The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Daddy the superhero
Every morning, I keep seeing the Mommies attached to their hysterical children, clinging to their legs/waists for dear life and sobbing uncontrollably.And every morning, I thank God that Bella isn’t doing that. Mostly because I couldn’t handle it. I just can’t imagine how that would wear on your heartstrings, day after day, watching as your ~~child~~ baby is overcome with fear and anxiety at leaving the safety and love of their Mommies arms. I do realize that if Bella were doing this, you could find me every single morning after drop off, emotionally crumpled in a puddle of tears and snot. It would be awful for both of us. I mean I am, after all, the Mommy who laid in labor with her second child, crying at a cell phone photo of her first born, because I felt so sorry for abandoning her to go to the hospital and give birth. Yeah, the apron strings are pretty taut between me and my Bella. But I loosen them as needed, for her sake. I am mature enough to know that I have to let her grow up, no matter how much I may not like the idea.Then Monday came.
There was absolutely nothing special per se about Monday, at least not noticeable to the untrained eye. The only thing that was different, was that the Big Guy had gone back to Iowa on Sunday night. You know to his hole that he lives in for work during the weekdays.Sunday’s are always hard on all of us but I had totally forgot about this Monday.I have noticed over the years that though I may be Bella’s “Best Friend” ( as she lovingly refers to me), Daddy has always been her rock. There is just something about a 6’5″ man, with a big strong body and an equally as big heart, that makes a girl feel safe and makes it easy to draw strength from. That is the Big Guy. Monday morning we followed the same routine that we had on Thursday and Friday; the absolute only thing missing was her Daddy. There were no tears from my Bella amidst the plethora of tears falling that morning amongst her classmates. I assumed all was fine.
When Gabs and I picked Bella up from school that afternoon, she seemed a little rattled as if something were missing. In retrospect, she was looking for the Big Guy. We drove home, as she rattled off the days events at a furied pace. We got home and things started going south. She proclaimed, almost angrily, that she didn’t like her outfit and promptly discarded it onto the floor. I was a little annoyed and quite confused by her behavior. I asked her to pick up her clothes; she responded with whining. I asked her close the front door; she responded with tears. I asked her what she wanted for lunch; she barked a hostile “NOTHING!” at me. The responses were becoming increasingly inappropriate to, what I thought was, seemingly innocuous requests. It was quickly a train wreck speeding out of control from bad to worse. Then Gabs had the audacity to ask her how school was; then the sobbing began.A fly landed on her and all hell broke lose! I was baffled. Is a 5 year old supposed to get PMS?
Concern trumped annoyance and I asked, in every possible way, what was wrong. After an eternity of sobbing and undecipherable blubbering, once she hit the point f hyperventilation from hard and ugly crying, she had Gabs joining in on the hysteria. I was a hair away from breaking down myself. Then she leans in and wraps her little arms around me, hugging me tighter than she has in a LONG time ( tighter than all those aforementioned Kindergartners holding on for dear life to their Mommies) and whispers this through her sobs (in her little baby kitty sounding voice) “Mommy, I don’t want to go to school. I just want to stay home with you and Gabs!I only love Mommy!” How could I not feel my insides turn to goo and my heart start to fall apart?
I held back my own tears,even though I wanted to curl up into a crumpled mess of snot and tears on the floor. It made me realize how hard all of this Daddy being out of town business has been on the girls. Sure its been difficult on the Big Guy and I but we are adults, most of the time. She misses her Rock and the collateral damage was a small nervous breakdown. I held her tight for almost forever and then a little longer and told her how we were so proud of her for being so brave and going to school. I told her how much we loved her, about all the exciting things she will do, the friends she will make and that Daddy wished he could be here with her. Then I told her, whenever she felt sad and missed us,to close her eyes and think of us and we would be at home thinking of her at the same time, because we are always thinking about her. We ended it with a nose kiss, a group hug, and a promise to walk her into class the next morning.
She called her Daddy in Iowa and he assured her that he was so proud of her, loved her more than life itself, and that he was thinking of her always. She seemed to take comfort in this.Apparently, everything sounds better coming out of his mouth. He also told her that we would send a photo to school in her backpack of all of us together. She hung up the phone, renewed and relaxed. Her entire body unclenched. Daddy the superhero. In the end, she felt better; we felt worse about the letting go. She grew up and we broke down. The letting go is the hardest part of growing up.
2010/08/25
Suicide an Insider’s Guide

