The TRUTH About Motherhood

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The Shit My Kids Say!
The shit my kids say no longer shocks me, though it probably should.Since becoming a mother, I have said and heard a lot of crazy stuff come out of little mouths. Things that I never thought I’d hear before, never mind say..out loud! Seriously, I do a lot of double takes in my house because I can seldom believe the shit that comes out of my kids’ mouths. It is incredible and the older they get the more preposterously outrageous the things out of their mouths and my responses become.
My girls say some of craziest things, here are a few gems I’ve heard in their lifetime.
Out shopping for a smaller size shorts for myself during shark week, never a good idea by the way, my daughters commentary had me doubling over in laughter, nearly popping the buttons off the new shorts. As I was trying on pairs 2 sizes smaller than last summers, I was leery whether or not they were going to fit. They fit but dependent on the style some were snugger than others. So as I stand there flustered by my water retention, I hear Bella say, from the corner of the dressing room, “Good luck with that!”
Me: “Good luck with what?”
Bella: “Good luck getting those suckers to button!”
It’s like she’s like my conscience walking around taunting me. I laughed so hard, there was no way I was getting those suckers buttoned.
Once during a 5 minute nap warning, the girls were being particularly thorough with their ignoring of my voice. I repeat for the 5th time,
“5 minutes til we go in for naps!”
My then 5-year-old looks directly at me and very seriously says, ” Mom, just because I am talking to Gabs and not looking at you, I CAN still hear you….I have a super power!”
Me: “Oh , yeah. What would that be? (besides the obvious power to completely ignore the sound of my voice)”
Bella: “I’m a SUPER LISTENER! I hear everything!” OK, that’s news to me because she may hear me but she certainly does not always listen.
Once at a crowded family dinner, in which we were discussing the topic of my husband and I going on a much needed date night, my then 5-year-old interjected ( in her loudest possible voice),
” Mommy, you should go out with Daddy. Have fun! Stay out as late as you want. But NOT TOO much fun or you’ll come back with another baby!”
Thanks a lot for the warning. I’m sure your Grandparents loved the information, as well.
If you think the things that come out of their mouths are crazy, you should hear the things that have been coming out of my mouth in the past few years.
“Stop chewing on the dog!”
“PLEASE Stop eating the dog food!”
“Who’s hair is this is the wastebasket?”
“Stand still so I can get this poop out of your hair!”
“Stop screaming or the police will come and take you away.”
“Get back in bed and I will spray Lemur spray under your bed!” ( Lemur Spray Kills Imaginary Lemur’s Dead!)
“Don’t inhale that pearl!”
“Stop putting your butt in your sister’s face!”
What’s the craziest thing you have heard yourself say since having kids? Better yet, what is the craziest thing you’ve heard come out of your kid’s mouth?

2013/08/21
What to Do When the Unthinkable Happens to Your Child
You know it’s bad enough that we live in a world where I have to feel trepidatious every time I drop my kids off at school or hear a siren. It’s bad enough that I have to live in world where people bully other people for sport and children are regularly kidnapped, raped and murdered. All these things, I think about every day. I think of childhood diseases and cancers and getting hit by a car or stolen an these things scare the hell out of me.
Yesterday morning was one of the worst of my life thus far. We all hate to see our children sick. It makes us feel helpless. For me, it is the worst feeling in the world. Worse than anything else I have ever experienced. I’d do anything for them to never feel pain. Give it all to me. Let me take the pain and sickness and let them only feel well and happy. My mind goes to dark places when my children are sick.
When my nephew was 3, he was diagnosed with leukemia and since then, I have been acutely aware of the mortality of children. It is the one thing that scares me above all else; loving someone else so much that you can’t imagine surviving without them and knowing that at any time, anywhere, it can all be taken away. It scares me more than anything. Yesterday, I found myself in the emergency room with my oldest daughter and I was scared to death and helpless and all I could do was pray.
My 8-year-old woke up yesterday morning and immediately said she had a sore throat and didn’t feel too well. The night before she complained of a slight headache and scratchy throat, so I suggested that we take her temperature and sure enough she had a slight fever, 99.9. School says it’s not a fever until it’s over 100. Mommy says it’s a fever over 98.6. The three of us walk down the stairs through the foyer and make our way to the kitchen. Both girls stand by the counter while I grab some ibuprofen, only this is when things when terribly wrong.
