The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Some Things Truly Do Change You Forever
Today is October 1st, the first day of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Today also marks 5 months since we lost our baby. It’s been 5 months since my miscarriage. It’s the anniversary of the worst day of my life.

This was the first time we ever saw our third baby
We had already been blessed with two beautiful children and I was waiting for the day that the little heart beating blip would turn into a goo covered bundle being laid on my chest. I looked forward to it. My brain ran wild with thoughts of my girls playing with their newborn brother or sister, fawning over his every breath and cry and whimper. I could already see Bella mothering him and sitting by my side as I nursed him begging me to hold him. Gabi would be over the moon. All she’s ever wanted was to big be a big sister. She would have adored that baby like you couldn’t imagine and the Big Guy, he would have fallen so deeply in love with that baby that he would have been his forever, just like he has done with each of our babies. I wanted that baby so much, for so many reasons.
In the past five months, my heart has broken a million different times at the most random occasions but lately it’s gotten harder. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that I keep bumping into women at school, at church, in the store who are pregnant and look to be as far along as I should be. Every time I see one, my heart is reminded of what will never be and it hurts. I know that I am not the first one to suffer this devastating loss and I know that those around me don’t feel this gaping hole that is where my heart used to be but I do.
My girls have moved on from asking about our baby in heaven and the Big Guy never talks about it but he listens when I need to. He knows that the first day of every month, I’m not myself and a little part of me wants to crawl into bed and die just like I did on the day that I found out. I am not purposely lingering in my loss but it’s always there. It haunts me. I think it might always haunt me. I will never forget, any of it. My miscarriage changed me forever, I know that now.
I am past the anger of my miscarriage now, on most days. Now, it’s just a quiet lingering pain of loss. I am happy for those around me who are pregnant and having babies. I am excited at the prospect of my sisters and sisters-in-law and friends to tell me their joyous news. I can’t wait to hold them close and kiss their tiny foreheads but still I am sorry that I will never get to hold my third baby. I will miss that. I am sad knowing that just for a little while I had a little miracle living inside me that I will never get to meet.So today, on the first day of the month and the first day of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, I sit here looking at the ultrasound photos and sob for my beautiful baby in heaven.
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I first shared this post on my friend, Jill’s site Scary Mommy on August 23,2012. She gave me a place to share the events of that day when I was too afraid to share it here. I didn’t want to be that mom who couldn’t stop talking about this one moment but I feel that today is the perfect time to share the details of that day. I can’t promise I won’t talk about it again. I have a feeling that my due date is going to be a pretty painful day for me. Thank you for all of your support and love.
For National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I am sharing my story with you
It was a sunny Monday morning. I had just dropped my 4 year-old off at preschool. I had approximately 2 hours to get to my OBs office and have her check me and tell me nothing was wrong. As I lay there alone on the cold, hard table in the ultrasound room, I expected nothing to be wrong. I had some spotting, as I had with both of my previous pregnancies. Both times previously, everything was fine. I had overreacted. I was 10 weeks and 4 days pregnant with our third child. I just needed the ultrasound and the confirmation that everything was okay and I could continue on with my full day of errands. I wasn’t scared at all. That’s why my husband wasn’t with me. I was wrong.
The ultrasound tech made idle chit chat, apologizing for the wand of the vaginal ultrasound and any pressure that I might be feeling. Then her face went white. I knew. But it had to be a mistake. She continued on in silence. Then the words came, as if in slow motion from across the world, “I’m so sorry, I can’t find your baby’s heartbeat.”
I was in shock. All I could think was, she must have done something wrong. There is a heartbeat; she just doesn’t know what she is doing. I lay there for a couple more minutes, paralyzed and horrified. Embarrassed and humiliated, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to die. I wanted to be dead with no heartbeat, just like my baby inside me. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t cry.
I was interrupted from my internal psychotic break by the ultrasound tech taking my hand softly and telling me, once again, how very sorry she was for my loss and that she would take me downstairs to see my obstetrician “the back way”. I know it was so I wouldn’t have to walk through the waiting room filled with beautiful round bellies full of life. I knew. But it felt like, I was being taken down the back stairs because I was not worthy.
