the storms in our lives. We look for the rainbows. How does your family prepare for storms and inclement weather? How do you teach your children to embrace life’s stormy weather?

This shop has been compensated by #CollectiveBias, Inc. and its advertiser Duracell. All opinions are mine alone.
2014/07/07
That One Time I Went Into “Heat” at Panda Express

Today, I am going to tell you a little story about raising daughters and menstruation. No, it has nothing to do with half-naked selfies but it just might be TMI so if you are squeamish about lady parts or feminine hygiene products and the such, I should warn you do not read any further. If you faint at the sight of blood? Stop! Do not continue reading! Back the truck up and run in the other direction.Go. Run. Fast. It’s about to get real up in here. For real, for real!
As many of you know, I have two little girls that I am trying to raise with self-confidence, independence and verve for life. I want them to live life so fully that they just grab it with both hands and jump. I want them to live life on their own terms. I want happiness and equality for them but more than anything else, I want them to always know they can come to me.about.anything. ANYTHING! That includes pubic hair, menstruation, boobs and yes, even sex, masturbation and childbirth.
I parent with honesty and openness. I want them to ask questions. We talk about everything. If they ask, I answer. I am trying to build trust and respect to compliment the unconditional love. I want them to not only be children that I love but people that I like and I hope they feel the same way about me one day but today, I am their mommy and my job is to mother them.
Anyways, sometimes even when you think you are doing it right, things get muddled and you are left wondering WTH just happened? This is what happened to me yesterday in the bathroom at Panda Express. Don’t judge.
The girls had their well visits yesterday and got a surprise Hepatitis vaccination and flu mist sprung on them. That did not go over very well so to “help the medicine go down” we promised them a dinner out. It was the least we could do.
In the middle of dinner, my littlest one informed me that she MUST go to the potty or she will “actually” pee herself. Her words, not mine. Obviously, that’s kid code for four-alarm code yellow. I realized that I could use a little tinkle and check myself, so off we went. Of course, we travel in packs, where one goes, so shall the other and with that, per usual, we had 3 girls in a stall. Only once we got in there, I realized shark week was back with a vengeance.This was a straight up Jaws emergency. If you know what I mean?
FYI, public restrooms are not the place to tackle the subject of menstruation.
The girls have always gone into the bathroom stall with me in public places if I have to use the facilities. Its just the way it’s always been; co-sleeping and co-toileting, attachment parenting gone wild.I don’t want them to get abducted but I also don’t want to give step-by-step directions on how to use a tampon yet either. I practice discretionary, ninja-like tampon changing skills. They know that sometimes mommy gets a “booboo”. They think a tampon is like a Band-Aid for your vagina and they are sort of right. But they are getting older and we just had the conversation in May about puberty and periods, thanks to a dog that went into premature heat.
I asked the girls to turn around. They do and I successfully execute my quick change and flush. This is nothing I ever thought I would be doing in my life, then again I never thought I would randomly be smelling baby’s butts in public restaurants either. How the mighty have fallen. Remember, a baby changes everything and all that shit?
Only, life hates me and the toilet is one of those green, low-flow, crunchy granola Woodstock, no bra-wearing, hairy armpit bastards and no match for the super duper, no-holds barred, epic nuclear- reactive, cotton torpedo that I needed to use that day to keep the sharks at bay. So everything flushes. Except.the.Damn.Tampon! It re-appears waterlogged and even larger than before and as it does, in slow motion, both girls turn around to see it breaking the surface of the pink toilet water. Then this happened.
Menstruation happened!
Gabs (screaming at the top of her lungs): “Oh no! Mommy, I saw blood!!!!”
Me: “Remember I told you what happened with the dog?”
Gabs (whispering and completely serious): “Oh my God, Mommy, did you just go into heat???”
Me (dying of laughter on the inside, trying my damnest to keep a straight face): “No honey. People don’t go into heat. We have periods.”
Gabs: “Oh because I was scared we were going to have to keep you inside because all the daddies in the neighborhood were going to try to jump on you.”
Then, I died.
And just like that shark week wasn’t so bad anymore. Have you ever been caught in a state of shark week? How did you explain menstruation to your little one?
