Leaving on a Jet Plane~ This is the sort of Sunday that I thought our family was done with forever. The Big Guy has a business trip this week. It’s only for 3 days and that’s infinitely better than the commuter marriage we were dealing with the last couple of years. Nonetheless, the bitter sting of the past 2 years lingers around us like slow rising fog. We are cloaked and covered in it’s residue of pain. The girls are just coming to terms with their abandonment issues and we are all just getting used to the fact that we are together and nobody is leaving. When the Big Guy told the girls at bedtime tonight that he would be leaving for Boston in the morning for a few days, it quickly became evident just how open the wound still is.
Please No More Leaving,Daddy
Abbi immediately started hyperventilating crying and leopard spotting when she realized he was leaving . The Big Guy tried to console her, as his own heart took some painful cuts. Concurrently, Ella is standing there in stoic, quiet solitude as her lip quivered and her eyes fill with tears at the thought of yet another goodbye. I wanted, so badly, to reach out to them ( all three of them) and reassure them that this is just a business trip but for my girls, there is no such thing as JUST a short business trip. In the end, every time he leaves now…it is him leaving us. They’ve spent too many Sunday’s saying goodbye at their tender ages and it has taken it’s toll. Tonight, the Big Guy laid down to read stories as they gathered around and nestled into him. The three of them fell asleep in a blissful dreamy blur. One of the most beautiful things a Mom can ever see is the man she loves loving their children so completely. We had planned to spend the night together, he and I, snuggled close. Sometimes the cologne on his body transfers itself to my nightgown, such a small thing but a luxury when you are so used to someone leaving. Tonight my simple sacrifice will go a long way in our daughters’ hearts. These are the moments they will look back on and remember, the small gestures of us loving them. I love the way my Big Guy loves our littles and in his loving them, I love him more than I ever thought was possible. I hope the next three days are the fastest we’ve ever experienced. Absence, in small doses, makes the hearts grow fonder and the return home that much more sweet.
This morning on our drive to preschool, Gabi began asking me her daily quota of questions about death, heaven and God and/or Jesus. I’m not joking this kid is suddenly obsessed with death and what happens in the after life. Or rather, what happens to people who die. She’s four and shouldn’t be asking these questions, or maybe she should. I just wish she didn’t even have death on her radar yet. I never thought I’d be contemplating how to explain death to children at this age.
It’s my own fault. In July, my estranged Grandmother died. But in the weeks before she died, my presence was requested by her. I hadn’t seen her in about 20 years in any real capacity, save for the 5 minutes she had stopped by baby shower and disappeared just as quickly six years ago. I hadn’t really known her and she had never met either of my girls but I hated to deny a dying woman her last wish.
I decided that I needed to tell the girls about this woman if they were going to meet her. I told them that my grandmother was sick and very old. I was trying to prep them for meeting a woman on her death bed. Of course, my Gabs would ask daily if we were going to see the “sick oldie.” You know how four-year-olds are, they tend to get stuck on repeat.
We never made it to Ohio to say goodbye. After she died, my girls were still asking what happened to the sick oldie. I told them that she had went to God and Abbi has been preoccupied with people dying and what happens to them once they die ever since.
Gabi: Mommy, is Jesus dead?
Me: Well, Abbi his body died but his soul went to heaven to be with God.
Gabi: Who’s God? Is that him Daddy?
Me: Yes, that is his father.
Gabs: Mom, is Jesus with the sick oldie?
Me: Yes, Abbi. My grandma is in heaven with Jesus.
Gabi: Mommy, how is Jesus in heaven if he is dead?
Me: His body is dead, his soul is in heaven.
Gabs: Mommy, what’s a soul?
Me: It’s what’s inside all of us. It’s what makes us special.
Gabi: Mommy?
Me:Yes, honey.
*Seriously, how long is this ride between schools. This was the longest mile and a half of my life.
God Help me explain death in a way a little brain can digest it.
Gabi: Mommy, do you think God and Jesus are playing with the Care Bears and making the sick oldie feel better?
Me: The Care Bears?
Gabs: Yes, Mommy because you know what ? The Care Bears live in the clouds just like God and Jesus.
Me: Maybe, honey.
Gabi: Mommy, you know what? Th sick oldie is happy because she is with Jesus, God and the Care Bears. Me know it! Okay, Mommy?
I didn’t get to say goodbye but I’d like to think she is in heaven with God, Jesus and the Care Bears having a good time frolicking above us all and keeping an eye on us.
God, Jesus and the Care Bears this is how you explain death to children.
