The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Breaking up is hard to do
Breaking Up is hard to do~ We’ve all been there. That’s moment in a relationship when you know its not going anywhere, and its certainly not moving forward, that’s the moment that you know its over. Your challenge is to decide whether to let it die a slow painful death or to end it quickly, and just pull it off like a band aid on a hairy arm and pray for not too much collateral damage. After the breakup, you might even need some coping tactics, such as a breakup recovery course, just to revitalize yourself. We expect these situations when we are dating but not when we are play dating. But alas, it happens, and more often than not, I suspect.
It starts off innocent enough, you have a friend whom you know, however well, and one, or both of you, has the brilliant idea to form a sorority of friendship held together by the glue that is our children. Then one, or both of you, decides to enlist other friends or acquaintances into said group because, after all, the bigger the better. A seemingly perfect scenario of coffee amongst the pitter patter of little feet, quickly evolves into headaches amongst screaming children, at the very least. There you are with a group of strangers, that you may or may not have anything in common with, vying for one anther’s attention. People start to clique off but amongst it all there is an eerie façade of equal friendship. That “OMG, we are all so great. I love you all so much” bullshit that you keep spoon feeding one another because you are afraid if you are human and don’t love every single one of them, or at least pretend to do so, you will be known for the truly horrible bitch that you really are. It’s frigging high school with babies. Now, there are a lot of benefits to joining these groups for example; you meet women who are , at the very least, in the exact same situation as you are, as far as having children and raising them ( most times that is where the similarities end. It is sorta like lobbying to your family why you are dating a certain gentleman with the only weapon in your arsenal being that he is a human being. Not much of an argument after all).
Joining play date groups gives you an opportunity to get advice, share war stories, feel safe, get guidance in where to go and what to do with your lovely, beautiful fruit of your loins. It sounds fantastic doesn’t it? It also gives us a place to be judged at every choice we make concerning our children, its like inviting other women into your life and licensing them to insult you, not only with their words but with their thoughts and actions. After all, they are Super Moms and you are a mere human so if you don’t see it their way and have no remorse about your imperfection, well then , you deserved to be damned to hell. How could every single woman in the world not want this peace, loving ,warm ,frigging, fuzzy feeling? Have we been idiots up until now and where would we be? How would we function without the great invention of play dates?
We’d be happy and a lot less insecure and probably less judgmental and a little more caring and fulfilled. I love my “play date moms”, that’s what we refer to one another as because God, knows we seldom evolve past that point. If you can maintain superficial friendships, and hang out with women that you have nothing in common with ( other than both having children), and this doesn’t bother you…then play dates are the place for you. I have made a couple of truly remarkable friends amongst my “Play date Moms”. Real, honest to goodness friends who I would like whether they had children or not. It just helps that they have kids because that way we have one more thing in common( partial sanity) and we are in a similar place in our lives, which is always beneficial to a friendship . The other way around being friends only because you both have kids, is sorta like being friends because you both have brown hair or teeth. It’s ridiculous.
My experience has been not unlike that of my experience with my boyfriend at 15, somebody is crazy for somebody and someone else doesn’t care. You both start out in a relationship all excited about this journey and then about 15 minutes in , you realize that you are truly up a creek without a paddle; only it feels more like you’re in the ocean. One person wants to spend every waking moment together, infiltrating every single facet of your life and the other is running for their life in the opposite direction. It’s like there is no in between, there is no common ground so there is only one thing left to do, break up.
The word is so dreaded; all the connotations are negative. There is nothing positive about breaking up. It is admitting failure and you know how us women are, we hate that. So, we try to force them to break up with us, after all, we know we want out so they are not really ending it; we are, they just don’t know it. Seldom does that work. We try avoiding them, not returning phone calls, emails, we even simply just don’t show up. But it doesn’t work. You know why? Because she won’t give up either, she doesn’t want to admit failure that she couldn’t make this relationship work. It is a vicious cycle. The children are being drug all over town, why Mommies smile their Vaseline smiles with absolutely no sincere feelings , at all, behind them. Rooms are filled with the buzzing of absolutely nothing of importance being said, mixed with the latest gossip of those who had the misfortune of not attending and it is all thinly veiled as concern. Pish Posh , I say. Finally, some one’s got to be the adult and put an end to this madness. In your most grown up, unbiased, level headedness, you excuse yourself from the group. You simply inform them that though they are wonderful, (they are not for you:) something has come up and it is better to remove yourself from the play date roster. In the end, you are still going out revealed as the ” the truly horrible bitch that you are.” That which you tried to avoid from the get go. So, you see breaking up is sometimes almost impossible to do, even with the best intentions. Who knew breaking up with a group of ladies was going to be harder than breaking up with an obsessed 15 year old boy?