With my back is to her, I stood about 5-feet away grabbing the ibuprofen, Bella screams out terrified, “Mommy, I can’t see!”
“What?” my mind is racing. I run over to her and immediately start putting my hands in front of her face to see if she can see anything.
“Can you see this?”
Staring blanky at nothing and her voice starting to crack, “No, Mommy, I can’t see anything!”
I am swept up in fear because the first thing that comes to my mind is the photophobia caused by meningitis. The very thing I lost a student to in the matter of a weekend. Oh shit! What do I do?
As she was finishing her sentence, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed into my arms. Luckily, I was standing directly in front of her. I was hysterically shouting her name and shaking her. I was terrified. For a few seconds, that felt like an eternity, she was completely unresponsive and my mind went to the darkest place of all; was she dead? Oh my God, she’s dead.
Then she opened her eyes but she was still limp like a rag doll. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. My chest hurt. My heart literally felt like it had exploded. I drug her to the nearest chair (my 8-year-old is 75 pounds and 4 foot 10 she is almost as big as I am). I couldn’t think straight. All I knew was that I had to get her to the hospital now and I didn’t know where the closest hospital even was. As I dialed my husband, 2 hours away, just arriving at work, she said, “Mommy, I’m going to be sick!”
She is shaky and still limp-like. I walk her to the bathroom and hold her so she doesn’t collapse face first into the toilet tank. She is wobbling. I am shaking. I am trying to stay cool because my 6-year-old is watching the whole thing go down. Not crying, not scared just looking to me.
“Gabi, please get your sister some water.”
She did, no complaining or back-and-forth. She kicked into fight mode and she was calm and rational and I have never seen this side of her because usually she is the first one to fall apart. I was amazed. I needed her to stay calm. I couldn’t handle one more thing going wrong. I was on the mommy edge.
I finally reached my husband, I choked out the words,“Bella passed out. I have to take her to the hospital. Where’s the hospital?” Fighting back tears. He tells me to call his mother and he is on his way. I can’t reach her. I frantically call my brother who is 5 minutes away. He tries to calm me down but I am in the other room from the girls and I can barely breathe, never mind talk. He’s coming right over to take us to the hospital. I am hysterical in my mind but trying to keep my cool in front of the girls but inside, I am falling apart all over the place and collapsing in the fetal position in my own pool of snot and tears. I am praying. Constantly.
“Gabi, go get dressed and come back. “ She does. “Stay with your sister while I grab my clothes. “
I ran faster than I knew I could and grabbed whatever was nearest and then I grabbed her clothes and ran back downstairs where I found her pale and meek, sipping water as her baby sister, held her hand and watched her every move. I dress in the living room and then dress her. My mind is still in that very dark place. I can’t unsee her motionless in my arms, unresponsive and I can’t stop feeling like my world just ended. I’m having a panic attack but no time for that now.
I am crying right now thinking about it. No mother should ever have to see that, ever.
My brother pulls up and we race off to the hospital. It’s a good thing that he came because I couldn’t drive. I was in no shape to drive. My mind settled in that calm before the storm place and I was going through the motions of doing everything I could for my child, I wouldn’t allow the fear to rear its head. I had to gag and bound my fear and throw it back in a closet until I knew what was going on. I had to keep my mind clear for what was coming. I asked a million questions and was very specific about recounting the events of the morning and the previous night. I was her unrelenting advocate. I asked for prayers from my friends because sometimes prayers and faith are all that can soothe your soul. I even learned about 555 Angel Number that changed my life for the better.
All the tests came out fine; the blood work, the glucose, the EKG and the 2 hours of heart monitoring. Blood pressure was fine. The only thing wrong was that she was running a fever, which had now escalated to 100. 4 and her throat was red. They gave her antibiotics and sent us home. They gave me no answer for WHY my perfectly healthy child passed out. They told me what wasn’t wrong but said sometimes these things just happen when you are sick. This didn’t sit well with me. This is my baby; my world.
