I pick Bella up from school today.It’s Thursday, you know, the day before Friday.The day by which the kids are exhausted from a week of no naps,its been Bella’s first week of walking through the big doors and down to class all by herself, and we’re still ,apparently, having issues with her feeling “left out” because kindergartners are still trying to get their bearings.
At pick up, I was talking to one of the other half day Moms about setting a play date.Gabs had fallen asleep on the way and was pretty much out of sorts. Bella mosies up to us and instead of her normal reception of a flurry of kisses from me and Gabs running into her arms down the hallway all movie style like, she had to walk to us because , as I mentioned, Gabs was half asleep and I was in mid sentence.No big deal, right?
Wrong! So wrong. We get into the car and immediately I see the sour puss in the back seat. “What’s wrong Bella?”Bella:”Nothing!” You know the nothing that most certainly means something, if not everything. Then she tells me, ” Mommy, no one would play with me at recess!” Me: (I’m more than a little frustrated with the situation because this is like the third time in 2 weeks)”Who did you ask?” Bella:”EVERYBODY!!!” Me:”What did they say?”
Bella:”They said they were already playing with somebody and to ask someone else” At this point, I am detecting some very distinct disdain.She continues on hurt and mad; pretty much more upset and pissed off than I have ever seen her. I feel horrible for her. I mean, nobody wants to see their baby have hurt feelings.
We get home. I am really concerned at this point. She is to the point of tears and she is literally fuming. I am pretty sure that at one point I saw smoke emanating from her tiny little ears. She is pacing the house and crying in frustration. She looked like she felt like I did when her sister had colic and I was walking my ass off just to soothe her. You know that at your wits end look? Breaking down ,can’t take the humanity anymore look? Yeah,that one.
I keep trying to inquire. She keeps shutting me down. I heard something about wanting to punch someone and feeling left out.Oh and she shouted that she hated school.Not what you want to hear from your kindergartner on her 3rd week.By this point, I am frustrated because her reaction seems out of whack with her personality. So, I question some more. What did they say? Did someone touch you? Did someone hurt you? Who said what? But she is just getting more and more angry.My heart is breaking. I feel totally helpless, but know that there is no way I am letting my baby go to school just to feel belittled and left out. So, I email the teacher to see if she could help me out. I just need a person on the inside who is aware of the situation.I can’t stand idly by as my child is being broken down. The teacher emailed me back post haste assuring me that she would address the situation and that it is very common but has not noticed an issue with Bella . But she said she was going to look into it none the less. Thank God. But it wasn’t helping me ease Bella’s hurt..right now. So, I kept trying to talk to her and she was literally mad at me. Her hurt was turning into anger towards me, probably for making her go there in the first place.Finally, an hour later, she tells me that what really upset her was the fact that I did not kiss and hug her immediately when I saw her. She said she felt like I didn’t miss her. Apparently, the kids not playing with her hurt her feelings but the Mommy not covering her in kisses immediately upon seeing her was too much. I was the straw that broke the camels back today.Then, we both ugly cried..really hard for about 3 minutes, and then she took my face in her little hands and said “its OK Mommy. I know you didn’t mean it.” And I cried a little more and told her that she has to tell me these things because I would NEVER want to be the source of her pain. Then the two of us, looking like two matching red spotted leopards hugged and kissed it out, with Gabs , of course.Instantly, she forgave me and I will NEVER not kiss her and hug her the moment I see her for the rest of my life..even if I am talking to the president of the United States, the Pope, or Alexander Skarsgard, Sorry boys, my Bella needs to know her Mommy loves her!
Search results for: “broken leg/page/7/: https:/bit.ly/1g9SPkH”
Mommy; The straw that broke the camels back
Oh my Mommy heart.
Yesterday was Sunday.Sunday’s are bittersweet around here. They are simultaneously filled with big breakfasts, mass, lazy days of Halloween decorating, cuddling, mostly just being together. Unfortunately, for us, it is also always filled with certain goodbyes and impending sadness.
As most of you know, the Big Guy has been working out of state a lot of the time. This leaves me an overworked, stressed, spread much to thin Mommy.The girls are hyper emotional, dealing with some issues of abandonment, missing their Daddy, and testing my boundaries. The Big Guy is working his ass off,lonely and missing his family.It’s a pretty raw deal all the way around but we make the sacrifice, well, because we have to. It’s not ideal but it’s what needs to be done..right now.The good great fantastic news blessing is that he has finally gotten a permanent position with a great company. Which means soon we will all be in the same zip code.Obviously, that is AWESOME! But in the interim, until spring when we can put the house on the market, after the Nutcracker has been performed, after kindergarten graduation, we have to live for our weekends together because its all we have. We spend our days marking time until the next time we can all be together. It’s quite pathetic all the way around. Don’t get me wrong, we have been doing this for about 8 months and we have established a groove. About once about every 3 months, I have a major emotional breakdown. You know, things get too overwhelming and I just can’t go on any longer alone. I make it to the weekend and then he says something like, “I need you to move with me now …so you can work and I can watch the kids at night.” Normally, that would be no big deal but for some reason under these circumstances they instigated a complete breakdown. First, I felt insulted that he didn’t think I was working, then there was the whole he only wants us with him so that I can work, then I was broken by the fact that I am missing him terribly..in my heart, in my arms, in my bed and he is missing…my revenue? Then he told me, that he has been telling me for weeks that he misses us and wants us to be together. I’ve been stuck on autopilot trying to survive this situation. I am trying to do what is best for the girls, for our family…not what is necessarily good for me. Of course being together would be better for me. I could share the parenting, share the load, share my life but in my mind it’s not a feasible option, so why entertain it? But he said that he felt that him missing us was not enough of a catalyst for me, so he figured since I am so concerned with our finances that he would coerce me to relocate early by threatening financial ruin.