What do you think constitutes a life that’s good? It’s been a really weird couple of weeks. I’m not sure that mentally, I’ve completely returned from vacation. It’s difficult to get back into a routine when you’ve just spent 2 weeks living on vacation time. But when something unexpected like illness is thrown your way, well, your world goes from hazy to upside down in zero seconds flat. You find yourself discombobulated and confused. You find yourself weary and worn. You find yourself changing perspective and reprioritizing. Then, you find your way.
Sunday morning started like every other Father’s day, I told the Big Guy to sleep in. Then I went downstairs and began making espresso and cooking breakfast, as our girls busied themselves making him the sweetest Father’s Day banner to date. Everything was right in my world. I was feeling blessed.
The day before was spend doing yard work and teaching the girls how to play basketball. Things were starting to fall back into a groove. Normalcy was settling in and the overwhelming exhaustion of reentry was dissipating. Then it happened. The other foot. I always get cocky when things are good and then life throws me a curveball to instill a little humility.
After breakfast, the Big Guy said he wasn’t feeling “well” and went to lie down. I went up after him to check in on him because this is very out of character for him. I found him laying in silence, fist clenched as he stoically winced. I knew something was wrong. In the 18 years that I have shared a life with this man, I’ve never seen him do this. He has a high tolerance for pain (unless you count the man cold) but this was something different. I knew he was in pain. It’s humbling to see a 6’5”, 250-pound man incapacitated. It scared me because what if it was something serious. What would I do without him?
I asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, he brushed it off. I knew better. I called my in laws to come stay with our girls and,in silence, we headed for the hospital. Happy Father’s Day to the Big Guy. I hate the ride to the hospital. It’s always the time my head thinks all of the worst thoughts.
We spent all day there. It was a three Xanax kind of day because seeing him in real pain made me feel helpless and that turned the volume up on my anxiety to high but I couldn’t show it. I had to stay strong for him, like he’s done for me so many times. All I wanted to do was breakdown. Think trapped wild animal but instead of a wild animal it was my emotions being forced silent inside of my head.
Deep breath. Keep your shit together lady. Pray. Check in on kids. See if he needs anything. Can I do something? Question the nurses and doctors like it’s your job (because it is.) Mind keeps going to the worst place. Get the hell out of my mind. Shift in my seat. Hold back the tears. Deep breath. Keep shit together. Pray….Repeat!
Eventually, after a CT and several other tests in which he was poked and prodded, they released him home to me with 3 bottles of medication and a strict clear diet and orders to see a surgeon the next day. I was happy to be taking him home but still my mind would not quiet. All I kept thinking was he needed to follow up with a surgeon. My thoughts were spastic and my heart was cracking. Stay strong bitch. This is NOT about YOU!
We went to the surgeon and for now, it’s nothing a couple weeks of high-powered antibiotics and some pain meds won’t fix. We’re scheduled for a follow up but today the prognosis is good. My mind is still worried, even with the 99.9% reassurance from the funny little doctor with the sunny disposition and wonderful sense of humor. To him, my husband is just another patient but to me, the Big Guy is everything.
The bottom line is that life happens and sometimes it’s some really shitty stuff like losing a baby or a parent or watching helplessly as your child or your husband is hospitalized. All you can do is pray and advocate, advocate and pray like their life depends on it because sometimes it does. The rest of the time all that we can hope for is a life that is good.
Speaking of which, about half way through writing this post, A Life That’s Good by Lennon and Maisy came on and the words spoke to my heart. This song sums up exactly what I’ve been feeling these past couple of days. Here are the Lyrics:
Sitting here tonight, by the fire light It reminds me I already have more than I should. I don’t need fame, no one to know my name. At the end of the day, Lord I pray
I have a life that’s good.
Two arms around me Heaven to ground me and a family that always calls me home. Four wheels to get there. Enough love to share and a sweet, sweet, sweet song. At the end of the day, Lord I pray I have a life that’s good.
Sometimes I’m hard on me, when dreams don’t come easy I wanna look back and say I did all that I could. At the end of the day, Lord I pray I have a life that’s good.
Two arms around me Heaven to ground me and a family that always calls me home. Four wheels to get there. Enough love to share and a sweet, sweet, sweet song. At the end of the day, Lord I pray I have a life that’s good.
At the end of the day, Lord I pray I have a life that’s good.
In the end, who cares about money, status or what other people think about us? All that matters is that we lived on our own terms, a life of few regrets and filled with lots of love. Care about the people who matter and don’t waste your time on those who you don’t matter to. These past few days have reminded me that I really do have a life that’s good and that is more than enough. That is everything.
Tonight, I am thankful. I am thoughtful. The people that I love are safe and healthy and that’s more than enough.
My 7-year-old just celebrated her First Holy Communion. She chose to wear her sister’s communion dress and sweater. She looked beautiful almost angelic. There was something special about seeing her in her sister’s dress. Dressing her was a little foreshadowing of what her wedding day might be like and, of course, that coupled with the momentous occasion had me feeling a little emotional.