I immediately, contacted our pediatrician to inform her of the situation and she had all the labs sent to her and we scheduled a follow up. I called my brother-in-law who is a doctor and one of my closest friends who is an ER doctor. I gave them the run down, the tests and results and asked for their professional opinions because these are two people who love my child and are qualified. Consensus is that there was a drop in blood pressure from the fever and not eating yet, which caused temporary blindness and then her to pass out. Both said to push fluids because children dehydrate when sick. I felt a little more at ease and then our pediatrician called and confirmed the diagnosis and prescribed rest, plenty of fluids and to come in on Monday.
This morning, my mind is still in that dark place. I can’t stop seeing her limp in my arms. She woke up full of energy but I kept her home today because she still had a slight fever and more to the truth, the thought of sending her out the door after what happened yesterday morning made me sick to my stomach. I just want to hug her and never let her go. I feel crazy and scared and facing my children’s mortality, the one fear that I thought I had bound, gagged and locked away in some space I’d forgotten about years ago.
Thank you all for the prayers and positive thoughts. It meant a lot to me yesterday when I was sitting there in the ER and my mind was going to the really dark and awful place. You were my flotation device when I was drowning in fear. Now, I am off to have a good cry.
How do you deal with these sort of situations without freaking out and how do you get past that fear that lingers in the pit of your stomach afterwards?

2013/10/04
Why No Woman Will Ever Be Good Enough
I read a post written recently by Petra Collins titled Why Instagram Censored My Body. You need to read it. Petra’s instagram account was for the crime of posting a photo of herself from the waist down in a pair of bikini bottoms. She had not had a bikini wax. There was no Borat like tactics with rogue pubic hairs escaping at alarming rates but there was a definite shadow at her bikini line. I was not offended. Hair grows naturally; it’s supposed to be there. Grown women are not supposed to have pubic areas that mimic small children. Even though I’d never have the balls to grow in my pubic hair never mind snap a photo and post it to Instagram, I respect Collins for doing so.
We live in a world where women are expected to look, act, be and do things a very specific way. The manual for how to be a woman was obviously not written by a woman. It is very meticulous in the wish list for the perfect woman. Perhaps a teen boy wrote it at the beginning of time. It’s nearly ridiculous enough that I could believe it.
We all live by these imaginary, unwritten rules, whether we intend to or want to or not. We may wish we did not or pretend that we don’t care but every single woman who has ever lived has known that these rules for how to be the perfect woman exist. We either chose to embrace it, hate it, fight it or pretend to adhere while hiding who we really are and live with the shame of not being good enough. That is where most of us live, in the shame and unhappiness of not being good enough to meet these crazy unreachable expectations. If we are beautiful enough, we don’t feel smart enough. If we are smart enough, we don’t feel attractive enough. If we are thin enough, we don’t feel interesting enough. If we are interesting enough, we don’t feel exciting enough. If we are exciting enough, we don’t feel responsible enough. We never feel completely satisfied with who we are in the world. Do men?
Too much sex; we’re sluts. No sex: we’re frigid. The assumption is that men want to date sluts but marry virgins but no one wants to date a virgin. It’s a woman’s personal choice why can’t we all just have a preference without being labeled? An average sized body is considered too fat. Fat is considered disgusting. Malnourished and eating disordered is considered beautiful, no one cares the toll it takes on that woman to get there. Small breasts are not big enough. Big is never big enough. Damn your back and the fact that you look like a cartoon character. If you work, you should be home. If you stay home, you should be barefoot and pregnant. If you don’t work, you are useless. If you don’t want kids, there is something wrong with you. If you can’t handle your kids, something is wrong with you. If you’re succeeding at your career, you must be shirking your responsibilities as a woman elsewhere; unhappy husband, neglected children or bad hair. The expectation is that the house is supposed to be clean at all times and a home cooked meal is supposed to be on the table no matter what else is going on.
You are supposed to be beautiful, thin, patient and love motherhood. You’re never supposed to rest or complain. You’re always supposed to be happy. If you have an opinion, you are overbearing. If you don’t, you’re an dumb. If you’re smart, you’ve got a good personality but no dates. If you speak up for yourself, you are bossy. If you take a stand, you are a bitch. The world is a masochistic, ironic murderer of the woman’s self. The dichotomy of who women are and who they are expected to be is enough to make the sanest of our heads spin but then if we complain, we must be bipolar, PMSing or just bitter. How sad is it that we live in a world where women commonly use fat as a protection against their sexuality or the sexual advances from others? How fucked up is it that the worst thing a woman believes she can be is ugly or unattractive in any way to men? How sad is it that we live in a world where women still confuse sex as love?
