The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Best Gifts to Get New Moms or Any Moms for Practically Free
This is not your traditional gift guide for moms. It’s not specific to cool moms, crunchy moms, tech moms, teen moms or even girl moms. Nope, this is the perfect gift guide for all moms of all ages with kids of all ages and any sex. These are proven gifts for moms that are approved by, you guessed it, moms. But before I tell you the Best gifts to get new moms or any moms, read below.
Let me tell you a little story, the other day, I was talking to my therapist (physical, not mental) who just became a dad for the third time. Nice guy. Cute kids, 3 under 3 and an amazing wife who just gave birth to all three children in three years. They’re both probably in their early 30’s. Our conversation inspired me to write this gift guide because, from my perspective of the hard-earned wisdom of the school of been there done that, I realized that men are clueless.
READ ALSO: Gift Guide for Women who love tech and pretty things
I’m not saying this in a mean or ugly way. I’m saying it in the way that men are from Mars and women are apparently, from Venus ( more like women are from earth and men have no clue). While we may be on similar paths in life, they are most definitely perpendicular and not parallel. We ay accidentally cross paths in our way of thinking occasionally but for the most part, we are miles away. We interest but it’s not the same life, not even the same world.
I’m not trying to bad mouth this guy or any man for that matter, I’m just saying that we don’t share the same experience. At all. A few years ago, I was shocked to find out that men are never afraid to walk alone, outside after dark like EVER. Never. They are not phased in the slightest. Meanwhile, I’ve never felt comfortable walking alone at night and sometimes not even in the daytime, depending on where I am and what I’m doing. Men are fearless because they are at the top of the food chain. They’re doing the accosting. No one is accosting them. Women, well, it’s the men’s world and we’re just living it, unfortunately. Forget about the fact that we’ve given birth to them ( they’ve forgotten) and just know that they view us as other if they see us at all.
READ ALSO: Standing up for my girls no matter the cost
My therapist and I were talking about how they’ve been having a hard time sleeping ( 3-week old baby) and he said, “she’s been a bit tired and grumpy” ( no shit, new baby exhaustion is real especially when you’re chasing after 2 other toddlers in a damn pandemic.) Anyway, I digress. My point is that she was a little curt because she was new mom tired and she needed help.
Somehow we got on the subject of people needing space (an hour or so to decompress from their family and work, how I walk for an hour every day alone). I gently suggested that on the weekends he let his wife nap and his life would be easier because a rested mom is a happier one. He thought I was suggesting for him to get some time to himself. He was telling me how important his soccer weekends were to him. I gently, reminded him, “Yeah, your wife needs that too. Moms always need time, even if it’s just to drink our coffee or run to Target. Just because we don’t complain doesn’t mean we’re not tired.”
He answered me, “No, she loves being a mom.” That’s when I realized that it was my civic duty to save this perfectly decent man from fucking up his marriage.
READ ALSO: How Scrambled Eggs Saved my Marriage
Dude we all love being a mom but we also love being ourselves, being treated as humans; seen as something other than the help. We are not the live-in nannies, who also cook and clean so that you can spend your weekends golfing, playing soccer or call of duty. Repeat after me; My wife loves her children but she needs breaks. I love her so I must give her the opportunity to rest and breathe. No one can run on full blast at all times without burning out.
In case you don’t believe me, that we are all exhausted, even those of us who love what we are doing and being a mom, I just received this text. She’s a mom and a doctor who has been working almost constantly lately treating CoVid patients in her overcapacity hospital.
“I worked overnight and slept for 2 hours so I could get up and entertain the kids. I’m exhausted. It would be so nice to have a minute where the kids aren’t telling me how bored they are or the husband wasn’t sulking about a couple of days without sex. I wish I could have half an hour to myself instead of trying to please everyone else.”
Best gifts to get new moms or any moms
A day of rest
Even God took a day off. Maybe it sounds too simple or maybe you just don’t want to do it because you’ve worked all week and you want your days off to be relaxing. Great, I get it but how is it fair that you get 2 days off a week and she gets no days off ever? Think about it. Split the days; 1 for each.
Quiet time alone
Take the kids somewhere; anywhere. Quiet time is in high demand and there is never enough of it. Just tell her to take an hour and put on her headphones, sit in the car or go for a walk and enjoy not being the person in charge of meeting everyone’s needs for just a little while.
A spa day
This is a real luxury because, after kids, money and time are both things moms never have enough of. Moms tend to always put themselves last and a spa day, is not only good for the body, but it’s also pretty amazing for the soul too. Let her be a woman of leisure for just a few hours. Plus, relaxing is a superego boost for moms and if she feels prettier, sexier, more relaxed…you will benefit from it.
A girl’s night
I didn’t get a girl’s night until my girls were already 5 and 3-years-old. I kept telling myself that I didn’t need it. Then, my husband basically forced me out one night and it was the best thing ever. Moms need that time to remember who they are as a woman, not just someone’s wife and mommy.
Bring home or cook dinner once a week
Pssst, hey you, we hate cooking after feeding picky eaters all day, coaxing them to sleep and chasing them around. It’s just one more thing on a super long list of things we have to do and we don’t like it. Please handle it occasionally. You will be our hero. Do the dishes and put the kids to sleep on your own…your imagination is the only thing holding you back, baby.
