The TRUTH About Motherhood

Search results for: “girls/page/16/ https:/www.target.com/c/girls-clothing/-/N-5xtwa”

The Emperor’s New Clothes
The Emperor’s New Clothes~ As readers of this blog, you all know that I am not really a “reviews” blog. I do, however, love to bring wonderful, exciting opportunities to my readers if they are beneficial 1) to maintain Mommy’s sanity 2) for our children’s health; because lets face it us Mommies can use all the quality recommendations we can get to help in our search for healthy green products, organic, nutritious snacks, and general opportunities and activities to keep our kids active and healthy 3) I am a HUGE proponent of educating our children in the arts, broadening their horizons, and anything that makes learning a fun activity and not a chore. Basically, I am trying to raise some very well-rounded, healthy happy, children..as I am sure you all are , as well. That being said, I have to share with you, my friends, an experience that my family and I enjoyed this past weekend , courtesy of the Chicago Shakespeare Theater.
Arriving at CST to see The Emperor’s New Clothes
Saturday, we had the pleasure of seeing the CST production of The Emperor’s New Clothes. We arrived at Navy Pier in Chicago, where the CST theater is so conveniently located. Convenient because CST, has designated parking at the Navy Pier garage ( so no worrying about “GARAGE IS EMPTY”) and they validate parking at a 40% discount for patrons. BONUS! Anyone who has ever had to park in the city knows that the parking situation at CST alone, is AWESOME! I was excited already and I hadn’t even entered the building yet.
So excited for the Emperor’s New Clothes to Begin
We arrive and were ushered into this gloriously enchanting theater, set up very similar to what a traditional Elizabethan theater would have been set up.Basically, the stage juts out into the center of the theater and there is truly not a bad seat in the intimate theater. The colors of the set were vibrant and my children were immediately engaged by the bold color choices and props used. The lighting worked in tandem with the characters to create an illusion of boundless space and time. In a matter of seconds, we were transformed from the Emperors closet, to a forest, and then to a shop without ever leaving our seats. The color and props supplied quite the feast for our visual appetites..
Complimentary to the vibrant colors of the set were the spectacular colorfulness and depth of the characters. The characters were multifaceted and their personalities were appealing to both children and adults alike.My daughters were giggling, clapping and thoroughly engaged throughout the entire performance. I was happily surprised. We have taken our daughters to other shows, most of the children’s channels variety and they have enjoyed them, I assume mostly because of the familiarity. This was the first time my girls have been to the “Theater” for a performance with an actual story line and not just singing and dancing performed by giant puppets or TV characters, other than the Nutcracker ( which they are obsessed with because of ballet).
The Emperor’s New Clothes is about a larger than life emperor, his daughter and their relationship. As a side story, it also explores the relationship between a seamstress and her son and Lord Vince, the Emperor’s right hand man who is actually trying to humiliate the Emperor and dethrone him so that he may become Emperor. At the core of the musical it is a love story of the most meaningful kind; the love and bond between a parent and a child. In addition to the main characters, the parents and children, there is a fantastic supporting ensemble cast consisting of the Emperor’s 3 secretaries, and random peasants who to say are humorous is a grand understatement. My children were laughing belly laughs and my husband and I were almost in tears.The Hans Christian Anderson play was skillfully and creatively adapted to be easily related to by its 21st century audience of all ages. When it was over, my girls didn’t want to leave! As a bonus, some of the characters from the Emperor’s New Clothes were available to sign programs after the show was over. My daughters loved that they got to meet the “Stars” of the show. They couldn’t stop talking about it all day. Between the audacious costumes, the brilliant sets, and the unforgettable antics of the cast; The Emperor’s New Clothes is a must see for any parent who wants to find a extraordinary way to introduce their child to the wonderful world of the classics and the theater. My children, as well as my husband and myself, had a fabulous experience at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater .
The Emperor’s New Clothes runs June 30, 2010 thru to August 29, 2010,with multiple performance times available. There are also many great activities and attractions going on at Navy Pier this summer so come for the show and make a day of it on the Pier! If you live in the Chicago land, Northwest Indiana area, I would highly recommend taking your child to see this performance while you still have the opportunity. For more information click the badge below
Disclosure: I was provided with tickets to see the Emperor’s New Clothes by The Chicago Shakespeare Theater in order to view the performance and give my own personal opinions on it. The opinions I have given are mine and may differ from others but were NOT influenced by the Chicago Shakespeare Theater..