You know when they were newborns and I baptized them, I bought them each separate baptismal gowns. It felt like it had to be done, in case they had little girls someday that they wanted to pass their dresses on. I wanted them to have that but when we went to the bridal store and my 7-year-old picked out the exact same dress that I had bought for her sister 2 years ago it made no sense to buy the same dress twice. They both loved the idea.
You see they are best friends. The older one thrives on mothering her little sister and the little one loves to feel connected to and emulate her sister in every way. Sometimes I worry that this relationship is too close, too co-dependent but then I realize that when we are gone, they will only have one another and I want them to be more than sisters, I want them to be friends and more than that, I want them to realize that the love that they share is unconditional and the bond unbreakable.
Every time the girls have a milestone, I become a little nostalgic and a lot verklempt. You see, I only have two children. So every milestone is a first and the last, the alpha and omega of my parenting, if you will. This month just about breaks me every year because it is milestone on top of milestone constantly, not unlike my labors with those two girls. Parenting has become a whirlwind and I just want to hit the pause button, study their tiny faces, commit those tiny voices to memory and hug them for longer periods of time before they break free to find the next adventure with their friends.
Gabi’s communion fell on May 2nd, the day immediately after May 1st (my one day of the year of feeling sorry for myself). I was supposed to spend Friday alone feeling all the feels but instead I was running all over town preparing for a party. It felt surreal but it also didn’t feel right to spend the day mourning the dead when I had such a big celebration for the living to plan. It felt unfair but I pushed it down and carried on.
I know I lingered a little longer holding her in my arms that Saturday, wanting to cherish every moment of this last first communion and being painfully aware that it was the last. She was full of giggles and smiles and I met each and every one with my own. I was so proud of her. We took all the photos to commemorate the day and we headed home to celebrate her first communion and the Big Guy’s 40th birthday.
Yep, God’s great plan included me celebrating all weekend long. Maybe he was trying to get me out of my funk. My husband stayed home Friday too under the guise of helping me run errands for the party but really, I think part of him wanted to make sure that I didn’t sink too far down the rabbit hole of sadness. He handled me with such sensitivity and love, it was hard to feel sorry for myself when I am blessed with him I my life. I’m glad he did because my entire weekend was full of love, family and celebration like a rainbow after a storm. I needed that.
At the end of the night, I hung that communion dress up and put it away for the last time. It will not be worn again by one of my children but maybe someday it will be worn by one of my granddaughters and that makes my heart happier than I thought was possible. Hope is what all of those tiny white dresses represent for me now; the baptismal gowns that I christened my daughters in, the beautiful communion gown they shared and my wedding dress pressed, cleaned and tidy in their boxes just waiting to make more memories.
What did you feel on your child’s first communion or other big “growing up” milestone?
Letting go and breaking free sounds like I’m jail breaking from my life but that’s not it at all. It’s more like I’ve made the conscious decision to give myself permission to live my authentic truth, regardless of anyone else’s thoughts, expectations or opinions. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been one to place my value in other people’s hands but I’m human and, on some level, like everyone else, I want to be celebrated for being me. Thus far, my only measure of me has been the world around me. That stops now.
Now, the only measure of me is me and the only person whose opinion counts on how I’m showing up for me is me. It’s finally clicked that caring what other people, more precisely strangers, think of me is absolutely ridiculous almost to the point of insanity. Aside from the Big Guy and my girls, I obviously want to be a good role model for them. But mostly, I just want to be seen…really seen and that starts by me showing up for me; listening to my own wants and needs. For the first time in a really long time (or maybe ever) treating myself with the unconditional love, respect, patience, forgiveness and tenderness that I give to the people I love.
This year, I’m not doing resolutions. I’m changing perspective and taking accountability. No more waiting for the universe to show up. It’s been there all along. I just wanted to be rescued. It’s time to save myself. I’ve decided that this is the year that I am letting go.
Honestly, I’m kind of being forced to let go on one level. Bella is graduating from high school and time is running out. While there is no expiration date on motherhood, it is always evolving and tomorrow will never be the same as today. Bella may not be going to magically disappear at the stroke of midnight on her 18th birthday but things are slightly and increasingly changing every single day. It is amazing to watch the baby they laid on my chest all those years ago, the one who made me mad with love (I laughed and cried simultaneously the moment I met her), grow into one of my favorite human beings and I’m not just saying that with mom goggles. She is truly a good human being. Sure, she can be a little difficult and she’s not for everyone but who is? Her heart is so big and devoted that those lucky enough to be loved by her will be blessed with complete and unconditional adoration. She’s fiercely loyal and kind to those she cares about. Letting go is not going to be easy for me, even now, in my self-proclaimed state of free-range mom of teen girls. My inner helicopter mom still sees their toddlers within and it’s making this round of evolution hit even harder.