Of course, I had a good long cry on a Sunday morning. You know of the cathartic, sobbing, hyperventilating, can’t breathe, very ugly, body shaking variety and all he could do was hold me. But it was nice to have him here to hold me. We both regrouped and moved on. We went shopping, had lunch, blanketed the neighborhood as a family taking our Bella to sell her candy bars for school, visiting with all the neighbors, Then we came home and put up our giant blow up witch in the yard and pretended to be like every other family on the block. But it was still Sunday. There is no denying when its ourSundays, the sadness is palpable and becomes almost smothering around 5:30 pm. We can pretend we are normal until then.
The Big Guy has been trying to stick around until after the girls are asleep, to help me out with bedtime /Missing Daddy meltdowns.God bless him. Of course, last night Bella went right to sleep after only a brief tantrum. But Gabs, oh my Gabs, she was nodding off in my lap as the Big Guy kissed us goodbye. We were both a little emotional because we have had to say more goodbyes in the last 8 months than most married couples do in a lifetime together. Right as he walked out the door, Gabs lifted her head and did a demonstration of my breakdown that morning.Wailing and screaming. ” Me miss my Daddy! Me want my Daddy!” After about 30 minutes,I finally calmed her down. Of course, we had 3 repeat performances last night..each time she stirred from her slumber. I tried to soothe her each time, but when a baby wants Daddy..a Mommy is a poor substitute. I just kept feeling that horrible lump in my throat( that I know so well) and a pain in my heart…my poor breaking Mommy heart!
Vaseline Spray and Go Gets You Out the Door Freaky Fast
I love this video, it shows just how effectively the New Vaseline® Spray & Go Moisturizer absorbs instantly into your skin, so we women can put our clothes right on after moisturizing. I am not sure that I could put my clothes on quite as gracefully or in as cool a way as Emma, the dancer in the video, but it sure is fun to watch.
Of course, Emma is a professional dancer from London who was trained as an acrobat as a child and then switched to modern dance. She should be in Cirque du Soleil with those skills. I’m a mommy whose groove thang doesn’t work like it used to.
Can you believe the production team started by having Emma try 25 speed dressing tricks before they narrowed it down? Did you see her pull on tights while doing a back somersault across the bed? Holy moly, I would have fallen off the bed and broke my newly moisturized derriere. That was the hardest speed trick for Emma to pull off too, so I don’t feel so bad. Emma said the back walkover into a pair of heels was the easiest trick for her. Show off! I could never have looked so graceful doing those speed tricks; I would have definitely fallen and broken something. Emma was able to do every spot in a single take. Take a look at the behind the scenes video.
What’s not to love about the New Vaseline® Spray & Go Moisturizer? It’s freaky fast to apply and more importantly quick to absorb into your skin. It has a convenient 360° spray that dispenses lotion quickly and evenly and you can even hold the can upside down and it still works. It absorbs in 10 seconds or less. What else can you do in 10 seconds? It sure is helpful to get out the door in the morning. My time is precious, and I am sure yours is too. I don’t have time to wait for my lotion to dry in the morning.
Here are some other tips I have for getting out the door fast in the morning:
- Wake up 20 minutes before the children. This is key to getting yourself dressed, ready and one cup of coffee in your system before the kids ever open their eyes. Not being whipped into a frenzy while trying to get little people dressed and out the door is a blessing and will make your life happier.
- Plan your breakfast the night before. Nothing wastes time like staring into the abyss of the pantry or refrigerator. Hey, were you raised in a barn? Sorry, I was channeling my mom for a moment.
- Make a packed lunch schedule and make lunches the night before and refrigerate over nights o they are ready to grab and go in the morning.
- Homework! Empty the kids’ backpacks the night before. Take all papers out of the folders, make sure homework is done and sign everything that needs to be signed the night before not in the morning.
- Give baths and showers to kids at night. Trying to get a half-asleep child to shower without consequence is not a good idea. There will be tears, probably yours.
- Lay you and your children’s outfits out the night before. Preparation is key to a smooth morning, believe me.
- If you follow these steps, you will be out the door in no time with your little ones.