CST Presents The Emperor’s New Clothes
2010/07/12
Tiny Ballerina ~Don’t Go breaking my Heart
My littlest ballerina begins to dance today. It has reminded me of last year at this time. With each passing year, my babies are a little less babies and a little more big girls. This makes me simultaneously ecstatic and sad beyond measure but proud always.
Months, nay years, of begging, pleading, and waiting for the day when Gabs would be able to put on those coveted pink canvas slippers and take her first ballet class had finally arrived. Gabs has been prancing around in Bella’s too large leotard and dancing, since she could walk. How adorable they had looked in their puffy pink tutu’s and tiara’s, “pliet”ing and “tendu”ing to and fro. Gabs was excited beyond anything I had seen thus far in her little life.
We, as a family, made a special trip to the ballet shop and got Gabs fitted for her first official ballet slippers. We let her and her sister pick out a new leotard and tights and Gabs got to pick out her very first ballet bag. The same as we had done for her big sister, 3 years prior. Bella was ecstatic to be sharing her love of ballet with her baby sister. This was one of those really big moments. You know the ones that you will look back on in 10 years and say, that was the first moment in the rest of her life. It was a defining moment for me too. My baby was growing up.
Tiny Ballerina, exuding grace and beauty
The night before the big day, excitement gave way to fear right before bedtime. Suddenly, Gabs was trying to use any excuse in the book to get out of going to her first class. As she was drifting asleep in my arms, she declared, “Me no go to ballet. OK, Mommy?” Umm, no that’s not OK! But what’s the point of arguing with an overtired, nervous 3-year-old? None, unless extreme aggravation is your desired end result. I told her we’d talk about it in the morning.
Morning came and she wasn’t budging. Ballet is a huge step for my Gabs. It’s something we’ve all been looking forward to but it is symbolic of something much greater for Gabs. I’m a WAHM so the girls don’t go into preschool until they are 4. Gabs is pretty timid in new situations. Bella is as well, but she is the suck it up and chin up sort of girl. Gabs is the kicking, screaming, dragging her feet, NEVER going gently into that good night. Never! Gabs will scream and refuse, she has no shame in raging against the dawn but once you force her to face her fears and anxiety, she loves it. This is how it works with this little one. Everything is difficult but everything is so worth it! It breaks my heart to push my baby ballerina bird out of the nest. Dance baby, dance!
My Tiny Ballerina is growing up too fast
2011/08/29
Be A Better Me (You) Challenge- The culmination
Now that my Be a Better Me (You) Challenge has concluded with my birthday, I am feeling a little more focused on who I am and who I want to be in the world, more importantly I’ve come full circle…who I want to be for my girls. The challenge has taught me that being the mother to my girls is a huge part of who I am. I don’t have to go and find myself..I’m right here. I just have to remember to give a little attention to my own wants and needs. It’s not a sin, it in the end makes me not only better for me but better for those adorable little creatures that I get to call mine and the Big Guy. I hope you all spent the weekend celebrating your assets. I did. I celebrated me in a huge way and I will share that in a forthcoming post, complete with photos. Just as soon as I can get the photos of my camera. So, keep a look out for that…its a doozie! In the end, I just want to remind you all that you are important, you are special, you are some little ones everything …so take care of you and put yourself at the top of your list. Happy Mothering!
2010/09/27
The Great Debate; Does playing in a chlorinated pool, in fact, constitute a bath?
If you would have asked me a mere 3 years ago when we hired fibreglass pool installers to put our pool if the daily splash in it made by would substitute for a nightly bath, I would have answered a resounding “HELL NO!” Followed by, “That is disgusting! Mom’s who do that are lazy and gross!”
Fast forward to a second child, a raging case of Mommy brain that sometimes feels like a slight case of sun-downers and I’d say, “Maybe?” “It’s better than nothing, right?” “Chlorine is in bleach and bleach is a cleaning agent,ergo the girls are sorta clean, right?”