Estimated reading time: 11 minutes
My feeds are full of the news of the sudden death by suicide of Stephen “tWitch” Boss. Everyone is shocked that he’s dead. It’s a travesty. Simultaneously, the world is knocked off its axis by the idea that a seemingly happy man/father/husband/celebrity who appeared to be living his “best life” with everything to look forward to, in fact, committed suicide.
But, I’m not shocked that anyone commits suicide anymore. Life is hard. Many of us contemplate it, some of us go as far as to meticulously plan it, still others attempt and too many succeed. As someone with Bipolar 1 disorder, I’ve become intimately aware of the statistics that 20-60% of all people diagnosed with bipolar will attempt suicide at least once in their life and 4-19% will succeed.
Depression does not discriminate. It gives no fucks about what you or anyone else thinks your life should feel like. Mental illness doesn’t care how wealthy you are or how charismatic you are. It strikes and it’s a cruel, clingy and unjust bitch. Once she has her greedy hold on you, she doesn’t want to let go. Wave after wave of sadness, grief and melancholy battering every inch or your heart, soul and body. It’s no wonder we start to drown in the seas of sadness. Survival is not guaranteed. Only by the grace of the universe, holding on for literal “dear life” determination and the support system to keep fighting through immeasurable pain, self-doubt, loathing and loneliness until the storm passes do we get to see another day.
To the outside world, Boss seemed like a man who had everything; a beautiful wife and 3 lovely children, a loving marriage and a career that was glowing up in all the best ways. He looked his happiest when he was with his family. He literally seemed to radiate from within. However, the truth is that we have no idea what was really going on in his heart and his head. He was beloved on the internet for his big personality, devotion to his family and all the good he brought to the online world. He was someone we needed; he was light. But even the most optimistic person has worries and weight. Most importantly, who did he see in the mirror? How did he feel in his own skin? Who was the real him to tWitch? The public is left bewildered and maybe even a little scared because if “it” could happen to him, it can happen to anyone, right? I feel this deeply because I’ve been on the precipice of eternal darkness before and it’s a terrifying and out-of-control place to be.
In my weakest moments as an adolescent, I spend many hours lying awake in the night, quietly full of despair silently sobbing into a pillow because I felt trapped in an inescapable hell, completely and utterly alone. Part of me wanted to disappear and another part of me wanted to be noticed and saved but that other part wanted to cease to exist and quietly float off into the ether. I wanted the peace that could only be found alone in the silence and darkness. These were my constant, ever-pervading thoughts throughout my early teens my early 20s.
But if you were to ask 99%of the people who knew me then, they would describe me with words like “nice,” “sweet”, “smart”, and “FUN” (yep, bipolar mania, professional and consummate compartmentalizer skills), and “funny”. I laugh a lot and I like to make others laugh even when inside, I’m falling apart. I’m one of those people who always holds it together; the deeper the pain, the quieter I get about it, and the less I scream and yell about it. I retreat into myself. I hide in plain sight. If you know, you certainly know what I’m talking about. Feeling sad sometimes feels shameful because where the hell do I get off feeling sorry for myself when so many others have it so much worse? That’s what I told myself.
In high school, I was the smart, quiet “girl next door”, the “most likely to succeed” type. I got up, went to school, did my best, and got through my days pretending to be happy and good-natured; friend to everyone. I was the type that teachers and other people’s parents loved. But my thoughts were dark. I was sad, scared, anxious and angry. No one knew what was going on at home. I never told them. I was ashamed. At home, I was the victim of physical and emotional abuse from an alcoholic father. Every moment, of every day was erratic and school was my solace. From 8-3 pm every day, I was safe. I was normal.
By the time I got to college, I had become comfortable with pretending. I was on my own for the first time in my life, I was away from my boyfriend and friends, everything was new and overwhelming. I felt out of control. In the beginning, I was scared and felt swallowed up whole by the experience but then I just let go or rather I broke under all the weight of bending. Let me explain, I pretended to be care-free. I pretended to be cool with a lot of things I wasn’t. I pretended that being completely alone in a new place, wasn’t scaring me to death. I pretended that waking up with a guy (I thought was a “friend”) on top of me, slithering off like a thief in the night while I slept…never happened. I pretended that I was tougher than I was. I pretended to be happy. I pretended to be the life of the party. None of that was true. It was quite the opposite.
