Today’s Throat Punch came to me via a friend on Twitter and boy is it worthy of a Throat Punch! Have you heard of Spokeo.com? NO? Well, let me tell you a little bit about Spokeo.com…
What is Spokeo?
Spokeo is a people search engine that organizes vast quantities of white-pages listings, social information, and other people-related data from a large variety of public sources. Our mission is to help people find and connect with others, more easily than ever. I AM CALLING BULLSHIT! Sure it sounds all innocuous and everything but is it? Is it really? Think about what its offering…all of YOUR business fro anybody else to have access to. Scary shit!
Translation:Stalkers Strangers can find out all of your very private information at the push of a button. Can anyone say BIG BROTHER? Sure, this would be effing amazing to find that last missing link that you dated when you were fourteen and the dumb sonofabitch has STILL not gotten a Facebook.Really? How the hell are we supposed to see how fat he has gotten, How bald he looks.Has this man no good sense to oblige us in our one request? Then there are the losers who hate you in the world, want you in the world, want to smell and taste you in the world…or worse, want to be you in the world….and they can be because Spokeo.com makes it that easy!
This has certainly got to be some sort of infringement on our constitutional right to privacy.I don’t want my kids friend’s weird dad knowing where I live and being able to get an actual bird-eye view of my house.VERY creepy. Spokeo.Com You most certainly deserve the Chuck Norris roundhouse kick with a side of monkey toes to strike you blind.Followed by my own special TruthfulMommy blend of PMS rage,palm to the gullet, shin kick and kick in the ass. Spokeo, simply stated, you suck!! Why not try updating info. Mine is all off. So not only are you being spamming assholes, aiding and abetting criminals and stalkers, you are also guilty of having a sub par project.I believe the term is POS!
NO Soup for you!
Oh yeah, I almost forgot ( well, technically I did..twice) THROAT PUNCH THURSDAY celebrated it’s 1 year anniversary of being in existence. WootWOot! I’m a little concerned that the idea came to me the week between my wedding anniversary and my babies birthday..lol what does that say about me?? HAPPY THROAT PUNCH THURSDAY!!!!!
As a feminist mom of teenage girls, this is the post that lives in my mind at all times. As a daughter and granddaughter of a mother and grandmother who have always been marginalized by what lies between her legs, I am offended. As a woman who has been judged, juried and punished for being feminine and curvy, I am livid. As a woman who has been sexually harassed and abused by men and afraid for as long as I can remember, I am done. As a woman who thinks and feels and sees and exists, I am outraged. This is my open letter to men on misogyny, abortion, sex and equality
For as long as I can remember, I have walked through the world feeling in danger. In danger of being touched, groped, raped and even assaulted by men. Worse still, I have learned to survive. To make myself small and quiet when I needed to which if you know me, you know is not me. I am not alone.
When strange men on trains, on planes, in clubs, at school, at church, online, at frat parties, walking home from school, playing at a friend’s house, while shopping, while eating, while working, breastfeeding, playing at the park with my children, while living my life and even while sleeping have forced their crude remarks, wandering hands and themselves upon me, I had to learn to escape with the least amount of damage; not unscathed because, as any woman knows, that is impossible. So I made a decision, a long time ago, I refused to raise my daughters to make themselves small and I myself will never again make myself small…because they (my daughters) are watching.
Misogyny
I refuse to raise my daughters to hunch their shoulders, hide their bodies in baggy clothes, feel shame for being attractive or saying no. Not today misogyny. I would not raise them to consider anyone other than themselves when getting dressed. No one else’s opinion on what they wear, their size, shape, hair color, makeup or sexual prowess is any of their business. I taught my girls that they are equal to men and, let’s be honest, in some ways, they’re better. Most importantly, I raised them to respect themselves and their own thoughts and opinions over anyone else’s. That being said, they were taught that everyone else is entitled to their opinions about life but those opinions have no effect on our lives.
My girls know what consent is. I taught them to say no loudly and habitually when they want to. Their body is their body, not mine, not yours and not some random dude who can’t keep his toxic masculinity and hormones in check, not even their husband or boyfriend. Believe me, toxic masculinity comes in more forms than just a rapist in a dark alley or skeevey dudes at the clubs, these men can also be your boss, your priest, your friend, the old man down the road, the boy next door and the guy who’s supposed to protect and serve your community.
I’ve fought the school on dress codes and refuse to have my daughters wear baggy clothes just because it’s too distracting to the boys. Why aren’t clothes that fit enough? Sorry, breasts and butts happen. We all have them.
I’ve fought public opinion on my daughters wearing bikinis when they were toddlers because someone had the audacity to say I was sexualizing my toddlers. No, you pervert are the one sexualizing a child. That’s a “you” problem. I was simply buying a suit that was comfortable for my tall child. Covering her belly button is not more important than preventing discomfort or causing infections. As teenagers, I stand by that statement. What women are wearing is not a concern for men. If it offends you or overstimulates you, overt your fucking eyes. Stop policing us. We don’t police you. Stay in your lane.
Sex
I’ve taught my daughters that sex is beautiful when they are mature enough to handle all that comes with it. We’ve talked about sex since they started asking. It’s not dirty or bad. They are not naughty for being curious. I don’t preach abstinence. I talk about respecting their bodies, themselves, their partners and waiting until they are ready.
I tell them that sex does not equal love. Sex is sex and someone can love having sex with you and not love you at all. I’ve taught them about birth control and responsibility, taking it themselves and demanding it of their partners. Sex with someone you love is beautiful and sex with yourself is cathartic. We don’t slut-shame so I’ve even taught them that we don’t judge and criticize other people’s sexual choices.