Vaseline® Spray & Go Moisturizer is a quick, continuous 360° spray lotion that moisturizes deeply and absorbs in seconds, so you can put your clothes right on and get on with your day! Available in three formulas – Total Moisture®, Aloe Fresh, and Cocoa Radiant™ – this fast to apply, quick to absorb line of lotions leaves skin instantly soft – not sticky or greasy. Find out more at www.maxthemorning.com!
This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Vaseline. The opinions and text are all mine.
Be a Better Parent Challenge – Day 19 – Let the other parent parent
Yesterday’s Be a Better Parent Challenge – Day 18 – Get happy!
was fantastic and timely. I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the big K that was looming for today but I embraced it. We had a special last couple of days,with play dates with some of our favorite friends and Bella’s favorite meal. I was happy to be having these moments with her, living in the moment and trying to avoid dwelling on the sadness that I knew I would feel when she started kindergarten. So, I put on my big girl panties and I got HAPPY! How did you do?Today’s Be a Better Parent Challenge – Day 19 – Let the other parent parent
I’m positive that this challenge would be much easier for me if my husband was home more so that I’d be used to having another parent in the house, but it’s very hard for me to keep my mouth shut and let him do his parenting job when he is only here on weekends. The sad thing is that he is a very hands on Daddy, truly one of the most awesome Daddies that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. My husband is a testament to the term Father, seriously. Everything that I can do, he can do too; kiss boo boos, snuggle at bedtime, read stories, calm fears, rub legs riddled with growing pains, mend hearts broken by the pains of growing older and realizing the ways of the world. I trust him implicitly with the kids, so it’s not that I’m worried something will happen, but when I’m here, and I hear some of the things he says, or his reaction to some situations,or whatever it is that I’m listening to from the other room, it’s very difficult to keep my mouth shut ( refer again to my control freak nature).If the kids were in imminent danger, or he was wrong I would certainly say something. But they never are and he’s usually not. Just because we parent differently doesn’t mean his way is wrong; its just different. He and I talk a lot about what is acceptable reactions to the girls behavior and what is not. The biggest problem is me relinquishing control, especially when I am in full control the entire week long. But, I will admit, sometimes on the weekend when I am super spent from the previous week of doing it all on my own,I want need the Big Guy to come in and rescue me. I guess the answer to my own request is to let him.
I do believe that there is a fine line, particularly when one of the parents is escalating, for the other parent to step in and remedy situation; take over the lead in the situation. That’s what I believe co-parenting is; two people working as ying and yang to help their children survive until adulthood:) When I’m about to lose my ever loving mind, I really want the Big Guy to step in and give me a breather and reign me back down to earth.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen very often as I’d like because the big Guy is gone. When he is home he tries to take control so that I don’t have to…always be the discipline tyrant. Really,sometimes the best co parenting is the Big Guy saying “Go take a break, I got this! ” We’ve been together so long, that he recognizes the crazy in my eyes almost immediately. He gives me the nod ( which means remove yourself lady you are about to lose your shit and you’ll feel really guilty if that happens) and I try and go.I think stuff like that can save both parents from unnecessary outbursts.I just he was around more to save me more.The Big Guy, my hero.
So today, do your best to let your co-parent (if you have one, that is) parent the kids in his/her own way. And if you have criticisms or issues, wait until after the kids are gone (or asleep) to discuss them.
Tomorrow, Bella wants the Big Guy to take her to school by himself. She draws her strength from her Daddy, when she is filled with trepidation. I will let him do his parenting thing and I will be happy that he can comfort her and be her Daddy, just like only he can be.
For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn
Anyone who has ever read this blog before knows that I don’t write flash fiction. In fact, I write the complete opposite of “flash fiction” I write drawn out nonfiction. I’m a story teller who tells you my stories in their entirety, even a moment can last 350 words.But when I saw the Hemingway piece, “For sale: Baby shoes, never worn” again with new eyes, new experiences, they were no longer 6 words. They were like a brick thrown at my heart and the weight of those words brought me to my knees.
I’ve read these words before but I never really knew what they meant, not truly. I never knew the hole in your heart that could be left by losing someone you never got to meet; never got to hold, kiss and cuddle. Never got to hear them call out to you, “Mommy” or wrap their tiny arms around your neck. But, I think you miss them even more because you are missing the promise of something that never came to fruition. You have to cling for dear life to that one single memory, the loss.
Thankfully, I haven’t lost a lot of people who were close to me. I lost my grandparents that I never really knew and I’ve lost two uncles who I was very close to and that hurt. It hurt bad. I felt those losses and I still miss their presence in my life. I wish my daughters could have ran to them when they came to visit and known the giving hearts and comforting smiles of these men. I’d like to say it taught me to appreciate those who are alive even more. It did, for a little while, and then as some sort of a survival mechanism, I had to put that loss on a shelf, so I could continue on. I think that is how we are made; this is how we survive the pain of loss.
