The TRUTH About Motherhood

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The Burden of Being a Fat Woman

Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
Being fat is not what I wanted to be. Admitting that I am fat is even harder. I hate saying those words. For me, it’s admitting defeat. As if somehow writing it down and posting it makes it real.
I have eyes. I can plainly see that I’m overweight. I have been for years and all the pulling and tugging at my clothes will not change that. Most days I feel like I’m wearing a suit of shame like my weight is some sort of punishment.
Being fat is hard.
It’s even harder being out of shape. I’ve decided to start working out again and I am now more conscious about weight management. These days working on my abs feels like working out while being 9-months pregnant because I am so out of shape and my stomach is so massive. When I sit down, my stomach literally touches my lap. It disgusts me. When did this happen?
I wish I were one of those women who didn’t care what size her clothes were, what her body looked like in clothes or what people thought of her looks. It’s weird because while I couldn’t care less what people think of my opinions or beliefs or me as a person, I have always been consumed by what people might think of what I look like, more specifically my body. Believe me, I’ve tried to change my way of thinking but still, I feel like being fat is my biggest and most embarrassing failure in life.
I’ve been binge watching TLC shows about being overweight; My 600 lb. life and My Big Fat Fabulous Life. I find myself baffled that people have let themselves get that overweight. Then afraid it could happen to me. Unfortunately, I cannot relate to finding fabulousness in being overweight at all but I am glad others can love their bodies at all sizes.
I used to restrict calories and work out to the extreme. I used to be good at it; too good at it. I was masterful at the art of willpower and self-control, where eating was concerned. The rest of the world could be spinning out of control but I held tight the reins on my food intake. My entire world could be off the hook but my stomach was always tight. When people told me that I looked “sick”, it made me happy because I felt like I was doing something right.
Food is an addiction, worse than any other because while if you are an alcoholic or a drug addict you can choose not to partake. You can quit drugs and you can quit alcohol. It’s f*cking hard but you can do it. You can’t quit food. Well, you can, but you will die. I know, I’ve tried and was pretty successful and unfortunately, being too thin because you are obsessed with your weight and food intake is just as terrible as being too fat because you are eating too much. Being too skinny is just as unhealthy as being too fat. I know because I’ve been both.
My food issues started around the time I turned 7, at least that’s when the photos show that I gained weight. I wasn’t overweight at all but I wasn’t rail thin anymore. I’d love to be able to tell you what triggered it but I can’t because, honestly, I can’t remember most of what happened the years of my life between the summer I turned 7 and sophomore year in high school. It’s all a blur. I just remember wanting to fade into the background.
My dad was an abusive alcoholic who was always angry and my mom shut down to survive. I felt abandoned and the only attention I got was unwanted so I wanted to be invisible and somewhere along the way, I did that because everyone knows the quickest way to not be seen is to become overweight so I hid there, unnoticed. People stare at beautiful things but no one wants to make eye contact with the ugly of the world.
Being fat was my way to disappear.
I’m realizing that somewhere in that haze is the answer to the question of why I have always battled my own self-image and why I have such a problem accepting the skin I live in. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been at war with my body, my health. Always beating it into submission or ignoring it all together. When I write it down, it looks like a metaphor for my childhood. Maybe that’s the entire issue.
But how do I stop? How do I learn to love my body, myself, unconditionally when I never felt that as a child? It always felt conditional. I feel like by having my own daughters and loving them so fiercely and unconditionally, I’m slowly learning that everyone deserves that kind of love and acceptance…even me.
Even if you haven’t experienced being fat, how do you learn to love something that you’ve spent your entire life wishing you could change?
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2017/04/19
How to Survive the “Science Fair”
Have you survived your first science fair as a parent yet?
This may sound like a helpful post but really, be forewarned, there is no actual help here to be had, only tears, yelling and frustration. No, this my fellow weary, exhausted parents is a piece of commiseration because all one can really hope for is to survive ~~war~~ the science fair.