What the world saw was not me. It was some version of me. She was the only reason I survived. She was the fake it until you make it Debi. Or maybe I was the push it til you break it Debi. Around this time, my eating disorders kicked into high gear. At one point it was so bad that I was consuming roughly 200-300 calories a day while purging (without the binging) sometimes up to as many as 10 times in any given 24-hour period. I felt trapped inside my own body and mind. Never free to be the real me. No. I couldn’t handle that rejection.
In those days, I survived on 3-5 hours of sleep a night, worked full-time, went to school full-time 1.5 hours away from where I lived and had to drive back and forth every day and still maintained a boyfriend and robust social life. I lived like a frat boy, drinking into the early hours of the morning, satiating my id and sleeping on the sofa at my best guy friend’s house. Pretending to be okay. No one met the real me then.
There was a Debi for school, one for work, another for the boyfriend, one who pretended to fearlessly sleep on the sofa of a house full of guys, and even one more Debi for nightlife. I felt like a little girl playing dress-up. I was not ready for any of this. The time I was the most myself was in the 3 hours I was in the car alone, blaring Alanis Morrisette and Mazzy Star, singing at the top of my lungs. No one knew me. I was a lot of people for a lot of people but I was almost never “me”.
I was tortured but when I was doing what I needed to do, when I was chin-upping it I could avoid reality and the reality was that I wanted to die. Living was too painful. Breathing was a chore. Slipping on and off personalities like comfortable coats was exhausting.
It felt like everyone wanted a piece of me but only the palatable pieces. No one wanted or cared enough to move past the “me” that they needed to really see the “Me” that I actually was. This explains how the body dysmorphia got so bad. My therapist once told me that my perception of myself is so skewed that I can never trust my own eyes to know what I really look like. So, the cost of the chameleon life I led, straddling reality and pretending to be everything to everyone is that I no longer get to see the real me. I’m gone, vanished from my own sight.
As you may surmise from the previous paragraphs, I was chronically and acutely depressed with suicidal ideation and I had a plan. I even had the opportunity and motive. My point is that to the outside world and even to those closest to me, I seemed okay. Some people even called me the life of the party. I was good at hiding the darkness. I was great at pretending to be happy and go lucky when inside I was breaking. I compartmentalized my life in such a definitive way that I built a fortress around my innermost me that cut myself off from everyone and everything I loved. I lost my joy. Even when I was smiling, I was probably actively planning how, when, and where I was going to give myself over to that eternal quiet darkness that I was longing for. I was done but I couldn’t share that part of me with anyone. I didn’t want them to console or stop me. At the time, I felt like there was no way out and I was destined to a fate of pretending to be alternate versions of myself to be loved by others. The burden was too heavy but I wore it like a dress with pockets and no one seemed to notice the gravity of it all.
In the end, we see what we want to see. We choose to believe that some people have it better than others. It’s the lie we tell ourselves to help us make it through the days. To be fair, we only see what people allow us to see of themselves and they only see what we give them access to of ourselves. In a world built on flawless filters where people are so busy that they seldom look up from their screens to see a sunset, how can any of us be expected to check in on our friends who seem to be okay? Or worse the ones who seem to be good? And that, my friends, is the problem.
We live in a world where we don’t have the time or bandwidth to care about others the way that we’d like to believe we do. We’re a society saturated in our own woes and even when we want to, it can seem futile. But we put on our brave and happy faces and we soldier on until we can no longer endure.
I don’t know what happened Monday to trigger and escalate the situation for Boss. I don’t know what his “no longer can endure” breaking point but I know the pain it feels to be there in the thick of it. I know the sorrow and thick melancholy that makes it hard to breathe and even harder to live. My heart goes out to Boss and his family. It breaks my heart to think of how alone and desperate he must have felt in those final moments when no longer existing seemed the only option.