An hour to work out
Being a mom is so busy that we really lose sight of ourselves. One day, we realize we’ve become bottom of our own very long list of things to care about. Working out not only provides us with some time alone, but we also get to feel those endorphins and feel productive and beautiful. Yes, sweating makes us feel like we are part of the solution, especially when we’re feeling overwhelmed and particularly mommish.
A space of her own
It doesn’t need to be huge. It just needs to have a door and a lock. An office, craft room, or workout area. We just really need something that is ours.
Volunteer to do some of the chores
Bringing home dinner is one thing but if you put babies to sleep, walk dogs, fold laundry and unload the dishwasher, there might be some more babies or at the very least some A+ effort baby-making-like actions being initiated.
Consider her feelings
Ask yourself, what would my wife do? You want to go out with the guys for 1, 2 or 10 beers after work on Friday night. Ask yourself, does my wife need me to come home and give her a break? Is she going insane because the only people she’s been talking to all day are under 3 feet and don’t know any words? Does she need to hand off the littles to me and regroup? Yes, the answer is yes. No matter what you might think, no matter how amazing she is or how much she loves your children, the answer is yes because while she is a superwoman, she is only a human.
Ask her how her day has been and let her tell you
Talk to her. Not at her. Ask her questions. Listen to her answers. Let her vent. Give her a hug. Let her cry. Be tolerant. Be patient. Be kind. Most importantly, be understanding and know that she is probably really tired and very hungry.
Entertain the kids after dinner
She made dinner. She bathed the kids. Offer to put them to bed. Offer to read them stories. Take one thing off of her super piled high mom plate. Be proactive. It will make your relationship with your wife and your kids better. You are part of the team, not a spectator. These are truly the best gifts to get new moms and moms everywhere of all ages and it’s free, with the exception of a little effort.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah and wishing you lots of peace and love in your marriage and your parenthood. You can do it. You just need to want to. Let’s be honest, as a mom, I would prefer a gift of the middle of the night feeding duty, dishwashing, folding and putting away laundry, baby wrangling and time alone to breathe, eat, play my music at full blast over diamonds and bags any day of the year. That’s saying a lot because I love my diamonds and bags but time for me, consideration, and respect for what I do from the ones I love, is worth more than anything else.
As a mom, what do you consider the best gifts to get new moms? Best gifts to get moms? Do you think the best gifts for moms are free?

2020/12/13
In Defense of Hilaria Baldwin and her Spanish Accent
It’s taken me a week to write this post because I had to suss through all of my feelings on it. Sounds crazy, right? Why do I need to have feelings on it? It’s not me. At first, I was really pissed that people were mad because why is it anyone’s business where Hilaria Baldwin is from or what her ethnicity is? Who is she hurting? But, something wouldn’t let me post that 1^st version because I just felt like there was more that I needed to know. Then, I realized, I was identifying with her, as I am a white Latina. The thing is, she’s not a white Latina or a Latina at all. We’re both Americans with dark hair and fair complexions but that is where the similarities end because while I actually do have Spanish roots, she does not.
In Defense of Hilaria Baldwin and her Spanish Accent from a White Latina
In defense of Hilaria Baldwin, I watched her Instagram videos clarifying and explaining herself to the general public because some troll on Twitter was making fun of her seemingly coming and going Spanish accent. I was offended for her, not by her. Also, as someone who has been attacked by trolls themselves and has had her own Latina-ness publicly called into question, I was triggered.
READ ALSO: If Latinas Dancing offends you, you might be a racist.
I’ll be honest with you; I don’t know Hilaria Baldwin. We’re not friends. I didn’t grow up with her. I don’t know anything about her, other than that she is married to Alec Baldwin and had a bunch of beautiful babies with Latino-inspired names. She is called Hilaria, so as a Latina, I assumed she herself is Hispanic or Latina (yes, there is a difference). She looks like me; white skin, dark hair, and eyes, and spoiler alert: It’s hard being a white Latina. I don’t know if she’s Hispanic or not but she could be.
That’s right, I said it. It always has been hard and it probably always will be hard being one ethnicity and looking different than the typical stereotype that Americans expect. You think it’s hard being Latino or Black in America because people can see the color of your skin and you’re a target from the minute they see you coming? It is. It’s true. You can’t hide it. You can try. They make creams, treatments and cosmetic surgeries for just these kinds of things. People are dying trying to be white for some reason. Somehow, white has become a barometer for beauty to many. Not to me. To me, beauty radiates from within.
Yet here I am, speaking out
In Defense of Hilaria Baldwin and her Spanish Accent from a White Latina
I am a first-generation Mexican American. I am a white Latina. At first glance, you’d never consider that I’m a minority. Born in Ohio, raised in Chicago. I don’t have a thick Spanish accent. If you see me, most people have guessed that I’m Greek or Italian. When I was a child, I looked like I didn’t belong to either of my parents. My mom has blue eyes and fair skin and light hair. My dad is golden brown, with dark hair and eyes. He speaks with a thick accent, then again, so does my mom (just his is from Mexico and hers is from Tennessee.) My daughters have blonde hair and blue eyes. They are Latina. Latinos come in all shapes, sizes and shades from alabaster to bronze, so I make no assumptions.
READ ALSO: Racism in America
I was raised on two languages, in two countries with two cultures. I love them both. I am proud of them both. But I was made to feel, by people who didn’t know me, who judged me based on the color of my skin, that I didn’t belong to either. I was always made to feel like I was lacking in both and needed to prove myself. I had to work twice as hard to fit in. Until I decided I just wasn’t going to care about what anyone else, except for those who either gave birth to me or I gave birth to, thought. It was very hard to navigate my formative years.
