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Breast Cancer Awareness and How to be Proactive about Breast Health
Disclosure: This is a sponsored post written in collaboration with Touchstone Crystal by Swarovski but all opinions about breast cancer and breast health are my own.
Breast Cancer awareness is a big deal to me. It’s not about pink anything or freeing tatas or any of that. It’s about women’s health and helping those who are diagnosed survive. Cancer’s a bitch. Awareness is about a cure. It’s about keeping the women we love alive by teaching women to perform self-breast exams, to know the signs and symptoms of breast cancer and encouraging women to get their annual mammograms.
We women need to become more proactive about our breast health. We spend our lives putting other’s needs ahead of our own but they need us. We know that and if that’s the case, isn’t it our responsibility to take care of ourselves so that we can be around for them?
I get it, the thought of a mammogram is a bit daunting, especially your first one. I’ve had 2 and I was definitely a little nervous before the first one but it’s nothing. You get to wear a nifty half top, you go into a room and (if you’re lucky) a really nice nurse will explain it all to you and then she’ll situate your breast when she places it in the machine. It is a little snug. I am rather well-endowed and I have dense breast tissue and we have to make sure everything is in the scan. Honestly, the most uncomfortable thing about the whole thing is if your nurse has cold hands. Luckily, mine was courteous and warmed hers up first. It only takes a few minutes and it can save your life so get over yourself and do it.
There are a lot of great resources for women readily available to us these days like the National Breast Cancer Awareness organization. Right now, you can sign up for a free e-book, The Breast Health Guide What every woman needs to know. It includes tips on how to be breast health aware and includes questions to ask your doctor.
I thank God that my have friends have survived breast cancer with the help of successful breast cancer treatment and procedures like breast reduction surgery and many others. Luckily, as more is learned about breast cancer we can be more proactive in catching it before it infiltrates the rest of our body. Breast cancer is the most common cancer diagnosed in women in the United States, other than skin cancer and is the second leading cause of death in women. The scariest statistic? The chance of a woman developing breast cancer sometime in her/my/your lifetime is about 1 in 8.
We’ve made great strides in research and currently, we even have genetic screenings in place to look for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 markers in women who might be predisposed to getting breast cancer but there is more to be done. We can’t stop until we eradicate this disease.
BRCA1 and BRCA2 are human genes that produce tumor suppressor proteins. These proteins help repair damaged DNA and, therefore, play a role in ensuring the stability of the cell’s genetic material. When either of these genes is mutated, or altered, such that its protein product either is not made or does not function correctly, DNA damage may not be repaired properly. As a result, cells are more likely to develop additional genetic alterations that can lead to cancer.
Specific inherited mutations in BRCA1 and BRCA2 increase the risk of female breast and ovarian cancers, and they have been associated with increased risks of several additional types of cancer. Together, BRCA1 and BRCA2 mutations account for about 20 to 25 percent of hereditary breast cancers and about 5 to 10 percent of all breast cancers. In addition, mutations in BRCA1 and BRCA2 account for around 15 percent of ovarian cancers overall. Breast and ovarian cancers associated with BRCA1 and BRCA2 mutations tend to develop at younger ages than their nonhereditary counterparts.
A harmful BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutation can be inherited from a person’s mother or father. Each child of a parent who carries a mutation in one of these genes has a 50 percent chance (or 1 chance in 2) of inheriting the mutation. The effects of mutations in BRCA1 andBRCA2 are seen even when a person’s second copy of the gene is normal.
A woman’s lifetime risk of developing breast and/or ovarian cancer is greatly increased if she inherits a harmful mutation in BRCA1 or BRCA2.
Breast cancer: About 12 percent of women in the general population will develop breast cancer sometime during their lives. By contrast, according to the most recent estimates, 55 to 65 percent of women who inherit a harmful BRCA1 mutation and around 45 percent of women who inherit a harmful BRCA2 mutation will develop breast cancer by age 70 years.
Ovarian cancer: About 1.3 percent of women in the general population will develop ovarian cancer sometime during their lives. By contrast, according to the most recent estimates, 39 percent of women who inherit a harmful BRCA1 mutation and 11 to 17 percent of women who inherit a harmful BRCA2 mutation will develop ovarian cancer by age 70 years.
We’ve all seen the Pink Ribbon, the universal symbol for breast health. But it’s much more than that. It’s an international symbol for hope for a cure and, to me, survival; either survival of one badass woman who beat breast cancer or a family member who survived losing someone to breast cancer. Either way, that little pink ribbon signifies female strength at the highest level.
Touchstone Crystal created some pieces in honor of the American Cancer Society Making Strides Against Breast Cancer initiative, which supports women in the fight against breast cancer. A portion of the proceeds from the sale of these products will be donated to the American Cancer Society.
To find out more, click here.
Touchstone provided me with a beautiful dainty Pink Ribbon for Breast Cancer Awareness necklace. It’s absolutely gorgeous and so delicate and feminine. I love it but I’m sending mine on to a friend who just celebrated her 10th breast cancer-free anniversary. She found out she had breast cancer when her daughter was just a newborn. She is one of the kindest and sweetest women that I’ve ever known and the world would be a far less interesting place without her in it. She also happens to be a total badass cancer survivor.
Touchstone Crystal is also providing me a necklace to give to one lucky reader. For the chance to win one for yourself or to give to someone in your life who is struggling with or has survived cancer enter below.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

2016/10/26
How to Survive Summertime Parenting
Ever find yourself wondering how to survive summertime parenting? Oh yeah, it’s definitely different from school year parenting. Sure, at first you think it’s going to be all sleeping in and hanging out and then you realize that you’re not on summer break, just the kids are. You, my friend, are about to start working double time. That’s when your “oh Ish” moment hits you like a ton of bricks.
Summer has been blasting by and I still feel like I haven’t slept in. Well, I lied, there were those 3 days back in June where we all slept in until 10 a.m. Yep, those were a magical 3 days and here it is time for school to start back in a couple of weeks.