My body had failed my baby and me. There was malfunction and all I could do was take one step at a time and try not falling to the ground and crying forever. It felt surreal like I was watching this happen to someone else. I was outside of my body as I found myself in the Ob waiting room downstairs, not sure if I should politely smile or cry at the other expecting mothers. I was jealous. I was pissed. I was hurt. I felt like my initial reaction of surprise to this pregnancy had somehow made me unworthy to hold my baby. I could not speak. I saw my doctor. She explained the situation. I could barely hear her through my own thoughts. My head was so congested from holding in my pain. I was afraid to open mouth because all of the emotion would come pouring out and drown us all.
I was physically aching. My legs were shaking, my mind was racing, my head was spinning and I was alone; more alone than I have ever been in my life. I needed to hear my husband’s voice. He had to be told. I was the only one who could make that call. He knew I was at the doctor’s office. We’d been here before. We worried for nothing. It was always fine. Not this time.
I dialed the number through my blurry vision, I heard his jovial voice on the other end, “How’s our baby?” I was silent. “Is everything ok?” his concern was palpable. I started to speak, but it didn’t sound like me. It couldn’t be me speaking those words. I opened my mouth and the words came out like a death sentence, “ We had a M…………” and then I began to sob in an uncontrollable and animalistic way in which I have never experienced before. I could not finish the word. It was choking me. I could not say it out loud because then it would be real and then my baby would be dead. The promise of our baby would be broken. Life would be different. I would be different. It would all be less. I would never get to hold my baby in my arms because my baby was gone.
How do you survive a miscarriage? You don’t. You are changed forever. On the day that you lose a child, you lose part of who you were and become someone new; different. Your destiny is changed. You will never be the same. Eventually, you learn to breathe again, you get up of the floor, you stop crying and you somehow carry on.

Our babies who have gone on to heaven may not be here in our arms but they are always in our hearts. During National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, please remember what we can never forget.
October, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month
2012/10/15
Election 2012; Romney or Obama this vote will Change the United States
Election 2012 is closer than I’d ever like any election to be, exciting, intense and with a chance of chaos ensuing. Election 2012 is too close for my comfort. Today is election day and I am terrified. God, I love this country because we have choices. I was pretty proud of myself yesterday. It was one of those mommy moments where you feel like you actually did something right. (more…)
2012/11/06
Throat Punch Thursday~ The No Privacy for a Pregnant Princess Kate Edition
Princess Kate is expecting!
I know that news is so Monday but I have had a crazy week. You may be asking yourself, why does Debi care so much about whether or not Princess Kate is pregnant? I care because Princess Kate is something that my own two princesses and I share. What I mean is, we watched the royal wedding together. Yes, I am that mother. I woke my 5-year-old up at 4:30 am on the morning of the royal wedding. I let her sister sleep in. She was only 3, what am I a monster?
I kept her home from school and we wore tiaras and ate a fancy breakfast while drinking English tea and cheered as Kate Middleton married her prince and became Princess Kate. We love her in this house and we love a good romance, especially of grand fairytale types. We don’t see too many of those these days. It was magical and I will remember it always, just like I remember watching Princess Di marry Prince Charles with my own mother.
We are over the moon excited for Princess Kate and Prince William. Not so excited for the hyperemesis gravidarum because I have so been there. 5 almost 6 months of non stop vomiting with my second child has left me with a large sympathy for any mother -to-be who has to go through that. But as I am bombarded with Princess Kate in the news, I can’t help but feel sorry for her.
Princess Kate looking ever graceful as Prince William looks concerned
I remember that time between finding out I was pregnant and telling my husband and the time we announced it formally. That time is sacred and special and reserved for the parents. It’s that time when you get to walk around the world knowing and keeping the worlds happiest secret. It is magical.
We women wait to announce our pregnancies for many reasons, the number one reason being that if something were to go wrong with the pregnancy, we don’t want to have to see all of those sad, disappointed faces pitying us. It’s true. We’ve all been there. So, I think it is crap that poor Princess Kate and Prince William had their first pregnancy force outed because of the media. I mean, my God, she can’t sneeze without a thousand photos being taken of it so there was no way that she could quietly and peacefully slip into hospital for a few days of recuperation without the rumor mill working over time churning out tall tales of alien babies and plastic surgery. They had to reveal the pregnancy. The public has stole their special time, the biggest and best secret they will ever share as a couple.