2009/05/27
Permission Granted
I don’t know about the rest of you, but some days I feel like I don’t know who I am. Not the familiar, my worlds turned upside down and inside out because I am so busy shuttling kiddies to and fro, and planning and prepping their lives but honest to goodness,”Who the hell is this person in the mirror? Who have I become?” Somewhere between not knowing what I wanted to be but anxious to take on the world with no fear of failure and now, I have evolved into some lesser form of myself. Definitely not who I hoped I would be or who I even thought I might be. I feel like I’ve gotten wrapped up in the day to day minutia of being a Mommy and wife and have sincerely forgotten how to be or even who “Debi’ is? Oh yeah, that’s me! I don’t look like I used to, who has time? My children always look impeccable, but sometimes ,I’m embarrassed to say, I look like I just don’t care. I do in fact care, but there is always so much to do and so little time, I end up at the end of my own list. And so I have decided that I am tired of being at the end of my own list, and I give you permission to do the same! Don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining. I am blessed with a wonderfully loving, caring husband and two beautiful, if sometimes a big whopping handful of craziness, daughters. Everyone is healthy and happy except for me. I am happy with what I have, but I started taking inventory and I am not happy with who I am and I can certainly stand to be in better shape. More importantly, I am not happy with the role model I am for my girls. They say a daughter’s father is her role model of what a man should be and how men should treat women, and we have discussed this and my husband is fully aware of his behavior and how it affects what our daughters will look for and expect from the men in their lives. He is a great model of what they should demand from their partners. Now, they ( by they I mean studies have shown:) also say that a daughter’s mother is her role model of how she should treat herself. That is huge and it has hit me like a ton of bricks. Do I want my daughters to grow up thinking that they should be at the bottom of their own list? Certainly not. I want them to have it all. I want them to have the wonderfully loving and caring husband, the awesomely loved and healthy children, and I want them to know its OK to take time for themselves because they are as important as everybody else in their lives. I want them to know that they can be and do anything that they have the desire to do. I have been so caught up in being the perfect Mommy that I have forgotten to be the perfectly strong woman, to be happy with who I truly am, to be my best me. This has been the catalyst to my new quest. I am going to take time for me. I am going to take the time to workout and put on make up. I’m going to make time to fix my hair and read a book. I find myself going through the motions when it comes to myself. I mean, come on, in what world is it acceptable for grown women to use a ponytail as an excuse for a hair style? None, I am pretty sure that if it were up to my husband, he’d cut it off while I slept except for the fear that my hair would look even worse with a chunk missing. I suppose its the same world where we occasionally think there is an acceptable reason that we can allow ourselves to wear our pajamas when we drop our kids off to school. I personally have never done this one but have seen it done many times and ,God knows, I am guilty of trying to rock the ponytail at the age of 36. And aren’t those “yoga pants” just a clever marketing ploy to allow us to wear our pajamas in public without wearing our pajamas in public? The scary thing is that this is all acceptable to us Mommies until we spend a little time with our single or non Mommy friends. Then it hits us, “Wow, look at her hair, with the great style, and the highlights that don’t start 2 inches from the crown!” This is usually accompanied by a wonderful manicure and pedicure, remember those? I used to love those. And of course she is wearing something that fits appropriately, is actually in style “this” year, and doesn’t have food, smudge, spit up or any other sticky baby residue on it. And of course, her face is flawless and rested ,with no signs of circles under her eyes, because she actually slept the night before. Those are the times when I am left feeling a little short. Which is crazy because I used to have and do all those things and I have a masters and can speak 4 languages but ,yet, I feel embarrassed. I feel like I snuck into the party and am waiting to be found out. Any minute, all the people in the real world are going to be like “Hey, aren’t you suppose to be at that ‘other’ party over there? The one with all the ponytails and pajamas!” Really, I am lucky because the party with the ponytails is where all the fun is.That’s where my kids are at, but sometimes I want to be able to go to the grown up party and I want the transition to be seamless. The whole appearance thing is just a part of it. It is symbolic of the rest of the package that is me. I’d occasional like to be able to have a conversation with an adult about something other than what our children are doing. Maybe do something that utilizes some of that education that I have acquired. I need to create a solution and only I can do it, because it’s my problem. I’m the one who has let myself become a second class citizen in my own world. Remember the good old days when you had the time and energy to actually figure things out or put the effort in to fix those things in your life you were wanting to be better? That’s why I have decided that I have to make time to take care of me, or I am not as good as I could be for everyone else. I am going to pursue my dreams with all the passion that I have pursued acquiring perfection as a Mommy. I know that being a Mommy is the most important thing that I will ever do, because to me, there is nothing more important than raising great human beings that are an asset to the world but part of that is raising strong women who have a strong sense of self. So, in order not to fail them and myself, I have given myself permission to make myself a priority in my own life…at least one of the top 3:) Here’s to being who we really are, and being a priority in our own lives! Now, go forward and take the time to find yourself again; permission granted!