Why is it so impossible to believe that Hilaria Baldwin could have a Spanish accent?
The result is that when I am around other Latinos, my accent does become thicker because I feel freer to speak Spanish in a way that is more authentic to those around me because they understand me. I actually think that is pretty normal for most people who grew up speaking more than one language. Latino/ Hispanic is not just a label it is way of life. It radiates from within, it comes from your soul and is a receipt on all of your love for your Latino heritage and the Latino way of life. It’s a privilege.
But, I live in the United States and I have been through many years of university, I can speak 3 other languages, so when I speak English, I sound completely American. However, I go between speaking English and Spanish often (so much so that I could count Spanglish as my fifth language), probably from the years of translating it in my head when speaking to my dad or my grandparents, or celebrating Spanish mass or enjoying my childhood, constantly set to a Banda soundtrack and yes, sometimes, I forget the English word for some things, despite it being my first language, especially if I’m excited or nervous.
This White Latina doesn’t have a Spanish accent but I occasionally forget the English word for things. It happens.
While my friends call me Debi and I was born in Ohio, my full name is Deborah. Deh-BOr-AH. Maybe you say it De-BRA but that’s not how I grew up hearing it. I grew up hearing it in my dad’s rich, thick Spanish accent. Or my mother’s sweet, slow southern accent, calling out for Debi Sue when it was time for dinner. My point is that your name does not determine your culture, race or ethnicity. We are who we are and it’s not anyone else’s business or right to judge whether or not we are enough to prove it to you.
READ ALSO: Judging people based on the color of their skin is a “you” problem not a “they” problem.
I watched Hilaria’s Instagram videos and whether she is Spanish or not, as a Latina, I am not offended. When brown and black people try to “fit in” it’s called assimilation and everyone is cool with that because it’s America and that’s what is expected (always conformity) but the minute a Caucasian dares to speak another language with even a hint of an accent (from living in another country) everyone is up in arms calling bullshit. Madonna’s acquired British accent as a grown-ass woman, I call bullshit on. Someone who spent their formative years living in another country and speaking another language, perfectly plausible. My point is why are all the white people mad that Hilaria might or might not be Spanish? Who gives any fucks? We are in the middle of a pandemic? There are still kids in cages and black men being shot dead in the streets by cops. Hilaria’s (or Hilary’s) accent is the least of any of our worries. If she faked being Latina, the only one who should really be upset is her husband because he was duped thinking he married a Spaniard woman when he didn’t.
If she were trying to dupe people for some gain, appropriating the culture as a native Latino or making a mockery of it and the people, without any of the weight that comes with it, I would be pissed. But I don’t feel that is what she is doing. In fact, I am way more offended by American’s celebrating Cinco de Mayo as an excuse to get wasted, dressing in panchos and straw sombreros at frat parties and sharing those Mexican Word of the day memes than I am by Hilaria Baldwin letting people believe she’s Hispanic. I feel like she loves the culture so much and wants to be a part of it so badly that she let people have their assumptions. If she respects and admires the culture so much so that she has learned the language, lives in the country and embraces its history and people, what is the problem?
READ ALSO: When Racism Happens at School
People assumed that she was from a Spanish speaking European city because she speaks Spanish. Who actually created the issue? Why does it even matter? It isn’t like the situation with Rachel Dolezal who not only pretended to be a black woman but actually took a job that should have belonged to an actual black person. Rachel Dolezal actively lied and stole opportunities from black people; she intentionally hurt them. Hilaria didn’t clear up an assumption; these are different things. So here I am, in defense of Hilaria Baldwin and her Spanish Accent from a White Latina to you.
In the end, Hilaria Baldwin is not a white Latina or a Hispanic woman. She is a Bostonian who speaks Spanish fluently and happens to look like a Spaniard but more than that she is someone who is part of the Spanish community, maybe not by birth or blood but by choice. In the end, why is the world so offended? I’m a Latina and I don’t feel betrayed or hurt by her wanting to belong to my culture. If you are, ask yourself why?
2020/12/31
How my Disfigured Mind Caused a Disfigured Body
Disfigured~ to impair (as in beauty) by deep and persistent injuries (real or imagined).
Recently, I watched a movie on Netflix called Disfigured. Disfigured was about two women, one who was severely overweight and the other anorexic. Disfigured began with a group of overweight women sitting in a circle at a meeting for a group for “fat acceptance”. This blew my mind.
What comes first the disfigured mind or the disfigured Body
As many of you are aware I have a history with eating disorders and it’s always been a battle for me to accept the skin I am in. I’m not sure that I’ve ever truly been comfortable in my own skin, it’s been more a range of tolerance. There have been times when I could tolerate the body that I live in more than others but I’ve never looked in the mirror and thought, this is good; I am happy with what I see. When I heard this group of women talking about acceptance, it was a foreign concept to me. In fact, it was so foreign that it was unbelievable.