We’ve been forced to stoamch women being treated as less than for so long that we accept it as the state of affairs. The unspeakable is status quo. We have been beaten down for so long that we no longer fight. We are too weak from the fury of fighting just to be treated as equal human beings.
I’m here to tell you that you are….
More beautiful than you can see. Special in your own way. Smarter than you will ever believe. Stronger than you think. Talented in ways you never expected. Perfect just the way you are. Better than enough. You set the rules. This is your life. You deserve to be happy. Fuck other people’s expectations. The only one you answer to is yourself. Choose to be happy. Shave. Pluck and wax if you want. If you don’t, let your bush flag fly but never let someone else dictate your happiness. To truly be perfect, we need to be free to be ourselves all the time without consequence of backlash for being scrutinized for every choice we make.
What is the one thing that You love about YOU?
2013/10/22
Throat Punch Thursday~ Zombie like Attack on the MacArthur Causeway Edition
Upon further viewing, maybe this Kangaroo is a Zombie about to eat a face off
Zombie Apocalypse is a real thing? What the hell is the world coming to when unsuspecting (sleeping no less) homeless people, Ronald Poppo, are getting stripped, beaten and having their faces ripped off by out of their mind junkies, Rudy Eugene, who present like something from the Walking Dead? Now, that is one hell of a gruesome way to be woken up. I am never complaining about my 4 year old jumping on me and strangling me with hugs at 5 am, EVER again. I’ll take rambunctious babies out of drug induced zombie ANY day of the week.
A drug induced Zombie & his Victim in better days
I’m sure many of you are aware of this story, as it has been hot on the internet since it happened on Saturday. If not, here is the gist of it. A man, Rudy Eugene, supposedly high on a new form of the drug LSD, bath salts, attacked a homeless man, Ronald Poppo, who was asleep on the MacArthur Causeway in Miami, Florida. Mr. Eugene, literally, ripped the flesh off the homeless man’s face, Ronald Poppo, with his teeth not unlike a zombie might do. Yes, you heard me right. Even more unbelievable is that the entire incident took place on the MacArthur Causeway, a busy stretch of road near the beach. Drivers and bikers alike drove past for almost 20 minutes, no one stopped to help the man being attacked but several called 911.Honestly, I am not sure that I would have stopped if I saw, what surely looked like a zombie attack, taking place. I would have been afraid that the attacker might eat my face off too. Call me an asshole but I don’t think that would be a particularly enjoyable way to expire.
Cops arrived on the gruesome scene and tried to get Mr. Eugene to dismount Mr. Poppo and stop cannibalizing his face. Mr. Eugene looked up at them and growled. The cops had to separate Mr. Eugene from Mr. Poppo’s face by shooting him. Even after being shot, just like a zombie, Rudy Eugene kept on eating the man’s face until he was shot to death. By the time it was all said and done, 80% of Mr. Poppo’s face had been removed, including his eyes, nose and mouth.All that remained of Mr. Poppo’s face is his beard. I will not provide the photos of Mr.Poppo’s zombie attacked face because they are unbelievably horrifying.
Throat Punch goes to the drug bath salts that is creating an epidemic of junkies who are behaving like zombies in the worst kind of way. Throat Punch to the asshole drug dealers who continue to sell this drug when this is not the first time something like this has happened. Throat Punch to Rudy Eugene for acting like a zombie and ripping the face off of an unsuspecting homeless man. There is a lot of crazy shit going on in the world, bad things. Can we just say no to a drug induced zombie apocalypse?
Do you think this is a bad drug reaction or could this be the nearest thing we get to a zombie apocalypse?
Is the Zombie Apocalypse Upon Us?