2009/07/17
Fashion Police, Puh-Lease!
There is nothing quite as sobering as walking around a “fashion” mall after having children. Instantly, I am aware that since having my children, my body has shifted and contorted in ways that no longer allow “fashion” to fit me the way it used to ~ the way it’s supposed to…the way in which it would actually look “fashionable”. No, instead I end up looking like a sausage in an ill fitted casing..in silk bloomers. Let’s just call it what it really is #Fashionfail.
Next, I realize that since having my girls, I don’t actually have any extra money lying around to afford high “fashion”. Hell, I can’t even afford a low fashion makeover. Well, that is NOT entirely true. I can afford it. Or I could, if all my assets were fluid and not tied up in, oh I don’t know, private school tuition, ballet, soccer, headbands, tutus, kids concerts, enough toys to fill my very own Toys R Us, organic food, $8 gallons of milk, doctors, dentists, clothing and shoes for said children.It’s like a gave birth to two of the most adorable little money pits on the face of the earth. I give willingly but at times, like my visit to the “fashion” mall, I am slapped across the face with my sacrifices.
Finally, I try to just give in and let myself visit a place I’ve not been in many years..you know what I’m talking about. That place in your mind where you gingerly ( as if I’ve been able to gingerly do anything since having kids) linger over beautiful clothes, outfitting yourself in your head. Perusing books and art. Fingering the purses and admiring the shine of some audaciously over priced piece of silver jewelry. You know, something oh so Bo-Ho chic.Trying on multiple pairs of lovely shoes in every possible style, color and heel height available. You remember, pull back ..way back, into the recesses of your mind…shopping. Ahhhh, exhale.Isn’t it absolutely fabulous? I used to be that woman who would shop all day long, until I found the perfect ensemble. The perfect piece of jewelry. The perfect heel. I thrived there, between the racks and amongst the other shoppers.So, when I walked into Anthropologie ( already devastated at my state of affairs) you can imagine the deflated feeling that overcame me when the moment I eyeballed something of splendor…my 3 year old began to whine. The Big Guy heavily sighed in aggravation and my 5 year old said, “I want to go someplace else!” Apparently, I am not even allowed the simple courtesy of being able to window shop in peace. They have taken one of my most sacred past times and turned it to shit….in a matter of minutes.
I left thinking, forget the fashion mall, who needs a $300 shirt anyways? Nobody NEEDS it but damn it, what I wouldn’t give to have the option to decide of my own volition if I even wanted to buy the damn thing.On most days, I LOVE my girls so much that I can’t stand it. But after the trip to the “fashion” mall, I can’t decide if I’m excited for them to be teenagers and enjoy “shopping” with me (of course, then I still won’t be able to shop because again I will be buying everything for them) or perhaps, I am excited for them to be excited to shop so that I can return the favor and NOT let them enjoy their shopping experience. Turn about has to be fair play in motherhood, right? I mean, my mom wished on me a child exactly like me and I got two. The least I can do is dole out some karma, right? Isn’t that my Mommy duty?

2011/04/11
My Daughter Loves Me, the In Between Years
It’s been a weird time over here, my daughter is growing up at an alarming rate ( both of them) and I feel like I’m physically, falling apart over the last few months. One has nothing to do with the other. But it just gives some background to my state of mind…vulnerable.

We’ve had growth spurts and growing pains and I’ve just waiting for my girls to hit that age where suddenly I am their least favorite person in the world and I’ve been dreading it because honestly, aside from the Big Guy, these two are my favorite people in the world. Have been since the moment they were born. Sure, I have moments when I don’t really like their behavior and I’m not particularly fond of the eye rolling and sarcastic tones that have been making an appearance at my house lately, but God, I adore these girls.

Lately between the bickering between the two of them and the moments of wondering if boarding school might be a better option for my sanity, I’ve been at the end of my parenting rope. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and outnumbered and, worse, disrespected. It’s been hard trying to get my bearings in this new stage of parenthood. I’ve been solidly knocked off my axis. But suddenly, there’s been a shift.