2013/09/06
Throat Punch Thursday~ Miley Cyrus: Don’t Call Me Fat! Edition
Miley Cyrus is NOT Fat
Miley Cyrus: Don’t Call Me Fat! ~ Seriously, what in the world is wrong with people? Miley Cyrus is not fat. She looks like a healthy young woman. Healthy and woman being the operative words. Hollywood is so used to seeing the Miley Cyrus and Demi Lovato girls of the world running around like starved waifs that when they see them with a curvy figure they cry FAT! The Miley Cyrus: Don’t call me Fat! article that is seemingly everywhere is has onlookers split down the middle. There are actually people in the world who think because she is not shaped like a 12 year old boy anymore, she must be fat. This is hurtful gossip at its worst for entertainment value. Shame on you trolls for taking cheap shots and mocking the Marilyn Monroes of the world. If we collectively think that healthy is fat, maybe we are the ones who should seek some help.
Miley Cyrus is Beautiful & Healthy Looking
Why do we have to make a strong young woman feel less than enough when she has had the good fortune and upbringing to know that her self-worth does not come from the size of her jeans. Are we jealous? I love that Miley Cyrus, spunky and sassy as ever, shot back almost immediately by declaring a public Twitter war on those who insulted her. Miley Cyrus tweeted to her three million plus followers, “By calling girls like me fat this is what you’re doing to other people.” Her tweet was accompanied by a picture of an emaciated woman.
This is the Photo that Miley Cyrus Tweeted
Of course if the above photo is what one identifies with as chic and thin then they may want to seek some mental health themselves. I used to think the image above was a good size and that the Marilyn Monroes of the world were fat. Then again, I have a diagnosis of Body dysmorphic disorder and anorexia/bulima on my books. Even I know that this above photo is too thin. Miley was right to be hurt and insulted. Miley went on to criticize her critics, writing, “I love MYSELF & if you could say the same you wouldn’t be sitting on your computer trying to hurt others.”
To drive the point home, Miley Cyrus posted a picture of Marilyn Monroe with the caption, “Proof that you can be adored by thousands of men, even when your thighs touch.” Damn, I wish I had this girls self-confidence!
Soon, Miley’s friend and fellow pop star Demi Lovato joined in on Twitter tweeting back, “I love you, whoever called you that has it coming.” Lovato recently got out of rehab, which she entered in part due to body image issues. Demi Lovato had to defend her post-rehab weight gain back in August, as well.
Miley responded : @ddlovato AMEN! I will destroy any one that ever calls you the F word. You have the SEXIIIESTTTT curvyyyy body! I LOVE IT! #werkthosecurves
Cyrus wasn’t backing down. She tweeted again, “I LOVE being shaped like a WOMAN & trust me ladies your man won’t mind either.” Indeed, young master. I really wish I had her confidence and felt that comfortable with my body. This is a great message to send to women everywhere. Men don’t want girls who are shaped like little boys, unless they are Jerry Sandusky…then maybe.

Amen! I commend these young girls for having the fortitude to stand up to Hollywood’s image of what beauty is and for speaking up in defense for healthy young women everywhere. You are not fat. You are beautiful, healthy and hopefully happy. If we could just get the rest of the world to understand what you already know, our self worth is not determined by the size of our jeans. Throat punch to all the asshats who think it’s okay to make a running commentary on someone else’s body. Whether you are being a lecherous pervert or a jerky hater, keep your comments on other peoples sizes and shapes to yourself. They have mirrors in their house and they are perfectly aware of any and all flaws that you might feel is your duty to point out. Know this, they know they are there. No one needs your jokes or opinions. Miley Cyrus you impress me with your big, giant self-confidence!

2011/11/17
Perhaps they are not stars
We have this dog, Saffaron ( Saffy as we affectionately refer to her as) and she is almost 11. Now, she is not a tiny thing a ma bob or a golden noodle hybrid, she is an adorable boxer. We love her like crazy and we have for the past 11 years but old girl is getting, well…old! This poor dog went from being the big guy and my first “baby” to being basically another play set for our girls. Our girls mean well, and they think they are “loving on her” but Lord, if that is love..it really does hurt. But Saffy, old girl, she doesn’t miss a beat. She stands there, never growls or shows her teeth, and rolls with the punches. We protect her and intervene on her behalf..regularly but I know if it was happening to me and I was 77 , I’d be biting someone.