First, let me start by admitting, I know that it’s gross! Also, let me say that I know this is no substitute for a bath. But sometimes, on those long tiring days of summer,when all time, space and reality is out of whack…it is what it is! Before, I would have reacted like a mad woman, yelling and screeching while overtired, wanting to be playing outside ( damn you long days) children fought the bath like a cat about to be drowned. Oh but I would have won the battle, probably much weaker from the wear. But I am a bigger woman these days, I’d much rather just admit defeat and own up to the fact that some night, like tonight..I wasn’t sure what day I last gave the girls an actual bath. I’m pretty sure it was Saturday Morning before our road trip,so they are due but it will have to wait until tomorrow morning before our next road trip. You didn’t think I was going to take them to my in laws dirty, did you? Geez, what am I some kind of “bad” Mother? Don’t judge me and don’t tell me that your kids have never substituted a day in the pool for a 20 minute splash in the bathtub! That being said, obviously a splash in any organic body of water is not acceptable. My rule is if fish, or anything else, procreate , defecate, masturbate and urinate in it…it doesn’t count as a substitute. That would be why public pools do not count! EWWW!
What are your thoughts? Have your kiddies ever missed a bath or , ahem, two during swimsuit season? I’m not perfect, but I fight the good fight! Happy Mothering!
2010/07/13
Under Pressure

Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
Tonight, I’m sitting here with a lot of feelings swirling around in my heart and a lot of thoughts and unanswered questions in my head. At the top of that list is how to help your child survive depression and anxiety. There’s been a lot of big things happening around here. Yesterday, we celebrated Bella’s Junior day at school. How can my first baby be a senior and be leaving for college soon? Sunday will be the 10th anniversary of the loss of our third baby and it’s tinging every day this week with sadness.
Today was the day that I’d been dreading my entire life even before I had my children. The one thing I hoped would never happen, the thing that has filled me with guilt and sadness since even before thinking of becoming a mom.
Today, my daughter verbalized what most adults cannot… she told me that she no longer feels any joy in her life.
I was diagnosed Bipolar 1 when I was in my 20s and back then, I was very regularly manic. That’s how my bipolar presents mostly, I fly so high that I can’t come down so I fly erratically until the extreme irritability and anger kick in. Then, I become unbearable. So, I was relieved when I got my diagnosis because it meant I was bent not broken and that felt kind of like a miracle to me. It felt as good as being cured. But the one thing that scared me the most was the possibility of passing it along to my children. I’d rather live my life dealing with the harsh reality of highs and lows than ever let my children feel one moment of unrest but we don’t always get what we want.
Because of my own experience with mental illness, I am an advocate for my children’s mental health. I’ve raised them knowing that everyone could benefit from therapy and that there is no shame in having a mental illness diagnosis. It just is what it is and all we can do is get a good psychiatrist, a compassionate psychologist and work the plan and take our meds. We have to do the work and it is some of the hardest work you’ll ever do but it’s the only way to get through it.
Today, my worst fear was realized when I heard my child, whom I love more than my own life, say that she could feel no joy and thought maybe she needed more help than I alone could give. On one hand, I was so proud of her for advocating for herself and for being so self-aware at such a young age but on the other hand, I was absolutely terrified. How can this be happening?
I’ve done everything I could think of proactively because of living with and learning about my own mental illness. My girls have been in therapy for the past 2 years. I keep a close eye on their mental health and well-being, we talk about everything openly and I look for the signs because I know how torturous it is to go through it alone. But there are some things you can’t stop from happening. You can only be there to help them find their way and mental illness one of those things that you can’t stop from happening. No matter who you are, how much money you have, where you live or who you think you are, mental illness does not discriminate. The difference in the outcome is whether you get the help you need or not.
In my 20’s, I was very manic almost exclusively but when I was my daughters’ ages (really from about 14-18 years old) I was highly suicidal. But it wasn’t just ideation, I had a plan. I had backup plans to my plan. It was so painful to live that I often felt the only way to stop the pain was to disappear into the abyss. I wanted to die more than I wanted anything else. Honestly, I used to pray for the strength to do it but there was one thing that stopped me, my mom. I just couldn’t get past what it would do to her and the thought of me being the cause of her feeling like she wanted to disappear into the abyss was the very thing that prompted me to keep fighting. I never told a soul and the fact that my daughter discussed her mental health with me, I feel, is evolved beyond what I was at her age.
I knew that if I killed myself, I would essentially be killing my own mother and I could never do that to her so I kept living. One day at a time, some days, one minute at a time and on others, one second at a time. Living during that time felt cruel and unusual but it was my only option. I think that’s where my unbreakable (or as my daughters call it unbearable) optimism comes from. I had to find a way to keep going through the darkest time of my life, alone.