My throat punch goes to the media for outing Princess Kate and Prince William’s pregnancy and to that nasty case of hyperemesis gravidarum because it truly is a bitch to suffer. As for whether or not she is having twins? Who knows. I just wish the Princess and Prince a healthy baby, an uneventful pregnancy and the privacy to enjoy this time together without the scrutiny of the press.
I know you are excited people but everyone deserves to have that special time to enjoy their pregnancy. I know I wouldn’t have wanted people all up in my business the first trimester of my pregnancies; I felt horrible, I looked run over by a truck and I was still trying to process the miracle that was about to change my life forever.
Don’t you agree that Princess Kate deserves to enjoy her first pregnancy without the watchful eye of the press?

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2012/12/06
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
Throat Punch Thursday ~ Trayvon Martin & the Racist Vigilante Edition
Trayvon Martin this one’s for you
This week’s Throat Punch is being given out in honor of Trayvon Martin. As a mother, my heart aches for Trayvon Martin’s parents. As a human, I am outraged. As a minority, I am fighting mad. This week’s Throat Punch is awarded to George Zimmerman the vigilante bigot who thought it was appropriate to shoot a boy in cold blood for the simple fact that the color of his skin was brown. I know that bigots are afraid of anyone different, especially when the packaging is a darker shade or two than their own skin. This is not the first time this has happened nor do I suspect this will be the last.
Trayvon Martin was a Good Kid
Trayvon Martin, from all accounts, was a good kid who happened to come across a not so good adult with a trigger happy finger. I can’t imagine the pain and anger that Trayvon Martin’s parents feel at the death of their son nor do I ever want to know it. Isn’t every parent’s biggest fear that their child is going to come into harms way? A rogue drunken driver, a stray bullet, a crazed assailant, cancer, abduction, stranger danger, choking on a raisin, getting hit by a car, wrecking while texting? There are so many ways that we worry about our children getting into harms way, every day. We don’t expect simply walking home from the store to be a particularly dangerous scenario. Walking home from the store should not be deadly, should it?
What is this world coming to that we can tolerate this sort of behavior? How can we stomach it as a people? Zimmerman says that it was self- defense. Evidence proves otherwise. Just because he was a racist who felt threatened by the color of a boy’s skin is not a legitimate reason for shooting Trayvon Martin dead and robbing his parents of their son forever. There will never be any little Trayvon Martin’s running to his mother’s lap. She will not see her son graduate from school. She will not get to dance the Mother/ son dance at Trayvon’s wedding. She will not get to see the man her son was supposed to become. She will never get to know that man. He will not be there in her old age to hold her hand and comfort her at the end. Now, his parents are left with a giant void in their chest where their heart used to be. The great joy they once knew upon seeing that baby Trayvon Martin be born has been replaced by pain and hatred. Hatred for George Zimmerman.
Nothing can make this right. Apparently, the big debate now is whether or not George Zimmerman used a racial slur when addressing Trayvon Martin. Truly, the fact remains, whether he used a slur or not, that he is a bigot and shot Trayvon Martin in cold blood for no other reason that he felt threatened. Zimmerman was threatened for the simple fact that he had a predisposed notion to feel afraid of black men. This is racism, whether there is a slur attached or not. The sentiment is the same. The result the same. Trayvon Martin is still dead.
Trayvon Martin may you Rest in Peace
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2012/03/22
Throat Punch Thursday~Teen takes Parents to Court and her Baby Gets Stay of Execution
It’s a crazy world when you have to take your parents to court to avoid having a forced abortion. Look, I get where a parent might feel that it is their job to save their child from themselves. We do. I do. But you know the saying, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure and people, there is nothing you can do to force this cure on your child short of tying her down and violating her. Plus, there are abortion alternatives that you can consider and discuss. (more…)
2013/02/21
Mentally Ill Teen, Keith Vidal, Shot & Killed because Officer Had No Time for That
The family of 18-year-old, Keith Vidal, called their local police for help when their son was behaving erratically during a schizophrenic episode last Sunday night. The 18-year-old from Boiling Spring Lake, North Carolina, was first tasered by two police officers and on the ground when shot and killed by a third officer, Bryon Vassey, from the neighboring town of Southport.
According to this emotional video by Keith Vidal’s stepbrother, Mark Ryan Wilsey, Keith was recently diagnosed with Schizophrenia and was coping while dosing was being figured out.