Through it all, I’ve been sticking to my guns and no matter what transpires, my girls always know they are loved; no matter how unlovable they are behaving that day. My oldest, who is only 11, has been exerting her independence for the past couple of years trying to separate from me. I feel it. It’s natural but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It does, like a son of a bitch and this is coming from a broad who has had unmedicated transition labor, a severely broken and shattered leg and relentless gallbladder attacks. My girls pulling away hurts more than any of that ever did. I was sure this was the beginning of the end.

I’m not so old that I don’t remember that phase in my life when I tried to separate from my mom; the teen years. I was awful and I didn’t even understand what it was about my mom that was so annoying. I just knew that every word she tried to tell me, annoyed me. I know now that it wasn’t her at all, it was me. I was growing up, and asserting my independence was just part of that. Being a complete asshole to my mom, that was just me taking it to the next level. Sorry, mom!

Anyways, my Bella, she’s been giving me the “ you don’t know anything” look. I know it well. I gave it. I could feel her pulling away. One day, she would barely speak to me then suddenly, the next she was trying to match me in outfits. I was so confused. Did she hate me or did she think I was “cool”? Was she messing with me? Adolescence is so confusing and puberty makes it all 1000x worse.

I’ve been holding my ground. No matter how awful she is to me, every night I go into her room and kiss her goodnight and tell her that I love her. Every morning when I drop her off at school, I kiss her goodbye and tell her (and her sister) that I love them. I’m relentless with this because I never want them to doubt that or themselves.

Over the last couple of months, I noticed that my daughter has been making a return to me. I know she’s only 11 and there is so much more of this pulling away to come but for now, she has become my biggest advocate. When her little sister starts to argue with me or talk back, my oldest has been intervening. I told her to stop because I don’t want it to cause a rift between her and her sister but I appreciate it. It was nice that she took the initiative to have my back. I appreciate that she cared enough to step in.

She’s been pointing out the similarities in our physical traits and wanting to emulate me. There’s been a shift from “leave me alone” to “can I spend some time with you, mommy” and I’m not ashamed to say that I love it. She loves me and she’s not afraid to show me. She’s stopped resisting the fact that I’ll never stop loving her.

I really think it has a lot to do with me being consistent. She knows my unconditional love means giving her what she needs of me, and that might not always be what she wants from me but she knows that she always has me on her side.

Anyways, with months upon months of crazy stuff going on lately (like seriously, I must have pissed someone off who gave me the evil eye or I accidentally came into possession of some tiki a la The Brady Bunch). All I know is that among broken legs, attacking gallbladder and too many other craptastic things to mention, it is awesome to feel the love from my daughters.

What’s the one time you really needed some love/kind word/smile/something good to happen and it did? Isn’t it amazing how it can change everything?
2016/04/20
Grades are Ruining Education
Do you worry about your child’s grades? Last week we attended annual Parent/Teacher conferences for our girls. They are always fairly uneventful. We go, the teachers tell us how good our girls are doing and we all go home and pat ourselves on the back. There are never any surprises.
We usually have a report card for the first quarter in hand before we ever meet with the teachers. It’s hard to argue with high honors. Mind you, we don’t necessarily want constant approval. In fact, I think parent/teacher conferences should be like managerial review meetings. Tell me 3 great things about child and then give her 2 goals of improvement to work towards. I want my child to feel challenged, not complacent because I know complacency and boredom is a recipe for trouble and failure in the long run.
This year my daughter’s 5th grade teacher threw us a curveball. She had our girl assess herself. Not surprising, my daughter marked herself “average” on all accounts. Average because we have expectations for her education that are based on more than just grades. Our expectations include love of learning, understanding concepts and being challenged. Grades are just a superficial quantification of learning. We know this.
I was raised to always strive for my best. I competed with myself. I still do because my toughest competition is myself and I want to be motivated by myself not out of envy or jealousy of someone else, it’s not healthy. This is what I have instilled in my girls. This is what my parents instilled in me.
Do grades really quantify an education?
When I was a child, I remember bringing home straight A’s and my dad asking why they were not all A+s. I remember feeling deflated. This turned me into a perfectionist and left me feeling unsatisfied in a lot of ways because I always felt like I let myself down and worse like I had let my parents down. I never wanted my girls to feel that way.
I never ask why a grade is not better. I am always proud of them and I ask them why they think a grade is what it is but mostly I just keep my eye on it and make sure that I put a little extra time in reviewing homework so I can find out and gently help them gain confidence and mastery in whatever the deficit or concept that is lacking is in. This has worked pretty well for us. I know that there is more that I can do but, for now, this is how the Big Guy and I address grades.