My point is that life is a struggle for all of us in its own way. Sometimes life is so hard and scary that it’s almost impossible to see clear of the darkness. But I promise that eventually, the darkness lifts and becomes bearable. Learn to read between the lines and hear what your teenagers are feeling, beyond what they are saying. It’s not easy being a teenager in today’s digital world. There is so much pressure to be perfect in a world where everything is filtered and curated.
At the end of the day, all I want is for my girls to be happy. I want them to feel loved and filled with hope and a sense of purpose. I want them to know that everything is possible and no dream is too big. But mostly, I want them to feel real, genuine joy and I will do whatever it takes to make sure that I safely get them to a place where they can and they do. It’s been one of the hardest weeks of my life but I am grateful that she felt comfortable enough to talk to me because it terrifies to think about the alternative.
Have you ever been faced with the fact that your child may have a mental health issue and need help beyond what you can offer as a mom? What did you do? How did you get through it and comfort your child in a meaningful way without trivializing or catastrophizing their situation? How did you learn to listen beyond their words?
2022/04/27
My Family went Inside Out for Halloween
Our entire lives have been upside down and inside out since I broke my leg but we are learning to deal with it. Honestly, this broken leg has not just changed my life it’s upset the entire ecosystem of my family. It’s been a crazy couple of months so this Halloween, we fittingly went as characters from Inside Out.
I haven’t been out a lot lately so I was really excited to take the girls Trick or Treating. The Big Guy was Anger, which made us all laugh since Anger is small and my husband is 6’5”. My oldest was Joy and my youngest was Disgust. The obvious choice for me was Sadness, to round out the crew, but I figured there’s been enough sadness so I chose to go another route. I decided to be Bing Bong.
Why Bing Bong from Inside Out, you ask?
Well, I felt like I needed a little whimsy in my life. Though I must say, it’s a challenge trying to bring a child’s imaginary friend to life on Halloween or any other day of the week. I spent the night being confused for Katy Perry and Niki Minaj as the Big Guy wheeled me around the neighborhood.
It was exhausting to be out and around in the chilly, autumn night air but at the same time it was invigorating. I felt like a human again. Hearing my girls giggle as they ran door-to-door trick or treating made my heart happy.
It’s funny how sometimes the simple things like being outside of your own four walls, participating in life can make all the difference. For one night, I felt like I got to escape my injury and do the things I’ve always done with my family. I felt normal and it was amazing, even if it was while I was dressed as an imaginary friend.
In the end, maybe I looked like Katy Perry in a wheelchair with a broken leg and a crazy pair of Olivia Newton John sparkly hot pants and not Bing Bong. Maybe no one quite got what I was supposed to be but I needed it.

We all needed a little Inside Out to get right side up.
2015/11/02
The Tale of the Leaky Eyed Ghost; Updates from the Couch
I’ve been experiencing some depression lately due to my broken leg. Really down, the kind where you look up and you see nothing but darkness. For all my issues, I’ve only felt this way 2 other times in my life… The hot mess years that I refer to as my teens and when I had my miscarriage.
Anyone who knows me, like you, knows that I’m a glass half-full kind of broad. Yep, I’m scrappy and a little rough around the edges but it’s a coping mechanism I’ve employed for most of my life. When life serves me a bowl full of rancid, rotten lemons… Chances are, I’m going to share it with you in a funny, anecdotal way that’s going to convince you that I’m going to be alright. I’ll probably even make you smile. I do it to help myself get through it.
I’m not the misery enjoys company sort. There’s enough bad, sad, no good terrible shit in the world. I don’t want to add to it. Plus, I’ve never thought of myself as a victim and I certainly don’t want others to. Nope, I’m a bootstrap girl. I pull myself up and I carry on, in fact, I’ll probably exceed your expectations because that’s just how I roll.
However, I’m human and sometimes when circumstances are beyond my control I can’t be that positive, happy person that I will myself to be. This usually happens when my body and my mind decide to both be broken at the same time. I can handle one or the other, but when it’s both… Sometimes it’s too much.
Thankfully, years of therapy, self awareness and a full capability of knowing when to accept the things I cannot change allows me to sometimes give myself over to it. There are somethings in life that simply demand to be felt, whether we prefer it or not. When this happens, all you can do is decide whether you want to be left destroyed in its wake or if you’re going to move on from the emotional, physical or spiritual hurricane that hits your life.