READ ALSO: To the Bone
I would love to believe that there are women out there who are overweight and are happy. Women who accept and embrace their curves. God, I hope there are. I hope there are actually women in the world who are comfortable in their own skin and love their bodies, every single inch of it. I’m not one of them. I will probably never be one of them just because my way of looking at my body has been fucked up for so long and I have an actual diagnosis ( Body Dysmorphic Disorder) that prevents me from seeing myself as I really am. I feel disfigured at my core. I wish that I could just stop being the way I am. I’ve tried but something always creeps back in and plants a seed of doubt. Watching Disfigured was very uncomfortable for me. It’s hard to explain to you unless you’ve spent your life struggling to achieve an unattainable goal and I am sure some of you have. I feel like I have to creep up on happiness because if it sees me coming it darts off in the opposite direction. It’s a moving target like a toddler being chased in the road.
A disfigured mind can destroy your life.
What transpired next was even more unbelievable to me, or believable or just too fucking relate-able. At this ” fat acceptance” group a recovering anorexic woman walked in and wanted to join the group. I completely understood this. While, I am nowhere near my former bulimic/anorexic self I remember well the feeling of making the choice to recover and having to face the feelings of shame, guilt, anxiety and disgust every single day that you eat normally. When you go from starving yourself, to eating anything at all, it is very uncomfortable. You feel like you are losing control and you feel shame that you can’t control yourself and you feel fat. Yes, fat. Even if you are bone-thin and to everyone else, you look like you need to gain weight. When you are in that part of recovery…you truly do need to learn fat acceptance.
Disfigured Soul
Of course, the anorexic walked in the room and the women who were moments earlier preaching acceptance just as quickly threw her out. She was reaching out for help and they wouldn’t help her because she was too thin. I guess acceptance is a one-way street. They wanted acceptance but only for themselves and only on their terms. This pissed me off. I have been on both sides of this spectrum and both are equally as hard, as dangerous, unhealthy and both leave you feeling ugly and disfigured.Unwanted.Unworthy of happiness. Both make you feel like you are weak. Both fill you with shame and cause your quality of life to suffer. The two main characters became an unlikey pair trying to help the other find acceptance of herself through accepting one another,even though they were one another’s biggest fear. They had everything in common even though their respective situations would lead you to believe otherwise. They both were uncomfortable in the skin they were in.
READ ALSO: A Day in the Life of a Girl with Eating Disorders
The identification with both characters had a very profound effect on me. It’s so hard to look at yourself when you are ashamed of what you see in the mirror, too fat or too skinny. It’s not physical at all, it’s all that your perception is of yourself. It’s hard to accept responsibility for making the choices that make you feel so worthless. Unhappiness with what I see in the mirror comes from putting conditions on my own happiness and hiding behind self-imposed superficial limitations. The reason that I can’t be happy with my body is that I am hanging the success of my entire life on what I look like. How ridiculous is that? How has it taken me all this time to finally see what the obstacle truly is? It’s me. I need to get out of my own way.
I need to accept that I deserve all the happiness that the world has to offer. Not when I get the perfect body, the perfect life or only when what I see reflected back to me is acceptable by my impossible standards. I am good enough now! Right now. I have not thrown up or restricted my calories to dangerous levels in about 12 years but I’ve also not allowed myself to fully enjoy my journey. I have to learn to love and accept myself with the unconditional love that I have for others.
What stops you from reaching your bliss? Do you make your happiness conditional based on money? weight? your partner? your house? degrees of success? your child? Why do we have to wait for tomorrow to enjoy our today? We have been misguided. We are not disfigured. This is the almost story of how a disfigured mind destroyed my life.
2011/12/28
Losing a Child is Every Parent’s Nightmare
Every parent fears losing a child. It is one of my greatest fears. It doesn’t matter how of the thousand ways that I could lose them, but the very thought of not having them in my life scares the hell out of me. It leaves me breathless and overcome with sadness. The very thought of it keeps me up at night on occasion, in fact, I’m writing this post at 3:30 am. I was sleeping.
Losing a Child is something No Parent should have to Experience

I dreamed that I dropped my 4 year old daughter off at preschool and as I walked away, I turned back for one last glance. You know how we always need that one last look to make sure they are safe; that one last glance to let them know that we love them more than life itself? Instead of seeing the back of her backpack walk into the doors, I saw her run after someone. I look, it was a tall man. My little 4 year old girl is screaming “Daddy, Daddy” to a complete stranger and running off into the opposite direction. It’s not her father. I can see that clearly.
Losing a Child is like surviving your own death
I try to run after her but she’s too fast, the crowd’s too thick and my legs won’t carry me to her fast enough. I scream her name, at the top of my lungs, as loud as the universe will allow me to yell. She’s too far away. She does not hear me. I see the man target her. I can’t get there fast enough. I’m out of breath. My heart is beating out of my chest. The man, in the distance, smiles and takes her tiny hand and leads her off into the opposite direction from me. Away from me. I’m trying to push through the sea of people. I’m hysterical but no one notices. No on hears my cries for help. My child is being taken. I am helpless and useless and on the verge of crisis. My mind is breaking, my heart is bursting and my life is ending right before my very eyes.
They are getting further and further away and then she turns around. She realizes what is happening but it’s too late. The man that she so eagerly ran to when she mistook him for Daddy is putting her into his car. She looks panicked and afraid. I am running towards her and yelling for help. Why can no one hear me? Why does no one help? She is crying and screaming for me, “Mommy, Mommy. Help me!” But I can’t help her because I’m on the other side of the parking lot. The car pulls away with my daughter looking out the window, screaming, begging for me to rescue her. I wake up.