Vidal’s father, Mark Wilsey, called the police Sunday night because his son was armed with an electric, six-inch screwdriver and was threatening his mother. According to the family the two officers had the situation under control, with the 100-pound Keith Vidal on the ground tasered, when Officer Vassey entered the premises and within 60 seconds said, “We don’t have time for this.” Then he shot Keith Vidal in the chest, killing him. I can’t get the disturbing image out of my head of someone putting down a lame dog.
Officer Vassey first said he was ‘defending himself,” only to later say through his lawyer he was defending another officer. How could deadly force be the only option when there are 3 officers and a Taser involved to subdue one skinny teenager?
My heart breaks for this family. Any person who has ever dealt with, loved with or been mentally ill knows that getting the right meds dosage is critical. Sometimes it takes months or even years to find the right dosage. Meds can alter your state of mind sometimes even worse than the mental illness itself.
This kid was 18-years-old and recently diagnosed. Can you imagine what a pill it is to swallow to be told that you have a mental illness and will be medicated for the rest of your life just to be “normal”? I can. When I was first diagnosed with Bipolar 1, I was at a point in my life where I had been ill for years with no help. No diagnosis. I felt irreparably broken. I felt alone and severed from everyone around me. I can’t even describe to you what it feels like to feel so broken. The closest I can compare it to would be like living in quick sand and you are being swallowed whole by the disease but the more you struggle to resist, to survive the deeper you sink and the more likely you are to lose yourself. It is terrifying because you don’t know why this is happening to you. Was it something you did or didn’t do?
When I finally got a diagnosis, I was terrified but relieved. Relieved that there was help to be had and to find that I wasn’t so broken as much as really bent. It was a struggle to get back to “normal”; whatever that is. I’m not sure I really know. Normal is relative, I suppose.
It took months of highs and lows. I was originally misdiagnosed as depressed and given enough anti-depressants to kill a horse, which made me ever increasingly manic. In the end, I was at the brink of psychosis. I saw madness. I felt it. Touched it. Lived it. It was the biggest part of me.
Eventually, anti-depressants were taken down to next to nothing; stabilizers and Ambien entered the picture. Where mania once ran rampant, now zombie like living: walking into walls and all-consuming lethargy had become part of who I was. After a few months, I was finally regulated and began to feel “normal” for the first time in years; maybe ever.
It all seems so cut and dry when you write it out but it’s not. The part I haven’t told you that before my medication dosage was right, I was highly erratic. I was like a ticking time bomb. What was going on inside my head was so distracting that it left me annoyed and irrationally angry with myself and everyone around me. Later, through therapy, I realized that the irritability was directly proportional to my mania. My body and mind were pissed off because no one ever turned the lights off. My body and mind were exhausted and there was no off switch to be had.
I did irrational things just to feel alive because I ALWAYS needed to feel alive; I drove fast, lived fast and never considered consequences. I teetered between feeling invincible and wanting to die. I drank a lot. I know now that I subconsciously did that to shut things off. It’s actually pretty common. I alienated family and friends because I overreacted to everything. Sometime between high school and college graduation, I had spun completely out of control. The insomnia was just fuel to the fire.
I fully accept responsibility for my behavior in those days though, honestly, I had no real control over a lot of it. I never wielded a weapon at my parents but I did throw a friend’s belongings off my balcony and came pretty damn close to tossing her as well during a particularly manic episode. I used to be quite good at pushing people away. I think I was afraid they’d see the real me and know something was “off ”. Even before I knew what it was, I knew something wasn’t right. I hoped and prayed that there was a reason for the behavior.
My whole point for this very long and drawn out story is that if you met me today, you’d know that I’m not the same person I was at 18, 21 or even 25. I am the mother of two, a wife, and even a room mother. I am just like you but maybe I wouldn’t be if someone decided that they had no time for me to get help; to learn to live with my diagnosis. Perhaps, this is the problem with the world, we resign ourselves to believe that those who are mentally ill are dangerous, less than or even worthless. We forget that they are people, just like you and I.Well, more like me than you, I suppose:) My point is that just because someone is mentally ill doesn’t mean they can’t be valuable members of society or good human beings. It only means that they might have a more difficult journey than the rest of us.