I’ve been in the midst of a very hard, leaky eyed ghost situation. When I say leaky eyed ghost, I mean that I’m feeling invisible and I’m finding myself crying a lot more than usual. It’s hard for me to get right side up from this injury because, quite frankly, I’m spending a lot of time these days in the vulnerable position of on my back alone with nothing but my thoughts, which have all been negative only ever so slightly peppered with breaks in the sadness.
I’ve been feeling lonely, helpless, useless and afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of how this is affecting my husband and the girls and afraid I won’t fully recover. I’ve been feeling afraid of everything. The worst part is that the entire world is carrying on while I’m just sitting here watching it all, being completely unseen.
It’s very unsettling to feel forgotten and even worse to realize that you could cease to exist and your world would simply carry on without you. The world will not stop to grieve for any of us for very long. It will go on just like it did the day before. That’s a hard, sobering truth to accept. There have been days when all I can do is cry, to feel alive. There are days that I’ve kicked and screamed just to make enough ruckus to remind the people I love that I need to be heard. I need them to stop and, just for a moment, make me the center of their world. I realize it sounds selfish and childish but it’s the only thing to assuage my fear of disappearing and the fear and vulnerability that comes with that.
Sometimes when you’re engulfed in the darkness, a change of scenery can change your entire perspective even if just for a few moments, hours, days… enough to get you to survive. That’s where I’m at as I type this.
My best friend, Niki, and her family are family that we chose. Her and I found each other freshman year of college 23 years ago. We’ve grown up together. We are the keeper of one another’s secrets and our friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and 100% unconditional love. I can tell her, literally, anything and there will never be judgement, second guessing or condemnation. The friendship is simple, unconditional love and complete freedom to be ourselves all of the time. She’s my chosen sister which means we will always love each other, even if one of us does something the other doesn’t particularly like. We love each other enough to respectfully disagree on occasion.
We had a trip planned to visit her and her family on our way back from our fall trip to Disney this past week. We cancelled Disney because I can’t walk but we decided we really needed this trip to soothe our souls. But the day before we left, the kids were arguing constantly, my leg was really hurting from physical therapy and it just seemed like a lot of work lugging a shower chair, wheelchair, a walker and trying to stay comfortable. We were all over extended. The girls were being so bad that the Big guy cancelled the trip but something at my core screamed for help. This trip was our lifeline and we all knew it.
This was my way out of the darkness of my depression.
So we loaded into the SUV at 4 am on Thursday and emotionally & physically exhausted we drove east, praying it would all work out but knowing this was our road to salvation, our reprieve from the darkness…it was just enough air to keep the darkness from suffocating and killing us all.
It’s Saturday night and we’ve done nothing extraordinary, other than simultaneously coexist in that comfortable silence that only comes from being around the people who love you for real; not in words and declarations but in actions. The people who know that your heart is heavy, your soul is beaten and your body is weary and they take you into their home and make it yours. The people who love you at your worst and only see the best. Words will never be enough to convey what this friendship means to us. But I’d like to try.
Niki, thank you for always getting me and always loving me no matter what and thank you for such an amazing family that love us just as much as we love you. You are my sister forever and always, nothing can ever change that. I hope someday I can take care of you, the way you’ve taken care of us this past week. You’ve saved us by changing our perspective simply by changing our view. Where I only saw darkness a few days ago, I now see all the beauty, love and blessings that my life is filled with.
Sorry Nik, I know how much you worry about ending up in one of my posts but I had to share with the world how amazing you are 😉 Love you , hermanita!
I never knew a person could experience depression from a broken bone but its real and it’s awful.
2015/10/28
The Boogie Man; he cometh to suck the boogies
I am NOT the Mommy who tells her kid about the Boogie Man. I decided this a long time ago because well, its just a tool parents use to scare their children into behaving well. I know, this coming from the same broad who tells her daughters that magical kneecap breaking elves are sent from Santa to keep a watchful eye over them and report back to the Fat Jolly guy, doesn’t make a lot of sense. So, why, you ask, do I draw a line at the “Boogie Man”? Simply because, I tell them monsters are not real and I think they are too young for the whole God/Satan discussion. Therefore, no one is allowed to even joke that the Boogie man is getting anyone in this house. Capiche?