My heart is beating out of my chest. I am crying hysterically. I look over and she is peacefully asleep beside me; her little hand reaching out to find me. I willingly take it and kiss her forehead and hug her tighter than she will ever know. She stirs. Her eyes open and she says, “Mommy, me love you, ” and then rolls over and returns to her safe and peaceful slumber. None the wiser of the events that have transpired…in my nightmare. No idea of the heartache and grief that I just survived, right next to her. Me love you too baby!
She may be taking the day off from preschool tomorrow.
Today, I am at the awesome Natalie’s blog; Mommy of a Monster and Twins sharing my Monster Mommy Moment. I know, shocking that I have those, right? I hope you will all stop by and check out Nat’s blog. She is definitely worth getting to know. Not only is she a fantastic blogger, she is a great person to follow on Twitter if you want someone with a dynamic personality and engaging conversation,plus she is supercalifragilisticly sweet and a great friend. Go check her out!
Also, just a reminder for you fabulous readers that I have the Shabby Apple giveaway this week. I am giving the gorgeous Lois Lane dress away to one lucky reader! Entry is easy and entries are low. Giveaway ends Thursday night at 11:59 pm EST and the winner will be announced in this week’s Fashion Haul Friday Post. Enter to win. It’s simple. Here’s to no more nightmares of losing a child and to good luck to you all to win a fabulous red dress for the holidays!
Have you ever had a dream of losing a child?
Photo Credit
2011/12/05
Dadchelor Parties~Because apparently Everything’s an excuse for a Pub Crawl
A couple weeks ago I was reading the Huffington Post and came across a post on Dadchelor Parties~because everything’s an excuse for a Pub crawl. Have you heard of these? Did your husband have one? I think the Big Guy would certainly would have loved to have had one of these but our first was born back in the dinosaur days of 2005. You know before push gifts were all the rage? Don’t get me wrong, I think push gifts are an amazing idea. Hell fire, if I have to push a 15 inch head, 8 lb 13 ounce bundle of joy out of my woohoo meanwhile ripping myself in half, cracking my ass-bone resulting in 25 discrete stitches and a lifetime of itching from the scar…I think I damn well deserve a piece of jewelry. But a Dadchelor party? That’s something all together different!

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You may think they are staring at her ass but actually these expectant fathers are staring at her flat belly:)
Dadchelor Parties~Because apparently Everything’s an excuse for a Pub Crawl
What the hell is a Dadchelor party you ask? It seems it is a last hurrah for expectant fathers before they become a Daddy. You know how they feel the need to go out with their friends , drink like camels, cat call harass unsuspecting 20 something year olds, waste our money on strippers and illicit hookers before getting married? Yeah, just like that. Because apparently getting married and sentenced to conjugal visits with the same lady forever is so hard to fathom that men feel the need to act like complete morons on their last night of freedom with the boys. Well, it now seems that men have let the secret out that there is something in fact worse than sex with the same women for all eternity and that would be denied conjugal relations with that same woman after the babies come. What ? You don’t think this is fair? Me either!
Dadchelor Parties~Because apparently Everything’s an excuse for a Pub Crawl
Where was my last hurrah before the baby was born? I didn’t get a girls weekend in Vegas to cut loose and sew my last wild oats. Hell, I didn’t even get a sympathy nap or a courtesy reach around from the OB/GYN! What I got was a crappy old lady party with a bunch of relatives that I see once every five years buying me the same crap onesie that Target had on sale and everyone else bought me…because apparently my baby was going to wear 375 size 0 onesies in 1 month. And guess what, now even the husbands get to come to the baby shower. Hell, the Big Guy was thrown his very own baby shower at the office. I wasn’t even invited.

But let’s be clear, these Dadchelor parties are just one more reason for men to go out with their friends guilt- free and have a boys night out. I think they are complete crap. So what if your life is going to change? Mine changed from the moment of conception! Morning sickness, all the things no one tells you about being pregnant and how out of control my baby bump would become, these were all collateral damage of pregnancy that directly affected my body. I guess, we ladies get to do all the heavy lifting while the boys and their village go out and celebrate their virility. Why do men deserve a pub crawl? Do they? What are your thoughts on Dadchelor Parties?
Dadchelor Parties~Because apparently Everything’s an excuse for a Pub Crawl

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2011/06/28
How I Stayed Motivated to Work Out for an Entire Year
Today marks 365 days since I found out that I was diabetic. That was the day that my life changed forever. The thought of dying scared me so much that I began my journey to health that same day. It’s not been easy but it’s been worth it, most days. There’s no such thing as easy, fast weight loss. Changing your eating habits and working out can help get you healthy but it takes time and patience. This is how I stayed motivated to work out for a year.
Let’s face it, often working out is more of a chore than it is a pleasure. Most days I struggle with motivation. I always feel better after I’m done but finding the inspiration to get going on some days is harder than the desire to lose weight or even get healthy but then I remember why I’m doing it; to live.
READ ALSO: How I cured myself of diabetes
How you feel about working out, especially during a shelter-in-place, will definitely impact how hard and how often you work out. Unfortunately, feeling discouraged and out of sorts will only encourage you to do it less and less. In the end, it’ll take a toll on you mentally and physically. As challenging as it sounds, the best thing to do is power through and just do it.
Here are four sneaky ways to stay motivated to work out and lose weight.
Work Out With Friends
Everything’s better with friends. After all, you’re more likely to laugh and smile, and they’re both signs that you’re having a good time. This logic even counts for exercising, so never take your buddies for granted. The trick is convincing them to do it, which is harder than it sounds. Hopefully, once they see your results and how you’re pushing yourself to be better, they’ll happily join. If social distancing measures mean you have to stay at home, you can use Zoom or FaceTime to connect virtually.