When I say that “I’m letting go” I’m referring to every area of my life. I’m not giving up, that’s a foreign concept to me. I’m breaking free of my own self-inflicted shackles of expectation built upon a foundation of societal norms and parental inflicted trauma. I’m done trying to hold onto people and things that not only don’t serve me but actively waste my time and energy. I’m finally ready to be responsible for my own choices; consequences and all. I’m ready to begin living for me because I am enough to live for. I am complete. I always have been, even though sometimes I felt unwhole and broken.
Things like envy, worry and hatred I’m trading them in for pushing myself harder to chase those dreams, actively working towards health and happiness goals and forgiveness of others and myself. I’m no longer going to let other people’s actions ruin my day. I’m choosing happiness and I’m holding on with both hands.
I’m letting go of other people’s expectations of who I’m supposed to be. I’m not saying I’m going to bulldoze my way through life without considering other people’s feelings but I’m going to give myself the same permission I give everyone else in the world to live my truth and let others live theirs. I don’t judge others but I am highly critical of myself. I live in a constant state of suffering from imposter syndrome. I’ve always been a perfectionist; maybe it’s the bipolar or maybe it’s the ADHD or maybe it’s my secondary toxic trait right after my unrelenting optimism? I don’t know and I don’t even care. It is what it is. It’s me and it doesn’t work anymore. It isn’t healthy. No one is perfect and things don’t always work out. Nothing is perfect and I’m no exception so I need to forgive myself for my imperfections and be more grateful for the people, things and talents that I do have.
I’m letting go of holding on to one sided friendships of all kinds. It’s tiring and exhausting to try to read other people’s minds. People always seem to appreciate my acts of kindness and are surprised by my thoughtfulness but, surprisingly, seldom ever think to reciprocate or initiate. It’s a whole lot of taking.
Look, I know that no relationship is 50/50. It’s ever changing to meet the needs of the relationship but when it becomes me always giving and others always taking, that’s a red flag for me. I’m choosing to refuse to ignore it going forward. I’m not saying I’m going to cut you out of my life but if I’m doing all the heavy lifting, you’re going to notice that I’m going to start taking it easy and investing my time and love elsewhere into the places and people that acknowledge my efforts.
I’ve decided that I’m getting too old to relentlessly keep trying to make anyone like me and life’s too short anyways. Either we like each other or we don’t. Either we’re friends are we aren’t. I’m resolving to not take it too personally and I’m choosing to let that go. I’m not too narcissistic to realize that I’m not for everyone and that’s ok. Just be straight with me. Have enough respect for me to either be in or be out but don’t string me along in business or friendships. I promise I won’t fall apart if you tell me that you’re just not that into me, just be civil about it. After all, I am human.
I’m letting go of worrying about and overthinking every, single thing in my life. It is exhausting and changes nothing. Instead, I’m prioritizing and spending my time wisely where it matters most to me.
I’m letting go of chasing the perfect body and the perfect weight. There is no such thing. Instead, I’m looking for that healthy high. I have goals and they have nothing to do with the size of my ass or the pertness of my breasts. Like I said, my most important thing to keep in mind is that my girls are always watching so why would I ever put them on the crazy train of body dysmorphia and eating disorders? I’ve been there and I’m still battling this relationship with my body. But no more. Namaste body. I love you. I want to protect you and I want to worship this body and treat it with respect and love. This begins with letting go of what the world says that’s supposed to look like.
I’m releasing myself from feeling guilty for not having the same body I had when I was 25. I’m not feeling bad about myself or punishing my body for not being the same size or shape as the mom next to me and I’m definitely not comparing my seasoned body to a teenage super models. I’m not giving up but I’m giving myself over to new possibilities and reframing my own perspective and embracing realistic expectations. The goal is a healthy body not a skinny one.
My new outlook is going to be one fueled by gratitude for the things I have not envy for the things I don’t, appreciation for who I am today instead of anticipation of the person I want to become and a verve to live each day like it is the only day with less procrastination and less disappointment. Most of all, I’m going forward with an abundance of love for the world around me for what it actually is rather than withholding praise for special occasions. Going forward, I’m letting go of putting conditions on when I start to live to my fullest no more “if this than that” or “when I get here, I’ll do that”. I’m letting go of the fear of success, disappointment in others reactions to my actions and the shackles of the pursuit of perfection and I’m actively going to live every moment present without hesitation or overthinking. I’m letting go of the things I can’t change and embracing the things I can. It starts by believing I’m enough, right now.