Imagine my surprise at the parent/teacher conference when the aforementioned 5^th grade teacher, chuckled at my daughter when she answered “average” and then corrected her by saying, “if the other students listened/paid attention even 1/3 as much as you do you do, I would be happy. You, my dear, are most certainly “Above average!” My daughter looked confused, as was I.
I know, you are thinking, just shut up and be happy but what you don’t realize are few things 1) I was getting my masters in early education when I had my first child 2) I worked in education for 10 years 3) that teacher just completely undermined the expectations we had set for our daughter 4) in an instant, the teacher has lowered my daughter’s expectations for herself by making her effort seem overdone.
I’ve never liked rating/grading scales in education because really, what do they measure? It’s a moving scale. This is why we put in place expectations of our children, other than grades themselves. I want my children to feel proud and accomplished for thinking, for learning for craving more knowledge. It’s not just about a grade. I don’t want my children to be afraid to feel challenged. I want them to be exhilarated by it.
And before you start thinking I’m one of those mom’s who thinks their children are “gifted”, I don’t. I do think they are smart and capable of more than the expectations the school is setting for them. Of course the school is only responsible for passing grades, it’s my job as their mother to advocate for them and teach them to expect more from themselves than just “average”.
My daughter said, “average” because she knows that the effort that she is giving is not her best. Granted maybe a well-behaved child, who listens, pays attention and engages 97% of the time is better than the average student for that teacher, but it is not better than my daughter’s average and my daughter knows that.
I found myself to be completely annoyed by this teacher. I think she could have told my daughter that she thinks she is doing great without going so far as to say, “compared to the other students” because I’ve not taught my daughters to give a flip about what others are doing. I don’t teach my daughters to gauge their success by someone else’s failures only by their own feeling of satisfaction.
As a mom, I believe my number one purpose is to love my daughters but it is also my responsibility to encourage them to go after their dreams, honor their commitments and think for themselves. I’m doing my best but it’s hard because parenting is not an exact science.
What do you think? Do our expectations for our children distort their expectations of themselves? Is it better to encourage our children to strive for their own personal best?
How important do you think grades are to your child’s education?

2015/11/03
Pumpkin Spice Cheesecake Recipe
Pumpkin spice cheesecake is the epitome of autumn to me.
It encompasses all that is amazing about fall; the colors, the smells, the tastes and triggers the memories of coming home, being home and being loved.
Every fall, the world transforms into a menagerie of splendid shades of greens, yellows, ambers, browns and reds. The leaves are dying, but to me, it feels like the world is coming to life in all it’s vibrant glory. I was born in the fall and it holds a special place in my heart.
I live for the crispness of the cool autumn mornings, the soft afterglow of that illuminates the world on an autumn afternoon and the sky, ever clear holding court with all the stars in the heavens. There is nothing that I don’t like about autumn.
I love the warm colored clothes that we pile on layer after layer. I love the sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet as I walk through the park. The smells of chili and soups being made. I love my children running towards me with slightly red noses for hugs after school. I love cuddling in close to the Big Guy to stay warm. There isn’t really too much that I can say bad about autumn. I love it all.
I enjoy those last moments of clarity before the chaos of the holiday season begins. When I think of fall, I think of all the good things that are about to transpire; my birthday celebrated with loved ones, sipping coffee and making real connections with all the amazing friends who live in my computer at conferences, back-to-school, Halloween, pumpkin carving and trick-or-treating with my little girls, giggles echoing into the crisp night air.
I think of my niece’s first birthday party, I think of Thanksgiving and all of our family ( both sides) talking, laughing and bonding while the smells of turkey and pumpkin pie waft through our home. I get the warm fuzzies knowing that in just 3 short months, after months of rehearsals, my daughters will take the stage to perform in the Nutcracker. My heart is full and it leaps with joy each time they perform.
Autumn reminds me that Christmas eve is right around the corner. A night spent playing charades, exchanging hugs and hearing stories told to my girls from the lips of their Great Aunt Maxie and their Great Grandmother of their childhood in Canada. Seeing all that love and watching our girls excitedly force themselves to sleep contrary to what all the excitement of Santa dictates, knowing that the next day, there will only be more warmth.
I love receiving the homemade gifts that my girls hand make with love each year because I know the time, effort and love that goes into every second of it’s making. I love watching their faces as they open their gifts. The laughter and excitement. I love the big breakfast of gravy and biscuits or creme brûlée french toast. The smell permeates our home like an old familiar friend. And from there it’s another couple weeks of family, food and love and that is what these first crisp mornings of autumn remind me of.