I haven’t participated in a science fair since my own over 20 years ago, scratch that, I’ve been out of high school for almost 25 years so it’s been a.very.long.time.ago. Absurdly, I remembered it fondly as I did the spelling bee and all the academic special occasions that I seemed to flourish in during my youth. Well, either I’ve gotten dumber, the work has gotten harder or life is just so much easier when your parents are the ones worrying and you are the one just doing it. Ahhh, to be a kid again.
Anyways, this year is my oldest daughter’s first “mandatory” science fair and like all firsts it was a complete bumbled “learning process”. That’s mom code for a complete muck up. I’ve been urging her to sign up since she was in 2nd grade but she didn’t want to. Now, I understand why. It’s hard. Aside from trying to find a suitable, age appropriate experiment that appears that your child could have actually did it on their own, and the implementing of science and then design elements, it’s nearly a full-time job for me my kid!
I’m not going to lie to you. I helped. A LOT! Our girl saw an episode of Myth Busters wherein the hosts mixed Mentos and Diet Coke and she decided that she wanted to do the same. We’re big fans of Myth Busters and she’s apparently a big fan of making things go boom. This worries me a bit. Anyways, we decided to do our own Mentos Explosion experiment and it was AWESOME.
I figured it would be easy. Mentos and Coke, very cost effective. Only I hadn’t wagered into the cost, a geyser tube, 6 bottles of Diet Coke, as many packs of Mentos, science fair board, border trim, printed photos, aggravation with graphs and hot glue gun burns. And I never anticipated the human error tears (hers) when the Coke fell sideways or the Mentos didn’t drop. Oh we paid. We all paid and I’m not just referring to the $40 at the damn art store.
You know the saying it takes a village to raise a child? Well, it’s not bullshit because it takes an entire family to do one science fair project. One to hold the GoPro and take video, one to shoot photos on the DSLR, one to set the experiment up and the child doing the science project to actually perform the experiment.
You think the science fair is going to be your 3rd grader filling balloons with vinegar fumes or conducting electricity via potatoes. You , ma’am would be wrong! You think you are an innocent bystander but I’m here to tell you that the science fair is an equal opportunity destroyer and you will be collateral damage.
So next time, don’t wonder why your 2nd grader didn’t volunteer to enter the science fair, just stay quiet and be glad that you have two years left to enjoy your sanity and that beautiful burn free body you have now because in a couple years, it’s be all burnt eyebrows, singed arm hair and tears. Lots and lots of tears and nobody needs to see their parents cry that much!
What’s your “fondest” science fair project memory?
2015/02/24
I Shaved my 7-Year-old
Last fall, I received a personal laser hair removal system because I’d already shaved myself silly for the past 30 years and waxing hurts my feelings. My 7-year-old saw it and asked what it was. I told her. Then, she mentioned the hair on her arms. She said if the laser hair removal treatment worked, she wanted me to use it on her. I took notice but didn’t want to make a “thing” of it. It felt like a little punch to my gut that this was a concern of my 2^nd grader. It broke my heart a little.
For those asking, opulentlasers.co.uk has the permanent laser hair removal at home which you can check out now.
I’ve always believed that when my daughters came to me about hairy legs, out of control eyebrows or the inevitable extra lip hair (because God knows I am living proof of maintenance) that I would help them. It wouldn’t be an issue, until they came to me if it bothered them. As long as they love the skin they are in, that’s all that matters to me.
I remember being in middle school myself and having hairy legs and my dad forbidding me to shave my legs. I had to wear ugly tube socks to hide the Sasquatch I was evolving into. It was humiliating. Eventually, embarrassment and humiliation got the best of me, I butchered shaved my legs and nearly took my ankle off with it. I never wanted my girls to have to sneak and shave their legs, tweeze their eyebrows or, heaven forbid, wax their mustache. Mostly, I never wanted them to feel that awkward humiliation or be stumped when someone else pointed out what they already knew.