2012/05/31
When Internet Trolls Attack
Internet Trolls

Subhuman creatures who post inflammatory, extraneous, or off-topic messages in an online community (more…)
2012/01/16
Nutrisystem Update ~ Week 21
Well, I was very excited last week with Nutrisystem and my second consecutive 2 pound weight loss. I was all cocky on my high horse, doing my happy girl dance. Well, this week, the week that must not be discussed because the water retention runs so high that it’s physically impossible to wrangle my wedding ring off my finger before bedtime,I have gained a pound. I can say that I am eating what I am supposed to, drinking my water and exercising. I am assuming either I have hit a plateau or I am experiencing some insulting water retention.Why insulting you ask?Because it is certainly hurting my feelings. This brings my grand total to 21 pounds in 21 weeks.WooHOO, go me!
If you are interested in more information about this great plan please feel free to contact Nutrisytem or call 888-853-4689. What do you have to lose? Aside from a few pounds, that is?
DISCLOSURE: Nutrisystem is providing their program to me free of charge in exchange for my participation in the Nutrisystem Nation Blogging Program and weekly updates. I am not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed in this post are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255
2011/04/04
Back-to-School ~The First Cut is the Deepest
This morning my oldest daughter started First Grade.*Swoon* & *Sigh* My stomach was nervous all last night for her. I’m no stranger to this phenomenon.It’s been happening to me since MY own first day of kindergarten. I didn’t think I’d be this nervous before my babies started school. I guess it’s better me than them. Ella woke up this morning excited and ready to hit the ground running. I’m so proud of her. This is her third school in three years.
The First Day Of First Grade
This morning was slightly reminiscent of last year’s first day. But this year my little girl was more excited and less nervous. I watched her jump out of bed and her eyes were smiling. She woke up her sister and headed to the kitchen for the annual first day of school breakfast; this years was pancakes, bacon, fruit and milk. Gotta feed that little brain. I watched her flit around like a little caterpillar turning into a butterfly before my very eyes. It really is quite hard to actually see the letting go happen.
She was dressed and ready to hit the road in record time this morning. I was glad. I was afraid she was going to be overcome with trepidation being in a new school, in a new city with new kids and no one she knows. But we were sure to take her to the school a couple times over the summer and she met her teacher last week. She knew where her desk, hook and mailbox would be before she ever got to school this morning. I explained the lunch line and pick up. She knew she was going to be the first Star of the Week VIP, we spent the weekend working on her VIP poster board for class. She seemed fine. I was the nervous one.

The First Cut is the Deepest
Then we drove to school, after taking my usual 100 photos or so of her getting ready for her first day of school. I reminded her that I put lunch money in her pocket, in case there was a mix up with her lunch account. I reminded her that she was having grapes in her lunch today and that she needed to take little bites and not talk while eating ( *Laugh if you will at my helicoptering but this is the same child who I was almost robbed of by a raisin). I reminded her to raise her hand when they took a head count for lunch (this is her first year of all day school). Then we rode in silence.
As we walked into the school, I had to pass the Kindergarten Mom’s. They were all melting into their pools of snot and tears in the hallway. Oh how I remember that moment, it was just last year. It will be me again next year. It hurt my heart a bit. I knew in moments, my own hurt was coming down like a hammer. We walked her into her classroom. As I handed her the backpack and pointed her in the direction of her hook, I could see the trepidation rearing its head again. I know that look. It’s a mix of glazed over and about to cry. But she never does. My girl is a suck it up kind of girl. She is the bravest kid I know (until it comes to shots but that’s an entirely different post). She asked me to walk her to her desk, of course, I obliged. The Big Guy was already busy setting all of her supply list items on her desk and unveiling that Star of the Week poster that tells her story. Abbi was running amuck checking out all the other kids to make sure it was safe to leave her big sister. She doesn’t leave her sister with just anyone.
I was in my head. She was in hers. Her eyes were glassy. My eyes were glassy. She knew I would ONLY leave her in capable hands. She sucked it up and gave me her nervous smile. I gave her a thousand and one kisses and told her to have a great day. I told her that I was so excited for her and proud of her. The Big Guy gave her a goodbye kiss and exited left. Her little sister hugged her like she was going off to war and kissed her cheek harder than I thought possible. I watched before giving her one last kiss and hug and fleeing before I could begin to cry.I told her I loved her. She told me that she did too.The commotion was growing. I swallowed the lump in my throat and told her goodbye.She smiled her nervous, toothless smile. It took all my will, I walked away. As I exited the room, I looked back and saw that same first day familiar nervous look. It broke my heart. It always breaks my heart. Leaving her, has always and will probably always break my heart into a million tiny pieces. The letting go is the hardest part of growing up.