Officer Vassey might have been scared and felt threatened because sometimes in the midst of an episode, the person suffering looks scary. The fact remains that if two officers had Keith Vidal tasered on the ground, what possible reason could there have been to shoot him? Unlike me, Keith Vidal is dead and now, will never have the chance to learn to live with his disease; to grow up, to have a family, to be a dad or a husband.
What are your thoughts on this tragic story? What would you do if you were Keith Vidal parents?

2014/01/10
Mommy, I Want Another Baby
As I lay here cramping, a cruel reminder, stifling my tears as my 5-year-old brings up an old topic; one that we try not to discuss but has been lingering around my heart lately; the miscarriage we had last year.
It was this time last year that we conceived our third child. I know that. I’ve thought about it every day since Fat Tuesday but tonight, my 5-year-old asked me a simple question as she lay on my stomach and I read her a bedtime story, ” Mommy is there another baby in your tummy?” (more…)
2013/02/25
Throat Punch Thursday- Escape from Spring Break
I’m fully aware that my Throat Punch Thursday is 3 days late but there were extenuating circumstances – Spring Break. Who name it that anyway? No doubt some father who gets to go off to work for the week. If you are at home with your children during spring break, you realize there is no break about it. It is complete chaos.
So, my girls have been on spring break this week. This means I have been all sorts of discombobulated. They have encroached on my work time and my general routine. I love these two little girls but damn it if the ear bleeding screeches and the whining aren’t about to make me stab myself in the ears with a Q-Tip.
On top of all of that wonderfulness, I have contracted some sort of virus that is taking me down with the force of a giant with a bad attitude.
Sure the week was chalked full of fun: putt-putt, go-karts, repurposing a shed into a club house (Password: Girls RULE!), cleaning my garage in preparation for a garage sale, more cleaning, lots of eating junk and we saw The Croods (which made me cry ) and Oz the Great and Powerful (which made me pray there is another sequel in the works because it was so amazing) and now we finish it off with a bang. Not only have a almost completely lost my voice from this sickness, my back is also on the fritz, so the girls have not been listening (claiming they couldn’t hear me yelling) and its been general chaos and now, I am under the influence of a fever. I cannot even imbibe in wine for fear that my already irritated sinuses will mutiny and take out my entire face.
Tonight, Spring break and I play a game of chicken. Tomorrow we have tickets to Disney on Ice but tonight I have a fever. Let’s see who swerves first. I’m going to see the damn Disney on Ice. I’ve wanted to go since I was a kid and my parents couldn’t afford it. I am taking my girls…even if I have a fever. I will pop some ibuprofen and a muscle relaxer for the spazomatic back and we will be good to go.
I used to love spring break. The thought of having my girls at home with me this year was especially appealing because they are both in school all day but instead, by Monday I was thinking I should have planned some sort of work travel during spring break. They have been completely insane and me being sick has exacerbated the entire situation. I want my mommy but she’s not coming because she doesn’t want what I have so I will pray and rest and keep pushing the fluids and drinking the cold medicine every 3 hours.
How was your spring break? Was it as exciting as mine? I bet not.
2013/04/07
Resolving to Incite the Revolution of 2012
I originally posted Resolving to Incite a Revolution last January. It was a great reminder of things I wanted to do in the upcoming year. I have been working diligently on this revolution for the past 12 months but I thought I could use the reminder to continue on with enthusiasm. Life is too short to be unhappy. Sometimes we just need to be reminded of that fact. This is your wake up call; our reminder that we’ve got to incite a revolution in this world an fight for what we want out of life.
Resolving to incite a revolution
~I am way past the point of making resolutions.After all, what the hell is a resolution anyways, nothing more than an empty promise, a flimsy threat at the most.Nope this year, I am declaring war. I’m inciting a revolution.I am resigning myself to a little shock and awe!
*No MORE Cheating! You heard me. I don’t mean that I’m cheating on the Big Guy, never! I mean cheating on diets, cheating myself out of life, cheating myself short on opportunities, cheating my girls out of my complete attention and devotion.
*Embracing Exhaustion! Oh yeah, I am about to make it my mission to exhaust every single iota of potential that these bones have in them. No more sitting on the sidelines letting life happen to me or waiting for things to be done for me, this broad is grabbing life by the balls and making him my bitch. I am going to work this potential so hard, its not going to know which way is up. As the old cheer goes, “Be aggressive..B*EE* EE Agressive!” I’m about to be the change I want to see in my world!