So, when my 7-year-old came to me for a second time last night and asked me if I could laser her tiny little arms, I looked her straight in the face and asked her, “Why do you want me to take the hair off of your arms?” And she answered, “Because it bothers me, Mommy.” I made the decision to stick by my guns and I agreed to shave her arms.
You see when she originally asked about it, I consulted my aesthetician and she recommended shaving her arms. When my daughter came to me, very seriously, after several months and still wanted the hair gone. I had to do what was best for her.
I took her to my bathroom. I explained that hair is natural and we all have it. Some of us have more than others but that if this were what SHE wanted, I would shave her arms. She was sure.
I washed her arms. Lathered them with shaving cream and almost surreally,
I shaved her tiny arms from her elbow to her wrist.
When we were done, she hugged me and said, “Oh, Mommy! They are so smooth. Now, I don’t have to wear my fleece every day in class to cover my arms!”
She was ecstatic. She ran downstairs to show her dad and her sister. And then I died a little bit inside, as I held back the tears because I realized that she hadn’t given me the entire story.
I followed her downstairs, pulled her aside and asked, “Baby, why do you wear your fleece every day in class?”
Then she said something I never wanted to hear, “ Well, *Sophie asked my why my arms were so hairy. Then she told me they were weird. Then she laughed.”
I can tell you that as a mom, I wanted to punch this other 7-year-old in the face because she has put it in my daughter’s head that her arms are weird because they have hair on them. That will never go away. She’s never going to forget that moment that someone laughed and called her “weird” because of her body. That infuriates me.
I know some of you reading this are thinking why on the earth would you shave your 7-year-old’s arms? I realize that it sounds vain and cosmetic and no I don’t want to encourage my girls to believe that they need to change to meet society’s expectations of beauty. This wasn’t about that. This was me helping my daughter feel better about herself because it bothered her just like I would take her to a dermatologist if she had acne or get her braces if her teeth were crooked.
I shaved my daughter because that’s what she needed to feel happy in her skin.
I’m thrilled my daughter feels more confident without the hair on her arms but I’m hoping, since I didn’t have the entire story, that I didn’t send the wrong message. I don’t want her to think she has to conform to other people’s concept of beauty because I think she’s perfect already.
What would you have done in this situation?
Would you have shaved your 7-year-old if you could see it truly bothered her?
2015/03/09
Change~I just had a Come To Jesus Meeting..with Jose!
*Change anyone?* It’s that time of year again. You know what ‘m referring to, no not back-to-school, that was Monday. It’s a little over a month until my birthday and you know that can only mean ONE thing…mental, physical and spiritual inventory must be taken. This is my process so this morning I had my first ( of what will be many, many) come to Jesus meetings over the next year. I had it with Jose. No, it’s not some nickname we Latinos have for the almighty, it’s my little brother who is one ( as I found out the hard way this morning) hardcore, ass kicking personal trainer.Seriously, it’s his profession. I knew that he knew how to take care of himself, obviously. He’s always been in top physical shape since he was old enough to lift his first dumbbell. But we’ve never lived in the same city. Now, we do. This is Jose.
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This is Jose. This is 200 lbs. of badass personal training in a 160 lb. bag of cuteness.I think the photo says it all *Charming*
He who rejects change is the architect of decay~Harold Wilson
Doesn’t he look sweet? That’s what I thought. What you are looking at, my friends, is my salvation ( physically speaking anyways). Two years ago, we moved to a new city. My life hit the reset button. I joined Weight Watchers and lost 25 pounds. Life was good. Then the Big Guy was downsized. Life was not so good.I had to quit the program and since I am very apparently a stress eater, I ate those 25 pounds right back on and with them came a few more. I was depressed about it. Former eating disorder girl say what. It’s really hard trying to stay the straight and narrow when what you are doing is so NOT working. But I do. I fight the urge every day to seek the comfort of the path that I know. I fight to be a good example for my girls. I fight to be the change I want to see in the world for the young girls today. I want to be better than my circumstances.