Abortion
I am pro-choice and I’ve raised my girls to know why. It’s not that I am pro-abortion or that I’ve had or would’ve ever chosen to have one. It is that I respect women and their lives and it is every single human being’s right to be in control of what happens to their own body. You can argue that you are pro-life because you believe every single life is precious but if that’s your reasoning, what about the life of the girl or woman who finds herself pregnant (for whatever reason, the reason is irrelevant…women should not have to qualify the choices they make for their own bodies to anyone else, especially men) and is not capable of raising it, taking care of it, wanting or loving and providing for it in the way that she wants at that time?
If you are pro-life only for an unborn fetus, then you are not concerned with life (because you have disregarded the woman’s) you are concerned with moral superiority and inflicting your beliefs on others. It’s a power struggle not a pro-life issue. If abortion morally offends you, simply do not have an abortion. Period. While we’re on the subject, can all the politicians please GTFO of our uteruses?
Whatever your belief is, the consequences rest with the woman having the abortion and it’s between her and her God. She will have to live with that choice forever. There is no way around that. If you think the decision to have an abortion is one a woman takes lightly, you’ve never actually asked a woman who has to make that choice. Her decision has no immediate or direct effect on your life. It’s not your business to decide and making abortion illegal will not stop abortions, it will only stop safe abortions which means they will put women’s lives and their future reproductive health in jeopardy.
Equality
My girls are free to make their own choice on which side they choose to support because I respect them, their intelligence and their right to choose. If my daughters ever find themselves unexpectedly pregnant, I will do what any parent should do, I will counsel, love and support them in whatever decision they make for themselves. But at the same time, it’s my responsibility, as a parent, to teach them about respecting their bodies, loving themselves, pregnancy prevention, sexual safety and knowing the difference between love and sex.
Don’t misunderstand, I am not promoting teen sex, promiscuity, unplanned pregnancy or abortion. I am simply saying that these things happen and, in case no one was paying attention, it takes a man and a woman to get pregnant but only the girl or woman is left with the immediate responsibility of raising, caring for and providing for the child because we are the ones who carry it. Men can walk away and pretend it didn’t happen and some do. Men are not the ones paying for the consequences of one night for the rest of their lives, women are.
So until men can be held equally accountable for women’s reproduction, they should have no say in what we do, how we behave or what we choose to do or not do with our own bodies. Women are not property, nor inanimate objects, we are not born to provide care and pleasure for men…we are simply born to live and pursue our own happiness, just like every man.
It’s enraging enough that we are not given equal pay, equal voice or equal respect or rights as human beings. The world teaches little girls that doing anything like a girl is bad, weak and less than. It teaches girls to be quiet, be amiable, smile more and accept the places they’ve given us. Little girls need to be encouraged and empowered to use their voices, stand up and be everything they dream of being without the worry of being oppressed and reduced to their sexuality. Our girls are more. We are more.
This is not about me bashing men. This is me protecting and standing up for my daughters and every other child. These things I am teaching my daughters; need to be taught to our sons as well. Things will never change until we all work together to change the way things are; we have to stop accepting misogyny (in all its forms) as just the way it is. I don’t want my girls to feel scared and afraid of men and boys and I don’t think your boys want my girls to feel that way either. It starts now by refusing to let one more girl make herself feel small and quiet just to feel safe living with girl parts in the world.
There are a lot of parenting misconceptions out there. Those parenting books don’t tell you the truth about what it’s really like to parent a living, breathing child. I think they write about parenting in theory. One of the biggest misconception is that children are supposed to meat some kind of quality standard, like a piece of USDA regulated meat. It’s not true. They are people, not products. If I hear one more new mom tell me what an asshole her toddler is I just might throw up. Look, I have compassion. I really do. I totally thought that my toddlers were both assholes of epic proportions and then they got a little older.
Thinking your toddler is an asshole is the same thing as thinking you are in love when you are 15. You really believe you are but you only think you are because you don’t know what they hell you are talking about. You haven’t experienced the real thing yet. The same way in high school you think everything is so important but really it is the most inconsequential shit that will ever happen to you.
Toddlers are not assholes this is just one of many parenting misconceptions.
Besides, takes one to know one, right? If you really want to know what an asshole is try having a conversation with an eye rolling tween. There is nothing (as of yet) that is more egregious in parenthood than having a full-grown person talk back to you, roll their eyes and walk away.
The worst part is that my “tween” might look like a big girl but she still has this tiny baby voice and still wants hugs and cuddles but when she’s done with you, she’s done with you. It’s all eye rolls and stomping and looks that say without words, “ You are the stupidest person alive!”, we really should renaming the “tween” years, the “cat” years.
I remember the toddler years. I remember being told, “ I hate you mommy” (I have a feeling that one might be making a come back.) I remember full on tantrums in the middle of the grocery store. I remember wanting to cry because my 2 and 4-year-olds were breaking me and crushing my soul. I had no sleep, the sleep I was getting was filled with kicks to the face and head butts and all day long I was to dance monkey dance. I was the walking dead. I remember their favorite word was, “NO!” The saving grace for them was that they were so damn cute and I just forgave them of all the terrible shit they did to me. And believe me, terrible twos is a myth it’s the threes and fours that you really have to watch out for.
But even with all of that, I remember the random hugs and kisses and all the, “I love you mommy” for no reason at all. I remember the nightly game of, “I love you more.” I remember tiny arms reaching for me like I was salvation and soft cuddles that made my heart explode. I remember all of that. I never forget that.