It’s time to focus on the fact that my youngest starts preschool in 3 weeks. Oh what a blubbering mess I will be on that day. For now, I will fixate on those damn grapes and count the minutes til pick up time. Once she tells me that she had a wonderful day and I know that she survived the grapes at lunch. I will be exponentially happier. But right now, this very moment, my heart still hurts from….
Leaving my First Born in First Grade
2011/08/15
Beatdown Under the Golden Arches~Would you like a side of Beatdown with that Big Mac?
I came across this video, that took place in a McDonald’s in Baltimore, on twitter the other day. What I felt when seeing this can only be described as disgust.How is this allowed to take place in decent society? In a McDonald’s in a major metropolitan area. Honestly, in my brief stint in the food service industry as a teenager, fast food was a breeding ground for acne and inappropriate sex under the guise of making a few dollars. I watched this video and all I kept thinking was..why are none of these men jumping in to stop these two girls from attacking this one girl. I call it an attack because what else do you call it when two girls are beating up on one person. It’s obviously not a fair fight.This attack transcends any color, race, religion or lifestyle that may be involved. This attack is so shocking due to its violent nature, lack of human compassion and infusion of hate. I’m not saying this girl didn’t start the altercation ( *as I have no context as to what was going on before this video was shot.). Hell, maybe she did but not by TWO people at the same time.( reference her talking back, safer the initial assault.Wouldn’t common sense dictate that you stay quiet and then call the cops? Just me? ) It’s pretty evident that no one in the building, perhaps with the exception of the Granny who tried to intervene, was using any common sense.Really, I’m convinced entirely that the geriatric super hero was using her good sense either…her heart and compassion yes. Good sense, probably not. I’m pretty sure she was a hair away from being the next victim. Those animals doing the beating were completely out of control and very cocky about the whole thing. I have no idea what could have prompted such a reaction and such hatred from these girls toward the victim.
Why the continuous beating? I don’t know. Why the moronic men filming and standing behind the counter didn’t pull the women apart? I don’t know. Why was the man filming commentating like Chris Tucker in Friday? Because, obviously, he is a fucking idiot. This video has convinced me that my girls will not be working in the fast food service industry. Hell, they will never even be allowed to walk through Baltimore without first being outfitted with a taser. And after I responded to the initial link tweeted , I received a tweet back from @McDonalds Corp offering this sorry press release:

Our Concern Regarding the Baltimore Incident
April 23, 2011
There’s no room for violence under the Golden Arches. We strongly condemn the videotaped assault in one of our Baltimore franchised restaurants. Working with the authorities, we now have more facts, and we want to share our actions with you.
First and foremost, our thoughts are with the victim during this time.
Our franchisee is investigating the behavior and response of his employees. Action has been taken, and the crew member who made the video is no longer employed by his organization. Appropriate action regarding other employees will take place as warranted.
We want to reassure our customers that your neighborhood McDonald’s is a safe, welcoming place for everyone. We share our customers’ concern. We are doing everything possible to make sure the right thing is done.

I am pretty sure that I will no longer be eating under the golden arches until there is a press release stating that the assailants were fired and those who stood by and watched, were suspended pending an investigation. The scary thought is that McDonald’s just had a push to hire 50,000 more employees. I wonder, is this the caliber of employees that are lurking behind the counters when you order your Big Mac? If so, I’d say you better proceed with caution. Who knows who you might set off with a “Specialty” order and, obvious from this video, no ones coming to your rescue if one ( or a group) of the employees goes off the rails and attacks you. But they do believe in teamwork, you saw how they were quick to help the girl escape once the sirens finally drew closer. I’m pretty sure the girl on the floor in full on shock, due to the fact that she had most of the hair ripped from her scalp, was ,indeed, NOT LOVING IT!
What action do you think McDonald’s should take in regards to their employees involved in this situation?
* UPDATE: Just did some more investigating and found this information from an article in the Baltimore Sun
A transgender woman beaten at a Baltimore County McDonald’s spoke out on Saturday, saying that the attack was “definitely a hate crime” and that she’s been afraid to go out in public ever since.