Then last year, right smack dab in the middle of the whole commuter marriage fiasco, I was offered an amazing opportunity to be a Nutrisystem Nation Blogger. Again, I lost that 20 pounds and felt amazing. But then life started spinning out of control again. Then we had to put the house on the market, we were going to be moving and I was stressed beyond capacity. There was my old friend ( arch nemesis) food to comfort away the uncertainty. That is if comfort means to bury it deep down and surround it by a giant hug of fat. But the only uncertainty it remedied was the uncertainty of whether or not I would gain back those 20 pounds again. Guess what? I did! What can I say those damn 20 pounds llloooovvvveeee me! Me, not so much feeling that love.
If you don’t like something change it; if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it. ~Mary Engelbreit
That brings us to this morning. We are moved. I am hitting the reset again. Hopefully for the last time for a long time. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am happy. I know it. I feel it in my very core ( well, that and a terrible side stitch that I haven’t been able to shake since my brother boot-camp). I have committed myself to the ~~drill Sargent~~ my little brother and made a promise to myself…I will feel comfortable in this skin of mine.Body dysmorphic disorder and Bulimia/Anorexia can all be damned. I’m not having it, ever again. With the help of my brother, the MOST invested, no nonsense personal trainer that anyone could ever ask for, fueled by a genuine concern and love for his sister, the next year will bring about huge change. I have a goal that I want to hit by my birthday next year and he is going to help me reach my goal. This is one of those moments in life where you are standing at a cliff and you have to decide if you want to take a chance and jump or maintain the status quo. I’m jumping! After this week, I may not be walking but I am jumping.
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We're going to call this the official BEFORE photo. I'll allow you to see me a sweaty mess but sweaty ponytail, no makeup and luggage under my eyes..A girl's got to maintain some tiny dignity:)
This journey is about more than just losing weight. It is about changing my entire lifestyle..forever. It’s no diets or gimmicks, it’s me facing the mirror and taking a good hard look at myself. It’s hard work personal training with my brother and learning to make good, healthy choices with real food. It’s me learning to live in the world. It’s me learning to love my body for all that it is and none of what it’s not. This is me, yelling it from the top of the cliff. I am proclaiming it to the world. It will happen. And this time when the first 25 pounds comes off, I’m giving all the clothes that are too big to the homeless shelter.I will do it every 25 pounds until all I am left with are the clothes that fit who I become.
My change starts right now
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2011/08/17
Getting to Know you Sunday!
Questions are:
1.If you had 5000.00 to spend on plastic surgery what would you have done?
Well, I would definitely have the “girls” placed back to their original location because we all know the bigger they are, the harder they fall! I’d probably also have those girls evened out. If I had any money left over, which I probably wouldn’t, maybe some ass implants since I definitely have a case of the Mexican flat bootie disease. If there was more, tummy tuck, botox, and maybe some collagen for the lips. Just saying, off the top of my head:)
2. Do you watch Soap operas and if so what is your favorite and why?
No soap operas since high school, but I am definitely a follower of TRUE BLOOD. Why you ask? Because, Vampires are apparently hot.. I think its the whole glamouring/ sucking on your neck thing plus they never age and they are apparently SMOKIN HOT!
3. Favorite clothing brand?
As long as its cute, I don’t care. But I do love Burberry, Louboutin, Diane Von Furstenberg, Anthropologie, and Juicy..to name a few!
4. An afternoon shopping spree at your favorite store or maid service for a year?
Actually, how about a spa day! That’s what I rally need!
5. Would you ever vajazzle?
Sure, why not… I try everything at least twice!
6. Favorite Disney Princess?
I love Tiana from the Princess and the frog because she was very “real” but I also love Belle from Beauty and the Beast because she reminds me of my girls, Izabella and Gabriella!
7. Last movie that made you bawl your eyes out?
Lots make me cry, most recent… Mamma Mia. I know you are saying… what? Well, when the “Slipping through my fingers” song came on, my then 4 year old looked up and me and said.” Mommy… this is mine and your song!” Now, every time I hear it I cry!