My theory is this, kids are born so ugly that they are cute and we have so much love for them that it almost kills us. The thought of losing them is crushing and losing one can nearly kill you, at the very least makes you wish you were dead. Then they become toddlers and they do become little terrorist assholes but they are now so cute and have those cute voices and say the sweetest things that we forgive them all their transgressions.
As they enter preschool and elementary school, we love them so much it is almost unbearable to let them leave us for the day. The letting go is awful. We sulk and cry and then we enjoy every moment we get with them after school, watching them blossom into amazing, smart, funny little people. Sure there is whining, interrupting, sibling squabbling and for some reason they never want to go to bed and use more toilet paper than is humanly possible but overall they are awesome.
Then they hit the tween years and they become eye rolling, gum popping, Justice wearing, whining, 1-D loving part-time strangers. Some days they are your baby and the others, they are some sort of wildebeest in designer clothing. One minute they want to tell you everything and the next, they eye roll you to mind your own damn business. Still, I enjoy the moments when we have real conversations and I love that she is at an age where she wants to dress and be like me. Not like an adult but actually coordinate with her mom. It makes my heart all squishy. If only she knew this power she has over me. Shhh, let’s keep that under wraps.
Then, they become teens. Hormones are out of control and they quite frankly are nowhere as cute as they were in the early years. Bad skin, awkwardness and bad attitudes prevail. You are basically financing them but are not entitled to any interaction (that costs extra, my friends). It’s like trying to get the girlfriend experience from a hooker, all that extra money but still, no fucking kissing on the lips. None of it’s real. They hate you and, truth be told, you don’t particularly like them either. You still love them but they are not your favorite people.
Then sometime around senior year, they turn back into normal human beings. They’ve finally got the hang of those damn hormones and they’ve probably had a crisis or two enough to know that you are not going anywhere but now, they are leaving you. My theory is that the only reason moms and dads don’t drop dead on the spot the minute their “babies” go away to college is because of all the growing pains we experience when they are tweens and teens. The pain is necessary to lessen he blow when they have to leave us.
This is my theory and I’m sticking to it and every time my tween rolls her eyes at me, I feign irritation but inside, I’m thanking her for making it easier to let her go in the end. For now, I will take every single kiss, cuddle and eye roll and cherish it because one day she might be across the world and I’ll be longing for the days when I could see her face and when she say, “ I love you,” I’ll always know that I love her more.
What was 1 of your biggest parenting misconceptions?
I don’t usually complain about my kid’s school. In fact, I mostly love their school. If you have children in a parochial school you already know this but kids who attend parochial just seem to consider consequences of actions more than the average kid. Our children’s education is based on a foundation of charity, family and faith. Kindness, compassion and respect for others is reinforced in the classroom from the beginning. I’m thrilled to see the lessons we teach at home being reinforced at school. These are good kids. This is why I work to pay tuition. For us it is worth it. So you can imagine my shock and dismay when I hear of a child behaving in a way counterintuitive to everything they are taught. What’s worse is when the teacher ignores or misses it.
What’s not worth it is to expect all this and then realize that this year, you got the teacher who is not invested and never accessible unless you pop into the classroom and even then there is a very good chance then that you’ll be cutoff midsentence and asked to leave. True story. I am used to teachers who, if call or email about my child, respond. I am used to teachers who pay attention to what is going on in the classroom and handle it.
For the past 3 years, my oldest has been victim to some bullying and every year, I contacted the teacher and he or she handled it. We worked together and it all ended up fine without too much emotional scarring but it took all parties involved to be invested. This year, one of her previous bullies is in her class again. It’s a very uncomfortable situation.
Yesterday at pick up, my 8-year old got in the car and immediately started telling me about her day at school and then started crying telling me that her teacher thought she was bullying a little boy and she swears she didn’t do it. When she tried to explain, the teacher called her a bully. You see the same little mean girl who bullied her in 1st grade is in my daughter’s class again this year and this time she has a new victim, a little boy in the classroom who sits next to my daughter. The little girl wrote a note of insults about the boy and put 4 girl’s names next to them. Girls she also doesn’t like. Then she showed the little boy. Then she gave it to my daughter. My daughter knows that we have a zero bullying tolerance. She told the girl to erase her name and when the girl wouldn’t, my daughter went to the teacher, only to be shushed and told to sit down. A few minutes later the little girl threw the paper at my daughter and the teacher saw it mid-flight and assumed the girls were passing notes and when she saw what the note said she moved the girls apart and then told all five girls (the child who wrote all of it and the other 4 girls names who she had put on the sheet (as far as I am concerned victims too) that she will be bringing up the “bullying” incident at Friday’s parent teacher conferences.
Now this all comes after a week of my trying to get in contact with the teacher via email about the Halloween party I’m organizing, with NO ANSWER to any of my emails. This also comes after she almost made my child wet her pants because she wouldn’t allow her to use the restroom (I have since told my child that if she needs to go..go and I will deal with the consequences rather than her piss her pants and deal with the ridicule). My daughter is 8, I think she knows if she really has to piss. So this teacher has been, in my opinion, half-assing a lot of things this year.
I have a couple problems with the whole “bullying” incident because 1) if the teacher would have taken a second to just listen to my daughter when she tried to give her the note in the first place and not shushed her maybe the little boy would never had gotten the chance to see it and she would have known who was doing what. 2) If she paid attention to my daughter in class at all, she would know that doing something like this is not in her nature especially since she has been bullied herself. 3) When I called her to discuss the incident (5 minutes after pick up) she was gone and never called me back this morning. I think if you are going to be throwing around the word “bullying” and label my child you should at least answer the phone message of a concerned parent who wants to know what’s going on because if my daughter is not the perpetrator she shouldn’t be labeled and punished and if she is then she should be punished by her father and I.