Work Out with Music
Who isn’t inspired by the soundtrack of their life? Music makes everything better. A good beat can really inspire your week out groove. Of course, not all music is created equal, and some beats get you more pumped for working out than others. The key is to choose wisely when looking for work out inspiration. Start by picking your favorite songs. Music that you love will help you push passed your exhaustion and to keep going. Next, find upbeat music. Personally, I love to work out to today’s hits or reggeaton.
Getting Dressed Up
Getting dressed in clothes other than day and night PJs isn’t really happening much at my house. In fact, these days, yoga pants and a t-shirt qualify as dressing up. But staying in your pajamas long enough can suck all of your motivation to work out and it’s not very conducive to fast weight loss. One way to change your frame of mind is to use clothes to boost your self-esteem. Whether it’s a Disney Toes or Five Toes design, your workout gear should have two advantages. Firstly, wearing them will make you want to exercise. Secondly, they’ll aid performance, meaning you’ll always be at your best. Working out isn’t challenging when you’re stacking wins.
Don’t Second Guess Your Achievements
You’ve worked hard and hit your goals and suddenly, the goal line moves. This is because we live in an Instagram world and everyone else on social media appears to be hitting higher targets. They’re losing weight faster, easier and looking better doing it. Next thing you know; you feel subpar instead of like the winner that you are. Regardless of what everyone else is doing, focus on you and your goals. You’re not in competition with anyone else. The goal is to be healthy, nothing else matters. After all, you’re the one who has to put in the hard work and do the workout. One day, you’ll reach your target weight and fitness goal. For now, concentrate on what you can control and have fun.
READ ALSO: Food’s an Addiction and Sugar is a Drug
Whether you want fast weight loss or long-term health, this is how to stay motivated to work out for an entire year and beyond. What do you do to stay motivated to work out when you are not in the mood?
2020/05/07
The Right Shade of Lipstick Can Change Your Life Forever
They say the eyes are the window to the soul but the smile, the lips, they are by far the curb appeal. A lip can tell you a lot about a person and how they are feeling on any given day. It goes beyond the natural shape and fullness of someone’s pout. Your lips tell your story before you even speak a word. A woman can conquer the world in the right lipstick. The right shade of lipstick can change your life forever.
Want to change up your look? Not really into cutting off all of your hair? Don’t have time to drop 30 pounds before the Bikini season? As if we’ll even have a bikini season this year. Don’t have a zillion dollars to overhaul your wardrobe? I’ve got you covered. Why not express yourself via your lipstick? Who cares if you’re not going anywhere, think of the selfies.`
Sounds simple right? Maybe it doesn’t sound like it can do that much but have you ever pulled your hair down out of that pony, wiped off that chapstick and replaced it with a fire engine red lip stain? Life. Changing! I’m not even joking, you can go from daytime to playtime and sweet to sexy with the simple swipe of a lip brush. The magic of a strong lip is powerful.
Believe it or not, a change of lip color can change your perspective and change your state of being. A bold color can be empowering while a light one can be softening. A gloss can be flirty while a plum can be super serious. It’s your lips, you decide what you want them to say about you…nothings off-limit.
Disclosure: Thanks Tarte Cosmetics for gifting me all of the amazing colors and types of lipsticks to try out for the purpose of this post. All opinions are true and mine.
The right shade of lipstick can change your life forever.
A matte, like Tarte’s Tarteist quick dry matte lip paint in OG can make you feel serious and introspective. A touch of spice gives a different kind of energy and your entire vibe changes. Suddenly you’re a bit sassier, more bougie and even a little bit ratchet in the best kind of way.
Nude lipsticks may appear to be just a slight enhancement of your natural lip color but in reality, it’s your inner-self living its best life; more comfortable in your own skin.
A matte red like Tarteist quick-dry matte-lip paint in cheerleader can make you feel like a force to reckoned with. A strong red lip can fix any outfit, and give you great confidence. It makes you look bold and confident and that is what a great red lipstick is all about.
A gloss like Tarteist glossy lip paint in goals or snap can make you feel fun and flirty. Lip gloss was the first makeup that I ever wore and I love it. A shimmery gloss is an easy way to get full, 3D-looking lips. A perfect nude plumping gloss gives your lips a whole new dimension.
A deep plum lippie like Tarteist glossy lip paint in poison can make you feel like a bad bitch and give you the self-confidence to take on the world.
A subtle, flesh tone like Rainforest of the Sea color splash lipstick in rum punch or siesta can give you comfort and make you feel your most self. A matte mauve can make you feel pretty and feminine. It’s the perfect color to take you from day to night. Wear it to work and then to a happy hour afterward. This is a perfect balance.
A bold red like Tarte’s crystal cream in power can make a woman feel confident and sexy. Red lipstick feels like an instant infusion of passion. Not only does red lipstick make your teeth look whiter and brighter, it evokes emotion and passionate responses in others.
A matte deep black can make you feel powerful and fierce.
Tarte’s double duty beauty glide and go buttery lipstick in tangerine target coral red creates a powerful statement, complimenting skin with a bit of a tan, and brightening the face. It unleashes confidence and power that can pick you up on even your worst days.