I’ve already started craving all the autumn dishes, the warm fuzzy feelings, and so here is a recipe sure to make your stomach and your heart happy. It will satisfy.
International Delight Pumpkin Spice Cheesecake
Ingredients
For the crust
- 2 cups of graham cracker
- 1 stick (8 tablespoons) butter, melted
- 4 tablespoons sugar
- 4 tablespoons brown sugar
For the filling
- 12-ounces cream cheese, softened to room temperature
- 10-ounces pumpkin puree
- ¾ cup International Delight pumpkin pie spice creamer
- 1 1-ounce package cheesecake-flavored instant pudding mix
- 10-ounces of sweetened condensed milk
- 1 12-ounce container Cool whip topping
Instructions
1. Place the graham cracker crumbs in the bowl. Add the melted butter, sugar and brown sugar and combine.
2. Spoon the crumbs into individual plastic cups (or into a 8 x8 casserole dish). Place in the refrigerator to set while you are preparing the filling.
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese until light and creamy.
4. Add the pumpkin, pumpkin pie spice creamer, and pudding mix. Beat until completely mixed, scraping down the sides and bottom of the bowl to ensure that all ingredients are combined.
5. Add the sweetened condensed milk and mix again until thoroughly combined.
6. Change your stand mixture attachment to the wire whisk. On slow speed, fold in Cool Whip.
7. Allow the mixture to sit in the refrigerator for about an hour to firm up.
8. Spoon pumpkin mixture over the graham cracker crust and refrigerate until ready to serve.
9. Garnish with drizzled caramel for an extra decadent dessert or with a dollop of whipped topping.
10. Serve with a smile and enjoy.
What is your favorite thing about the autumn season?
This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of International Delight. The opinions and text are all mine.
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2014/09/24
Money Isn’t Happiness, Family Is
As part of a compensated collaboration with Sears and Latina Bloggers Connect I have been asked to share my thoughts and opinions on this video with you.
When I saw the above video, I teared up because who doesn’t want to do something to repay their parents for all that they’ve done for us growing up? And what’s not to love about giving back? When I was a child my mother always told us that it was better to give than to receive and I always thought she was just telling me something to make not getting something seem more palatable but she was on to something.
We grew up blue collar so there wasn’t a lot of “fun”money. There were no private schools, ballet classes or instruments being learned. My children have these things because I didn’t. So I worked doubly hard to give them these opportunities. Just like my parents worked so that I could have more than they did. They sacrificed everything for us. I went to college and grad school because that’s what my parents wanted for me. They both only graduated high school.
There were 6 children. My mom stayed home. My parents never got to do anything for themselves, it was always about providing for us, even if they had to go without and I guess it rubbed off on me. Don’t worry, I’m not missing meals or denying myself the simple pleasures like the occasional conference trip, but my parents did for us. As a grown up, I wanted to repay my parents for all that they had given us. I know, it’s impossible to repay a debt to someone who has given you life but I didn’t want them to have to go without, not ever again. So, I get where the girl in this video was coming from. One of the first thing I did when I had the money was buy my parents their wedding bands because they got married young and had children almost immediately, there was never any extra money for something like jewelry. I know it’s just a trinket but it was a big deal to them because it was something they had denied themselves.
Sears has produced a video series called More To You featuring surprises with real people, based on real tweets from people who want to give more to the ones they love.
In the video above, Sears visited Jasmine, a young woman who wanted to do something special for her hard working father. Little did Jasmine know that he had a surprise for her as well.
Want Sears to give more to you like they did for Jasmine and her dad? Tweet @Sears with #MasDeLoTuyo and Sears just might give more to you or allow you to give back to those who matter the most to you.
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2014/09/17
Your Period, When God Shivs You in Your Lady Bits

Your period, that magical time of month when everything in the world irritates you.
Remember when you were in 7^th grade, way back before your mom would allow you to wear those whorish tampons that all the “cool” girls were wearing? Remember the good old days of wearing maxi-pads that had wings and were as big as a 747? Way before “First Moon Period Parties.” Back when your period, snuck up on you like a ninja and shivved you, usually someplace public, when you least expected it like right in the middle of confirmation or during your first boy/girl dance. Then you bled out like the near survivor of a shark attack? Way before your lady bits had a one of a kind special delivery in the mail each month.Hello aunt Flo, how the hell are ya? Yeah, good times.
