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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
How to Remove a Stain from Almost Anything
As a mother with young children, I am no stranger to stains — spit up, baby food, grass stains, coffee, and knocked-over wine, but my least favorite is blood. Not just because that means someone got hurt but also because it’s hard to get it out. It means extra work and time that I don’t have, precious time that I could be spending with my girls.
Both of my daughters are ballerinas. You might not think that would be a dangerous sport but if you add to it a hot, dry studio and a child prone to nose bleeds, you have a recipe for near-constant disaster. White cotton leotards and bloodstains go together like oil and water.
A bloody nose during ballet used to mean trashing the leotards, letting go, and buying a new one, but as the girls get older and the leotards get more expensive, that’s becoming less and less of an option. What’s a mom supposed to do?
Well, the solution is finally here. OxiClean™ Laundry Detergent is an all-in-one solution for all of your laundering* needs. It helps save time since it is the the best laundry stain remover and it helps you save money that you would have wasted on replacing stained items.
Blood is a protein-based stain that OxiClean™ Laundry detergent can help remove. As with all stains, the faster you can treat the stain, the better the results will be. I rinse the bloodstained leotard immediately and let it fully soak in cold water. Then I use a little bit of OxiClean™ laundry detergent to pretreat the stain, wait 10-15 minutes and then wash with OxiClean™ laundry detergent. Then, before drying the leotard, I double check to make sure the stain is completely gone.
The OxiClean™power we’ve all come to know and love is now available in a liquid laundry detergent.
It’s powered by three color-safe OxiClean™ stain-fighters that penetrate fabrics to get them really clean while removing a wide range of tough stains. It’s available in a Fresh Scent or Perfume and Dye Free.
OxiClean™ laundry detergent helps remove those stains that all of us moms struggle with: grass, blood, fruit juices, fruits, wine, chocolate ice cream, ketchup, spaghetti sauce, and barbecue sauce. It helps me to be less uptight and just let my kids play and enjoy their childhood without worrying whether or not they are going to ruin their “good clothes” every time they wear them. Clothes are made to be worn, and life is made to be lived.
When I see my daughters dancing on stage, I don’t want to worry about whether or not their leotards are blood-stained. I know all the blood, sweat, tears, and years of dedication it took to get there. I want them to look clean, fresh, and ethereal when they dance, and OxiClean™ laundry detergent has the “wow factor” that allows my ballerinas to have the confidence to shine on stage, uncompromised by the limitations of bloody noses or anything else.
*Please follow manufacturer directions for your garments. For best results, pretreat stains with laundry detergent, wait 5-10 minutes and then wash.
Disclosure: This post was sponsored by OxiClean™ through their partnership with POPSUGAR Select. While I was compensated to write a post about OxiClean™ n Laundry, all opinions are my own.
2015/08/31
Back-to-School means Time to Get Back to Me
Summer was insane around here, packed full of traveling and the making of all the fun childhood memories but now it’s time to get back to me. It was awesome for the girls and us too. I love having them home but for me it was a little bit of the summer of Mom Interrupted.
My house looked like a cyclone hit it at all times. Getting work done felt like a covert opp because I was doing it after they went to bed, before they woke up and sneaking away for quiet moments at my keyboard while they were occupied with the Big Guy outside; all the while my heart was longing to be outside with them enjoying it. The mommy guilt was strong with me this summer, even though I was putting most things aside to be in the moment. It just never felt like enough.
I’ve noticed the older they get, the faster the summers go and more and more often I feel myself being torn between being their mom, his wife and my own person. I want to be happy and to be happy; those three components need to coexist in harmony. I need to be there for them but I definitely need to be here for me too. When the balance gets out of whack, my entire universe starts spinning off its axis. The truth is that one thing fuels the other and makes it better.
But how do I be there for them and still get back to me?
Being a good wife means a happy marriage, which means a stable, happy home for my children but none of that is possible if I am not happy with myself. So I have these three balls in the air at all times; my career, my daughters and my husband. Usually it is easy, I mean these are my priorities so 3 priorities are perfect until anything unexpected or extra comes up (which has been happening all summer) and then all the balls start dropping and I am jumping around like a mad woman trying to catch them before they hit the floor and shatter because obviously in my mind my balls are fragile. But my balls are strong; they are made of rubber. Anyways, enough about comparing my family to balls. The point is they are more resilient than I give them credit for and so am I.
But school has started back and I am writing in quiet from the hours of 8-2:30 and our routine is hectic but it’s manageable because we work together as a family to function smoothly. Sure there are hiccups but with everyone being flexible and having our priorities, life is easier. The thing that really keeps all the balls in the air is recognizing when one of us needs a break from the juggling or needs some extra TLC.