I don’t know about you, but when I am immersed in chaos all day, I need downtime…”me” time. Just me. It’s not about being selfish, it is about survival. During the school year, it’s nice because the girls go to bed on a schedule and I know after 9 p.m., I can spend a couple hours catching up on my favorite shows before going to bed. That’s my “me” time. Me, just chilling out, not having to be anywhere or do anything or be anyone to anybody. It’s my 2 hours of the day that are just.for.me.
I know that it sounds crazy that only 2 hours of the day are for me, but if you are a parent, you understand. The moment that baby comes into the world, you are forever number 2 in your own life and with each child, you fall further down the line. If that’s not how you are rolling, please tell me your secret because by the time I get everyone else taken care of…I’m just too tired to care about me. My priority is sleep but before I can sleep, I must decompress.
What do you do to survive summertime parenting and decompress?
The thing is during the summer months, this entire situation goes to hell in a handbasket. Sure, it is filled with long days at the pool, traveling, sunshine, barbecues, entertaining, bike rides and all that stuff your pasty white life is missing the other 9 months of the year so how can you refuse when your child, who only has 6 more summers in your house, asks you to forgo your “me” time for some “we” time? You don’t. You give her all of it because damn it, 6 more years is not long enough.
Sounds wonderful, right? It is. Mostly. Except, even though my heart wants to give her all the “we” time I can. My brain needs a break. I need to decompress before I explode. She’s off for the summer because of school but I still have to work, now with kids home asking me to stop working to go someplace or do something or swim or bike or hike or make brownies or have a gaggle of 12-year-old girls spend the night. Do you have any idea how much 12-year-old girls talk? More. Than.me! I didn’t even think that was humanly possible.
So, I do all the things. I never exhale until they go to bed, which is no longer between 8 and 9 pm. Nope, I have 2 tweens, so sometimes while I’m trying to decompress bingeing out on GLOW, Friends from College, Sons of Anarchy, Dear White People, Ozark, Orange is the New Black or The Incredible Jessica James (yes, I binge more than one show at a time) on Netflix, they saunter in at 10 p.m. to tell me what Kelly and Amy said about Jessica and Brittney and I listen because I’m a mom and pretty soon, they won’t want to talk to me at all. It’s like they can feel the shift in the universe when I start to relax and they can’t let that happen.

Though I must admit, sometimes, I want to run my head into the wall because I just would rather find out what Jax is going to do to Clay than why one 12-year-old girl thinks another 12-year-old girl doesn’t like her because she didn’t notice that she was wearing a new bobbi pin. I mean cheese and rice; how many years did I endure Calliou? Calliou!!!That whiny little bald child and Max and a Ruby, where were their parents? Not listening to whining, that’s where. And now, they won’t even let me get through one episode without busting in to ask me why the sky is blue?
Don’t get me wrong, I want to know everything my girls want to tell me. I am all about the open dialogue but remember when the kids were toddlers and they kept asking for water from the bed so they could stall out bedtime? Yep, I think talking this bobbi pin situation is a bedtime stalling technique and I’d just rather turn my brain off and watch the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling body slam each other all over the place. I don’t want to worry about how a bobbi pin is going to put my tweens into therapy. It’s too much.
I really think my bingeing makes me a better mom to them. I need that alone time to feel like a person who has adult thoughts and isn’t just someone’s mom. Seriously, I’m so used to being referred to as Bella and Gabi’s mom that I find myself in the grocery story walking between a person and a shelf saying, “excuse us” even when I’m alone because, really, I’m never alone. As a mom, my kids are always with me, on my mind. I desperately need those bingeing after dark nights to center.
I hear things like yoga and working out help too but really, I’d rather just take a hot shower, throw on my pjs and chill with the Big Guy (or alone) and watch Netflix in beautiful silence, with only the sweet sound of Jax Teller telling people to get the eff out of his way or he’ll shoot them in the face. Call me weird, but I find it quite soothing. The point is I don’t feel guilty about bingeing. I need it. They need it. You need it.
What do you do to decompress? Do you ever sneak and binge watch shows? What’s your favorite Netflix sneak and binge?
Disclosure: I am a Netflix Stream Team member but my full on Netflix addiction was in place way before I was part of the team and the tips to survive summertime parenting are all me.
Update: So as I was looking for pictures for this post, I realized my kids are awesome. We had so much fun this summer but still, even with all that love I’ve got for them…I need some for myself too.
2017/07/30
How Scrambled Eggs Made My Marriage Sexy Again
How scrambled eggs made my marriage sexy again or as I like to say, the truest marriage story ever told.
Marriage is different for every single couple. We all have these preconceived notions of what a marriage should look like based on what we experienced within in our own family. On top of that, we all view love from the perspective of our love language; and apparently most of us don’t speak the same language.
For me, my parents’ marriage looked like two people who loved each other, except for when they didn’t. There was a lot of physical attraction and affection but there were definite gender roles. There was no shortage of PDA in our house but they were not equals.
In their marriage, they were not equals and neither spoke the other’s love language.
My dad was in charge and my mom was slightly above the children in her social standing within the family. He took care of her and she liked that but the price of being taken care of was being treated like a dependent instead of a partner. I knew then that was not what I wanted out of a marriage. What I wanted was a strong man who could handle a strong woman. I wanted us to be in life together.
My dad took care of the outside things like going to a job and providing for us, barbecuing, taking care of the cars and the lawn. My mom took care of everything inside the house, including the six children and all the household chores, grocery shopping, kissing booboos and cooking. Never did the two roles meet. That’s not how my marriage is.at.all.
My marriage is equal.
Our marriage is one of partners. I know everybody says it, but my husband really has been my best friend since college. We do what we are good at. Sometimes we do fall into those traditional roles. My dad taught me how to change the oil and my tires but I haven’t since I met my husband. I used to mow the lawn but my husband does to so mostly, I let him do it. Of course, I don’t see anyone fist fighting the cleaning fairy to do the dishes up in this mother but if I ask, the Big Guy always jumps in and loads the dishwasher. And the man is a clothes washing beast on the weekends. Folding? No, that’s another story.