Remember wearing a sweater “just in case” you had to McGyver it into an “accident” hiding cover up because you wore WHITE pants to school during your PERIOD? Yeah, me too. Puberty sucked for me. Besides the sprouting of all the hair in all the weird places and boobs growing (or not) you felt like a freak with pimples, greasy hair and if you were really lucky braces. But even with all of this, there was one silver lining …the missing of the gym class, more specifically swimming. You got to instead sit in the bleachers and hang with the other afflicted girls.
In middle school I was an awkward, gangly thing of a girl who had a growth spurt in every direction. I lost my center of gravity and any shred of self-esteem went into witness protection. But the period, as new and disgusting as it was to me in those first months, saved me from having to put on a bathing suit and jump in the water, emerging like the worlds ugliest drowned rat because, oh yeah, my dad wouldn’t let me shave my legs so, well, you can imagine what all that hair looked like wet. I did what any Latina girl my age would do, I grew a small mustache to distract people from everything else. No, not really. Not on purpose anyways. At least in regular gym class, I could cover it all up with nifty 1980’s tube socks.
From the moment I figured out that my “period’ could get me out of swimming, I immediately had at least 2 a month. That was 2 weeks a month of sitting on the bench writing notes and talking about boys. It was glorious while it lasted and then in 8^th grade I got a female gym teacher who I’m certain charted my cycle because it was back to one week on the bench and 3 looking like a drowned Mexican rat. Once again and for the next 28 years, my period never got me out of anything. In fact it got me into a lot of hard work, what with all the sex, pregnancies and children and all. Until today.
My period rescued me and used its power for good and not evil, for once.
In the past year, my girls have really begun to understand puberty and what is going to happen thanks to our dog who went into heat. They both know that the hair, boob fairy and period are all on its way. I’ve also assured them this is all very natural and I will make sure that they have all the necessary items available, including a razor, an aesthetician for those out of control eyebrows and lip hair, Midol, a good bra and dark chocolate. We are prepared.
Then this morning, I woke up feeling more than a little crampy on day 4 of flood gate shark week so I said to the girls, “ Girls, I don’t think we can go to the pool today. “ It was met with the expected, whiney, “WHY??????” (because to be honest they beg me daily to go to the pool, rain or shine) and I calmly told them the truth. “Well, I’m having my period and it’s one of those “heavy” days. I’m feeling really crampy and I just don’t think my tampon would survive the walk down to the pool.” To which my 7-year-old ( yes, the same one who yelled that I was going into heat once before in a public restroom) knowingly shook her head, turned to her sister and said, “See, mom’s going through puberty again.” Then she said, “It’s okay mommy. That would be gross. Let’s do crafts.” No argument, no long sigh, no whining.
I don’t know about you but I’m thinking I might be having two periods a month again. I figure she’s got at least 4/5 years before she figures out any different. God, I love being a woman.
Period party, anyone?
2014/07/02
The Krims, Zach Sobiech & Daryl Raetz: From Tragedy Comes Inspiration
There is no Throat Punch today. There has been so much sadness this week, so many bad things happen every single day. Today, I need a little sunshine, so I’ve decided to share a couple uplifting stories that just might give you a little perspective.
Oklahoma was devastated and leveled by a tornado that took from it some of it’s most precious residents but there are people all over the country who are rallying together to bring them relief. There is human kindness to follow every tragedy, as there is sunshine and rainbows to follow the rain. That is good news. Here are some more stories of inspiration.
The parents of Lulu and Leo Krim, the two beautiful children slain by their nanny last fall, Marina and Kevin Krim are expecting another child. If anyone ever needed a new baby, that family needs a tiny new miracle. They deserve every ounce of happiness that baby will bring into their life. This rainbow baby is just what they need. I’ve never been so excited for complete strangers to be pregnant.
There is a little girl, Tatum Raetz, in Phoenix Arizona who lost her father, Officer Daryl Raetz, over the weekend in the line of duty. Early Sunday morning, Raetz, 29, was killed by a hit-and-run driver while working a DUI investigation.
Yesterday, the 5-year-old had her kindergarten graduation and hundreds of Phoenix police officers converged on a her Valley school Wednesday morning in a show of support for one of their own.
Because her father couldn’t be there, her Phoenix Police Department family showed up to stand in his stead and celebrate Tatum.
“She had 300, 400 parents up here for her this morning,” Officer James Holmes said. “It was absolutely amazing. It was bittersweet and it was a bit overwhelming for all of us.”
Officers lined the sidewalk clapping for Tatum and congratulating her as she and her mother walked into the school for the graduation ceremony. Inside the auditorium, it was standing room only with a sea of blue in the back and along the side of the room.