Not until I lost a pregnancy, my third child, did I feel the true weight of loss. It nearly killed me. There is nothing like it. The only thing that I can imagine that would come close would be losing a spouse or a parent. I know that sometime in my life I will lose my parents and that scares me. It terrifies me but not for the reasons you might suspect. Not because I won’t know how to live in the world without them but because I didn’t have enough time to know them; to really know them. The hole left by words unspoken and memories not made is an unfillable one. I know that now.
I don’t know why these words have been haunting me over the past couple days. I think it was triggered by watching my friend go through the painful loss of her dear mother and watching another friend give birth and struggle with complications and a very sick baby after losing her twin pregnancy last year. My heart is breaking for these two women. I have all of these feelings swirling around in my mind, in my heart and I I can feel my own scabs being ripped off. I can imagine how their hearts are aching with these fresh wounds. I wish I could do more than pray for these women but they need their space to process; to contain the hole that feels like it will swallow you up. It’s survival.
The pain of losing someone you have so much love for leaves a giant hole in your soul and with them they take a part of you. You don’t feel whole. You feel fractured and broken and it hurts it ways that you didn’t even know it could. It’s an indescribable, all-consuming pain.
Please pray for these two women, Alexandra Rosas and Diana Stone, that their hearts might know peace and comfort again someday soon.
For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn
Girl Where Do You Think You’re Going
Take my hand, stay Joanne
Heaven’s not ready for you
Every part of my aching heart
Needs you more than the angels doEarlier this month, my Aunt died and suddenly, I was consumed with people and things that I had pushed down into the deepest recesses of my heart. I was stunned and shocked and it brought up all of these feelings of loss for me; from the life-changing loss of my own pregnancy to the close losses of my Uncle Ramon, my Uncle Narciso and then that took me down a rabbit hole of what ifs…what happens when my parents die. How will I survive? You survive by going on, putting one foot in front of the other and smiling when you feel like dying and wearing big sunglasses so no one sees the constant tears in your eyes.
I watched my uncle and his sons willing with everything inside of them to stay upright when all they wanted to do was collapse into that all too familiar, to me, fetal position on the floor. It’s been 5 years but I remember that feeling of utter hopelessness and unrecoverable loss that leaves you discombobulated and broken beyond repair like it was yesterday. All I could do was love them and try to be there to lean on.
Loss and grief are a bizarre thing. They can take any form they want at any time. I always refer to them as emotional time bombs but make no mistake, they can be absolutely nuclear on impact. One minute you are laughing at something funny you are remembering about the person you lost, then maybe you are smiling remembering their smile or the way they held your hand, then the next you are so angry that you want to punch the entire world in the throat and still in another you are overcome with sadness and emptiness realizing you will never hear them speak your name ever again and sometimes, that is too much to stay standing.
It’s bad enough when you are the one it’s happening to but it is so much worse, for me anyway, to helplessly watch as someone I love goes through it. All I want to do is make it better for them but I know from experience that the only way to truly get through it is to feel every single one of those feelings. It’s nature’s way of severing the tether in a slow, gradual way. Our minds can’t handle pure pain all at once. I remember feeling like I would surely break and yet, I survived. I am definitely scarred by each loss, some more than others, but they leave their mark.
If you could I know that you’d stay
We both know things don’t work that way
I promised I wouldn’t say goodbye
So I grin and my voice gets thinGirl, where do you think you’re goin’?
Where do you think you’re goin’?
Goin’, girl?
Girl, where do you think you’re goin’?
Where do you think you’re goin’?
Goin’, girl?I don’t normally find that any two losses are the same, not equal even to ourselves and they all manifest differently. Grieving is something so very personal. There is no right or wrong way to do it. We all just try to survive from one day to the next. The thing is it doesn’t just affect us. It has ripples and it changes everyone it touches.
Recently, I watched a documentary on Netflix, Gaga: Five foot Two and I felt a connection to her song, Joanne. I think by seeing the documentary and learning more about her life and the meaning behind the song, I could relate to her vulnerability in a way I never have before. I saw the woman, Stefani Germanotta, and not the icon Lady Gaga and honestly, I found her so endearing in her vulnerability.
You know we tend to put up fences and build walls around ourselves to protect us from public scrutiny. I don’t just mean celebrities like Lady Gaga but each and every one of us. It’s human nature to preserve our most vulnerable parts. Mine’s always been more of a see-thru chain link that you can see what’s going on but still, I protect myself. That’s one of the reasons that I don’t do a lot of videos. You’ve read about my howling in pain and grief at the loss of my pregnancy but you never actually saw it because there’s a vulnerability even I can’t go to about some things.
Anyways, this documentary has me full of admiration for what Stefani Germanotta does and who she is in spite of however much pain she is suffering. She uses it to fuel her art. She is no one’s victim. She is honest, raw, funny and completely in love with her family and her fans. She’s a fierce and mighty woman and in her movie you see the sacrifices she makes for her art. She is a bootstrapper. This is something we share in common.