She swears she never said the things written on the note after a long and thorough discussion, I believe her. I still told her that she needs to apologize to the little boy; to which she said she already had when he first saw it. My husband has told her to show a little extra kindness to the child who was insulted because he’s probably feeling pretty down. I just want to get to the bottom of all of this so we can take the proper steps to stop this kind of shit from happening to our children. If I were that little boy’s mom, I’d be livid. Things like this can stick with you forever.
I need your advice. As a parent, what would you do?
Dear Bigot Mom why are you so opposed to the idea of transgender students being treated equal? I’ve never understood how adults can be mean or uncaring to children but apparently and ironically, bigotry does not discriminate. It’s an equal opportunity hater, even of small children.
Administrators in Lincoln, Nebraska have begun talking to staff about transgender issues so they can better help transgender students; all students. Some parents are worried the district is promoting an “agenda”; a political one.
“The agenda we’re promoting is to help all kids succeed,” said Brenda Leggiardo, LPS coordinator of social workers and counselors. “We have kids who come to us with a whole variety of circumstances, and we need to equitably serve all kids.”
But some people don’t see it that way, Rachel Terry, a parent in the Lincoln Public Schools District, has taken it upon herself to send emails to the other parents saying LPS is promoting a “gender inclusiveness” agenda and asking them to join her at the Oct. 14 school board meeting. HMMMMM? So, am I to assume that she is anti- gender inclusiveness? Is she really asking parents to join her at a school board meeting today to protest EQUALITY?? Bigotry much??? Life is hard enough for anyone who isn’t a healthy, heterosexual Caucasian male. Why make it harder?
“By sidelining academic teacher training and replacing it with social re-engineering, the LPS administration has placed a higher priority on social reformation than on education,” Terry says in a copy of an “introductory speech” prepared for school board members.
As a school board member myself, not in the LPS district, just let me start by saying we welcome any and all concerns to be brought up at board meetings (no matter how ridiculous they may be) so she is perfectly within her rights to present this at the meeting. However, the only agenda that I see is her fear of gender-inclusiveness. What is she afraid of? It’s not contagious?
Surely, she must realize that if a child is bullied or feels like an outcast for being different, their education will suffer. Just because gender is not an issue for her children, it is for some children. Where is her compassion for these children who need a little understanding? I wonder if she has a low threshold of tolerance for those pesky special needs children too?
Her email to other parents included three handouts she said had been provided to LPS staff, including one titled “12 easy steps on the way to gender inclusiveness” that, among other things, advised avoiding “gendered” expressions such as “boys and girls.”
The handout suggests opting for more specific terms such as “calling all readers” or “hey, campers.”
Okay, I am not the parent of a transgendered, gay, bisexual or lesbian child (well, not that I know of, my girls are only 7 and 9 so who knows who they might become and no matter who they choose to love I will love them and want them to be treated equal to every other human being) so I’m not sure how parents of these children feel about using gender non-specific terms? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this subject. I suppose we could all just be called humans or by our own names and that would work.
I do however have a problem with having the terms boys and girls stricken from my vocabulary because to me it feels like taking shit too far. Just like not being able to say Merry Christmas or God bless you when someone sneezes. I feel like I don’t get offended if someone says Happy Kwanza or Happy Hanukkah. I take it as a term of celebration and good will and I am thankful. I get the underlying “meaning” of it. It’s not something I take so literally that it keeps me up at night pondering my existence or my relationship with my own faith. If someone blesses me, I am not offended. I am thankful because, let’s be honest, someone wishing you well is always better than telling you to go somewhere and die or just not giving a damn at all.
I can’t pretend to know how children who are transgendered feel about being called boy or girl. My personal thought would be that, on the inside, they feel like either a boy or a girl because that’s always been the choices we’ve had. I don’t think the problem is with the terms, I think it’s with the labeling. Why not use “boys and girls” when talking to a group and let the child decide which one applies to them without making a fuss about it.
Student Services Director Russ Uhing said the goal of the administrative session was to help school leaders better understand the issues facing students so they can be welcoming to all students and make them feel comfortable. The handouts, provided by a staff member on a district equity team, were meant only for teachers, not for students or parents. Which leads me to believe that there is a bigot mole on the inside because how else did Mrs. Terry get herands on the handouts to use them against LPS?
These were not meant as rules staff had to follow, but guidelines for how teachers could make students feel more comfortable. It also stresses the impact words can have on others which is particularly important for gay, lesbian and transgender students who are at a higher risk of being bullied, having mental health issues and committing suicide.
I think that LPS is doing a great job trying to change the focus of the conversation. They are trying to be the change they want to see in the world. I commend them. I don’t agree with the stop usage of the terms” boys” and “girls” but I think their hearts are in the right place. As for Rachel Terry, why not try being part of the solution instead of part of the problem. Ponder this, like I teach my children, on the inside we are all the same; humans. Why should a label, a color, whatever our outside looks like define us? Shouldn’t we be commending these children for having the bravery to tell the world who they are? They are living out loud and happy with who they are. Isn’t that enough?
In her email and draft speech, Terry said using taxpayer dollars to promote “the deconstruction of fundamental family and religious values” is a serious breach of trust. Wow! I never understand how a true Christian can speak of religious values out one side of their face and spew hatred and bigotry out of the other side. What happened to tolerance and love? Does Westboro Baptist have a school? Maybe Rachel Terry would feel more comfortable enrolling her children there.