8. Have you ever broken any bones and if so what?
Yes, arm.. roller dome skating accident when I was 11. Tripped over my little sister who I was skating with. It really hurt but at least I didn’t hurt my little sister!
2010/06/27
The First rule of Baby Talk is that there is NO Baby Talk!
Baby Talk, I’ve never been a fan. Don’t get me wrong, when I see and adorable wee little ones my mind ( and uterus) loses all it’s God given sense and turns into a baby scooping maniac ( just as much as the next Mommy) but I don’t do the whole baby talk thing. I may have done it before I had children, who can remember back that far but since having my girls, I’ve always felt the need to only speak to them in complete sentences, using correct vocabulary and syntax. This probably has a lot to do with the extensive vocabularies my girls now have at 4 and 6. It also, probably explains why they were speaking in full sentences around the age of 18 months. We never used baby talk, just like we never used binkies and in doing so they were never needed or wanted them.
Baby Talk
So, basically for the past 6 years I’ve walked around the world thinking to myself, ” That Poor Mom has to figure out a way to get that damn binkie out of that 5 year old’s mouth before kindergarten ( kindergarten teachers have no tolerance for binky suckers (some of them are quite cold blooded..the teachers not the kids)” or “Awww, that little kid is going to get made fun of because they are still talking baby talk.That Poor Mommy and baby.” My girl still spoke with a baby voice when she started kindergarten but it has always been in complete sentences, even if her R’s were soft and she sounded like a teenie tiny mouse when she spoke. It was complete,understandable sentences..damn it.
Oh but don’t hate me too much yet, NOW at the ripe old ages of 4 and 6 the girls have decided that it might be fun to play with the binkies they found from when they were newborn. They chew them like they are candy. Apparently, they dually serve as child chew toys for the older set. Who knew? And that baby talk that has never existed in our house…well, my girls like to “play” baby and talk …BABY TALK! Have you any idea how maddening it is to hear a 6 year old purposely talk in baby talk? It is one of the most annoying things I have ever been witness to.
Just Say No to Baby Talk
I asked her repeatedly to quit the baby talk but she wanted no part of my pleas. I was becoming increasingly frustrated. At my wits end, I decided to turn the tables and start using baby talk when I spoke to her. Judging from the wide eyed, gaping mouth expression that it was met with, I could see that my girl was NOT approving of my speaking in baby talk.
“Mommy, you sound crazy. It’s so annoying.STOP!”
Me:”I will, if you will!”
Shes 6 so obviously, she wasn’t giving it up without a fight. She continued to baby talk around the house. She thinks it sounds cute when she does it. Let me assure, she is cute but the baby talk is NOT. It was seriously driving the Big Guy and myself batty. This had to be nipped in the bud. School is starting in a couple of weeks. So, I continued to baby talk too, even going as far as to do it in public. The horror ( for both of us). This, apparently, was enough to scare her into submission. My game of baby talk chicken has turned out in my favor. Next, I’m applying this thought process to everything. Never underestimate the power of a healthy dose of embarrassment. You see, the first rule of baby talk is there is no baby talk!
What bad habit has your child picked up that you had to break? What did you do? Was is binky addiction? Bottle retention? Lovey enslavement? Hitting? Biting? Attachment fixation? A jonesing for the thumb? Or a good healthy does of
Baby Talk abuse

*No children were abusively embarrassed by this post on baby talk. All embarrassment was in moderation and in the realm within God given rights of all parents to bestow upon their offspring, especially when trying to thwart the use of excessive baby talk.
2011/08/01
The Sisterhood of Motherhood
The sisterhood of motherhood, isn’t it a beautiful thing? Seriously, without it where would we be? My mom friends, that unbreakable sisterhood of motherhood, is what got me through those early days of motherhood. They were my tether to sanity.
When I first became a mom, it was the single most amazing and simultaneously most isolating thing that had ever happened to me. There is just something about bringing life into the world that takes a woman and elevates her expectations of the world. My first decision was to stay huddled in our home, safely away from any and all germs, until I absolutely had to leave the house; six weeks later for my check up.