I have a theory that everybody in the world chooses to either be a victim and wallow in their circumstances or pull themselves up by their bootstraps and become stronger because of the hard parts. There is no such thing as try, we have to choose one or the other and do it. I refuse to lay down and give up; that’s not me. I don’t even know how to do that. I tried once. It didn’t take.
I’ve been listening to Joanne almost constantly since seeing the documentary and it has become an anthem for strength for me. It’s about letting go, even when you don’t want to. It’s about the sadness and beauty in having had the chance to love someone, maybe even someone you never got the chance to properly meet, and the pain and vulnerability of maneuvering through those most painful moments in your life.
It’s about embracing that vulnerability, relinquishing control and giving yourself over to the acceptance of the pain of the loss. Swimming in the letting go, letting it wash over you like warm waves in the sunshine is the only way to become one with it. It’s the only way to survive it and it is beautiful and ugly and amazing and horrible all at the same time.
Honestly, I know where you’re goin’
And baby, you’re just movin’ on
And I after love you even if I can’t
See you anymore can’t wait to see you soarGirl, where do you think you’re goin’?
Where do you think you’re goin’
Goin’, girl?
Girl, where do you think you’re goin’?
Where do you think you’re goin’
Goin’, girl?Have you seen the Netflix documentary Gaga; Five Foot Two and if not, please do and tell me what you think in the comments.
Disclosure: I am a Netflix StreamTeam member but the above post about my new found admiration for Lady Gaga and my connection with the documentary Gaga: Five Feet Two and the album Joanne are all my own.
Ogunquit Maine the Perfect Place to have Cake by the Ocean
If you are looking for a place to squeeze in one last family vacation, a long weekend for Labor Day or a romantic getaway this summer, I would recommend Ogunquit, Maine. Believe me, you will not regret it. Summering in Ogunquit is taking a break from the chaos of your life. It’s getting back to basics without being eaten by mosquitos in a tent. It’s not forcing yourself to unplug in a world that’s always dialed in but relaxing just enough to be in the moment so that you forget to plug in.
I am a traveler. I have wanderlust in my heart and I can never learn enough about new places and people. We are raising our daughters to have an insatiable wanderlust. I spent my summers in Mexico as a child. I don’t mean we summered in Mexico. We weren’t holed up at some resort. We were on my grandfather’s ranch in the small town that my dad was raised in. Sure they had a lot of the comforts of home but we weren’t allowed to have them. My dad felt like when in Mexico, do as the Mexicans and he was right. He immersed the shit out of us. If we wanted to understand what our grandfather was saying, even though he did speak some broken English, we damned better well be paying attention.
My dad’s idea was that when he came to America, he learned English. When we went to Mexico, we needed to adapt. This was a lesson that shaped the kind of person I would become. That simple no became the foundation for my tolerance and understanding of cultures and people different than me. Who cares if there was a McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken in the next town over, he said no.
When I was little, I didn’t get it. Why wouldn’t he just let us have the damn cheeseburger? Why did we have to try everything? And believe me when I tell you that we did. I’ve eaten rattlesnake, cactus, tongue and most animals from head to toe because that folks is what you eat in a third world country and your parents give you no options but to immerse completely. And there was no complaining.
Well, there was that one time I tried to complain but my dad shoved a piece of rattlesnake at me (without telling me what it was) and simply said, “Come!” As in, stop asking for cheeseburgers and eat the damn food available to you. You can have McDonald’s the other 11 months of the year. He was not the compromising sort. So, I ate it and I spoke Spanish to my grandpa. There were no concessions made and I learned a very valuable lesson; all cultures are important and the only way to truly appreciate and respect them is to immerse. This is what we teach our girls. This is how we travel. We dare to live open to all possibilities because there within lies our destiny.
This is not just for international trips. When we travel within the country, our girls know that people are different in different regions. People talk differently, think differently, believe and eat differently. Differences are good. We’ve taught them to embrace and respect these differences and from these experiences carve out who they want to be; how they want to live. I don’t want them to be limited by their geographical constitution.
This summer we took a road trip to the East Coast. First a weekend in Ogunquit, Maine and next, 7 days in Boston, Massachusetts. It’s not immersion into a drastically different culture but it is a different state of mind and certainly, a different mentality from the limited experience one normally finds in these fly over states that we live in. If you are a long time reader of The TRUTH, you might remember that we’ve visited both Ogunquit and Boston before. Well, we loved it so much we had to do it again and this time we discovered even more wonderful places.
Let me start by saying that our 15-hour long road trip was saved by my Bracketron phone holder and charger. We use a navigation app on our smartphone so to keep our phones from dying it has to be charging the entire time but then where does that leave me and my iPad. God knows I can’t survive a road trip without access to Netflix and Hulu. Luckily, my phone holder can charge not only one but two devices!