What do you think of Rachel Terry’s opinion that transgender students don’t need equality and that gender-inclusiveness is a waste of taxpayer money?
Hi! I’m Deborah Cruz but my friends call me, Debi. I tell the TRUTH about Motherhood and now, I’ve even got the skinny on the teens. I’m a freckled Mexican from Chicago; first generation Mexican American, the oldest daughter of six children to a Mexican father and a southern mother. I’m the bicultural Marcia Brady, only my parents are Catholic so we share biological parents.
I spoke differently because of the accents I grew up hearing. My brain rapid fires words with no filter. Being teased for my pressured speech led me to embrace the written word. It’s how I process everything.This is where my love of words and languages began. When I write, there is no confusion about what I’m saying. I tell you the truth, all of it, the good, the bad, the ugly and the funny.
My unique language situation at home, led me to speak four languages; English, Spanish, French and Italian. I did before becoming a mom. Now, I’m fluent in baby, gibberish and currently, I’m mastering the art of tween and teen speak. I can still enjoy foreign films with no subtitles but that’s about it.
I spent my childhood traveling to Mexico. This is where my love of travel was born. My dad was adamant that we immerse ourselves in the culture. We did and I’m grateful that he did this for us. I do the same for my girls. Now, we travel as much as possible together as a family. Nothing compares to seeing the world through the eyes of your children and teens.
Life has thrown me a lot of obstacles from the beginning but I’m grateful for those struggles because they’ve truly made me stronger. It’s made me grateful for where I am because I know where I’ve been. Where there is a will, there is always a way. My parents taught me this.
About Our Family
By fate, I ended up in the wrong place at the right time (Purdue University) and met the 6’5″ man who is everything I never knew I always wanted. He proposed after not quite four months of dating, thanks to a little help from Salma Hayek. Fools Rush In inspired the Big Guy to propose.
We graduated college, got married, waited five years, went to New Orleans and got pregnant on street pizza. Best night of our lives. Then we grew up… sort of. Or maybe we just created our own little fun group of people to hang with. They say where there are no doors, create windows. Well, we had the same idea with humans.
We’ve currently been married for ever. Not saying we’re special, we just work hard to grow together instead of apart. It’s something we’ve actively done every day for the past 20 years. Obviously, I was a child bride. We’re now the proud parents of two daughters, Bella just turned 14 and Gabi is 11-years-old.
When I started this blog, Bella was 3 and Gabi was 1-years-old. My girls have grown up on the blog. If you’ve read the blog for a while you’ll remember them as the 2 ballerina toddlers who liked to paint their faces with fire engine red Chanel lipstick and get pearls stuck up their noses. If you are new to The TRUTH, they are the two gorgeous models featured in fashion posts on my Instagram page. They are good girls with big brains, big smiles, and big hearts. Oh yeah, and eye rolls that will make your head spin and your abuelita raise up outta her grave with a chancla in hand.
We are officially Walt Disney World addicts. My first pixie dusted trip was on our honeymoon. It took some convincing on the Big Guy’s part. However, when the only thing a man asks for at his wedding is to walk in to the Star Wars theme and to honeymoon at Disney World, you’ve got to at least consider it. It was 5-star magical and concierge level all the way. Our Disney World honeymoon convinced me that it could be as romantic as walking hand in hand in Europe. We’ve gone 20 more times in the past 20 years.We even brought the kids a few times. You can bet we’re going back this year to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
Over the years the TRUTH has evolved from just a little baby book full of mommyisms and how to survive the early years to us being on the brink of raising young ladies. I can tell you how to change a diaper, co-sleep, survive kindergarten drop off and discuss sex and guide your daughter through the murky waters of male attention. We’re only just beginning, and I don’t want to jinx it, but honestly, I love the tween and teen years.
Every phase, I think I can’t love being a mom any more but then we get to the next stage and I fall in love with my girls all over again. Hold the phone, this is all true but that’s not to say my girls aren’t bat sh*t crazy some days. Teenage hormones are no joke. Currently, I’m just trying to raise good human beings and I think I’m doing a pretty good job.
There’s a little bit of everything here; parenting from conception to the teen years, travel, politics, entertainment, delicious recipes, home decor and DIY renovations, tech and a little fashion and lots of sharing of all the things I love. Disney and Broadway are my jams. Also, this is the year of positivity so I’m getting healthy and sharing that journey.
That’s us in a nutshell. I’m a word nerd with a Ricky Ricardo laugh. The Big Guy is a tech savvy savant with a sexy brain who helps me out on this blog. The girls are the reason for my smiles, my happy heart, my gray hairs, the holes in my closet and my checkbook. They are my everything. They’re following in my footsteps and have their own website The Cool Girl Society where they hope to inspire all girls to be themselves and find the special within.
Our favorite thing to do is be together; laughing, trying new foods, experiencing new cultures and exploring the world. For us, family is everything and everything is better together.
About How I Work with Brands
I’ve been a storyteller since I could write. My imagination always seemed to find its way to paper. For the past decade, I’ve been digitally storytelling on The TRUTH about Motherhood and on several other well-known parenting publications such as Parenting, Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, Cafe Mom Media, LatinaMom.Me and several others. Whether it’s telling the story of how your product has touched our family through a blog post, or sharing that story through photos and video, my goal is to tell an authentic and relatable story to my audience about your brand. I’ve built a relationship of trust with my readers and no amount of money is worth sullying that bond. I am very selective about who I partner myself with. If I wouldn’t use your product in my own home, I refuse to tell the men and women who read this blog to do so in theirs. If you think your brand may be a good fit for me and/or my family, please reach out to me via email and I’ll send along my media kit and rates if I think it would be a mutually beneficial partnership.