But overall we both do whatever needs to be done. But I do work from home so it’s always just been assumed, by both of us, that I will do the drop offs, pick-ups and volunteering. I pack the lunches and make most of the meals. Though he is always willing to make dinner on the weekends and any night the girls and I are stuck late at ballet. To be honest, he is a much better cook than me.
My husband is pretty freaking awesome. I mean he’s married to me and he’s never asked me to be anything less than who I am and believe me, I am a handful. He’s my biggest cheerleader and my partner in this crime we call parenting. But he did something the other morning that took him to a next level. Yes, the man just leveled up on his husband game. I didn’t even think it was possible. I mean, if you ever talk to my mom she will tell you, he is a damn good man. Seems, the Big Guy is fluent in my love language. He might not speak Spanish, but he is a native speaker in Debi.
In one small chore for husbands, one giant leap for husband-kind he became the sexiest man alive over breakfast on Tuesday. He did something so small but so huge that I can’t believe every husband hasn’t offered to do it. If they only knew the benefits they would reap, there would be an epidemic of feminist men.
Firstly, let me preface this by saying that last week, out of the blue for the first time in 7 years of having children in school, he offered to start dropping the girls at school on the regular. He does it when I need him to but he offered to do it daily. For no reason.
This act of service instantly spoke to my love language.
First, I was shocked. Then I assumed that he must be having an affair and then I was so giddy to know that he was going to get them to school that I convinced myself I could forgive the affair. ( Babe, if you are reading this….I’m just kidding, you know the rules.) That means I no longer have to argue with them about being late (they don’t pull that shit with him), I don’t stress out for the first hour of my day AND I gained an extra hour to my day. It’s brilliant and I’m not going to lie, he got my juices flowing with this out of the blue act of kindness.
I mean, he’s thoughtful and sweet and caring and all those other things but he’s human. Both of us always consider the other one but no one is going out of their way to eliminate the normal day-to-day minutia.
Then, on Tuesday, he blew my mind. He got up, already going to give them a ride to school, and he made them breakfast. BOOM! What? I almost fell over dead because I didn’t even ask him to do it. There he was, like a freaking sexy angel, making the girls scrambled eggs. That eliminated the, “What do you want for breakfast” headache, leaving me with only the, “What do you want for lunch,” struggle. I didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with this man but I did. Not going to lie, it took everything in my body, not to throw him on the counter and take him right there. Anyways, apparently, scrambling eggs for kids gets my motor running these days. Remember when it was a nice ass and abs?
Anyways, that ignited something in me and my husband has gone from regular, old “I love you” sexy to hottest mother effer on the planet. I’ve spent all day the last two days trying to figure out how to kick things up to carnival ride status in the bedroom because him making scrambled eggs, more importantly alleviating the need for me to do so, has just made me want to rock his world. His love language is physical touch.
Now, if I could just get the girls to stay out of our bed maybe I could thank him properly for those scrambled eggs.
That’s how scrambled eggs made my husband the sexiest man alive. What little thing does your partner do that speaks directly to your love language?
2017/01/18
Once a Cheater, Always a cheater
Are you a cheater? Have you ever told the person that you love the most a lie to satisfy your own id? I think most of us have, right? At first you think, who’s it going to hurt. Don’t ask; don’t tell. More like take the junk to the grave. If you’re going to cheat, the least you can do is keep it to yourself. Telling your partner that you’ve cheated is not going to help them at all. You did the crime, now do the time. Live with your guilt.
You see, this is why the Big Guy and I can’t ever do the Netflix and chill thing. He is all about the chill part but not about the Netflix binge part. I’m a closer. I like to pick my show and then binge it to the end. I am nothing if not committed to finishing my shows. So sometimes, I have to cheat.
He knows I do it. We don’t discuss it. It’s not a big deal. We are open about it. I am just not built to be a once-in-awhile show watcher. We’ve actually just given up trying because it’s just too frustrating and someone always gets hurt so we’ve decided it’s just easier if he does him and I do me.
For example, we started watching One Day at a Time Together but he likes to savor the moments and draw out the season. I am more of a wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am! Kind of a gal so he falls asleep and I watch until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. Needless to say, I finished the series in a weekend and he still hasn’t caught up. It really was THAT good.
Then there was A Series of Unfortunate Events that we just couldn’t agree on a time to watch it so I watched it with the girls and he watched it while we were at ballet. We all agreed that the show was definitely cheat worthy because we all loved it.
But then there are shows like the Santa Clarita Diet that we all must watch together. It’s the kind of show that brings us back together and reminds us of why we fell in love in the first place, because we just get each other completely.
I’d definitely hide a body for him and I’m pretty sure he’d do just about anything in his power to keep me from turning into a zombie. I mean, I’m pretty difficult just when I’m hangry. I’d never cheat on him by watching the Santa Clarita Diet alone.

But then again, I won’t lie, when House of Cards returns this May, I won’t even pretend that I’m not doing it. The simple fact is that I will be cheating my way through it within a weekend. But don’t feel too bad for the Big Guy, I’ll be doing the Netflixing but we’ll be doing the chillin’ together. He’s the only one I ever want to Netflix and Chill with. I mean come on, I’m a show cheater not a real one.
What Netflix show can you not help but cheating and watching ahead on? Come on you can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.
Disclosure: This post was not compensated though I am a member of the Stream Team. All opinions and binge watching habits are my own.
2017/02/26
Everything You Want is On the Other Side of Fear
Disclosure: This is a compensated campaign in collaboration with Chase and #WeAllGrow Latina Network but all opinions about conquering your credit are my own.
I suffer from a raging case of imposter syndrome. I think most people do. I used to be constantly terrified of failure but then I embraced the failure is not an option mantra. Rather, I realized that failure is always a possibility but letting it get the best of you is not. Life knocks you down, you get right back up again. You might not succeed the very first time you try something but you keep trying that’s what makes you a true success.
My dad raised us to never let fear keep me from trying because everything you ever want is on the other side of fear. Think about it, everything you ever wanted was right there, right past the fear. You just have to make the choice to push through. If you don’t try, you will never succeed. That’s a fact. Not trying equals, a 100% failure ratio. Sometimes trying is painful but it’s almost always worth it.