Immediately, I began to hold everything to a higher standard, including myself. My mission in life became to not break the baby; the perfect, amazing, beautiful creature whom I had just brought into the world. It’s a lot of pressure.
Motherhood gives you a new perspective of the world; more insight, more tolerance, more love and bravery like you’ve never known before.
Suddenly, I was fully aware that I was the keeper of this miracle. She was given to us perfect and any defects from here on out, was strictly on us. I was responsible for what kind of human being this sweet smelling, cooing, and loving little soul would become. It was overwhelming.
My first responsibility was to my child but once we left our bubble and went out into the real world, I realized that there are a million different ways to be a mom and how could I know for sure that my way was the best way? Keep the baby alive. That was my mantra.
Those first few years of motherhood felt like a constant “do I cut the red wire or the blue wire?” situation.
Only the ramifications were much worse than a simple explosion, I could ruin an entire human being’s life by making the wrong choice.
Okay, who thought it was a good idea to let me leave the hospital with this baby? I want to see some credentials because, clearly, they had no idea what they were doing giving a baby to me. Breathe!
I didn’t get much sleep in those days. It took a lot of time and effort doing the best I could and even more time comparing myself to other moms, not because I thought I was right but because I was sure I was doing it wrong.
By the time we started Kindermusik classes at 9-months, because a mom at the pediatrician’s office gave me a crazed look when I told her that my baby wasn’t taking any classes, I couldn’t get enough of what other mother’s had to say about the subject of motherhood. I wanted to be the best that I could be for my daughter so I was open to anything but there were so many conflicting parenting techniques. Every mom I met seemed to have a handle on parenting her child and still I felt like I was floundering, now more than ever.
Every other mom seemed to be better at motherhood than I was in those days.
I took mental checklists in those days. Breastfed. Check. Tried to anyways. Had problems producing and used an SNS to help. Check. Drank all the Fenugreek. Failed miserably. Check. Formula. Check. Bad mom. Double Check.
I used disposable diapers. Check. Never used a binky but she could not be parted from her lovie. (Still can’t.)Check. Co-slept. Check. Never stopped. Double check. Rolled over at 3-months. Check. Rolled right off the bed. Double Check. Bad mom. Check. Sat up at 5-months. Check. Started crawling at 7-months. Check. Crawled backwards. Check minus. Started talking at 6-months. Check. Started walking at 10-months. Check. Never wanted to leave my side. Check. Frequently woke up during the night while teething and demanded the Wiggles. Double check. I let her because the crying at 3 a.m. was killing me. Bad mom. Check again.
But every mom I met seemed to do everything just a little bit better with a little more ease and looked a lot better doing it. I met several moms who went back to work and had amazing careers and parenting seemed effortless while I, on the other hand, was completely overwhelmed, always tired and looked the part. The only thing I knew was that I adored my daughter and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to be the best parent possible to her. Really, I think that is how every mother feels.
Motherhood is hard, no matter who you are.

We’re just scared to let the other mothers know that we don’t know everything, it’s not all easy and some parts we don’t like or even understand. We pretend it’s easy because we don’t want to be labeled the “bad mom” the one who doesn’t know what she’s doing or worse, the one who is breaking her perfect child. It’s our biggest fear.
I’d like to think in times of true need, we would all rush to one another’s rescue. As I’ve moved past the new mother stage to the mom of elementary school aged children, I realized the truth and that was that we are all exactly the same. We’re all just trying to do our best and it’s hard for all of us at times. Some parts are easy for others and some parts are harder but in the end we all just really love our babies more than we know how to handle. We all just need to give one another a break because if we helped one another out rather than compared ourselves or judged each other, we’d all be happier and better moms. You’re not alone. We all make mistakes. Just keep loving your baby and doing your best.
When is a time that you felt at the end of your mommy rope and another mom came in with a kind word or action and made your day better?
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This post about motherhood is sponsored by Similac. I was compensated for this post but all opinions are my own.