Okay, Miley Cyrus, I get it you are not Hannah Montana. After last night’s VMA’s everyone is wondering just what the hell went so wrong in Miley Cyrus’ young life that warranted last night’s performance. Was she over the top? Absolutely. Was she embarrassingly crass on stage? For sure! Has she not enough bootie to do the twerk justice? Indubitably. But is she some sort of anomaly who has gone completely off her respective Disney rocker? I’m going to say, probably not. Maybe but I seriously doubt it. My bigger concern was Robin Thicke , 36, in a Beetlejuice suit pushing his junk up on a twerking Miley Cyrus, 20. Ewww!!!! Can you say, dirty old man?
In my opinion, Miley Cyrus is not doing anything worse than most girls her age on college campuses and in clubs all over the country. I also have a sneaking suspicion that while “Molly” the lyric may have been banned from the VMAs by MTV, Molly the drug may not have been. The only difference between Miley and other 20-year-olds is that she is in the public eye and she used to be a Disney kid. You can’t be a Disney kid for the rest of your life, even Annetter Funicello got a little down and dirty with Frankie Avalon in those beach movies.Oh yeah, there was definitely some twerking like moves exhibited on the beach in bikinis, no less.
I’m starting to feel like either there is a Disney curse imposed on all young stars who dare leave the superpower or Disney is systematically taking all their deserters down. Selena Gomez, you better watch out. You might be next. I mean really where else can you go on the moral spectrum but down after Disney?
Miley Cyrus twerking, I find mildly offensive mostly because she has no ass to speak of but then again, I find twerking in general to be in bad taste. The Chucky Cheese furry leotard she was wearing when she took the stage with all the gyrating teddy bears surrounding her was really something my nightmares are made of but really did she do anything worse than Lady Gaga, Britney Spears or Madonna? Hell, no. She just happens to be a little more in your face about it. Miley Cyrus doesn’t just want to shed her Disney skin, she apparently really wants to full on destroy it, runit over and then back over it a couple of times. She never wants to be confused with Hannah Montana again. I mean who honestly wants to be type cast as everyone’s favorite crooning, saccharin southerner with a penchant for bubblegum snark and getting into I love Lucy like trouble, for the rest of your life?
She is growing up. She is not married. She is young and she was having fun. Not to mention, do you really think this was all her idea? You think she choreographed and put it all together? NO! Some adult, who probably has children themself, is capitalizing on what very well could be her breakdown. Or maybe she is the sanest young star in Hollywood ever. I don’t know. Either way, I love her new song and I found the performance funny and entertaining. She is an entertainer, right? You’ve seen the video? WTF did people expect?
Robin Thicke, however, is a married, grown ass man with a child, he should not have been pushing up onto a 20-year-old. But no one is saying boo about his behavior. Did the penguin suit give him pedophile immunity?Are we really such a woman hating society that instead of feeling sorry for the hot mess Miley Cyrus’ life appears to be, we judge her with impunity.If we really gave a shit wouldn’t someone try to help get her back on track? Where are her parents? Where did her fiance go? Doesn’t she have any friends? Where the hell is Leslie? Can we just stop with all the judging, she is the one who is going to have to live with doing these things.
As someone whose already been through the finding yourself process, I know I did some stupid shit only my “twerking phase” was not televised and exploited. It was limited to a few hundred people at a club or at a frat party but I certainly did some embarrassingly stupid things in my day; way worse than twerking and sticking my tongue out while dry humping a foam finger. As a woman, I know the early 20’s is exactly when this happens. Freedom plus alcohol equals bad judgment.
As a mother of girls, I know this can happen to any of our daughters. Do I hope my girls don’t go through this phase? Yes, I hope they bypass it all together. Will they? Probably not. Will I shame them and mock them? Never. Will I worry? Of course. But most of all, I will be there to catch them when they fall. I will be their soft place to land and I pray it doesn’t all end up on the evening news.
Miley Cyrus is not some out of control twerking fool. She is just someone who is 20 trying to figure out who the hell she is. Robin Thicke, however, has blurred the line between what is sexy and what is full on pervy.
Think what you may, you will not soon forget the Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke VMA performance for years to come and to semi quote Kevin Hart,
“Miley Cyrus might need a pregnancy test after her performance with Robin Thicke.”
As I sit here on the precipice of a new decade, I can’t help but reflect on the past 10 years. Ten years ago, I was celebrating my second New Year’s eve as a married woman; the still newly dubbed Mrs. Beck. We were living in North Carolina for the first time ever. I was hundreds of miles from everything and everyone I had ever known. My life was changing in leaps and bounds. I was in my mid-twenties, starting a new graduate program at a new university, in a new state. It may as well have been a new part of the world. I was working in a new field, doing a job that I had never planned on doing. It was liberating and it was frightening. I was learning new things about myself daily. Up to that point in my life, I hadn’t really been living so much as traveling from point A to point B. Suddenly, I was left alone with just the Big Guy and my thoughts in my world. That was the year that I really began to define myself and learn to be not who everyone thought I should be but to become who I really was on the inside, free of any paradigm. It was exhilarating to discover the me buried under the sister, the daughter, the friend. The world was my oyster. Possibilities were endless and all I needed to do was figure out what I wanted to do with all this new found liberation from expectation.