Every so often when things at the office get a little too hectic or my husband has a big project due, we all recognize that he might need a little more time to play Call of Duty and kill some zombies to decompress so I ask him to do less around the house during that time. Sometimes the kids get overwhelmed with homework and extracurricular activities, especially when they have performances or big tests coming up and that’s when they get extra cuddles, more understanding and maybe a pass on chores. And sometimes, I really need a day of quiet, to sleep in or just someone else to juggle all the balls for awhile because my arms are exhausted and this is when my family steps in and takes over; back-to-school is one of those times of year.
The girls are excited and anxious about starting a new school year with new teachers and new friends but at the same time, I am juggling all the balls and about 20 more and after a summer with just throwing balls and letting them fall where they may, this is near impossible and very stressful. I am in desperate need of a girl’s weekend in Chicago, a week at the beach or just a spa day.
Who am I kidding, I would settle for a day of no obligations; sleeping through the night without any interruptions and waking up on my own, a hot, relaxing bath, take out, no kids bickering and a back massage by the Big Guy. That sounds just about like perfection to me.
What’s your idea of the perfect back to me day?

Disclosure: I am a Wayfair ambassador but all opinions about how I get back to me are my own.
2015/08/21
How to Keep Your Shit Together
Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
These past few weeks of motherhood have been thus far some of the hardest ever. Shit has happened that no one teaches you about in the parenting books. I’ve studied the whole of the DSM and I still couldn’t have been prepared, as a mother, for the kind of emotional toll that has been taken on me. That’s why I’m realizing how to protect your mental health while taking care of everyone else is so important for parents.
You know there are things you expect, in the back of your head, in the bottom of your heart and right there in the pit of your stomach. Things that you know can happen, like all those terrible side effects they warn you of when you are taking the drugs that will save your life. You take them anyways because living is more important than having the shakes. Well, my friends, this shit was not on the warning label when I got pregnant. Or maybe it was and I chose not to believe it.
I have been struggling with mental illness since the teen years. There is a whole list of disorders and illnesses that I can speak of at length and in-depth. That should have been a red flag to me that maybe I needed to be a little more prepared for what could happen if the girls got triggered. But, I thought, I’ve got this. I found my way out of the darkness. It’ll be fine. And it was until it wasn’t anymore.
In my teen years, my mind was held hostage in a dark abyss. I couldn’t find my way out or at least it felt like I couldn’t but, true to Debi fashion, one step at a time, one moment at a time, I survived. Barely. Even though there were days when it was so painful to be alive that I prayed something or someone would kill me because I couldn’t do it myself and hurt my mom. She was my savior and she had no idea of the dark thoughts that were infiltrating my brain. It’s probably better that way. But I know.
In those days, it hurt to breathe because it felt counterintuitive and I cried more tears than I thought were even possible. But, my childhood was tumultuous to put it nicely. A lot of bad shit happened to me and when you’re a kid, you can only take so much before you break. Or so I thought. I’m more resilient than I ever imagined because I never actually broke, I just bent as far as my child mind and body could.
I promised myself that I would never allow that to be my daughters’ stories. They would live a “normal” life. As if I even know what that looks like. I promised myself they would never be triggered and I thought I could protect them from my same fate. But I was wrong. There are some things we can’t actually stop from happening, no matter how hard we try or how ‘good’ we are at this parenting thing. Maybe this is why I feel like such a fraud when people compliment me. I know the truth. There are simply some things that are beyond our control. That’s a hard and bitter pill for this recovering smother mother to swallow.
How to protect your mental health while taking care of everyone else is a hard, but imperative, balance to find
Today, I took my daughter to her first adolescent group therapy session. Never expected that to be a milestone. She almost cried when I left her. I almost cried when I left her in a room full of strange kids in their own turmoil. Is this a good idea? Is she going to get ideas or learn bad habits? But isn’t this supposed to help her live? All that matters is that she makes it through, by any means possible. She is the most important thing in my life. She and her sister are truly my entire reason why.
A couple of weeks ago, her depressive episode got so bad that I could see her slipping into that same dark abyss that I used to live in. I lived there for years. I honestly thought I’d never escape. I resigned myself to living there alone with my pain until it killed me. For me, it started at 12-years-old with body dysmorphia, then the major depression and suicidal ideations started around freshman year of high school, onto eating disorders beginning around 17 ( bulimia then anorexia with extreme exercising), and ultimately a diagnosis of bipolar 1 when I spent most of my college years and my mid 20’s manic AF. I didn’t have my first panic attack until I was 35-years-old but according to my psychiatrist, anxiety was there first.