I never imagined that one day one of my biggest fears would be facing my own financial reality and conquering my credit.
It’s scary. Believe me, I know. I’ve taken some chances in my life. Done things that made no sense and risked it all but in the end, they were what was right for me and really, that’s the best you can hope for, a life well-lived.
I’m the girl who said yes to a marriage proposal after only 4-months of dating. If that’s not crazy, I don’t know what is. Was I scared? Yes, I was absolutely terrified. Marrying someone is one of the biggest decisions of your life. It took me a few days to answer because I was so afraid of making the wrong decision because getting engaged after 4 months defies logic.
It came down to one simple question, “Do you want to live your life without this man in it?” All the confusion fell away and I said yes because for me it was scarier to think of my life without him than making the decision to marry someone after only knowing them for 4 months. In my heart, I knew that he was my person. Since then, we’ve grown up together. There were mistakes and missteps along the way but together we figure it out.
I spent my childhood poor so taking financial risks has never been my jam. I’m a saver, sometimes I’m even a little stingy now. But when I met my husband, he wanted me to have everything I wanted. He encouraged me to treat myself and I was pretty easily convinced.
At about the same time we started planning our wedding, every credit card company on earth was in our quad at the university handing out “preapproved” credit cards to anyone who wanted one. I took them because I had a wedding to plan and my parents couldn’t afford to pay for it. That was my first of many financial mistakes that have led me to this road of conquering my credit.
I spent on the credit cards like it was Monopoly money. It didn’t feel real because it wasn’t immediately coming out of my bank account. But the bills, the interest and the late payments, they were all very real and still are. I am still paying for my wedding. Did I mention that we’ve been married forever? Interest rates are serious business and paying minimums are for suckers. Consider that some free advice from me to you.
I’ve grown up a lot since I was that girl who got engaged in college after 4 months of dating and taking all the “preapproved” credit cards in the quad. Once I had children, I really began to see the error of my ways but it felt like I was in a credit hole that I’d never be able to crawl out of. I knew I had to for my children. Kids cost money and it was time to get control of our finances. But how do you take control of a runaway train?
Here are a few tips for conquering your credit and regaining your financial stability:
Tackling your credit score can be intimidating, especially if you don’t know exactly where you stand so the first step to optimal financial health is being brave and finding out what your credit score is and what your credit report looks like. It’s not something you can look at once and forget about it. Just like your body’s health, you need to do the right things to maintain a healthy financial health and believe it or not, stressing over finances can have a negative effect on your actual health.
With the help of a business consultant, like the ones in Wimgo, you can quickly learn the various methods to manage your credit and then utilize those that work best for you. For instance, I learned that some cards have no interest rate at all. Also, some cards offer great points programs or discounts on merchandise if you use their card. Consider all of that when you make your purchases.
I also learned that it is bad to close cards when you still have a balance on them. It’s better to keep them open and not spend on them. Also, transferring high balance cards to 0% interest or lower interest rate cards can definitely help you get a better bang for your buck.
Inform yourself and gather all of the financial knowledge you can. It’s not just about credit. You need to be aware of spending habits, saving opportunities and how these choices will affect you and your family not only today but in the long run. I know it feels like we were all just in the quad, wearing flip flops and taking credit cards but before you know it kids are off to college and retirement is right around the corner. By the way, talk to your kids about financial responsibility now not after they’ve gotten all the preapproved credit cards at university.
I started tracking everything we spend and where it goes. I found out really quickly that we were wasting money on conveniences like eating out often (bad for both your actual health and your financial health), coffee and only paying the minimums on credit cards. If you look at your credit card statements, below where it shows your interest rate it shows how long it will take paying only the minimum and it’s usually something like 12 years. Then it shows you that if you pay a slightly higher amount (seriously it’s like $15-25) per month you can pay off the balance in 3 years and save yourself, in some cases, thousands of dollars. Do that. And always pay on time!
Use tools that empower you to make savvy financial decisions and manage your credit with confidence. Tackling your finances can be terrifying because you are afraid of what you might find, but this is the time to face your fears and conquer your credit and give yourself the freedom to feel confident in your finances. One of the lesser-known secrets to achieve financial stability is through investing in the stock market.
Also, one last thing I learned, the lower your balance and the better your credit, the easier it is to negotiate lower interest rates. Something to consider.
If you’d like to learn how to #ConquerYourCredit visit the Chase Slate Credit Card webpage for additional information and stop letting fear hold you back from living the big, beautiful life that you are meant to live.
How are you conquering your credit?
This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Chase and #WeAllGrow Latina Network. The opinions and text are all mine.

2017/04/18
Are Eating Disorders Genetic?

Have you ever wondered are eating disorders genetic? I have since the day I gave birth to my first daughter because the last thing I wanted to pass down to my girls were eating disorders. Many of you know that I have been in recovery from bulimia and anorexia for nearly 20 years, with very few slip-ups. But eating disorders don’t just magically leave, they plague you for life. It’s impossible to unlearn those behaviors and almost as hard not to act upon your instinct. I know that’s not what anyone wants to hear but it is my truth.
Today, it finally happened. A day I’ve been dreading since she was born. The day she compared herself to me. One in which I had to really consider …
Are eating disorders genetic?
Unfortunately, my research says, yes, eating disorders are, in fact, genetic just like Bipolar disorder, depression and so many other mental illnesses. We like to think we can protect our children from illnesses but what do we do when we are the very people who gave them the genes to develop the disorder? It’s through no fault of our own. We can do everything right and still not be able to protect them from these kinds of things. I’ve tried my best to do everything right and I am super aware of the behaviors because of my own experience but what if none of that can stop any of it?
For me, there is no competition. She is better than me in every single way. She is a tall, leggy blonde with blue eyes that smile, a sweet voice and the perfect peaches and cream complexion. Bella is everything I hoped to be as a young girl. Smarter, more graceful and stronger than I was at her age. She is independent, cultured and not afraid to stand up for herself and for what’s right. She is my idea of perfection.