Fast forward, 4 New Years later and we are celebrating our 5th year of marriage in our first home in Tennessee. We were 7 months pregnant with or planning to plan baby, Bella. My belly way burgeoning, my heart was bursting and I just knew in my heart that something astonishing was right around the corner in our lives. You know that feeling of excitement and fear that takes hold of you and then catapults you at lightning speed head first smack dab into the middle of your life? As you stand there looking down the barrel of the impending changes, your heart is racing but you are happy to be hurled. You take one last deep breath, step up to your turn and embrace it with a fervor, whatever may come. That is exactly where I was sitting on that New Years Eve. I had no concept what being a Mommy would feel like, what it would entail and the depth and breadth in which it would genuinely change my existence…the very way that I moved through the world.
Fast forward, 2 New Years later, the Big Guy, our then 18-month-old Bella and I sit in our second home… in Indiana. Again, I am sitting with a burgeoning belly and a bursting heart. We are expecting our second child and all is right in the world. What more could I want out of this world? My cup of life overflowed with love. At that moment, I felt like I had everything that I had ever imagined I could need in my life. People spend their entire lives searching for the kind of relationship that the Big Guy and I have together. To me, our girls were the living, breathing manifestation of all that love and respect that we have for one another. I sat there, fat and happy to be exactly in that moment.
Fast forward, 3 New Years later, the Big Guy and I are sitting in corporate housing with our two beautiful little girls in Virginia where we had recently moved. Life was chaotic and crazy and spinning a bit out of control. We had just started to adjust to the fact that we were again away from all family and friends with two very small children. We had spent the fall forging a new life for ourselves. Redefining borders and creating relationships with strangers, changing our perspectives and embracing change. We were blessed to have the opportunity to hit reboot even if it was forced upon us. Once again I was forced to take a hard look at myself and decide who I wanted to be in this world. It started an evolution revolution within myself. I began to realize that I had to be the change that I wanted to see in my world.I could either sit back and let life happen to me or I could jump up and make things happen for me. Last New Year set me up for becoming the person I never knew that I always wanted to be. It’s hard to feel sorry for yourself when you are blessed with so much in life. I only needed the moment of quiet change to realize it.
Tonight, a decade of New Years is coming to an end, a lifetime of change has taken place in my life in the last year alone. We, the girls and I, are living back in Indiana. The Big Guy no longer lives at home, due to job location. Luckily for me, we are actually more in love than that first New Years so long ago. He is my anchor in life, he keeps me grounded when I am about to fly off the deep end of reality. I’m his balloon, I lift him up when our circumstances pull him down. Our babies are now 3 and 5. I’m looking at them, as I type, and I can’t even believe it myself. They are so beautiful and perfect in the face of such craziness. The last year has not been easy but I think it made us all stronger. We were downsized, relocated, then the Big Guy has been away for the new job. Our lives have been in limbo and hell concurrently but you know what? It’s not impossible but its just the hardest thing I’ve ever done. This year, as difficult and testing as it has been, as much as I would not wish this kind of situation on anyone, it has made me once again aware of my blessings in triplicate. It’s given me an opportunity to focus on who I am. Who I want to be in the world. It has made me a stronger person, a more devoted wife, a more aware mother.I’ve made a lot of mistakes but I ‘ve also made a lot of hard decisions that have made our family better. I am a little worn for the wear but now I am focused. I am heading into the next decade with a renewed sense of self, a new determination to succeed, and a greater appreciation for the life and people that I have been blessed with in my life. What a difference a decade has made. I have come full circle and been made better in the journey. Next New year, I will be sitting someplace new but still with these 3 amazing people that I have been fortunate enough to spend the rest of my life with.
How was your past decade? What was the highest and lowest point? What will you do differently in the next decade? Happiest of New Years to you all and your families.