People always want to know how and why someone could do such a thing, especially when they seem to have it all. The thing is “having it all” is worthless when you feel completely alone and unworthy of your blessings; when you hurt so much that you can’t even find joy in the things that used to make you profoundly happy; you can’t function normally under the heaviness of the sadness. You begin to doubt the point of your existence and wonder if removing yourself might actually be better for your family and friends. I’ve been there and now; my daughter is there. Sometimes, I think I survived just for this moment. I’ve been on both sides of the darkness as someone’s child and now, as the parent of someone mired in the darkness and it’s worse than you can imagine.
If you or someone you know is feeling alone in the darkness, having suicidal ideation and/or making a plan, reach out for help. You are not alone. There are so many of us who have survived. There is no switch to turn or pill to take to be all better. It’s painful to survive BUT it’s worth it. Take it day by day, hour by hour or even minute by minute. The pain seems unbearable and the crisis unsurmountable when you look at the big picture, so look for the tiny moments to get you through to the next.
If you’re in the United States, you can call the suicide and crisis lifeline at 988, available in Spanish and English language, 24 hours a day. Someone is always there to listen. You are worth saving. You matter.
2022/12/16
Change is Inevitable
As you may have noticed, change is inevitable in life in general for all of us and, more specifically, on my site in the last few days. If this is your first time here, you probably only noticed that holy smokes this woman likes her pink, like her men, hot! But really what you don’t know is that yes, while I do like the Big Guy hot, like my pink, my site has gotten a complete overhaul this past weekend. Thanks to my tech guru/ web design genius, the Big Guy. Hey, you know what they say, it’s cheaper to keep him. No way could I afford what he would charge for the pain in the ass kind of person I am to design for, especially since he undertook this task on my shark week. He is so brave. This was by far my favorite Valentine’s Day gift thus far. (more…)
2013/02/17
Sandy Hook Always on My Mind
Saturday was the anniversary of the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre. I was backstage, watching from stage left as my daughters performed their final show. I wanted to be in as close proximity to my girls as possible. I half expected some deviant, somewhere to decide to commemorate the anniversary with his or her own massacre. This is who I have become since December 14, 2012. I am afraid and I can’t shake it. Sandy Hook changed my life. Saturday, my heart was heavy for the mothers and fathers of Sandy Hook. The air was so thick I could barely breathe.
In our world, shootings happen frequently, so much so that it is no longer shocking. A crazed gun man walks into a post office, a disgruntled employee walks into his place of business, a religious zealot walks into a church, a long gunman walks into a mall or a theater, a jilted lover walks into a house…this happens all over the place, all the time but Sandy Hook was different it hit many of us where we live. Adam Lanza made us all feel vulnerable in a place where we already walk around like an open wound to the world; our children. He stole the one place we felt comfortable and safe leaving our children away from us; school.
Every morning when I drop my girls off at school, I am afraid that it might be the last time that I ever see them. Every time I hear a siren, I call the school to make sure everything is all right. If the girls are in a bad mood in the morning and we argue, I always rectify it before dropping them at school. I always hug them goodbye and I always tell them that I love them because I am terrified that something might happen and it might be the last time that we see one another and I don’t want my last words to them to be mean ones. The events that transpired that cold Friday morning at Sandy Hook Elementary did that to me. I know life goes on but my trust in the world has been broken and I am not sure that it can ever be mended.
For the rest of my life, my heart will stop when I hear a siren if my children are not in my line of sight. For the rest of my life, I will watch my children until they are all the way in the building. For the rest of my life, I will remember that my children are the most precious gift that life has given me and I will not take them for granted. For the rest of my life, I will not trust the world to protect our children. That is what Adam Lanza and his shooting spree has done to our world.
Children are not disposable. Human beings are not replaceable. No one needs a gun. Gun violence needs to stop and we need to prevent something like Sandy Hook from ever happening again.No parent should ever have to wonder if this is the last time they will see their child alive at morning drop off. We should not have to live our lives in fear. If you believe that the right to bear arms is more important that the lives of 26 people than we probably can’t be friends. Please pray for peace for the mothers and fathers of the Sandy Hook victims.
How has your perspective on life changed since Sandy Hook?
2013/12/18
Three People Who Saved My Life and Didn’t Even Know it