And if that hasn’t lifted your spirits enough for today, there is a family in Minnesota who lost their precious 17-year-old son to cancer on May 20, 2013 but what an amazing boy he was. He lived every single day like he was dying and though he may be gone; he will not soon be forgotten. We should all hope to leave a legacy of love and integrity that Zach Sobiech has left. Do yourself a favor watch the video. It will change you.
There are good people in the world. It’s not all about the throat punches and cruel inhumanity of random acts of disaster. The world is a beautiful place filled with amazing people with stories that will touch and change you. You only need to stop being angry long enough to see past the fear and hurt and chaos.
Be good to each other and live every day like you are dying. Tell those around you how much they mean to you. Tell your loved ones that you love them. Hold their hand. Snuggle them tight and carry on. Choose to be happy. Choose to see the good in people. Embrace your life, as it is don’t wait for something to change to be worthy for love. Just do it. Forget the rest.
Today, I am grateful for babies being born, my two beautiful girls who fill my heart and life with love every single day, for my husband who is truly my better half on most days, for little girls on big stages dancing their hearts out in their tutus, old friends and best friends who are more like family who know you and love you in spite of yourself, for family who have spent this week ( this entire month) celebrating with us. I am so blessed to have you all. To friends near and far, IRL and online, who make my life sweeter by being part of it. Today, I am thankful to be alive to enjoy this great, big beautiful, chaotic life.
What are you thankful for today?
2013/05/23
Finding the Extraordinary in the Ordinary Moments of Childhood
I have been finding that the extraordinary moments in motherhood are the ordinary moments of childhood. There is magic in the laughter and giggles of my girls, there are infinite possibilities in the wonder of first steps and words and discovering the world with fresh eyes is like accomplishing the impossible. Watching my girls grow and be in the world, reminds me daily that I am blessed to have happy and healthy children. It’s apparent how amazing they are in everything from how they dance like no one is watching to listening to them fantasy play but no where is the magic more apparent to me than when I watch them love and interact with one another. THAT is extraordinary.
I have two daughters who are 2 years and 2 months apart in age. They are best friends and fiercest of allies. Sometimes they are arch nemesis, depending on the day or the hour but the one thing that remains the same is that even when they don’t very much like one another, they constantly and abidingly love one another as they love themselves. It is one of the purest and most beautiful things that I have ever witnessed.
I grew up with 6 brothers and sisters and they are my closest and dearest friends as adults but I remember there being a lot of bickering and annoying going on when we were growing up. I had my siblings but then I had friends and at the time, I was closer to my friends but not my girls, from the beginning it has been a “together forever, best friends till the end situation.” They do everything together and they like it. I think there is comfort in having their sister by their side, a security in knowing that someone always has their back no matter what life may throw at them. I have intentionally fostered this relationship because I never want them to lose that feeling. They should always know that whatever happens between them as they grow old, boys will come and go, clothes can be replaced, dents in cars can be buffed out but a sister’s love is unconditional and unending.
From the day we brought Gabs home, Bella has adored her. Always trying to protect and shield her from the hurts of the world and Gabs has always reciprocated by wanting to be just like her sister, even when she can’t stand the sight of her, she wants to be right beside her. It’s a perfect and beautiful relationship and I think it’s made them both better versions of themselves, one trying to be a good example and the other trying to measure up. The first time they were separated, when Bella started school, Gabs fell on the ground and sobbed as if someone had stolen her best friend because in her world that is exactly what had happened. When we picked Bella up from school that day, Gabs ran to her and hugged her as if she were welcoming her back from many years away at war. It solidified the relationship. My heart was full and happy because I know that they have one another.
This has born several occasions throughout their short lives where one has put herself in the line of fire to protect her sister. They remind me of those old couples you see on the boardwalk at age 95, still walking hand in hand loving one another more than they did the day they met. They are truly best friends. I look forward to the years of sharing the special moments together like weddings, babies and all the success that live throws at them. But I am glad they have one another for the not so great moments of life too like heartbreak, long nights with colicky babies, health scares and ultimately the death of their father and I.
My children are extraordinary because they are fierce in their love for one another and they are one another’s best friends and biggest cheerleaders ( aside from their father and I that is) but there are some things that you can only share with a sister and for those things, I am thankful they share this amazing bond.
I made this video #myextraordinarykid highlighting some of the extraordinary things about my girls. Your kid is extraordinary too. Show them how much you enjoy every moment together by creating a special video of your own!
The moments that count I was selected for this opportunity as a member of Clever Girls Collective and the content and opinions expressed here are all my own.
2014/06/26