Then there is The Anchorage Inn. We love this place. It is clean, the staff is helpful and friendly and not only is it located on the Marginal way with views of the Atlantic, it is located on the main street of Ogunquit and located in walking distance to absolutely everything of relevance. If you are ever headed to Ogunquit, like so many of my friends now are since I can’t seem to shut up about how amazing it is, it is definitely worth trying to get a reservation to stay at The Anchorage. Just make your reservations early because they book peak season pretty fast.
Places to Eat
Angelinas Ristorante Wine Bar and Tuscan Grille
If you like a nice quiet evening with great food, candlelight, delicious food and superb martinis…Angelinas is your spot. I had the chicken franchese with asparagus and linguini in butter sauce. It was some of the best Italian food, I’ve ever eaten and my exotic martini got me knackered. It’s casual fine dining at affordable prices.
We ate here our first night there. We were all exhausted and crabby from the all day road trip but the casual atmosphere at Rose Cove was just what the doctor ordered. It’s a small unassuming place and, I won’t lie, we were lured in by the waiter giving out samples of the fudge from their confectionary shop attached to the restaurant. We sat outside under the stars, listening to the singers from the Front Porch piano bar as their voices wafted across the street, and we finally exhaled at our table with the mini fire pit in the middle. Nothing says beach holiday like a fire pit in the middle of your table, a fresh lobstah roll bigger than your head and an ice cold local beer. We came for the blueberry and the sea salted caramel fudge and we stayed for the lobstah.
Sweet Peas
Our daughters love this place for the menagerie of ever changing flavors that they offer. I love it because the kids who work there have endless patience and always greet you with a smile. My daughters ask to sample no less than 4 flavors every single time we go in there and these youngsters have nothing but great attitudes and sunny dispositions to share. We go there every chance we get. It’s the perfect afternoon snack after a day at the beach. Some of our favorite flavors are Maine Black Bear, Coconut chip with Almond Joy, Coffee Toffee with Heath Bar and Phantomberry.
I’ve got one word for you BREAKFAST! Oh my, this place specializes in breakfast. Firstly, again, beach towns have the friendliest staffs I’ve ever met. Everyone is always smiling and seem genuinely happy to be there. No one seems put out or annoyed when you ask a question about the menu. This time we sampled the lemon and blueberry cream cheese stuffed French toast, the Belgium waffle with strawberries and the Corned beef eggs benedict. I personally, sampled off everyone’s plate and can tell you that it was all scrumptious.
It has become our tradition to stop at this shop on the last night we are in town and load up on all the confectionary goodness and pastries we can walk back to our room at The Anchorage. The Big Guy had a praline and pecan bar, the girls had tiny mugs made of chocolate and filled with chocolate mousse and I had a chocolate cake layered with whipped peanut butter mousse. And oh yes, I did have my cake by the ocean. It was more decadent than should probably be legally allowed for people over the age of 30. My shorts fit a little tighter that day but it was worth every single calorie.
Things to Do in Ogunquit Maine
When we go to Ogunquit we have one mission in mind and that is to beach. If you’ve never been to an East coast beach town, you may have no idea what the hell I am talking about. Remember the immersion I was talking about earlier? Well, being in Ogunquit is simple. You just let go. There is no planning. You just take a deep breath, walk outside and live and it is glorious. It is perfect for our family because we are always over booked. We need Ogunquit to decompress and get back to normal. Ogunquit pulls my family back off of the ledge where we reside on a daily basis. It’s that good.
We truly spend most of our time at Ogunquit beach. It’s a 5-minute walk from The Anchorage and our girls love to play in the ocean; swimming, boogie boarding, body surfing and building sand castles. Thank goodness for the Snapper Rock swimwear, beach pants and most of all the neoprene wetsuit jacket and vest because the water was freezing in June. Thanks to these cute and durable pieces are girls were able to frolic in the surf without their lips turning blue.
Perkin’s Cove is a short 15-minute walk down the Marginal Way in the opposite way of the beach. It is a quaint little harbor full of small sailboats surrounded by restaurants that serve lobster rolls of all varieties and offer stunning views at sunset. It’s also one of our girls favorite places to stroll after dinner bobbing in and out of shop after shop searching for just the right souvenirs and trinkets to commemorate each trip. If you are in Ogunquit, you have to walk to Perkins cove and look around.
The Front Porch is a restaurant located at the busiest corner of Main street that has great food downstairs and a wonderful piano bar upstairs. Children are allowed downstairs but not upstairs. Upstairs is where the magic happens. You can hear the gleeful singing ringing out into the streets as everyone joins in singing along. It is the place to go in Ogunquit for a good time on your beach vacation.
If you are still looking for the perfect place to have your cake by the ocean this Labor Day, my recommendation is Ogunquit, Maine.
What to do When Racism Happens to Your Child at School
What do you do when your child comes home from school and tells you about all the blatant racism she experienced at school that day? Racism is nothing new but I’ve never had it directed so closely at my children. Wait, let me clarify, no one called my daughter a “Beaner”, “Wetback” or “Spic”; none of the common slurs you get when you are a little Mexican kid. No, my daughters, like myself, are very fair skinned and they actually look more Nordic than South American. They have blondish hair and blue eyes. Nothing about them screams, “I am Mexican hear me roar.” But they will tell you, in no uncertain terms, “Yo soy Mexicana, escuchame…..ROAR!!!!”