This post is made possible with support from the American Academy of Pediatrics through a cooperative agreement with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. All opinions are my own.
I grew up in a big family with an even bigger extended family. Our family wasn’t just the people we were related to. It was also the people in our community whom we loved and who loved us and cared for us, too. I am grateful for those people who were there when I needed them most.
My parents are good parents. They’re even better grandparents. When I was small, they were new at parenting and, like all of us, they didn’t always know the right thing to do. I’ve made mistakes as a mom, just as all of us do. But I survived those moments thanks to good intentions and the village that was there to help guide me when I was a little lost and couldn’t find my way. In many ways, I’ve thrived because of the positive childhood experiences I’ve had.
I did however live through my fair share of ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences). ACEs are negative childhood experiences that impact children and can have long-lasting effects. There are 10 ACEs, and they fall into 3 categories: 1) Abuse (physical, emotional, or sexual); 2) Neglect (physical or emotional); and 3) Household dysfunction (mental illness, domestic violence, divorce, incarcerated relative, substance abuse). Thankfully, ACEs can be prevented or mitigated when adults and children have strong support systems through individuals or organizations.
There are a lot of traumatic things that can happen in a child’s life, including death, pandemics, or natural disasters, but ACEs can be prevented either directly with help from another person, or indirectly through policy, education, or society changes such as paid family leave or prison sentencing laws.
The ACEs that I experienced were physical and emotional abuse by a father who was an alcoholic. He has since stopped drinking. He has been sober for most of my adult life, but those early days have left their scars. His alcoholism sucked all of the air out of the room. This isn’t to say he wasn’t a good dad. When he was sober, 5 days of the week, he was a devoted, loving, and involved father. But when he was drinking, he was selfish, mean, quick-tempered, unpredictable, and volatile. He was scary, maybe even more so because when he was sober, he was so good.
His behavior had ripple effects. His instability caused my mother to spend a lot of her time distracted, overwhelmed, afraid, and unhappy. She loved us so much, but it always felt like she was withdrawn, even though she was always physically there. She teetered between being emotionally removed and overly emotional. For me, I never felt like she was completely present; putting out fires while awaiting the next crisis.
In turn, this caused me to pick up the slack, and that impeded my childhood. With 6 children, a volatile father who drank, and a mom who was always overwhelmed, worried, and afraid, I was left feeling abandoned even when I was living in the house with both of my parents. They were physically there, but I felt very alone. I needed to talk. I needed to be seen. But I was just one more thing on their lists of things to survive, and sometimes, my needs were too much for their patience that day.
Each day was an unknown—maybe it would be a day at the beach followed by a cookout and laughter, or maybe it would be a drunk dad, an overwhelmed mom, and a slap or a belt buckle for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I just never knew, and that was my entire childhood until I went away to college, which may have never happened if not for a few special people who saw me drowning and threw me a buoy. University was my escape plan, but these people were integral in helping me get through some of the rough patches.