Resolving to incite a revolution
*Organization, Organization, Location! I am a planner, a scheduler, a write it down on paper and DOER! Life seems to have gotten out of control.I don’t mean a little bit off kilter, I mean it has spun right the hell off its axis.Well, NO MORE! Hey, life! Guess what? I AM IN CHARGE..NOT YOU! So, I’m putting pen to paper ( yes, I’m old school like that sometimes) and I’m making a schedule. I’m waking up earlier, getting more sleep, not rushing through life because I’ve planned accordingly, and ( because I am still a bit reckless) I’m even allowing copious amounts of free time for spontaneity.
*Love Hard, Love often! I am making sure that the Big Guy and the girls know how much I love them and how important they are to me. I’m not referring to telling them, speaking the words. I do this already, several times a day. In fact, I’ve told the girls ( constantly) since birth “Guess what? I have a secret.Want to know what it is?” They used to get all excited, their eyes like saucers and ask”Yes, Mommy. What is it?” My answer, I’d bend down and whisper in their tiny ear ,” I Love you more than anything.” Now, they just give me a sheepish smile and say, “What is it Mommy? Tell me!” But more than saying the words, I want to show them with my thoughts and actions.I want to be present in every moment with these family and friends that I have been blessed to be surrounded by in my life. I want them to know in their heart that when I say “I love you” it means..forever, for always, for good, for bad, for ups, for downs, for skinny, for fat, for Always. When they speak, I want them to know I am listening and that what they say matters to me. No more decorum.I am loving on my littles, the Big Guy, my family and friends with an embarrassing amount of exuberance. I want them to feel it to their core…I love them.
Resolving to incite a revolution
*Prioritize, Perspective, and Present The only way to get it all done, in conjunction with my handy schedule, I have to prioritize what’s really important to me and my family. This depends on my perspective. I am choosing to utilize my own perspective ..finally. I am not considering all the outside factors, aside from my girls. I’m also willfully choosing to see life as ALWAYS half full and at my dispense because, in reality, it is. My only limitations have been those I’ve set upon myself. No more! Last but not least, I’m living in the moment. I’m embracing every stinking moment as it happens. I’m not planning for next year, next week, tomorrow…I’m living in the now..RIGHT NOW,with my girls and the Big Guy. I want to enjoy the small things of my life as they happen, not in 20 years in retrospect as a memory. I want to feel the full effect of my life.
*Forgiveness I am forgiving myself for not being perfect. I am not the perfect wife. I am not the perfect Mom. I am not the perfect friend or daughter.I don’t have the perfect body. I don’t have the perfect house. My temper leaves something to be desired. I over extend myself. I expect too much from myself and others. I fall short, in a lot of ways. But that doesn’t mean that my efforts do not have merit. I am hitting reset for everyone I know. I’m passing out forgiveness like kool aid at a Jonestown party. NO more Mommy guilt, no more fatty McFatty guilt, no more I’m not the perfect wife.My house is disheveled. My kids aren’t perfect.No more, I wish I was Bree Van De Kamp bullshit. From this moment forward, I am going to try my best at every endeavor that I choose to undertake with my priority being excelling at being a good example of a the kind of woman I want my daughters to see me as. I will never be perfect, and that is perfectly acceptable, as long as I am living my life as the best me. *This is the one that I REALLY have to work hard at!”
*Incite a Revolution I’m initiating a change in my way of life. I am actively taking steps to become the person that I want to be.That woman who lives inside of me and has been too afraid for a long time to take a gamble.The woman who, even though I hate to admit this, I have realized has been so afraid of failure that I have let it stave off success. No More! No more excuses. I’m not afraid of failure anymore.If I fall, I will just pick myself up and try, try again!But today, I am inciting a revolution between the version of myself that I’ve let myself get comfortable with and the woman I know I can be. I’m starting by setting fire to excuses and self doubt and I’m marching forward with self confidence.
What have you resolved to incite revolution about in your New Year? How are you going to go about succeeding? Happiest of New Years to each and everyone of you.Thank you so much for being part of the TRUTH about Motherhood community. 2012 is going to bring great things, I know it! Hang on to your hats ladies, it’s going to be battle of epic proportions but everything worth having in this life is worth fighting for. Are you ready to incite your own revolution in 2012?
The Revolution Starts Today
2011/12/31