The world is freaking out because the U.S. government has shutdown. But haven’t we known for some time that our government has become a petulant child and it was only a matter of time before they threw a fucking tantrum in the middle of the grocery store? That’s what this is. While we are all busy paying attention to this tantrum, more important things are going unnoticed and ignored but that is not my BIG concern today. I’ve got my own shit to obsess about. You know, mom shit that wouldn’t matter to anyone else in the world but it sticks in our crawl and drives us insane? Yeah, that!
A few weeks ago my daughters auditioned for the Nutcracker and I am happy to report have both been cast in this year’s production. Bella will be an ethereal angel and Gabs will be a sweet little parrot. Both are great parts in the second act. Both girls are excited. They’re ecstatic. Except for this one thing that is literally keeping me awake at night.
This will be Bella’s 4th year in the production and Gabi’s first. Gabi is thrilled to be a parrot because her favorite part of the Nutcracker is the Arabian coffee dance. She is over the moon, which is why writing this post makes me feel like a complete asshole. There will be whining because this is my safe place. Please don’t judge and if whining will make you think less of me, run away now. You’ve been warned.
I scanned the cast sheets and I saw my daughters’ parts. Thrilled! I know if you are not a parent of a child who plays a competitive sport, cheers or dances, right about now you are thinking, “Get a life, lady!” But if you are a parent like me, you understand that our child’s success, to see their little faces light up, is magical. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst with pride.
I get nervous and sick when they audition and I am over the moon for them when they achieve something they worked for. Only when my eyes neared the top of the page, there it was, in black and white… Almond Cast. Which is like being 1st runner up. Peanut cast is the opening night cast. Every year for the past 3 years my daughter has been a Peanut. Not this year.
Why should I care? I probably shouldn’t but maybe it’s the PMS or turning 41 or the dreary days we’ve been having but my brain won’t stop obsessing over this damn nut. My girls are thrilled. I fake it. I hate faking it. Never letting on what’s really going on in this box of crazy, I call my mind. But, inside, I am screaming What.the.fuck? Why God, why?
Here are the facts: my daughters have an extra year of dance on all the dancers at their level because they started at 3 instead of 4. My girls are dedicated and disciplined. They take the recommended amount of classes and I have the outrageous tuition to prove it. We are involved and volunteer backstage. All of our family comes in town to see the production. Every year, we’re peanut cast and this year…fucking Almonds. It’s like getting chosen last in dodge ball. I mean it’s not like something has happened to suddenly make my kids suck from last year. Luckily, my girls don’t know the difference and I will never tell them.
I’m keeping the mommy crazy in check. But I want to know why? I know the answer that they will give me; the casts are the same; apples and oranges. But this isn’t my first Nutcracker and we all know, it is unspoken, but the peanut cast is opening night and last curtain not the almonds. It’s like bizarro world, Jerry.
The girls will dance their parts and never know that 2013 was the year that their mom nearly went bat shit crazy over a cast list. We will still volunteer backstage and our family will still come to see the girls because I’m not telling anyone the difference between the fucking almond and peanut. And on their opening night, I will sit still in my seat next to my husband as our babies take the stage holding back the tears. Fucking pride always makes me bawl like a baby. When they are done, I will love them and praise them just like I would if they were in the peanut cast because no matter what cast they are in, they will have earned their part, rehearsed for months and taken the stage in front of hundreds of people. That is worth praising.
Tell me that I am not crazy. Tell me that I am not becoming a fucking bat shit crazy dance mom. Tell me that you have felt this sort of feeling before. I just want my girls to be the best at whatever they do but as long as they are happy, I will smile and pretend to be as well because when it really comes down to it, as long as they are happy, I am happy.
Bat shit crazy, signing off.
P.S. Don’t think the fact that I am acting like a petulant child is lost on me. I see the irony, only I don’t care. I’m entitled to my tantrum just as much as the U.S. government is, right?
Will we ever feel safe again sending our kids off to school in the wake of the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre? Adam Lanza’s assault on our nation’s children has left many of us feeling the way we did post 9/11, defeated, vulnerable and afraid. But this is much worse because this brutal attack was carried out against the most innocent of us all, small children. Victims who were small children just like my daughters who are 5 and 7.
Sandy Hook Elementary is what my nightmares are made of. What every mother’s nightmares are made of really. This morning, it was all I could do to get my girls dressed and take them to school. I wanted to keep them home, safe, with me. I got them dressed. I lingered a little longer than normal while brushing their hair. I sat with them at breakfast instead of scurrying around trying to tidy up the house. I walked them into school and to their class rooms where I hugged them and kissed them until I had to let go. I told them I loved them and then I walked back to my car with a heavy heart. I drove home, I walked through the door and I sobbed. I am afraid.
What happened at Sandy Hook Elementary can happen anywhere.
We spoke to our girls about what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary because we knew they would hear about it at school.My girls are only 5 and 7 and I shouldn’t be having to have this conversation but when crazy people armed with guns can walk into a school and start shooting, I would be failing my children if I did not prepare them; have a contingency plan in place for such an event. What kind of world do we live in that we need to have a contingency plan for what to do if a crazed gunman comes into our children’s school? Has the world gone mad?