In many ways, we are alike. That strong, independent bossy streak that runs deep in her, is all me. Her smile, me too. The intelligence, well she got that from both of us and the culture is something I have been instilling from birth. However, the tall, graceful leggy blonde is not me at all.
I have always been average to tall, 5’7”, dark hair, hazel ish-brown eyes and small-boned. My parents are not big people. My mom is 5’3” and my dad is probably around 5’10”. So, I was always the youngest and often one of the smaller kids in the class.
Today, as I was cleaning out my attic to prepare for the yearly garage sale, I was pretty excited because I have a bunch of “vintage” clothing that my newly 12-year-old can rock. These are pieces I loved but just will never look right on me again. I’m not 21 anymore and I’ve birthed 2 children; half tops and low-rise flared jeans are just not appropriate for me in my current situation. Read; an adult with some junk in the trunk and a tiny spare tire.
Anyways, as we sifted through the tubs, I got very excited because I was excited to pass these pieces on. Then it hit me, she is bigger than me now then I was at 21 ( because I was 3 years deep into my eating disorders; I was anorexic.) I knew this might happen, I’d planned to adjust for it but I forgot.
You see, a few months back, I told my oldest about my eating disorders as a preemptive strike. Now, I really struggled with whether or not I should tell the girls because I don’t want them to think less of me, think it’s ok or, worse still, be responsible for planting that seed in their brain. She’s almost taller than me now.
Her feet are passing me by and I noticed that when I tried to give her a pair of my shoes, she compared her feet to mine. Firstly, we have different builds. Secondly, she is a ballet dancer who dances in pointe; wide feet are a by-product. But none of that matters because she was comparing herself to me and I was the bar by which she was measuring herself. She judged her difference as a deficit. I assured her that different does not mean less than, it only means not the same.
Today, as we sifted again through the bins, she began trying things on. Things she knew I wore to my bridal shower and on our honeymoon and I could see her judging herself. It broke my heart. I had to jump in and explain that we have different builds and that I was not healthy when I was that size, the size that is smaller than a 12-year-old child. In all honesty, my 9-year-old happily accepted and fits into one of my favorite outfits from when I was 25. I was sick. Death was very possibile and none of that is ok.
I try to explain that I had already gone through puberty and my shape was different than hers is now. I also explained how I had no boobs and hairy legs when I was her age; to give her some perspective. Still, I saw the defeat in her eyes when she tried on one of my favorite skirts from the 90’s and she couldn’t fasten it.
The feeling is familiar. I wasn’t a fat teenager but I felt huge compared to my mom. My mom’s clothese got too small for me around the same time. This was also the same time; I began my lifelong battle with body dysmorphic disorder so all of this is scaring the shit out of me. Like, I am literally lying awake at night wondering how this is all going to play out and praying that eating disorders are not genetic because they never go away. There is no cure. You are just in a constant state of recovery for the rest of your life. I don’t want that for my girls.
To this day, I follow girls in recovery on Instagram. I’m invested in their recovery from eating disorders. Part of it is because I miss being in control like that and part of it is to cheer them on in their recovery. I want them to get better; to survive and have a life and a family and be able to eat food without mental anguish; cruelty-free without torture. But then I get this thought in my head, what if I’m cheering them on and they see me, overweight now, and relapse?
I’m terrified that the size of my clothes are going to push my daughter in that direction. She is almost as tall as me and she is going to be much taller. She is more athletica than I ever was. Her father is bigger than my father. She is buying S/M in clothes and I am L/XL and I am afraid she is going to see the gap narrowing too much and see herself as bigger than she is. So, I have to get healthier so I don’t negatively affect the way she sees herself.
Believe me, I know this might sound crazy to many of you, especially if you’ve never had eating disorders but if you have, you know what I am talking about. If the universe demands one of us be sick or feel bad or unhappy.Let it be me.
I may not be able to change her genetic makeup and predispositions but I can certainly be aware and be present and try my hardest to not let genetics outrank my nurturing. Maybe the answer to the question, “are eating disorders genetic?” might be yes but the outcome doesn’t have to be the same as it was for me.
2017/05/07
How Your Voice Can Change the Internet
Disclosure: This is a sponsored post for Nielsen. I have been compensated through the SheSavvy Influence Network. All opinions remain my own.
You all know that I love entertainment; television, music, movies and live productions are my jam. It’s always been my outlet since I was a child, the way I decompress. I just never knew how important it was to me until I was bedridden when I broke my leg in 2015. That’s when I realized entertainment keeps the mind agile, even when the body is immobile. But who decides what works and what doesn’t?
Have you ever heard of Nielsen, as in the Nielsen ratings?
Nielsen is the leader in TV, radio, and Internet measurement. I’ve always associated the name with television but it is so much more. They are the people who figure out what should be on television based on what the viewers want. Luckily, they understand that people who watch TV, listen to radio, and use the internet come from diverse backgrounds and that’s why they make sure to reach out to African-American, Latino, Asian-American, and other communities to ensure everyone’s voices are heard. Each culture’s experience is different and we can relate to shows differently. This is important.
In fact, Nielsen has been the leading global research company that provides consumer insights to businesses for 90 years and work in over 100 countries. They partner with real people to provide the science behind what’s next. They do research all over the world to find out what real people watch, listen to and buy.
In today’s digital age, just like their work with TV and radio, Nielsen wants to better understand how people use their computers and mobile devices so that they can provide insights to those providers that give us the best user experience.
Like with television and radio, Nielsen does this with online panels, people just like you and I. This gives us an opportunity to voice our opinions and provide honest insights that can help improve our online experience. We can make our voices heard.
Being a member of the online panel is simple. You just sign up, fill out a registration survey, and download an app onto your computer(s) and/or mobile device(s). While your participation in a panel impacts the future of the Internet; it can also be rewarding! As soon as you download the app, you can start earning rewards like sweepstakes entries (for up to $1,000 per month!), gift cards and more.
So what is the Nielsen Computer and Mobile Panel?
The Nielsen Computer and Mobile Panel is our opportunity to be a part of the research Nielsen does. They analyze information from the panel to understand how people use their computers, tablets, and smartphones. Companies rely on this important research to make better decisions about the products and services they offer.