“They said, ‘That’s a dude, that’s a dude and she’s in the female bathroom,’ ” said Chrissy Lee Polis, 22, who said she stopped at the Rosedale restaurant to use the restroom. “They spit in my face.”
The video shows two females — one of them a 14-year-old girl — repeatedly kicking and punching Polis in the head as an employee and a patron try to intervene. Others can be heard laughing, and men are seen standing idly by.
Toward the end of the video, one of the suspects lands a punishing blow to the victim’s head, and Polis appears to have a seizure. A man’s voice tells the women to run because police are coming.
“I knew they were taping me; I told the guy to stop,” said Polis, a resident of Baltimore. “They didn’t help me. They didn’t do nothing for me.”
County police confirmed that the attack occurred April 18 in the 6300 block of Kenwood Ave. Police said the 14-year-old girl has been charged as a juvenile, while charges were pending against an 18-year-old woman. Reached Saturday, police officials said the investigation was continuing.

2011/04/25
Throat Punch Thursday~Bei Bei Shuai Rat Poison Feticide edition
Throat Punch Thursday~Bei Bei Shuai Rat Poison Feticide edition
This week, unfortunately, I did not have to turn to CNN for a Throat Punch Thursday’s recipient, Bei Bei Shuai. No, all I had to do was turn on my local news. I generally hate when that happens. It can never be a good sign when someone that close to home does something so equally stupid and heinous. Without further ado, I give you Bei Bei Shuai. Have you heard of Bei Bei? I’m sure that many of you have already heard of her. He story takes place back in March, how she has escaped receiving a Throat Punch this far is beyond me.
INDIANAPOLIS — An Indianapolis woman who tried to commit suicide by eating rat poison near the end of her pregnancy was charged with murder in the death of her baby.

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AP Photo

Bei Bei Shuai, 34, was arrested Monday and appeared in court Wednesday on charges of knowingly killing a viable fetus and attempted feticide, prosecutors said. The court entered an automatic plea of not guilty for Shuai, who is in custody. She was dumped by her piece of work boyfriend and went off the deep end. I don’t think she was trying to kill the baby as much as kil herself and the baby was collateral damage. Either way, pretty messed up situation.
Shuai consumed rat poison while 33 weeks pregnant, prosecutors said. On December 23, she was taken to a hospital where she admitted to taking rat poison in an attempt to kill herself after her boyfriend left her, according to a police statement.Apparently, her piece of shit boyfriend broke the news to her at 33 weeks that he couldn’t marry her because he was already married. I do understand her disappointment, dismay and even her full on freak out but ingesting rat poisoning is crazy. Sure it’s depressing to see that your entire future was based on a lie and it’s never going to come to fruition.Having a mental breakdown, even contemplating homicide all make more sense to me than going to Home Depot and buying a bag of rat poisoning and then proceeding to eat it.
Bei Bei Shuai Rat Poison Feticide edition
Shuai’s baby girl, Angel Shuai, was born alive on December 31. On January 3, the baby died after being taken off life support. An autopsy determined that the cause of death was her mother’s ingestion of the poison, police said. You see why she deserves a Throat Punch?
Shuai, is the co-owner of a small Indianapolis restaurant, is from China and has no family members in the United States, according to her lawyer, Linda Pence. Pence called the prosecution “mean-spirited” and “horrible” and wants to have the charges dismissed. Oh, they are mean because they are calling her a killer? Well, actually, isn’t that what she is?
“This young woman is truly one of the kindest, most gentle people I’ve ever met,” said Pence. Pence said Shuai’s boyfriend had promised to marry her and help raise the child, and then dumped her, leaving her crying on her knees in a parking lot. Shuai was near a hardware store, so she bought the poison to kill herself. Agreed her boyfriend is a piece of work but she’s the one who made the choice to eat rat poison.Even if she didn’t intentionally kill the baby, she tried to kill herself and didn’t care what came of the baby. Either way, at the very least, she was careless and reckless.
Pence said Shuai had been happy about the baby, and had bought baby clothes. The baby died in her arms after she had rocked it “for hours and hours,” Pence said.
Pence said there is a common law immunity for pregnant women who attempt to harm themselves — or else prosecutors could charge any woman who drank or took drugs. Pence said the law against killing fetuses is meant to target third parties — as in the case of a robber who shoots a pregnant woman. I’m not sure that I want the government to go down this slippery slope but I do know that she needs to be held accountable.