Unfortunately, I had a little slip today. Yes, one of my girls did something ( I can’t honestly even remember what it was at this point) and I made the comment that the Boogie man something or other. As soon as I said it, I wanted to eat the words. I wanted to swallow them whole and push them deep down inside my stomach but it was too late. Those 2 words had fell on to the most astute ears of all time, the ears of Gabs. You know like the ides of March but much more dangerous.
What did I do? Well, I don’t lie to my children ( well, I don’t want to ) so how can I get out of this?I’d said it, she knew it meant something not good, so how the hell was I going to explain it all away? My thought process; Sesame street, Cookie Monster ( big blue friendly dude); Mommy fuck up,Boogie Monster; Crazy invisible guy who comes and eats the boogies of little kids who don’t listen. What a train wreck! Clearly, I should have put more thought into this craziness.
I know, its a terrible cover. One day she’ll know that the Boogie Man is a synonym for Satan but for now she thinks that the Boogie Monster is an invisible dude who comes around if he hears little girls talking back, fighting, telling their Mommy or sister they hate her, or being generally not good ..its the only time he is even aware of their existence.But if he hears, he’ll come and suck all the boogies out of their noses in the middle the night ( sort of like one of those giant bulb suckers which of course, they detest)but ONLY if they are not good.
What white lies have you told your children when caught in a compromising position? How did it work out for you?We’re you ever busted? I’m pretty sure this whole boogie monster thing is going to blow up all over my face. It’s just a matter of time.Bella listened to my explanation and gave me the “I’m not sure but I’m pretty sure that you’re full of crap Mom” look when she heard the whole sordid explanation. Gabs, on the other hand, she’s been the best she’s been since birth! Bella was pretty good too. She’s not taking any chances with Christmas being so close and all.That’s my smart cookie!Happy Mothering!
2010/12/22
Tooth Fairy, Why your Kid Might Think She’s Creepy
Recently, it seems that my girls are growing up at lightning speed. The things they say, the mannerisms, the reading, the attention to detail in their looks, and especially the observations that they make of the world, blow my mind. Here is one of Bella’s gems, as of late. Hint: She thinks the tooth fairy is creepy.
Bella recently lost her very first tooth. It was right around Halloween. She was very excited. Her father and I were (let me honest) pretty sad because, you see, this represents her growing up. This is just another first part of letting go. Bet you never knew losing baby teeth had such a deep meaning, did you?
Though we may not be thrilled about what it symbolizes, you know we had to make a BIG GIGANTIC deal about it. This is the FIRST tooth. Grandma sent a little satin pillow to place the tooth in and put under my Bella’s pillow and there was a little book to record the moment. I snapped pictures and wiped away a tear*sniff, sniff* Another magical, mythical character to complete this childhood fantasy in the books.
It was time to perform our parently duties and perpetuate the myth of the tooth fairy for the first time. We were officially going to be a part of the problem.
It happened on a Thursday, in the middle of the night and Bella told me that she wanted to wait for her Daddy to be home, so he could be part of this momentous occasion. Friday comes, the Big Guy is home, while he and I are hushedly discussing the going rate for a first tooth these days and deciding whether or not one of us had to hit the ATM, Bella walks right up to us and delivers this proclamation;
“Mommy and Daddy, I don’t think I am going to put my tooth under my pillow tonight!”
We look at one another bewildered. We’d been waiting for this milestone first tooth to fall out and the tooth fairy to come. Did I mention she had been waiting for this tooth to fall out since she started kindergarten and all the other kids were missing teeth?
Me:” Why not, sweetie?”
Bella:” Well, Mommy, I was thinking about it and it’s pretty creepy that the tooth fairy comes in the middle of the night and steals my tooth!”
I shake my head in agreement. My husband is stifling his laughter because really he is just a giant 10-year old, plus it was pretty freaking funny. She was dead serious!
Me:” Well, Bella, the fairy doesn’t really steal it. She takes your tooth away and leaves you some money. She buys it!”
Bella: “Mommy, I don’t think my teeth are for sale!”
It’s hard to argue with reason and determination. Y’all know that lying is not my forte anyway. These white lies are one of the hardest parts of motherhood for me.
At least we didn’t plot to murder the tooth fairy

<span data-mce-type="bookmark" style="display: inline-block; width: 0px; overflow: hidden; line-height: 0;" class="mce_SELRES_start"></span>
So the kid’s got a point. It is a pretty creepy idea of some little freaky tooth obsessed fairy coming into your bedroom, in the middle of the night, and stealing your discarded teeth away. Who does my Bella think is coming? The tooth fairy? Or the Chupacabra?