What are you signing up for as part of the Nielsen Computer and Mobile panel?
You will help Nielsen understand how people use the Internet by simply using the Internet on your computer or mobile device. By using the app, you’re signing up to become part of a “panel” and share your internet habits. Just be you, they want real feedback.
How does it work?
Sign up using your email address, fill out a registration survey, install the app on all your registered device(s) and start earning rewards. Simply, use your computer/ phone as you normally do and get rewarded for it. Even if you don’t use the Internet all day every day like me and only use the Internet once a month, your feedback still provides important insights.
What is in it for me? Does it cost money to participate in the Nielsen Computer and Mobile Panel?
Absolutely not! In fact, you will be rewarded for participating. Active members receive sweepstakes entries for their registered computers – you could win up to $1,000 per month! For participating with a mobile device, you can earn points that can be redeemed for prizes or gift cards—up to $50 per year!
Your participation will never cost you anything and no one will try to sell you anything but it’s vital to shaping the future of the internet. It gives you the opportunity to represent your community with your voice.
How does Nielsen protect my privacy?
They are committed to protecting the data and personal information you share with them. They will NOT use such information to advertise, promote, or sell goods or services directly to you and we do not allow their clients to sell directly to you. So they will not be selling their panelists list. Panelist data is automatically encrypted to help ensure complete security. The information about you and your household for research purposes. However, as part of the panel, Nielsen might contact you about future research opportunities.
It’s a win-win, you use your devices as you normally would and you get to influence the future of the Internet while possibly earning some extra cash for yourself. Being part of the Nielsen panel is simple and safe, like getting rewards for walking or breathing.
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2017/05/11
How to Change Bad Behavior with Exercise and Aquire Parenting Level Master Status
I found the cure to all bad habits and I can tell you the secret of how to change bad behavior with exercise! Nope, it has nothing to do with exerting yourself and distracting yourself. It has nothing to do with feeling better about yourself or being a better person. It’s much simpler than that and I promise you, it works. I am living proof. You can change bad behavior with exercise and achieve parenting level master status. It is discipline in the best way possible.
We all have bad habits. It’s the truth. I try to be a good example for my daughters. We want our children to grow up to be upstanding citizens of the world. We want them to go out into the world and be so fierce and fearless that they impress everyone they meet. We don’t want them to be jerks. One of my life goals is for people to meet my children throughout their life and be like, “Damn, that is one bada** woman!” At the same time, I want them to be like, “What a lady she is.” That’s my mom getting in my head.
I want my daughters to be the perfect lovechild of Audrey Hepburn, Maya Angelou and Lady Gaga. I want them to be fierce, caring and relentless in their pursuit of good and happiness. That’s what I’m going for but I want them to use their words. I want their words to be the vehicle that can gain them entry into any conversation in the world. I want their brains to be their sexiest body part.
I want them to be giving, loving and embrace life and love and people. I want them to live out loud with no walls or prejudices. I want them to fully appreciate the world they live in without fear or self-doubt. I think I am succeeding, or at least on trajectory with this path, with the exception of one small kink…using their words.
This is where it happens, this is what prompted me to figure out how to change bad behavior with exercise.
Yes, embarrassing as it is, I (the writer) have failed my children in the example of using their words. You see, I know a lot of words. I know all of the words. I am in love with the words. But sometimes, I am a lazy word user and I resort to profanity. GASP! I know shocking. Well, not really. Not if you’re a long time follower of me. I’ve been trying a lot harder to stop with the lazy words because I don’t want my girls to use all the lazy words. So, I made a decision and it is kind of shocking how well it has worked.
This is how to change bad behavior with exercise.
It’s actually very simple. I implemented a rule a few weeks ago that if you (collective you, as in my family) curse, that is an automatic 50 crunches and if you bicker and yell, that is an automatic 200 pushups and so began the hardest few days of my life. Just kidding, I’ve lived through a lot of hard stuff. I was not going to be broken by crunches and yet, 400 crunches in one day…it was pretty rough but it worked almost immediately. Who knew you could change bad behavior with exercise?
The thing that I’ve learned is that no amount of grounding, taking away of friends, tech or play dates will work to curb my children’s bad behavior. They respond much more astutely to positive reinforcement. I’m not surprised because I am the same way. I’d prefer to get a reward at the end of hard work than to not get punished. I learned when I was pretty young that I preferred to do what I wanted and suffer the consequences, that’s just how I work and unfortunately, I think I passed that strong will along to my daughters.
However, apparently, none of us love doing crunches. In fact, we despise them. Now, these were not your average run of the mill sit ups. These were those blasted ballet/ floor barre/ physical therapy ones meant to target your lower abdomen. No one works their lower abdomen. It’s not natural and it HURTS!
3 days is how long it took to cure me of my cursing habit. 2 days is all that it took for the girls to never want to use any sort of lazy word ever again. You see apparently, our lazy words are not worth getting off our lazy butts and doing 400 crunches. And the bickering, well, my girls hate push ups even more than crunches. Bickering has been at an all-time low. I can feel my sanity returning. It’s all fun and games until someone has to do exercise.
You see, I’m a die hard, forgiveness over permission gal but I had to be the example and so crunch away I did. I’m still doing 150 every day, just in case I stub my toe or something and need that sweet release plus, I could definitely live without a FUPA. It’s so simple to change bad behavior with exercise. Why did I never think of this before?
I’ve also realized that crunches can probably cure just about any bad habit we have. Think about it. You want to gamble, each bet is 100 crunches. You want to drink, each cocktail is 100 crunches. Want to eat that whole sleeve of Oreos? That will be 50 crunches per cookie, thank you. I’m pretty sure most of us would think twice before doing that again because I don’t know about you but a swear word is not worth 400 crunches and there are no cookies worth 50 crunches. Then again, at the very least, I’d be a heathen with great abs!
Would you have ever thought it was possible to change bad behavior with exercise?
2017/05/18
How to Raise Resilient Hardworking Children when Everyone Gets a Trophy
Calling all parents of snowflake babies do you ever find yourself confronted with how to raise resilient hardworking children in a world where everybody gets a trophy?