How will any of us ever feel safe again? Something has got to change.Adam Lanza was a man with mental illness who had much too easy access to guns. I’m hearing people say that the right to bear guns is a fundamental right. They are saying the issue is mental illness not gun control. Mental illness played a part in the Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre, that is for certain but placing blame on just the mental illness serves no purpose but to further stigmatize those afflicted. The issue is that it is too easy for people to access guns. The world is flooded with weapons. Guns are used for one purpose; to kill.People may make the choice to kill someone, but the gun is the method of destruction. Take away the gun and it gets a hell of a lot harder to kill someone.
A gun allows cowards the luxury of standing back and detaching themselves from the heinous crimes they commit. Discharging a gun is less personal than using a weapon that forces a perpetrator to be within a closer proximity to their victim, making it more personal. A semi-automatic is certainly going to make it easier and less stressful to murder small children. I hardly could believe that Adam Lanza, a coward who killed himself instead of facing the effects of what he did, would have been able to kill 27 people had, especially children, had he needed to look into their eyes and see their fear and hear them beg for mercy in their tiny voices.
I will never feel safe again, every time I watch my children walk away in the rear-view mirror, I will be wondering if that will be last time.
Will You ever feel safe again after what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary?
We all know that I am all about the truth but occasionally I’ve had to stretch the truth a scoatch to bend the little ones to my Mommy will, in the name of the greater good, of course. Have you ever had to do this? If so, you may identify with the Best White Lies I EVER told my Girls.
I told my girls that if they didn’t eat their asparagus, their hair would all fall out. It would start with small bald spots; like a dog with mange. (This came at a time when I actually had a small bald spot in my own hair. Timing is everything.)
Elves are real and they are Santa’s henchmen. They teleport back to the North Pole each night during the Christmas season to report indiscretions perpetrated by naughty kids. They are eager to break some kneecaps but Santa is usually pretty forgiving. (To make the story believable, you must move said elves around nightly and they must appear in unexpected spots i.e. the toilet, the fridge, the tub, school backpack, etc.)
Once when the door burst open to the “conjugalorium” (Child’s unoccupied bedroom because we have two co-sleepers and are forced to get inventive with our “adult” time), we told our 3 year old “Daddy was telling Mommy a secret, that’s why we were so close”.
While driving back from my Moms house in Chicago, we passed a refinery spouting billowing puffs of pollution. My then 4 year old asked “Mommy is that a cloud factory where all the clouds of the world are made?” I said, “Yes, yes it is” How could I not?
If you stay in the bathtub too long, you will shrivel up and turn into a raisin. Their eyes both turned into saucers, I could see fear and disbelief. I had to seal the deal, “And then people will eat you in their oatmeal!” They both promptly exited the tub and have not stayed for prolonged periods in the tub, since. They are also no longer interested in raisins in any way, shape or form.
Bambi is a narcoleptic. Recently, my girls had their first ever experience with road kill, a beautiful, freshly deceased deer. The deer was lying at the side of the road, looking very peaceful and not moving. My 3 year old, with tears in her eyes, asked what the dear was doing. I told her the dear had narcolepsy. (P.S. This does not work if you see a random deer leg on the side of the road!)
The Prayer Closet. A friend once told me that I needed to get myself a “Prayer” closet. My interest was piqued so I asked, “What’s a “prayer” closet?” Apparently, it is a walk-in closet that you can go to have marital relations. OK, but why the name, you ask. So did I. It’s called a prayer closet because once when she was in the closet calling out “Oh GOD!” She walked out to be greeted by her small child asking, “Mommy, what were you doing in there?” Her answer, “Honey, Mommy was praying. It’s Mommy and Daddy’s prayer closet.” The closet has since been soundproofed.
The Boogie Man. I made the fatal mistake of using the word “BOOGIE MAN”. Previous to this, I have never used the concept with the girls. Nonetheless, it slipped out. My 3 year old heard it. “Mommy, what’s a Boogie Man?” This is where I went brain damaged. “It’s just a little fairy who comes out at night, if you don’t behave, and sucks the boogies out of your nose.” Why I thought this was less traumatic than the real story, I’ll never know.
I told my girls, on New Years Eve, that their sparkling cider was actually champagne. I had them so convinced that my 5 year old had 2 glasses and swore she was drunk. Lightweight.
When my daughter was 3 she was extremely afraid of chickens and lemurs. Don’t ask. Let’s just say Julian, from Madagascar, is persona non grata in our house. She is absolutely terrified. After many nights of her jumping out of bed because she swore chickens or lemurs were under her bed, I took a canister of Febreeze and transformed it into Chicken/Lemur spray. I went so far as to cover up the logo, wrote Chicken/Lemur Spray on the label with the words “Kills Chickens/Lemurs Dead!” complete with chicken skull and crossbones. Then, in Catholic priest fashion, I blessed the room and sprayed the entire room down. Then she slept. That was 2 years ago. Occasionally, she still has me spray the room down. Just to be safe.
I’d love to hear any white lies that you’ve had to tell your kids to get them to do what was best for them. How inventive have you had to get in the name of healthy food and a good night’s sleep?
*This is a piece written by me that was originally published on Momversation.com on January 2011.
Continuing on with the celebration of the 2nd anniversary of The TRUTH about Motherhood, I am excited to introduce you all to today’s special guest writer, Josh of DadStreet.com.
My name is Josh, I’m an East Coast Transplant currently living in Monterey, California.