When I was a little girl, way back before I knew anything, I always imagined life and love to be just like every fairy tale that Disney spoon fed me as a child. It went a little something like this; I’d meet a boy, obviously he would be gorgeous, sensitive and funny. His most redeeming quality, he would recognize my absolute amazingness the moment we met. The relationship would be easy and comfortable but full of passion, almost immediately. He’d propose in some uber romantic way, taking my breath away, naturally. We’d have our huge white wedding, and we’d go off into the sunset and live happily ever after.Simple, right? Problem is that Disney forgot to provide some key elements of romance and romantic relationships. For instance, jerky boys, unrequited love, how sex influences relationships , crushs, heartache, heartbreak, other women, being at “different” places at different times, falling out of love, realizing that Mr. Right is usually not what you were expecting and that what you expect changes over time, the fact that life happens when you are planning to plan and never when you actaully planned it, love is a series of compromises and there are no winners or losers. Love is just two people trying to coexist in a rhythm, that children change absolutely everything about you, your relationship, and how you view the world. Marriage is hard, lots of work and an evolving situation..its like a ride on a roller coaster but it is totally worth it, with the right person.The last thing Disney forgot to tell us little girls, maybe the most important part of the story, is that when we ride off into the sunset it is usually the beginning of something and not the end. I guess I’ve been pretty blessed.I have the great guy but he’s not without his faults. After all, I never saw Prince Charming farting and leaving dirty socks scattered throughout the living room floor. Our relationship was comfortable..after about the 2nd year of marriage. We had the great big white wedding, but it put us into some debt and I was pretty snookered by the time I arrived at the reception. Lesson to my girls: No sleep+ no food+ nerves + alcohol = easily intoxicated bride. We did ride off into the sunset and 11 years, 21 jobs (between the 2 of us) 10 cities, 2 dogs, 2 cats, 7 vehicles, 2 houses, and 2 beautiful children later, we still work daily at our marriage. You really do get out what you put in, so I am all in. Luckily, at the point he and I met, we had learned from previous relationships what to and not to do. We realize what we have is rare and we work to nourish and grow it. In the end, I did get the fairy tale but only because I endured all the reality that comes with a relationship in the real world. My Prince Charming was everything that I never knew I always wanted. That’s the fairy tale that I want my girls to know. If they go out there thinking there is no work and everything just comes to you ( in love or life in general) they will miss out on many great possibilities.
Tonight is Halloween. Kids wait for this one day the other 364 days of the year. What would you do if tomorrow night your sweet little girl went up to a neighbor’s house trick or treating and instead of getting a treat, she got sized up by the neighbor and the neighbor handed her a letter explaining that she has surmised your child to be obese and you are a shitty parent for letting her get that way? NO.TREAT.FOR.YOU.FATTY! I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d march up to her house and stick my boot up her condescending ass and show her just how much I appreciate her advice.
Tomorrow night my girls are going trick-or-treating. They love Halloween, as does the Big Guy and myself. I love the whole season; the horror movies and the costumes and decorating our yard. It’s a fun holiday. There are no deep religious meanings that I need to worry about and the girls look forward to walking around the neighborhood showing off their costumes and getting treats from our neighbors.
My girls get about a bucket full of candy. They are allowed a couple pieces of candy per day for about two weeks and then the bucket gets taken into my husband’s office and made available to all the adults who need their sugary fix. I don’t see this kind of candy consumption as a problem. It is only once a year. My children aren’t diabetic, nor are they morbidly obese , they are healthy and active kids. A few pieces of candy is perfectly okay to me. Some people disagree and feel it is their personal moral obligation to stop overweight kids from themselves by refusing to give them treats.
Look, I think a child’s weight is the business of the child, their parent and their pediatrician. I am not a pediatrician nor am I a nutritionist so I would ever tell another parent what they should or shouldn’t feed their child and I would never punish a child who is heavy by telling them, “No, you’re too fat. You don’t need it!” because it’s cruel.
Her reasoning?
“I just want to send a message to the parents of kids that are really overweight,” she said. “I think it’s just really irresponsible of parents to send them out looking for free candy just ’cause all the other kids are doing it.”
This woman has no idea what is going on in these children’s lives. Maybe they have a glandular issue or are puffy from chemotherapy. Maybe this kid’s mom just died and he’s been eating his feelings. Maybe this little girl had eating disorders and has just recently been on a road to recovery. Or maybe it’s just none of her damn business. If she wants to be the part of the village that doesn’t contribute to the childhood obesity epidemic, maybe she should just turn off her damn light and not pass out candy to anyone. If she feels morally opposed to contributing to the obesification of our children, why not pass out healthy snacks? Pass out something other than candy? Or just don’t participate. But taking it upon yourself to withhold candy and dole out punishment for being overweight, seems like just going out of your way to be mean.
What do you think? What would you do if your child came back from someone’s door on Halloween with a note telling you that your kid is fat, she’s not getting a treat and you’re a sucky mom?
I am serious. I just got back from Boston and I have fallen madly, deeply and head over heels in love. The people, the food, the beautiful harbor and the accents that had me wanting to ask everyone I met to please say “The Hopper” it was my litmus test, the more “Ha-Pah” it was the more I loved it.