Yesterday, ballet youth company camp started and with that comes all of the excitement and pain that anything beautiful brings with it. I’ve taught the girls that beauty is pain since they were old enough to have their hair brushed. No point in bullshitting about it, right? It’s true anything that is beautiful in this world takes some pain to get there.
Ballet is no exception, especially when you’re dancing on pointe. Have you seen a ballerina’s feet? Those poor beautiful creatures, flit and leap all over that stage looking as graceful as gazelles while their feet are bleeding and being blistered and ripped to shreds. Beauty is pain, kids. Yet, they do it all with a smile on their face because, really, how creepy would a ballerina grimacing in pain be? We only see the end result, the beauty they create. We don’t see the ugly crying and pain behind the beauty.
Yesterday was the girls’ first day back to the ballet after a month off. My oldest tried to do footwork but we traveled 15 of the past 30 days and it’s pretty difficult to stay focused and get it done when you’re in a hotel room and Disney World or the beach is calling to you. I blame myself but I feel like kids need a summer. Anyways, it takes 3 days to start losing muscle memory and 2 weeks to build it back up, you do the math.
My oldest came home with 2 blood blisters on each pinky toe from pointe yesterday. This was to be expected but that doesn’t stop a 12-year-old from having an epic full-on drama meltdown. To be honest, I haven’t seen her this full-blown meltdown since she was about 3 but this was much worse.
She came out of camp with a stern look on her face and I knew something was wrong but she was quiet; that scary quiet that people get right before they go postal. I inquired, she snipped, as tired tweens who just danced for 8 hours are known to do and then we got to the car and the tears came. The tired frustration that comes with working hard and not feeling like you got to where you wanted to be frustration. The feeling of failure that no mom ever wants to see on her child’s face but is completely necessary to make her a functioning member of society.
Her first action was to tell me of all the horror and pain that she was experiencing from the blisters. I sat quietly until she was finished because I know sometimes we just have to vent and we don’t necessarily want to have anyone fix it for us. We just want them to listen so that we feel heard. I did that as she cried.
I’m still learning how to raise resilient hardworking children in this crazy world where they expect everything to be handed to them. So I thought for a moment.
Then I offered up multiple ways that I would help ease her blister pain when we got home; Advil, Neosporin, ice, Epsom salt, powder and a shoulder to cry on. I also provided some empathy to let her know that we’ve been there. Her father played soccer and I wore lots of new flats and pumps in middle and high school (breaking in shoes is no joke. We’ve had blisters a plenty.) This seemed to anger her because obviously, our blisters were not the same as her ballet blisters. She became a bit hulk like and raised her voice at me. I was losing my mom sympathy pretty quickly at this point.
I must have missed the memo where I was supposed to immediately tell her it was okay to quit. But, then again, apparently, she forgot that I am the mom who doesn’t quit. I am the person who believes if you commit to something, you have to honor the commitment; even if it’s not easy. I’ve built my life on the motto, where there is a will there is a way. I am a way finder, not a quitter and I am not raising quitters because that is not doing them any favors. Don’t get me wrong, I know there is a time to let things go but that is different than just quitting because life gets a little hard.
I understand she is a proud member of the snowflake generation (this is more my fault than hers) but it’s my job as her mother to teach her to live in the real world, not the Utopia that exists in her head where all things are handed to you because, as anyone who has ever held a job, paid a mortgage or had a child knows, you’ve got to work like your life depends on it to get ahead…because it does. There has to be a sense of urgency, with some pride and respect mixed in.
I’m not as mean as I might sound. I’ve never been the rub some dirt on it kind of mom. I’ve always been the Sana Sana, kiss all the booboos mom but maybe I’ve swung the pendulum too far in the other direction and she expects me to fix everything, without even trying to fix it herself. Then the Big Guy reminded me that this is her first time experiencing any sort of pain. I’ve lived a lifetime; there has been broken bones, cuts, scrapes, giving birth twice, gallstones, root canals and heartache aplenty but this is her first blister so I needed to remember that. Damn Big Guy and his even temperament.
I still felt it was my duty to explain to her, in my most compassionate demeanor I could muster after being eye-rolled at, that the things in life that we want to accomplish are worth working hard for. I explained that as an athlete (because believe me you, being a ballerina is being one of the most intense athletes there are) you have to work to build up muscle memory, strength, and stamina. Those things are not just a given, for anyone. Anyone who is dancing ballet at the performing level is working their asses off…through the pain, through the blisters.
Blisters are a part of life. Blisters on the body, blisters of the heart and blisters of the soul all hurt. No one likes blisters but there is a sense of accomplishment that comes with knowing that you did it, in spite of the blisters.
Update: My evil plan to raise resilient, good human beings is working. She just called and told me that she got 2 more blisters today. She cried the whole time (so did three other girls) but she finished and I told her how effing proud I was of her and that tonight, I will take care of those nasty, old blisters. Hey, what do you expect? I’m human. Sometimes, the reward for hard work is a little babying by your mama.
What is your best tip on how to raise resilient hardworking children in today’s everybody gets a trophy world?
2017/07/11
How to Teach Your Teen the Difference Between Love, Like and Infatuation
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to explain sex to my girls but what about how to know the difference between love, like and infatuation? It’s actually a very important discussion to have with your kids but how many parents actually have it? I’ve decided that honesty is the best thing to do. I want open dialogues with them about everything.
How many times have you been in love? Like really in love. I thought I was “in love” about 3 times before I actually was. You see, the problem was that I didn’t know what real love was so I kept thinking I was in love but really it was a crush, infatuation, and love but not true, unconditional, forever love. But each time it felt like “love” until I pulled my head out of the love fog and could see it for what it really was.
There was lots of casual dating but each “love” was necessary for the learning curve. If I hadn’t experienced each time I thought I was “in love” I wouldn’t have had any barometer by which to measure when the real thing happened.
Don’t get me wrong, they all had their purpose and I wouldn’t trade any of the experience. Our experiences make us into who we are and if it weren’t for all of those false love alarms, I never would have known when I stumbled backwards into a really good guy and a healthy relationship.