The thing is when you look Caucasian, people don’t worry about what they say around you. They think that you shouldn’t be offended because when they are insulting your culture and your race, they are not actually insulting “YOU” because to them, you are different (you get a pass) because you look the same as them. Let me tell you what, that’s even worse. Casual racism where you tell me that I shouldn’t be offended because you weren’t referring to “my kind of Mexican” is beyond insulting. People always expect Latinos to be “more Latino” or, in my case, more obviously Latino.
I’ve experienced this kind of attitude my entire life due to my white skin. My mom is Caucasian, so technically I am half European Caucasian (with a twist of Cherokee) but I am also half Mexican. And, as anyone of color will tell you because we know this firsthand, if you are brown or black in any amount, to most Caucasians, you are “other” because you’re not 100% Caucasian so I’ve always just embraced it. I refuse to deny who I am, where I come from or the fact that on my dad’s side, I am first generation Mexican-American. That makes my daughters with their alabaster skin, blue eyes and blonde hair, second generation Mexican-American. We are proud of this, as we should be but then, every once in a while, especially in today’s politically charged, infused with extra hatred and bigotry environment, we are slapped across the face with the feeling of others trying to make us feel small and less than. Yes, even today in 2016.
Not to bring Donald Trump into this but honestly, he has broken the dam of the shame of racism that most polite societies had been adhering to. He has come in like a hurricane and ripped all politically correct walls down and made it not only acceptable but in some cases even applaudable to be prejudiced. Racism, xenophobia, and bigotry are running rampant under the guise of national pride and patriotism. I’m here to tell you that it’s not acceptable and never will be. It’s still just as disgusting as it ever was and now that the Trump trickle-down effect has directly involved my children, we have a problem and I’m ready to fight.
Which brings me to a couple recent situations that happened to my daughters at school recently. I’m pretty tolerant. I know that children sometimes regurgitate things they’ve heard at home without knowing what it really means. I also am painfully aware that hatred is taught not born. My girls know this as well and they readily afford their fellow students the benefit of the doubt but when they hear a prejudiced joke or comment made they also readily volunteer the information that they are Mexican and that those particular comments are offensive to them. In my house, we always think to ourselves, what would we allow someone to say to Grandpa Manny? If it would hurt him, it hurts us.
Last Wednesday, my daughter came home from a field trip, that my husband attended with her, and told me that the other kids in our car were telling her and one another that they were “voting for Donald Trump” and “Hillary Clinton wants to kill babies.” They went on to say that they wanted Trump to win so he could build a wall and “keep the Mexicans out!” Before my husband had the chance to say a word, my 9-year-old informed the children, “You know that I’m a girl and I’m Mexican.” (My 9-year-old doesn’t understand why anyone would vote for a racist misogynist, especially other women.) To which the kids answered, “Well, I knew you were a girl but I didn’t know you were MEXICAN!” My daughter’s answer, “Well, now you do.”
I don’t know about you but I find it very disturbing that parents are at home telling their kids that Hillary Clinton wants to kill babies and I’m personally offended that these children want to keep Mexicans out like we are some kind of criminal, lower life forms. It also disturbs me that my children are surrounded by such blatant racist every day.
On Friday, my daughter jumped in the car at pick-up and told me another disturbing tale of fourth-grade racism.
A group of children was talking and said that they hope Trump wins so he can keep the Mexicans out because they (Meaning Mexicans) are part of ISIS and the part of the reason the Twin Towers were attacked. What? Has the world gone mad?
Take a moment to soak that last statement in. Does it disturb you to your core too? Because the sheer magnitude of the ignorance of that statement frightened me. If these children think Mexicans are terrorists couldn’t that prejudice them against the Latino children at the school? I know there is only a handful of but still. My point is this, the entire discussion was inappropriate and factually incorrect. Mexicans are not Islamic terrorists. All Muslims are not terrorists. And it was Al Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden who were responsible for the twin towers and 9/11, not the Mexicans; not a race or a culture but a group of terrorist extremist. Why are these parents teaching their children to hate people who don’t look, act, and talk exactly like they do?
Apparently, these children have confused Mexicans and Islamic terrorists. I know the skin tones can be a little confusing if you are not exposed to a diverse group of people but either way, these children are regurgitating racism and xenophobia; neither of which I feel are appropriate or should be tolerated in life and certainly not at the school.
I’m not normally one to email the school with every single infraction or indiscretion. I am an active parent volunteer at the school and I support their mission, that’s why I enrolled my daughters in the school, but this kind of behavior cannot stand. I had to say something. There has to be a zero-tolerance policy for this sort of behavior. These situations warrant a discussion with the children and they need to know in no uncertain terms that prejudice and hatred are not okay on any level. We need to teach the children tolerance and acceptance of differences, not persecution and prejudice.