The truth is that the right shade of lipstick can change lives and for me, throwing on red lipstick is the makeup equivalent of putting on a pair of heels. It’s my armor and helps prepare me for whatever life throws my way. It’s empowering. A bold red lifts my mood and makes me feel fierce. It’s my way of reminding myself that I’m a force to be reckoned with.
What’s your favorite shade of lipstick and why?
2019/11/01
How to Get the Behavior You Want from Your Children Without Losing Your Sh*t
Do you know how to get the behavior you want from your children without being the parent you hate? Do you have someone that you call when you want a second opinion on your parenting decisions? I think we all have someone or someones that we call when we feel like we need confirmation that we made the right choice. It’s okay. We all have these moments. Moments when we flounder and blow up or just feel like we are doing it all-wrong. The fact that we even care probably means that we are doing it mostly right.
I have a lot of friends who I get my parenting “second opinions “ from; sisters, friends, doctors, teachers, parenting books and even the Internet. I’m lucky because I happen to have a great tribe of moms in real life and also online, one of my favorites is Doc G, Deborah Gilboa (or as I refer to her in my head, Doctor Gilboa Medicine Woman).
Whatever you call her she is not only a doctor, she is the mom of 4 boys and has not only specialized in kids but has hands on experience. Not only is she a member of motherhood, she just might be one of the Presidents of her local association of motherhood. Somehow, she manages all of this and still makes her advice feel like a personal house call.

I know because I have Doc G on speed dial and if you’ve ever talked to her when you are at your parenting wits end, she stays calm, focused and gives you practical, helpful parenting advice instead of simply commiserating with you. Don’t get me wrong, I love when my friends tell me I’m not alone and that their kids can be assholes too but I really appreciate the helpful takeaways that I get from my conversations with the Medicine Woman.
Do you know who Doc G is? If not, no worries. Even if she’s not on your speed dial, you can still benefit from her expertise and advice because she wrote a book, Get the Behavior You Want…Without Being the Parent You Hate!
She had me at “Get the Behavior You Want”. Wouldn’t parenting be magical if we could all just get the behavior we wanted without having our heads spin around like Linda Blair in the exorcist and shouting at the top of our lungs, so much so that you worry that the Sheriff next door might come over and arrest you for being verbally abusive? I’m just kidding he has kids. He knows how it is. I wonder if I could pay him to arrest the kids when they misbehave? Now, that’s an idea.
But if you can’t pay the local Sheriff to arrest your ornery children, or maybe you just don’t want to, you should totally pick up Deborah’s book. Last night, I was scanning it for so much needed assistance in the how the heck to get my daughters to stop bickering department, so I got out my book, and found “Sibling Management” and scanned for our age group (Yes, because she not only makes the advice easily digestible for the busy mom she makes it easy to locate!) Right there on page 131, ages 8-10 was “bickering” and right beneath it were a few helpful tips to end bickering.
1. No bickering around other family members. Take it somewhere private.
2. No tattling about bickering. If it gets out of hand, demand a change or step away.
3. If you tried to handle it these ways and need help, ask an adult.
If I didn’t already love her, I would now. No bickering around family members. This rule is so simple yet so vital. I don’t want to hear their bickering.
No tattling about bickering, may favorite rule of all. It’s like the first rule of fight club is there is no fight club. I can’t wait to share these guidelines with my girls when they get home from school today. I’ll keep you posted as to how it turns out.
I love Get the Behavior You Want…Without Being the Parent You Hate because it was easy to get through and reference when you need it. It’s poignant information from a expert who could be one of your closest girl friends. I know this because she is one of mine. If you are looking for a easy to read and actually helpful parenting book, this is the one you should be reading. Also, for more great parenting advice, check out Ask Doctor G’s Youtube channel.
2014/11/11
Throat Punch Thursday~ 10-year-old Girl gives Birth Edition
10-year-old Girl Gives Birth, say what?
What is the world coming to when a 10-year-old girl gives birth? Where have all the adults gone in this scenario? Why was no one taking care of this little 10-year old-girl? She is supposed to be playing with baby dolls, hanging out with friends and awaiting puberty. A 10-year -old girl should not be giving birth to a baby; she is practically a baby herself. There are so many deserving recipients of today’s Throat Punch Thursday but I was particularly taken aback by this story, probably because I have daughters of my own.

The headline, “10-year-old Girl Gives Birth in Colombia” is one that begs to be read and further investigated. According to Primer Impacto, a 10-year old girl who lives in Colombia, reportedly arrived at a hospital in the past week bleeding and in a great pain.This visit to the emergency room was her first prenatal care visit. The baby, which was full-term, required a Caesarean section in the birth, doctors told Primer Impacto. Perhaps this was because she is a child and her pelvic area is still growing not meant to be large enough to pass a baby through her vaginal canal, like a grown woman’s might be. Doctors said that she did barely understood what was happening in the moment she was giving birth. The baby was born a 5 pound 6 ounce baby girl that was 14.5 inches long. The mother ,herself, is only 4 foot 7 inches tall. It scares me even more that the baby was a girl because what does that mean? Perhaps, in 10 more years, we will read about her giving birth or worse, maybe by then it will not be shocking but expected for children to be having sex and giving birth.
The 10-year-old who gave birth is a member of the Wayuu tribe, an indigenous group in the La Guajira Peninsula in northern Colombia and Venezuela, which reports say has kept quiet about the pregnancy and about the identity of the baby’s father.