What is the Difference between Love, Like and Infatuation?
Remember when you were in high school, maybe even college, and you fell in love and it was all consuming and insatiable? It was all you could think about and all you cared about. Anytime day or night, all you wanted was to be with that other person. You would have crawled inside of that person and lived if it were possible. Making love was truly an other worldly experience. You could not satisfy your craving for that person.
Remember those days when you were so in love that it hurt your stomach? When seeing that person was the most important part of your day? Remember thinking to yourself, or maybe even saying it out loud, I would die for you? And you meant it. If someone walked into the room and it came down to you and him, you would surely jump in front of that bullet because you loved him so hard that if he died life wouldn’t be worth living any ways, so why not sacrifice your life for his?
Were we stupid? Or was our baby brains just too consumed and overwhelmed by feeling love for someone other than our parents and complicated by all of those hormones that we just couldn’t process it? We knew our parents loved us and they would take a bullet for us so isn’t it logical that we take a bullet for the person who we love beyond all reason and comprehension? I used to think so.
I was one of “those” girls. I loved being in love. I loved loving someone and I loved the thought of someone loving me. Someone wanting me. Wanting to possess me. Someone not being able to live without me. It thrilled me. I believed that was the measure of true love. Someone willing to die for me. Anything less was bullshit. But as most teenagers, I was delusional. I saw undying devotion in the simplest of tasks. He pulled the chair out for me and cupped my face when he kissed me. He must love me. He surprised me with a single rose and my favorite candy at the drive-in, this must be “IT”. Wow, it’s easy to believe bullshit when you’ve never had the real thing, isn’t it?
Anyways, that passion was electric. It was the kind of “love” that had you feeling manic all the time. Coming from an actual person diagnosed with bipolar, that is saying something. I lived in that high to the exclusion of all else. Nothing else mattered and that was the measure of “real love” to me, for a very long time. I thought if it wasn’t all consuming and in crisis and threatened, it couldn’t be the real thing because the real thing was messy and it f*cked you both up beyond all recognition because that passion fire burns hot and high and hard, all.the.time. What I didn’t realize it that it burns out and leaves you both in a pile of ashes. If it was really intense, it could almost kill you both. But, adult me realizes that is crazy. I don’t want love that kills me. That’s poison.
I learned to live on that high. I craved it as much as I craved love. Then I fell in real love and I realized what I was doing up until then, was accepting what I had been taught to believe was love from the dysfunctional example of my parents and from movies. I believed that for it to be “love” it had to be “go hard or go home” at all times because love is work and if you love someone, you have to be willing to love them so hard that it might kill them and you have to be willing to die for them. I was a child and when you are a child, the world works in absolutes but as I grew up, I realized that real love doesn’t live in absolutes. It thrives in the grey area.
How important is it to distinguish the difference between love, like and infatuation?
For me, it wasn’t about dying for someone or killing for them. It was about being willing to live for them. Not in the “everything I do is for you” way like in all of those sappy love songs that we swoon over when we are kids. I mean in the “I love you so much that I want as many days on this earth as I can get with you” way. As a mother, it’s important to tell your precious daughters about dating guys so they can have a wonderful relationship.
In the way that makes the stupid things you’re doing fall away and life get clear. When I met my husband, I was a hot mess, in every sense of the word. I wasn’t even living my own life. I was living other people’s expectations and I was basing my happiness on someone else. Then I met the Big Guy. He put me first (maybe for the first time I had ever been first in my life) and my thinking shifted. I no longer had to be on the defensive. I didn’t have to be the aggressor. I just had to be me.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to throw up every morsel of food that went into my mouth. I wanted to live and my 10-year slow suicide by anorexia plan wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to live and I didn’t want him to know just how dysfunctional I really was. So, I started working towards getting better. I got help.
He saw the messed up ugly side of me almost immediately. I was an undiagnosed manic bipolar, anorexic with body dysmorphia and a self-medicating drinking problem. I was fun, then I was raging, mean and completely irrational. It was pretty hard to hide from anyone who was paying attention.
I had developed a bad habit of pushing anyone who wanted to get close to me away. I had long passed the wanting to crawl inside of someone phase. I was selfish and borderline and convinced that I was unlovable because up to that point, I had done everything right and none of it ever worked. I never passed quality control. I gave up and resigned myself to being detached. I basked in the position of being wanted, even if it was all surface.
Then the Big Guy came along and while his initial intention was to purely to hook up. We ended up talking all night after a couple ghosting friends left me stranded at a party at his house. Somewhere between our first disinterested meeting and that next morning, we connected on a cellular level without even trying. In that moment, we became each other’s person.
It wasn’t love at first sight. I don’t even think we were each other’s types. We would have never even have met one another other than a new friend I had met in my LSAT class who happened to grow up with this tall, gangly alt guy with black fingernails and a heart only rivaled by the size of his smile. It took a couple more weeks before we worked out the kinks. Falling head over heels doesn’t feel like what you expect it to. It sort of sneaks up on you and you suddenly realize that this person gives you hope and loves you unconditionally, through the ugly and the hard and the messy and the complicated and they never think of leaving because it’s not an option that even enters their mind or yours. You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning. , kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.
You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning, kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.
Maybe real true love isn’t what they write about in the story books or songs. Maybe it is sometimes. I want my girls to know that love can look like a million different things. What’s important is how it makes you feel when you’re with that person. It isn’t big and bold, though sometimes it is, it’s also quiet and steady and safe. It’s feeling happy just being still and not needing an escape plan or contingency plan. It’s not about being willing to die for someone, it’s being willing to work your ass off to live as long as humanly possible to share every day with your best friend.
The person you love as much as you love yourself. The person who gave you the children who you would take the bullet for because it’s the legacy of your love; the thing the 2 of you created. Real love is the kind that makes you want to risk everything to make the world better than you left it because it’s what he deserves. That’s love.
The real difference between love, like and infatuation is that when you find real love…that person can satisfy all of those things; love, like and lust.
How will you teach your kids to know the difference between love, like and infatuation?
2017/08/17