2017/03/01
Am I a Good Parent?
Am I a good parent? I ask myself that question almost constantly. I’ve been spending a lot of time lately mulling over what makes a good parent? More importantly, what constitutes bad parenting? I just can’t can’t seem to get away from it. No matter the issue, I want confirmation that I am doing it right..not wrong. I want to be the cool mom who gives all the great parenting tips because I have my collective parenting shit together but I AM NOT!
Good Parent?
My parenting skills are not without there purpose. I’ve learned a few things over the years. My girls have thus far survived pregnancy unscathed, toddlerhood without too many gaping holes and moved steadily into the part of full blown preschoolers. But here is where it’s getting tricky. This is where I am seeing the glimmer of therapy to come in their little eyes.
Ok, so maybe I am a little phobic about bugs. Jeez, can I help it that it freaks me the holy hell out if my freckles move and I need to instantly disrobe and hit the showers or have a complete undercover panic attack? I try not to share this seedy underbelly of life with my girls but I’m pretty sure that they can see the ‘EEK” in my eyes. I mean, it’s pretty much palpable! Maybe this is why Bella has decided to take a pass on the swingset this morning. I hope not.
Perhaps, it’s not the best technique of parenting when I am trying to ~~get the house cleaned~~, ~~emails answered, blog post written~~ save the world and I leave the girls in front of ~~Yo Gabba Gabba, Tarzan, Family Guy~~ ( I jest, I jest) PBS for an extended amount of time. It’s not everyday and it’s not always but it happens. Just like chicken nuggets and cereal for dinner have happened. Or like forgetting dress down day at school? Permission slips? Homework? Does this make me a bad parent?

I know it’s not exemplary. I wouldn’t write a book about parenting and suggest that people leave kids in front of the obesity tube. But for all the phobias, idiosyncrasies they have picked up even a bit of snarkilicious attitude they know one thing for certain…we love them. We unconditionally, every second of every day, no matter the weather or our mood or how many daunting tasks we have on our plate…We love them. We tell them! We hug them, kiss them.We show them. True, I have them sitting at the table next to me working on spelling as I am typing this. Not as hands on as I could be at this moment but we’ll do manis and pedis and have some Mommy/Daughter time before dinner. Is this bad parenting? Or is it realistic parenting?
What do you think makes a good parent? What qualifies as bad parenting? What is your finest parenting moment? Worst? I want to know…
Who makes the good parent rulebook?
2011/06/29
The Smell of Fresh Laundry Reminds me of My Childhood
Disclosure: This is a compensated post written as a part of my Suavitel ambassadorship agreement but my love for Suavitel and the nostalgia it brings are all my own.
Don’t you love it when you walk into a house or a room and it smells like freshly laundered linens? Or jumping into bed at night in clean sheets? It’s the best feeling in the world and it is my favorite smell. This is why the smell of Suavitel always reminds me of home. It reminds me of my childhood and folding laundry with my mom or jumping into warm, clean laundry before school on cold winter mornings.
For this reason, I love new fragrance pearls in-wash scent boosters. It not only smells amazing, it keeps that fresh smell lasting longer. You simply toss it into the washer before you throw your laundry in; add your detergent and then your fabric softener. It’s simple and the results are amazing with 5X longer lasting freshness, your clothes, your entire home, will smell awesome for weeks.
New Suavitel® Fragrance Pearls™ in-wash scent boosters with micro-encapsulated technology helps families extend that feeling of comfort and those exquisite aromas synonymous with a fresh load of laundry. It’s safe for all fabrics and washer settings. They’re the perfect addition to my laundry routine.
As a household staple for many Latinos, as I know it was in my house growing up, the Suavitel® brand has become synonymous with a feeling of comfort reminds me of home, more specifically, my mom. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived in a house with my mom. I miss her often but when my home is filled with the fresh scent of Suavitel, like my mother’s house, it makes me feel closer to her. It brings us closer even when distance keeps us apart.