Thankfully, for as many adverse childhood experiences as I had, I also had many positive childhood experiences with my parents. Luckily for me, a few very special people’s simple acts of kindness towards a little girl in crisis helped me to grow into the person I am today. They’re the reason I’ve always made myself available to lift children up when I can, to advocate for my children’s friends, and to be a champion and cheerleader for my girls. I learned from the mistakes and the kindnesses of the adults in my life. Our actions, good or bad, have ripples and can make a difference in other people’s lives, especially a child’s.
There were many but these are the three that I would like to thank:
Mrs. Vrabel, my 2nd-grade teacher who took a special liking to me and saw me at a time when I needed to be seen. She nurtured my gifts and praised me at a time when I was one of five children under 7 at home. She made me feel special when my parents were too busy, tired and overwhelmed to do it themselves.
My Tio Narci and my Tio Ramon, who both made the time to talk and listen when I was trying to understand what was going on with my parents’ fighting and my dad’s drinking. They made me not feel alone, and I felt safe knowing they were there to intercede when my mom couldn’t. I felt heard when my voice felt small. They stepped in on my behalf to remind my parents we were still there watching—afraid and confused. They made me feel normal at a time when my life felt out of control.
My friend’s mom, Linda, who I will never forget. To this day, I adore her. A lot of things were happening at home when I was a senior in high school. It was all so much that I was depressed and, at one point, suicidal. School wasn’t very important to me. I knew college was my escape plan and I got good grades, but I was depressed and I just didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be anywhere.
By that point, I was suffering from eating disorders, and that was just one more thing I had to hide. I suffered from a lot of stomach issues from anxiety from my home life, so I missed a lot of school. My mom let me stay home because she knew what was going on and that was the only thing she could do to help. My English teacher tried to fail me for the last quarter of my senior year because of my attendance issues despite my grade being an A.
He would have succeeded. I was terrified when he gleefully told me. Yes, he smiled. He didn’t know what was going on at home, and he didn’t care. That wasn’t his job. He just knew that I missed his class a lot, and he felt that deserved punishment. Did I mention I was #3 in my class? Did I mention that I had been in journalism, yearbook, and newspaper for all 4 years of high school? Did I mention I took 2 languages, all 4 years? I was the nerdy girl who worked her tail off to get accepted to every college she applied to. I got a gold seal on my diploma. But he tried to fail me, and I had no one to advocate for me because my parents were otherwise engaged.
I didn’t know what to do. Then my friend, Laurie, stepped in with her mom, who happened to be on the school board. The teacher was overruled because all of those journalism classes counted as English coursework, so his one quarter was not going to affect my overall requirements. She saved my future when no one else could or would.
I’ll never forget what these people did for me. They saved me at pivotal moments in my life when I could have been lost. It’s so important to create safe, stable, and nurturing relationships and environments in childhood, which are essential to lifelong health and success as well as the prevention of ACEs. Prevention or mitigation is possible when adults and children have strong support systems through individuals or organizations. That’s the idea of preventing them directly. You can help other people and stop ACEs from happening, and other people can help you and stop ACEs from happening. That’s why support networks are a necessary component of preventing ACEs.
These three people changed the trajectory of my life. I am who I am, in part, because they were in my life when I needed them most. Are you one of some child’s three people? Are you a resource that children can rely on to create those safe, stable, and nurturing relationships and environments? How can you be part of someone else’s “three,” and provide that vital support that every child needs growing up?