Colombian authorities told Primer Impacto that they are considering various ways to address the girl’s pregnancy, and any charges against the father.
Authorities said that the tribe follows its own laws, and that law enforcement and elected officials are trying to balance how to handle whomever impregnated the girl with showing respect for the tribe’s sovereignty.
Respect for the tribe’s sovereignty? Where was the respect for this child and her innocence? Where was the respect for her body? Where was the respect for her childhood? Screw the tribe’s sovereignty, apparently they can’t keep their monsters on leashes.
10-year-old Girl gives birth, no one protected her
My throat punch does not go to a 10-year-old girl who gives birth.My Throat Punch goes to the very much deserving 15-year-old animal who had sex with a child and got her pregnant. It goes to the parents who did not keep close enough watch over their baby girl or protect her from the monsters of the world. My throat punch goes to the Wayuu tribe who have protected the identity of the animal who raped this child and impregnated her and who have decided that it was consensual sex. How can a child give consent on something she does not even understand? WTF? It also goes to the Wayuu tribe who probably will not prosecute this man. A hefty throat Punch also goes to our society who tries to rationalize co-ed sleepovers, children having sex at 11 and 12 years old, kids thinking that oral sex is not sex and therefore its fine to do, and giving condoms to elementary school aged children. If I hear one more lazy parent tell me that we need to provide children with condoms so that they don’t get STD’s or worse, get pregnant ( because lazy parents certainly don’t want to be bothered or burdened with grand kids) I just might scream. We need to protect our children, we need to talk to our children, we need to parent our children! **I am not talking to you parents who do it all right and explain sex, birth control and the consequences. I know there is only so much that we can do. We teach them but we can not be with them 24 hours a day. We have to parent and keep an open dialogue. If they don’t listen or heed our parenting, that is something different entirely. I’m talking about the parents who bypass the hard part of long talks and aggravation and go straight for passing out condoms.
Why do we need to accept this as status quo? Why do we just need to let this happen? Giving condoms? You are helping it happen. Being too lazy to parent your children? You are helping this happen. I’m here to tell you that kids having sex at 11 and 12 is not normal. Teach your kids to have some control. Teach your kids some consequences. Parent your kids and teach them some morals. Protect your kids from the pedophiles and perverts that lurk. Teach your children that if someone tried to have sex with them when they are children, there is something wrong with that person…not that child. Let them know they can talk to you. We have to take responsibility for the state of our society. We are not helping our children by teaching them that it’s fine to be sexually active as long as they wear a condom. That is teaching them that they can do anything they want without consequence.
This little girl is just a product of our society. She is a child who was taken advantage of and not protected, when she should have been. The problem is not 10-year-old girls giving birth. The problem is animals allowing 10-year-olds to be objectified sexually and other animals acting upon that objectification.

Hope you will link up your Throat Punch Thursday posts with me. I wanted to extend a personal invite to all of you to link up any posts in which you air a grievance, call out any asshatery,or just dole out a well deserved throat punch to one of societies shortcomings or political douche canoes. If not this week, I do it EVERY single Thursday and would love for any or all of you to join in! All you have to do is grab the Throat Punch Thursday button ( listed under the “about” tab at the top of the page), put it in your blog post and link up!
What do you think about a 10-year-old girl gives birth?
10-year-old Girl gives Birth, not the first or the last

2012/04/12
FAWK YOU FRIDAY
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Well, its been one of those weeks, you know the ones that kinda sucks monkey balls. Yeah, that’s the kind of week. So, I’ve decided to purge myself of that monkey ball after taste by giving the week a hefty Hell Yeah! FAWK YOU FRIDAY! most likely followed by #Wineparty on twitter to celebrate the week being over! How better to do that than by linking up with my girl Jana’s Fawk You Friday?
Fawk You to feet of snow. Yes, not inches but f*cking you right up the ass feet of snow. Between the 18 inches we got, the foot we still had and the crazy wind blowing all that shit around…I woke up Wednesday morning to snow, quite literally, up to my asshole!NOT COOL!
Fawk You to the fact that my husband lives out of town during the week, but of course where he is..the ice got him. So, he had to stay “Home” where he was..not here “home” where we are! I don’t know why but when he has to stay home from work at the place he’s staying…because it’s NOT here with us, it makes me insanely jealous and perturbed so badly that I get on my own damn nerves. ARGH! FAWK YOU!
Fawk You to the horrible communication at my daughter’s school. 2, count them 2!!!!, fawking dress down days this week…no fawking note! What am I? A freaking mind reader. I don’t run that joint. I need a heads up. Now, my poor kid was miserable because she lives for dress down days.Plus I made her look like her Mama doesn’t care enough to let her wear street clothes or pay enough attention to know when these blasted days are.FAWK ME!
Fawk the 1 pound I gained this week. I work out, I watch what I eat, I try to drink my water but apparently when Mother Nature strikes and water weight decides to hold on to my ass for dear life…I am no competition.
Fawk You to Mother nature! Between your fawking blizzard of 2011, my hemorrhage of 2011 & an all consuming craving for all things carbilicious…you are on my shit list lady! Fawk you..with no KY!
FAWK YOU to being passed over and feeling shitty about it! I’m so sick of feeling less than I what I am due to how I gauge myself against others. It drives me insane. I need to keep my eyes on the goals and less on when others are hitting the finish line. I’m a late bloomer.I always have been, my time will come! Good things to those who wait right? I hope so!
Happy Friday!
2011/02/04