That being said, I am getting worried about the fact that sooner than later, Ms. Saffy will be leaving us for greener pastures. My girls really do adore this dog, she is their big sister. If I am telling them how much I love them..they always remind me..”Don’t forget about Saffy, Mommy!” I know when the time comes, little hearts will be severely broken. I am just trying to avoid broken psyches. I’ve been trying to , in the most simplistic way possible, explain to my daughters about death. Basically, I have explained that when a person or animal dies, they go to sleep and leave this earth. We won’t see them again on earth.They know about heaven and they are stoked that people who die get to go there and be well and happy. But sad that said person will no longer be with us. I am always careful to not say when people get old they die because I know Bella, she’d be watching the grandparents like a hawk.
I think I am over sensitive about the issue because growing up, we never really had to deal with death so I am not so good at it myself ( Hell, I’m afraid of how I will act when the dog dies. Shit, Saf better wait until the big guy is home to pick up all the pieces). Growing up, I seldom remember people or pets dying and I think it had something to do with the way my parents ~~dealt~~ didn’t deal with the topic. For example, growing up we had a dog named “Pancho” ( yes, yes, I know..odd choice for a dog’s name:) for my entire childhood. Now, you say, “Wow! That was one hell of a long life lived by this dog” That would be a pretty fair assumption, but it would be wrong. Did I mention Pancho was a Shepard, a beagle, a spaniel,a terrier, a Rottweiler, and a couple different really cute mutts. Yeah, apparently if Pancho died or “ran away” my dad would just replace it…with whatever dog struck his fancy. We’d ask “What happened to Pancho?” And he would put the dog in front of us and say, “What are you talking about? This IS Pancho!” So let it be written, so let it be done. He was Papi so we just took his word for it.
Then there was my freshman year of college when my Grandma was dying of lung cancer. I’d speak to my Mom pretty regularly who was taking care of her, and Mom kept telling me that every time the phone rang, my Grandma would ask, “Is that Debi? Is that my Sug ( as in sugar..which is what my Grandma always called me..she’s from Tennessee that’s how they roll down there)” Anyways, I knew my Gran was sick but apparently not how sick. I went about my semester and right after midterms I came home for October break. The house is empty..weird, right? Finally, my Dad appeared. He made some chit chat with my friend who drove me home for break, even offered him some food. Once I could get a word in edgewise, I inquired, “Where’s Mommy? ( and the rest of my brothers and sisters for that matter and yes,I realize I was 18 calling my Mother “Mommy”.I still do..so what!)” My Dad:” Oh, They are in Tennessee at your Grandma’s funeral ( all very matter of factly)” WTF??? Me: “Why didn’t somebody tell me?(sobbing)” Dad: ” Your Mom didn’t want to bother you during midterms. Your Grandma didn’t want her to.” See what I mean? Totally not making me face death. I missed the funeral, the wake and never really got to say goodbye.
That’s how its been my whole life. I’ve been to a couple wakes but when it comes down to it, the finality of it all, I can’t do it ( “It” meaning the whole putting someone in the ground and actually saying goodbye). In fact, no one’s even insisted that I had to. At this point in my life,the emotional collateral damage may completely destroy me. I know there will come a time(very soon) that I will have to face my fears, we have a couple Greats that are in their 80’s and I have to get a grip.These are women who are big parts of my girls lives so my girls will have to be given the opportunity to say goodbye. I can not deprive them of that because of my own phobias. I’ve found that once a family member dies, I just don’t go back to that city again. Crazy, I KNOW! It’s just that ,subconsciously, I know that once I go there and they are no longer there, I have to face the reality..the pain of loss. This is how it has always been for me. So, I am trying with my own handicapped sense of loss to explain this to my daughters because I don’t want them to be crippled by the fear of losing their loved ones but to know it is just a small part of living and that dying is not the end but the beginning of another chapter. After all, isn’t it my duty as their Mother to prepare them for life? Part of life is dealing with loss and as painful and unversed as I am in dealing with it myself, I must find a way to navigate the situation so that I can make it easier on them,when the time comes that they have to deal with a loss.
This is an Eskimo Proveb quote that I find beautiful and reassuring. I hope to share it with my girls as a source of comfort as they grow into women and are forced to embrace the reality that no one lives forever.
“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
2010/06/02