Tooth Fairy; Reasons You Shouldn’t Promote this Childhood Myth
In exchange, the fairy leaves the child a little monetary token on their nightstand, like a John would do for his hooker. It’s all very seedy. Perhaps, we should have given this story a little more thought.
I could not in good conscience argue this point with her.
I simply told her: “Bella, you don’t have to give your tooth to the tooth fairy tonight. We can just hold on to it and when /if you decide to leave it for the fairy, we can do that too, OK?”
Bella looks at me perplexed and then she has a eureka look on her face.
Bella: “Mommy, why don’t you and Daddy just give me the money and you can keep the tooth!”
Uh oh, the jig is up before it even began. I back peddled and told her something about angering the tooth Gods and throwing off the natural balance of the universe or something to that effect(who can remember, I was floundering to save her childhood) and then I quickly exited the room with her innocence intact.
Now that I think of it, I should have just agreed to her request to pay her for her teeth and saved myself some headaches.
Whew! What’s next? The Easter Bunny? Fairy Godmothers? Santa Claus? Unicorns? Somebody slow down this ride, I want to get off. Where are the brakes?
What do you do when your child starts questioning the fictitious people in their lives like the tooth fairy?

2010/12/02
How a Curb took me Out of My Sister’s Wedding and Straight to the ER
Last weekend, I fell off a curb. I know, it sounds hilarious because this is the kind of klutzy antics one might have come to expect if you’ve known me any length of time. I am the girl who is constantly and consistently rolling her ankle because of uneven sidewalks and misplaced, rogue pebbles. Go ahead, laugh. It really is like a cartoon but what happened last Saturday resulted in a severely broken leg and was anything but laughable or funny. Believe it or not, I’m not even being dramatic. I know many of you have been following along on social media because obviously when I’m sedated on painkillers and bedridden, I like to post pictures and updates. This is the story of that one time I fell 6 inches, got a broken leg, and destroyed life as I know it.
How a Curb took me Out of My Sister’s Wedding and Straight to the ER
Saturday, September 12^th, my little sister (my best friend) got married. I was the maid of honor. We were looking forward to this moment for a year. She was so happy and I was ecstatic to see her glowing and really, ridiculously and honestly happy. The morning was spent running around picking her dress up and gathering last minute things. I woke her up and serenaded her with a crackly voiced giggling version of Going to the Chapel of Love that only a big sister can sing to a little sister. Then it was the usual excitement and clamor that would fill a house full of women getting ready for a wedding. Above all else, I wanted her to be happy and stress-free. Never could I have imagined that a broken leg and I would be the source of everyone’s stress that day.
READ ALSO: My Real Life is an Actual TikTok trend
Hair and makeup showed up. I busied myself making sure that all the last-minute finishing touches didn’t overwhelm her. I painted her toenails and lotioned her legs. I happily got her some breakfast and something to drink. I didn’t want her to fret over any of it. I just wanted her to enjoy this huge moment of her life. We talked and laughed as she had her hair done. I sat across from her doing my daughters’ hair as her make-up was done and when the time came, I helped to dress my baby sister for the biggest moment of her life. It almost felt religious. I never would have believed that after it was all said and done, a curb would take me out of my sister’s wedding and straight to the ER.
As all the chaos and drama began to descend upon us as the house filled more and more with loved ones (as it tends to do), I helped to dress her as the photographer clicked away, capturing every single tear of joy and sigh of relief. We were all in the moment and happy. A broken leg was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind.
As I stood there taping her into her drop sleeves, I saw the face of my little sister just as she was when she was 6 and I was helping to dress her for her First Communion; still, that little girl looking for reassurance and guidance from her big sister, me still wanting to make everything perfect for her. Eventually, we made it to the venue and I cried at how absolutely stunning she looked as she walked down the aisle. Then she became his wife and it was time to celebrate this amazing moment of true happiness in her life. But before the reception, we had a pit stop at a local park to take wedding pictures; this is where it all went wrong.
Minutes before a Curb took me Out of My Sister’s Wedding and Straight to the ER
It was a breezy, gorgeous Saturday in September but we were all hungry and ready to celebrate. We took family photos and then it was time to take wedding party photos. We were losing daylight and the reception was getting ready to start as we hurried through the photo process. Finally, we were all headed back to our cars and to the reception. I was lagging behind, holding my sister’s bouquet and veil, as the photographer was taking more couple shots throughout the park.