This election has given people a false belief that it is their right to be judgmental and a false sense of justification in racial profiling and it’s become uncomfortable on a very personal and basic level. I don’t want my daughters thinking there is something fundamentally wrong with being Latino nor do I want them to feel ashamed or like they are being judged or put in danger simply for being born with Latino blood in their body.
I realize that my daughters look Caucasian and may not experience blatant racism as frequently as some other children who have more obvious Latino features but it is sometimes just as uncomfortable being the whitest Mexican in the room, especially when racist comments are being thrown around and you know all the people that you love most in the world are being denigrated. I don’t want my children feeling ashamed of who they are because other children are being taught racism and hatred at home.
I don’t know about you but I have a pretty thick skin when it comes to myself but if you insult or injure my children, you will have me to contend with and I won’t let it go because it is my job to protect my children. If that means I have to hurt someone’s feeling by pointing out that their bad behavior will not be tolerated, then so be it.
What would you have done if your child was experiencing racism at school?
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?
Dear America
This is an open letter to my dear America. I hope someone is reading and sharing and spreading humanity and kindness faster than the cancer of racism that is devouring the insides of our country. It is destroying us.
I just dropped the girls off at their first day of school and as I pulled away, I started crying. I was completely overwhelmed by a horrible feeling I know all too well. There was a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach and it wasn’t the typical first day of school mommy blues that we all get but it was definitely not new.
It’s the same feeling that I’ve felt every day that I’ve sent my husband off to work since 9/11. It’s the same terrible, sick feeling that I’ve felt every morning at drop off since Sandy Hook. It’s the same fear I have every single time I’ve gotten on a plane knowing there’s a risk. Not because of heights or claustrophobia but because I know that we live in a world where extremists armed with hatred who think they are doing what’s best for them, are fearless and willing to die for their hate like the racists who descended upon Charlottesville, Virginia this past weekend armed with tiki torches and hearts full of hate.
I spent the past weekend camping in Michigan; one last getaway before the craziness of school scoops us all up and we can’t see past the minutia. We’re about to be swallowed up whole so I wanted a few days of unplugged togetherness, with the people who really matter to me in this world, my children.
Unfortunately, I still needed to be tethered to the real world because of work. I didn’t engage because I wanted to focus on what was right in front of me; what truly matters. I am trying to be present but I see it all happening, this train wreck at 100 miles an hour. Our country is careening out of control and our leader doesn’t know how and doesn’t seem willing to get us back on track.
Dear America,
I kept quiet and let my thoughts settle into coherent actions. But I’m tired of the burden of being a person who always does something. I’m exhausted of telling friends what they already know. I am sick to death of listening while the Internet feigns outrage and shock. I can’t keep giving people who believe themselves to be good, decent Americans permission to keep engaging in the same insanity.
See something. Do nothing. See it on the Internet. Feign outrage. Share a petition on social. Talk to your like-minded friends about the horror and pat yourselves on the back for recognizing that this is, in fact, horrible. 2 days later, forget about it. Forgive the aggressor. Accept the unacceptable as status quo. Move on to the next “cause”. Do nothing.
The time for placing blame has passed, it is now time to take accountability. Complacency is not an option. It never should have been, where human beings were involved. Action is the only acceptable reaction.
We shouldn’t be feigning outrage and shock. We should be genuinely outraged, shocked and pissed off. We should be moved to our feet by our hearts and our minds. We can no longer sit down while the aggressors mow through those of us who dare to stand up for the collective us. America, the home of the brave.
It’s scary standing up. Those who love you most will tell you to sit down because they are afraid of the danger it brings to do the right thing. Standing up begs to be knocked down but we must get back up. We must endure for if we do not take a stand, we will all be mowed down and our land of the free will not be so free.
Dear America,
I am not blaming you for any choice or vote you cast up until this moment. You know what you did. Your choice is only for you to learn to live with. No one dared believe just how much hatred could breed when given the right growing conditions. But we knew. It has spread across this country like a plague and it is killing all of us.
What I am begging you to do today is to forget about who you voted for or party lines and think about your family, your future and the country that you love so much. The time to dig in has passed. We need to work together as Americans to fix what is broken.
I don’t want to weep when I drop my children off at school because I know that we live in a country currently fueled by hatred. I know there are so many good people in this country. Decent human beings who love their families, their neighbors and their country. The bad apples are in the minority. But they are eating at this country like cancer. Their movement is spreading because it is not being treated. Racism is a cancer that needs to be eradicated.
Dear America,
Stand up. Say something. Do something. Be something. Racism, bigotry, and hatred cannot be tolerated. We need a zero tolerance and we can’t forget. Embrace your outrage. Flame it’s embers and let it fuel you to do the right thing; to stand up to those who would tell us that any human is less than another. Forget what is politically correct and do what is right.
What are you doing? How are you stopping the hate? How are you putting love and kindness into the world? How are you standing up for what is right in the face of what is terrifying?
What action are you taking for your dear America?