So, this week the Throat Punch goes to the crazy lady having the mental breakdown over a man whose first thought was “hmm, I think I’ll go eat some rat poison”. You, my dear, need a Throat Punch to dislodge your head out of your ass. I am sorry your boyfriend turned out to be a douche but killing yourself and your baby earns you a punch, Bei Bei Shuai.
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2011/06/23
Self-Worth~I’m No beauty Queen,I’m Just Beautiful Me
Today, I’m linking up my Self-Worth post @ Ciaomom.com. I stumbled across her link up as, one by one, all of my Twitter friends were sharing it. Of course, I wanted to know what all the excitement was about and then I read her post and I knew. In a world full of self-doubt and deprecation, she is spreading the idea of self-love and self-worth. Can you imagine?
Self-Worth
I am the Mommy of two daughters and my biggest fear in the WORLD is that they will follow in my footsteps down a path of self-doubt and poor body image. In my teens, like most girls, I was very unsure of my place in the world. I was tall before any of the boys in my middle school. Then puberty hit and all the body changes that accompany. In a matter of a summer, I went from the cute, smart girl with the big almond eyes to being an amazon by middle school standards, breakouts, breast buds, braces, body hair, hips and being extremely uncomfortable in this new foreign body. 8th grade was a hard year for me. I no longer tried to stand out for excellence, I wanted to be invisible. I was afraid that if someone saw me they would notice (or worse) point out my flaws.
It didn’t help that my parents were both in great shape. My dad was very athletic and, once puberty started for me, he had the habit of telling me that I “needed” to run more. In my head, I heard ” You are not good enough yet, you need to run so that you can be perfect and worthy of love“. This plants a seed of self-loathing. Have I told you how much I hate running to this day? My already uncomfortable place in my new skin became unbearable. By the time I left for college, I was so afraid of the Freshman 15 that everyone had been sure to warn me of that I was resigned to subsist on the least amount of calories possible. 17, that was the age I was when I started on my 8 year battle with anorexia/bulimia. I never binged and purged. Never. I was a perfectionist. I starved myself to about 600 calories a day and then I vomited it all up. Everything, even water. If it went into my mouth, it came out almost immediately after. The very thought of food in my stomach was enough stress mentally to make me vomit involuntarily. It left me feeling NOT GOOD ENOUGH!
But this is not what I want for my girls. I want them to have an exorbitant amount of self-confidence, self-esteem and most importantly
Self-Worth
To do this, I have to lead by example so here is my list of what I love about myself ( after years of therapy and self-understanding:)
I love those big, crazy almond eyes of mine because I can see and cherish my daughters’ daily
I love my voice because it sings to my girls and speaks to those I love
I love my hair, it’s curly and sometimes straight and it’s beautiful
I love my strength of character because it has helped me to survive my past and go after my future
I love my resolve because it helped me overcome 8 years of eating disorder
I love my intelligence and wisdom to know what I can change and what I can not (even when it’s hard to accept).
I love my laugh, it’s loud and crazy like Ricky Ricardo but it is authentic and when you hear it; my heart is happy
I love my body for allowing me to conceive, grow and birth my children
I love my wit and humor which has allowed me to keep perspective
I love my personality that has landed me my wonderful husband ( of course the 25-year-old tits and ass didn’t hurt either:)
I love my uncanny knack to assess a situation, size up people and never back down from anything
I love that I don’t know the word quit
I love that I am so socially charged that I am NEVER uncomfortable in a group, in fact, I thrive amongst people
I love that I am honest to a fault
I love that I am genuine
I love that I love with the same faith in people that I have in God
I love that I can forgive and move past circumstances
I love that I have grown to love my own skin for all that it’s worth ( I still battle the body dysmorphic disorder) but even on days when my eyes are unhappy with the mirror, my mind knows better.
I love that I am not perfect but I am worth it. To quote Selena Gomez ( yeah I have kids…busted), I’m no beauty queen, I’m just beautiful me and that is better than good enough. And today, “I WOULDN’T WANT TO BE ANYONE ELSE!” Where does your self-worth come from?

Self-Worth

2011/07/14