READ ALSO: An Unexpected Side Effect of a Broken Leg, Cast Fetishist.
I remember looking back and thinking how beautiful she looked. Then, I decided to head to our where the Big Guy and our girls were already waiting. I looked at the Hummer that was decorated for the wedding that my sister was riding in and then I turned for one last glance at my sister smiling before I took a step down from the sidewalk to the parking lot. My last thought was, God, she really looks happy, and then my foot never landed on the parking lot.
The Saga of the Maid of Honor’s Broken Leg Begins
In that terrible moment, my right ankle rolled. As it rolled, my left foot came up and tried to catch my balance, however, due to the combo of the wedged flip flops and a too-long dress, it got caught up and instead crashed down. At that moment, I heard the bones break and I felt the ankle dislocate. I was down on my right knee and my left leg was useless. I knew when I felt it that I would not be standing up. The pain was instant and unmistakable. I didn’t even have the strength to sit. I had to push myself over and sort of fall into the wheel (side of the car) of the car to my right.
I looked down and saw my ankle. My left leg was straight but my left foot was facing directly left and the bone was dislocated in such a drastic way that it looked like something you might see in a horror movie. As I scanned up, with all the bridal party and my entire family running to my side as I tried not to pass out from the pain, I saw that I was facing the beautifully decorated wedding vehicle and all I could think was, “Oh God, Please don’t let my daughters see me this way and please don’t let me ruin my sister’s wedding day!”
My sister was still back in the park a ways getting her photos so she didn’t immediately see what was going on and luckily, my 18-year-old niece ran to the car to sit with my daughters so they never saw my ankle or me crying like a baby because I did. I was in such pain, there was nothing I could do but howl and cry like a baby until the ambulance got there. It felt like forever.
There is nothing quite like maiming yourself in front of literally all of the people that you love; all of my brothers, sisters, parents, nieces, nephews and husband. Everyone was in shock. The sight of impact was horrifying and I’m sure me wailing in pain was nothing short of pathetic and heartbreaking. I remember everyone trying to keep me calm and reassure me that everything was going to be ok but the pain, it was searing and took my breath away.
I remember my brother and his wife, who have been through broken bones with their athletic children many times, one rubbing my back while my husband told me to look at it. My brother was telling me that, “It’s not that bad, Deb.” He was looking at my right ankle, the scratched and bleeding one that was only severely sprained. My other brother-in-law had covered my ankles in some effort to avert my eyes from fixating on the mangled mess that sat at the bottom of my left leg. To which I responded, “It’s the other one, Mother F*cker (or so he tells me, I don’t quite remember what I said, I was trying to stave off shock which I went into right about the time they had to splint me for the ambulance ride to the hospital).” He almost passed out when he saw the left ankle. It was truly horrifying and just the thought of it right now makes my leg hurt.
Anyways, eventually the ambulance came and took me away and eventually my sister saw what was happening and ran over through a blockade of people who were trying to stop her. She wanted to come with me to the hospital but I wanted her to have the best wedding ever so I sent her to the wedding along with my children and the rest of my family, except for the Big Guy, I needed him. He is my rock. That man has been a saint since this all happened. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky but he is the most amazing man I have ever met in my entire life.
And all though breaking my fibula, shattering my tibia, dislocating my left ankle and having to have extensive surgery because the trauma was like that of a car accident and not a trip and even though my cartilage exploded into dust and my right leg is acutely sprained, it’s reminded me of how lucky I am to have the people I love in my life. My husband, my children, my in-laws, my friends, my neighbors, my sister and brothers and my parents are all in. They have rallied around me to pick up the slack and encourage me and pray for me. And you, all of you, your prayers and thoughts have meant so much to me.
I hate that this happened. It has put me on time out of my life for 3 months. My leg has to be elevated and non-weight bearing for 3 months. I’ve had to find rides and for my girls and people to help but it’s really shown me that I have a lot of people who care about me and, in honesty, I needed the break. I was doing too much. I would have never slowed down if it weren’t forced on me. In the end how a curb took me out of my sister’s wedding and straight to the ER is laughable, if traumatic, experience that I will never forget but it reminded me of what is important.
Has a broken leg or any injury ever been a blessing in disguise in your life?
2015/09/22