2020/07/24
Be a Better Parent Challenge – Day 30 – Find your system
Today is Challenge #30: Find your system – and I want you to tackle creating your own system of how you work your mornings and evenings, or everything in between.
I realize that you might use system and schedule in the same way, but I’ve come to realize that it’s not really a schedule since it often happens at different times, but the method I use is the same.
For example, here’s how our school days go:
- The alarm goes off at 6:25 am.I wake the girls up.
- They eat breakfast and watch cartoons.
- Once breakfast has been eaten, they get dressed (in whatever I have laid out the night before) as I pack Bella’s snack for the day.
- -I then do their hair and send them to brush their teeth.
- At 7:20 am we head out the door and make the drive downtown to her school.
Here’s how after school goes:
- 11:30 pick Bella up from school
- Noon, make lunch
- After lunch, we hang out for about an hour doing puzzles, going over how the day is going, playing a game whatever.
- 1:30-2:30 Rest time. I have eliminated naps during the school week because my girls nap generally for 2 hours and if I allow that , there is no way they will go to bed at an hour that will allow them to wake at 6:25 am.
- 2:30-4:00 play outside
- 4:00 Take baths
- 5:00 Dinner
- 5:30 Brush teeth, say good nights ( it take them forever to tell one another goodnight,loads of hugs and kisses even though they sleep in the same bed) and have a Dance the sillies out dance contest.
- Immediately after that they go into bed with either a couple books or 15 minutes of TV ( Before you say it, I know TV is not god before bed but Gabs still wants to fall asleep in my lap so sometimes TV is what it has to be), depending on the day and their preferences, my mood, etc.
- By 6:00-6:30 they are both asleep for the night.
I know these are not brilliant revelations, but it’s taken me this long to actually come up with a system that works. I really try not to deviate from it because it works so well and the kids come to expect it. And when there’s that consistency, things just tend to run much better.I’ve just started this new system in he last 2 weeks and its pretty amazing to have all that free time at night.I love it.
Of course, my husband works out of town- which means he’s usually not home when all this is going on, but on the weekends the system is slightly different. For example; Fridays and Saturdays,the girls can have naps.Also,on weekends we can divide and conquer. It gives the girls something to look forward to on the weekends and a little extra awake time with the big guy.
What’s your system?
2010/08/30
Change Your Career and Change Your Life
Have you been thinking about changing your career? Maybe thinking about rejoining the workforce. I did that very thing earlier this year; political scientist, storytelling lifestyle blogger turned preschooler pied piper. I get it. I love a good challenge.If you’ve spent a lot of your working life flitting between jobs or working in one area, choosing to retrain in something different can be a big and sometimes even scary deal!
Don’t let fear stop you from doing what you want; pursuing your passions. Honestly, there are so many benefits to going back to school when you’re older. It shouldn’t matter what your reasons are if you want to do this, then you should make it your priority.
“If you’re bored with life – you don’t get up every morning with a burning desire to do things – you don’t have enough goals – Lou Holtz”
If you are considering going back to school or changing career paths, it is never too late. There are always options available to you… no matter what your dreams are.
Stay Motivated.
While it’s true that people who choose to learn a new career or develop their skills later in life have more to lose than someone fresh out of high school. It doesn’t mean you can’t stop and change direction. It’s never too late to pivot in life. I reinvent myself all the time. Life is always moving; you can’t stay stagnant. Even if you have a family, mortgage or other commitments you need to focus on during this change. Instead of letting it stop you, use it as motivation to do and be better; the best you can.
Be positive. Sure, it might be hard but it will be worth it. Focus on the benefits your new changes will give you and your family. The result will be worth it in the long run.
Clear Goals.
Most people don’t really know what they want to do when they go to college. Heading back to school at a later stage in life gives you the chance to know exactly why you are and have the focus and drive to stick the course.
Heading back to the classroom now, whether physical or virtual, could well be the best time for you. So go ahead, embark on a new career completely or branch out into a different area in the same field. You may find that you are more driven, focussed and determined now to reach your goals than younger you were!
Life Experience.
Are you worried you don’t have all the relevant experience for your new career? Instead, look at what other experiences you can draw on. There is a lot to be said about having life skills under your belt.
Don’t underestimate all you have learned so far in life. Look at ways you can work with what you know and have already learned. Look at how you can apply it to your new goal.
Skills such as;
- Timekeeping
- Interacting with other people,
- Budgeting from dealing with household finances,
- Managing schedules eg, juggling after-school activities.
These are all valuable qualities that a lot of employers look for.
So don’t worry about your life or even your age being detrimental to reaching your goals. Whether this is a new dream or goals just not yet reached, hold your head high, start your new journey and show the world what you’re made of!
2019/12/10
A Birthday wish, Hopping, Fawking and More Fawking!
Happy Friday!Well, I am trying to make it a happy Friday! I awoke in a little bit of a funk, don’t you hate when that happens? I should be ecstatic since the Big Guy will be here for dinner tonight and the girl will be out of school for the weekend. I think it may be the prospect of all of this housework that’s got me in the dumps.I guess I better just pull up my big girl panties and get to it…just as soon as I’m done with this post.Hope you are all having a wondrous Friday and looking forward to an even more splendid weekend. Ok, lovely readers of mine, I have 1 week and a day before my birthday! If you’ve been following me already you know that I am desperately trying to reach a goal of 1000 blog followers by my birthday. It’s my gift to myself! So, if you are not a certified follower please take the moment and click the Google Friend connect button in the sidebar. I would really appreciate it. Also, please share the blog with anyone you think might enjoy. Happy Friday!
1.   When I get a day to myself I like to…drink something warm, take a long, hot bath, lie in bed and watch veg movies ( like 80’s veg out movies).Meander around the house and enjoy the silence…nap!OMG, doesn’t that sound absolutely perfect. Hey anybody looking for a birthday present for Truthful Mommy..let’s make that happen:)Hear me Mom? *wink *wink*
2. High school was….filled with new experiences and great friends. I loved high school. They say life is high school.I agree. Life is pretty great for me…most days:) Not Monday or Tuesday of this week but usually!