It was the first trip to Boston for the girls and I. We stayed at the Westin Waterfront Boston, which I would highly recommend because not only was it very clean it is conveniently within walking distance to the harbor, Faneuil Hall, The Freedom Trail, The Aquarium, Harbor Cruises, Boston Common and the Redline. It has amazing views of the Boston Skyline and the Harbor and let’s not forget about those “heavenly” beds that the Westin is famous for, which was like sleeping in a hug. The Westin Waterfront Boston also happens to not only house 3 great restaurants and a Starbucks and delicious room service, you are in walking distance to some of the greatest seafood in the country. They even helped me draft an itinerary specific to my children’s ages ahead of time. But more important than all of that, the staff and service is beyond anything I have ever experienced and I have stayed in some really upscale boutique hotels.
First, let me start by saying that this is NOT a sponsored post. I was not in Boston or the Westin Waterfront working with the hotel or the visitors bureau, the hole system is one of the most clean in town, thanks to the plumbers in vancouver that keep the maintenance going 24-7. I was there with my family, tagging along on a conference with my husband. I was having an adventure with my girls in my new favorite city. I never thought any city could beat my love for New Orleans or my hometown of Chicago but I was WRONG!
Being a blogger, I tweeted and Instagramed some of our trip to share with family and friends because I was so excited to be in Boston. This trip was almost 25 years in the making for me. I also tweeted before we left because I was sooooo excited to be finally going to Bean Town. There started my relationship with the Westin Waterfront Boston, like most of my relationships these days. Twitter was my introduction.
When we arrived, there were some of my children’s favorite snacks waiting for us in the room with the breathtaking view after a 14-hour drive in the car… with kids. The only thing that could have made it better was a Jameson and Ginger for mommy and daddy. We were exhausted and starving, so this was a welcome and unexpected surprise.
Oh wait let me back up, I forgot to tell you that the Saturday night we arrived in Boston, the Boston Westin Waterfront was hosting a Walking Dead Fan Convention. What? I can’t believe I didn’t know beforehand. I am a huge Walking Dead fan. I so would have gone zombie mom for it. Anyways, imagine my surprise when I walked into the Westin Waterfront looking like an unintentional walking dead in my traveling yoga pants and running shirt (because obviously I was working out in the car all the way there) and completely disheveled hair, no make-up wanting nothing more to get to my room (You know the feeling) when a very adorable, kind gentleman held the elevator for us, nodded and said have a good night. Turned out he was Jon Bernthal….effing SHANE from Walking Dead! WHAT?? He was not sporting the Shane haircut, but lighter hair, scruffilicious facial hair and its actually even more attractive in person than he ever appeared on the show. Of course, I saw him, thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place the face and as soon as the elevator doors shut, our bellman told us that there was a Walking Dead convention there all week and the place was crawling with Walking Dead cast. So, alas, no photo proof but the memory is mine forever.
Anyways, needless to say our trip started out with a bang and only went up from there. Too much information to share in one post, so I will be sharing travel tips for Boston in a series that I will run on Wednesdays for the next few weeks. But I can tell you this, growing up in the Chicago land area and traveling quite a bit in my life I can say that Boston had some of the kindest, most polite strangers I have ever met. It was apparent by strangers stopping during rush hour to point us in the right direction, explaining to us how the MBTA worked, chivalrous men giving us their seats on the subway/buses, hotel staff offering local restaurant favorites, one woman letting our child cut her in a very long line to the restroom so she wouldn’t pee on herself.
I won’t even tell you about Firefighter Jeremy Marrache at the Cambridge Firehouse who not only saved the day at Harvard by giving one of the girls a Band-Aid for her booboo but actually took the time to give the kids a tour, let them on the fire truck, wear gear and demonstrated how to slide the poll simply because 4 little kids wanted to in the middle of a hot Wednesday. It was a day the kids will never forget. Thank you FFOP Jeremy Marrache!
Yes, Boston and its people rocked my socks off. The awesome staff at the Westin Waterfront Boston who went above and beyond on the last night we were there. I tweeted a photo of my view from my bed where I was very sick with extreme dehydration from walking all day in the hot sun with only one Aquafina ( yes, poor choices were made, my friends), they surprised me by sending up room service with crackers, spring water, tea and a note telling me to feel better. Now, THAT is good customer service. It was simply one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me without being asked to so. That made me a Westin Waterfront Boston fan forever and I can’t say enough good things about them, not in a lifetime of telling you how great they were.
There is lots more to tell and I will be sharing all my tips for traveling to Boston as a family in the coming weeks. And, don’t think I’m not working on the Big Guy to make the move to one of the cleanest, friendliest and most fun and entertaining cities I’ve ever been to with my family. Can’t wait for our next adventure.
If you haven’t taken your family to Boston, what are you waiting for?