I’m completely and utterly in love with my children and when I’m not drooling over them I’m doing one of the following: drinking wine, taking pictures, playing with my iPhone, listening to an audio book, trying some kind of new food, surfing online, sleeping, watching TV, yappin’ on the phone, and last but not least trying to spend quality time with “The Boss”. Oh, and I’m extremely sarcastic so please note that about 92% of what I say is crap. True crap but crap nonetheless…
I “met” Josh via Twitter and he is a really funny guy with a great sense of humor, a deep love for his wife and children and pretty damn snarkilicious for a Daddy. What’s not to love,right? So, if you are not familiar with Josh, please do yourself a favor and stop over at www.DadStreet.com and check him out. I would also highly recommend that you follow him on Twitter, he is a great conversationalist and will keep you on your toes. Thank you Josh for celebrating my 2nd blogiversary with me and sharing your TRUTH about Fatherhood!
My Truth: How Being a Father Has Changed Me.
I’m in love with more than one person. Growing up I wasn’t your typical “dude”. For whatever reason I could only date one girl at a time. I don’t mean I’d go out with one girl at 5:00 and then another at 6:00. I mean, I’d always wind up being in a relationship with one girl, never dating around. The thought of having feelings for more than one person at a time was just too confusing for me. So there was no way I was going to juggle multiple girls. It came as a surprise to me that I could love anyone other than my wife as much as I do. Then even crazier was the notion I could love more than one baby. I was so guilty when my wife was pregnant with Jake. I was guilty because I felt like I was taking away something from O in order to give it to Jake. Oh the guilt! You’d think I was a Jewish mother I had so much guilt. Oy Vey! But you know what? I can love more than one person and I do! I love them all so much and each in their own way. I’ve learned love is not quanitifiable and it knows no boundaries, certainly not when it comes to my family.
I’m scared to death and fear nothing. Oh the things that scare me now that I’m a dad. Moving cars in parking lots, sharp objects, choking hazards, stairs, illnesses, disease, crime, old playground equipment, unfriendly pets, earthquakes, fire, Hello Kitty, and Barney. Okay, the last two scare me but not quite like the rest. The thing is becoming a dad made me realize how important these two are to me. The thought of anything happening to them is almost inconceivable and just the remote thought of something bad fills my eyes with tears. The reality though is quite different. I know I don’t need to fear these things. My babies can rely on me. I will take care of them. With everything in my power they will not fall victim to those things in my control.
I’m relied on regardless of how reliable I am. Before being a dad I could goof up (often), make careless mistakes (often), and act irresponsibly with little recourse. I’ve learned though that’s not going to be on the menu now. Nope, Jake and O rely (very literally) on me for everything from food, water, and shelter to learned morals, values, and integrity (among many other things). I have to be responsible now. I owe it to them, they demand it, they deserve it, and they shall get it. Might I slip up? Might it take a while to get this kid (at least the bad parts of this kid) out of me? It might but I’m going to give it my best and demonstrate to them what a reliable Dad looks like.
I’m selfish but my children come first. I never thought of myself as a selfish person before. Though it’s funny what you find when you actually look in the mirror. I don’t think I was selfish in a mean, screw you kind of way. It was more of an absent minded, I’m a big idiot kind of way. Having Jake and O has made me realize they need to come first. I had my time to myself first and now it’s time for them. That doesn’t mean I should neglect my own needs, of course. Just that my priorities need to be focused with their best interest in mind, they are my priorities now.
I want to teach but haven’t been taught. A few months back I realized how awful our financial situation was. I realized how many changes needed to take place, and fast. One impetus for the change was that I wanted our children to be financially independent. I didn’t want them to know what debt was. I didn’t want them to be like their dad when it came to finances (at least the old me). How could I teach them to be fiscally responsible if I couldn’t be myself? I knew I had to first learn before I could teach. This of course doesn’t just apply to finances but every important thing I want to pass on.
They had no choice, I do. For the last 3 years and 2 weeks I’ve been a father. My children didn’t have a choice who their father was going to be. For most of my life I’ve known we had choices in which we make that determine where we go. However, I wasn’t living that way. Since having become a father I’ve started to truly grasp what it means to have a choice. Many things have happened to me that I had no control over. Things in the future will continue to happen to me and to my family under which we have no control over.. How I respond to these things, however, is directly in my power. I have the choice to be the person I want to be. I choose who I am.
I want to be the father I want my children to have. I’d always wanted children, from a very young age.. I’d always thought about what it would be like having children. I never thought so much about what it would be like to be a father though. I have very high expectations for the type of father I want Jake and O to have. Traits I’d want for their father include:
Honesty, Integrity, Responsibility, Sensitivity, Thoughtfulness, Intelligence, Down right funny, Active, Supportive, Educative, Inspiration, Spirituality, Compassionate, Energetic, Charitable, and Dependability to name a few. Yeah, that was more than a few but who’s counting?
Am I all these things now? No, but I’m working on it and the important thing is I now know what it is I’m working towards. We live our lives building what in the future will become our legacy. Many of us will build our legacy without ever knowing what it was. Being a father has taught me that I decide who I’m going to be and I determine what that legacy will be. Now that I know what I want my legacy to be as a dad, I can pave the road to it.
I want to show my children that they can build a path to whatever destination they want in life. They can’t begin to build that path though if they don’t know where they’re going. I know where I want to be and I know where I’m going. I will take my children with me and teach them the same. I have begun to learn what being a dad has taught me about myself. I know that I will continue to learn, as being a dad is as much about teaching our little ones as it is about learning from the experience.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot ( well, technically I did..twice) THROAT PUNCH THURSDAY celebrated it’s 1 year anniversary of being in existence. WootWOot! I’m a little concerned that the idea came to me the week between my wedding anniversary and my babies birthday..lol what does that say about me?? HAPPY THROAT PUNCH THURSDAY!!!!!