3. A little dream I have is to write for SheKnows,Babble, or contribute to a major paper. Oh yeah and to have 1000 + blog followers by next Saturday!

4. A big dream I have is to start with a column, evolve into a book, become an empire and to travel the entire world with the Big Guy and my girls. I want to be Queen of my Destiny and I want the journey to be glorious. Is that asking too much? I think not!
5. If I could drive any car my pick would be
I just think this SUV is sexy and sleek. I’d feel powerful and hot driving it around town…chauffeuring rug rats!LOL
6. A time that I felt really and truly beautiful was the moment my husband told me that he loved me for the first time. We were home on break from school in the fall,back when we were both much younger and thinner, we were kissing and he pulled away and looked at me and whispered..I love you. I knew he meant it. We had been dating for a little over a month. He scared me. He shocked me. But I could see it all over his face…I was home and I have never felt so beautiful as I did in those few extremely unconditional moments.

7.  Tomorrow I will…. spend the day with the Big Guy and our girls ,hopefully, not doing much of anything. I need a rest! Lots of relaxing and loving on one another and I am really hoping for a nap!

Now for my FAWK YOUs
Fawk you to being frustrated and not being able to protect my children from all the ignorance in the world!

Fawk You to clean laundry that once again refuses to put itself away!

Fawk You to the distance between where my husband resides and my girls and I reside.

Fawk you to the exercise that I NEVER have time to actually do.

Yeah, FAWK you to the damn Shred DVD eyeballing me from the mantel..taunting me! Look dude, I am busy disengaging tantrum bombs and meltdowns. Sorry if I haven’t had any ‘me” time since I issued the challenge!!!!

Fawk you to all the stupid people in the world. I used to feel sorry for you but now you just annoy me. If you can’t use a word correctly please,for the love of Pete,don’t talk to me!!!

Fawk you to having someplace to go and nothing to wear!

Fawk you to Mommy Guilt..what a useless emotion and waste of time!!!

Fawk you to my stupid dog who shit on my carpet because she was mad at me! Damn emotional train wreck. We need some more testosterone in the joint!

2010/09/17
What Would You Do if Someone Discussed Abortion with Your 5-year-old?
I’ve got a presidential election hangover from all the excitement, anxiety and combustible tension of last night, did I mention lack of sleep? Holy cow, the baggage under my eyes has carry ons. It’s going to be hard to go presidential election cold turkey but I’ll be glad to put the vitriolic diatribes behind me; listening to them not spewing them. I never spew.
To my dismay, some of my favorite people became very small during this presidential election; I was particularly appalled by what my children heard about the candidates at school. (more…)
2012/11/07
Dora the Explorer and the Lost City of Gold
Swiper, no swiping. Anyone who has a child between the ages of 0-19, especially those of us who are Latino, knows all too well what those words mean. Did you hear the news? Dora the Explorer is coming to the big screen in a live-action feature-length film Dora and the Lost City of Gold. We are here for it.
I spent the better part of the first 6 years of motherhood watching Dora the Explorer. In fact, I remember our first Christmas as parents, the Big Guy tussled with a granny over a Dora the Explorer dollhouse for Bella. She has a special place in our house and our hearts.
Dora is no longer a little explorer in the jungle with Boots. She’s moved to the city to attend high school with her cousin Diego. No worries, it’s not long before she’s back to her old ways solving mysteries, having adventures and even hanging out with Boots and saving the day. Dora the Explorer has grown up and become Indiana Jones 2.0.
READ ALSO: I Speak Baby, do You?
Her first mission as an adorably awkward teen is to save her parents and solve the mystery of a lost Inca civilization. Bringing this beloved Nickelodeon series to the big screen in the most adventurous way possible. Personally, I’m getting a live-action Scooby Doo vibe and I’m here for it.

Paramount unveiled the Dora and the Lost City of Gold preview during the Kids’ Choice Awards.
In the trailer of Dora and the Lost City of Gold, Dora (Isabela Moner) is sent off to live in the city with her cousin Diego (Jeffrey Wahlberg), separating her for the first time from the jungle she calls home and her parents (played by Eva Longoria and Michael Peña).
High school is an adjustment from the life she’s always known. There are no Boots the sidekick, crime-fighting weapons are not allowed on school property and a large purple backpack is a hazard when it tends to get stuck in school bus doors.
READ ALSO: Girls and their Daddies
No fear, the big city doesn’t completely gentrify our heroine. Her explorer skills kick in when she’s forced back to the jungle to save her parents and solve the mystery of the long-lost city of gold. Her sidekick monkey, Boots, voiced by Danny Trejo, is also along for the ride.
The film stars Eugenio Derbez, as Alejandro, a mysterious jungle inhabitant trying to protect Dora and her friends.
READ ALSO: Calling Little Girls the B-Word is how we Empower Strong Women
We had many a play date acting out scenes from Dora the Explorer. We had dress up costumes, Boots the monkey and even the purple backpack. Figurines and dollhouses, if they made it we had it. I remember the birthday parties and playing Dora the Explorer edition Chutes and Ladders. We even saw Dora and Diego live on stage. My girls loved her and I loved having a strong, inquisitive, bilingual female character that my little girls could grow up watching.
Dora the Explorer is thrilling us with her evolution. I love that my daughter, grew up loving Dora, and now gets to see Dora on the big screen. My daughter starts high school next August. My girls can’t wait to see Dora and the Lost City of Gold and neither can I.
The all-new adaptation Dora and the Lost City of Gold will hit theaters Aug. 2. I’ll be seeing it, will you?
2019/03/25