Suavitel® Fragrance Pearls™ in-wash scent boosters are now available at retailers nationwide in 21.5 oz., 14.7 oz. and 6oz. bottles. Available in two irresistible scents, the Fabulous Field Flowers® and Soothing Lavender® variants of Suavitel® Fragrance Pearls™ in-wash-scent boosters deliver longer lasting freshness to your family’s laundry. I love them because they make that feeling of being home, even when I’m away from home, last longer.
Remember, you can add just a little or a lot. It all depends on what you want out of your fragrance booster. I prefer a lot because I want the smell of fresh laundered linens to greet me every time I enter my house.
If not Suavitel, what smell reminds you of home?
2015/07/09
Kindergarten Teacher, Thomas Washburn, Removes 6-Year-Old Girls Shirt in a Fit of Anger & Leaves her Exposed in Front of the Entire Class
An Arizona Kindergarten teacher, Thomas Washburn, faces 26 counts of indecent exposure and one count of child abuse after he allegedly removed a 6-year-old girl’s shirt and left her naked from the waist up in a packed classroom. He did what????
Thomas Washburn, 54, a teacher at Adams Elementary School in Mesa, Arizona was arrested Wednesday when the incident was reported by the little girl’s mom and is now on “PAID” leave. Meanwhile, the little girl is humiliated and traumatized. This man should be locked up in jail.
Police said that something upset Washburn, who then started shouting in the classroom filled with 24 kindergarteners and an adult aide. The loud outburst frightened the little girl so badly that she hid her face in the top of her shirt. I know, as parents, we sometimes have these moments of insanity where we do something unconventional but that is our own children and it doesn’t happen in front of 24 of their peers and we aren’t strange men ripping their clothes off and leaving them naked and exposed.
Further infuriated by the little girl’s behavior, Washburn told the little girl to take her face out of the shirt. When she did not comply, he took her shirt off of her, leaving her naked from the waist up in front of her classmates for about 10 minutes. The little girl began crying, presumably a combination of the fright of having her shirt ripped off of her by a crazed old man, someone she trusted, and being naked in front of her classmates. Eventually, the sonofabitch returned her clothes. This makes me want to bust this guy in the face with a ball bat. I’ve had a teacher pull my kindergartener to the front of the class to point out that her uniform was not to code and that was enough to make me livid. I not only approached the teacher and told her in no uncertain terms that she was to NEVER embarrass my child again but I even contacted the principal because, in my mind, this is not acceptable to do to a child. If she would have removed a piece of clothing or touched her, I’m certain I would have physically hurt her.
To make matters worse, the victim’s mother said her daughter was born prematurely and is “developmentally delayed.” This man is a piece of garbage and clearly does not need to be teaching in the classroom.
Ok, that was what the report said, more or less, now let me tell you what I think. You see I have a 6-year-old girl and believe me when I tell you that if a teacher, male or female, ripped my kids shirt off of her in a fit of rage or what the fuck ever was going on, this person should expect to feel the full wrath of myself and my husband. I’m saying this asshole should hide because I’d be at his house to collect him with a ball bat, take him to the mall and strip him down in front of the world to let him stand there on display with his bad attitude and his little dick in humiliation for the full ten minutes in which he let the child do the same and then I would beat him with the said bat. This asshole should not be allowed alone with children. He obviously has some sort of anger issue and has no clue as to how to handle an uncooperative child. He needs to lose his job and be punished for this for the rest of his life because by doing what he did, that will follow that little girl for the rest of her life. She will be afraid of grown men in positions of power and feel vulnerable and threatened. As far as I am concerned, this man is an animal and belongs in a cage.
If he couldn’t handle the crazy unrest of 6-year-olds than he should have stayed the hell out of a kindergarten classroom. He should have walked away. No matter what was going on in his life to make him have a bad day, his responsibility is to protect and teach those children and there is an expectation from those parents who are leaving their child in his care that he actually CARES for their child, not humiliates them in front of the class.
What would you do if a teacher did this to your 6-year-old?
2014/01/18