As a child, I was prone to terrible stomach aches that landed me in the emergency room on more than one occasion. That’s how little Debi’s anxiety from living with an abusive, alcoholic father first manifested. But I learned quickly, around 7-years-old, how to develop my coping mechanisms. I’m a counter. It worked for years until my husband lost his job when I was 35. #mommysfirstpanicattack Yep, if I’m anxious and talking to people (pushing through my anxiety) I’m probably counting every word you are saying and all the letters in the words. I know I’m an extrovert but I also have my limits. I didn’t even realize I counted or what it meant until about a year into my therapy. Did I mention now ADHD is on the table? Aye aye aye. Like seriously, what the actual fuck?
Anyways, most if not all of these things are in control ( save for a little mania that gets triggered when I’m under duress…you know like when you’re dealing with the guilt and pressure of passing along your fucked up brain chemistry to your children). You have not had mom guilt of this level if you haven’t genetically fucked your kids up. It is a special kind of hell because it is in fact my fault. I’ve been crying about this a lot lately.
Right now, I’m trying to keep my shit together while putting out a seemingly unlimited amount of mental health trash fires over here daily. It’s a lot. I’m overwhelmed. I’m triggered and I’m trying my best to do what’s best for everyone, especially my girls. I thought I was holding it together. I mean I know that on the inside, I’m falling apart but I thought on the outside, I was taking care of business. I think I am for the most part but I’m neglecting myself. I know this because the other days while I was sobbing about my daughter’s mental health crisis, I could hear my pressured speech and feel my pressured thoughts machine-gunning out of my head and my husband gave me a hug and said, “But Debi, you haven’t looked happy for a while.” And he’s not wrong. I’m too overwhelmed and exhausted and scared to be happy because what right do I have when my children are in pain?
That’s how I know that I need to step back, take inventory and do whatever I need to do to get my own mental health in order. Because skipping myself isn’t doing any favors for my children or my husband. In fact, I’m adding to the pile of neverending trash fires currently going on. Look, I’m not complaining. This is me processing. I write, that’s how I survive.
If you’ve ever wondered why my feeds are not perfectly curated, it’s not because I don’t know that it’s what people want its because I refuse to live a lie. My battle with eating disorders made me a liar for about 8 solid years. You have to lie to hide the fact that you are slowly killing yourself from the people who love you. If not, they will stop you from your slow suicide. And I preferred to exile myself from everyone than to let them know how truly vulnerable and pathetic I was.
I spent so many years striving for perfection and I’m still a fucking relentless overachiever. It’s just who I am. If I stop moving I die. But now, with years of therapy and doing the work to not only understand my disease but myself, I will never silently suffer again and I don’t want that for my daughters either. I never want them to feel that alone and afraid to live.
So how do I protect my mental health while taking care of everyone else? I have to be vigilant that I take care of myself first or I won’t be able to take care of anyone else. I know from a mom’s perspective, it sounds very selfish but it’s not. It is giving myself permission to heal so that I can help the people I love the most heal and get the help they need with my full support.
Give Yourself a Time-Out (But Actually Take It)
We’re all great at putting the kids in time-out when they need a breather, but how often do we do that for ourselves? Next time you feel the storm brewing – whether it’s a panic attack on the horizon or just a gnawing sense that you’re about to lose your sh*t – actually take a damn time-out for yourself. Lock yourself in the bathroom if you have to. Light a scented candle, hydrate, breathe deeply, and reconnect with yourself for a few sacred minutes.
Shamelessly Indulge in Your Vices Within reason, of course.
We all need small reprieves that are entirely our own – tiny pit stops of peace along this relentless race of motherhood. Maybe it’s those cigarettes you promised you’d quit, or a generous pour of red wine after the kids are in bed. Maybe it’s zoning out to trashy reality TV or snacking on the kids’ hidden stash of Halloween candy. Whatever your vice may be, indulge in it shamelessly and without guilt. You’re doing important work. You’ve earned it.
Outsource Your Overwhelm
Listen, you superwoman – there’s no award for doing it all yourself. Our villages have disbanded and the weight of everything has fallen on our overburdened mom-shoulders. So pay someone to clean your house for a few hours every week. Order meal delivery kits. Hire a college kid to mow the lawn. Get a damn robot vacuum, for Christ’s sake. Shed. That. Overwhelm. You’re a mom, not a martyr.
Reclaim Your Identity
When you became a mom, you were first reborn. Now it’s time to rediscover the human behind the caretaker. Schedule monthly mani/pedis or weekend trips with your girlfriends. Sign up for a painting or dance class for absolutely no reason other than you think it might be fun. Read books unrelated to parenting. Reminding yourself of the person you were before babies can be a balm for the soul.
Schedule Some “Me Time”
When you’re taking care of everyone and everything else, this can definitely seem like a long shot, right? But at the end of the day, you’re living your life, and that means you still have to take care of yourself. Something that might even mean putting everyone and everything else on the back burner for a bit so you can take care of yourself. After all, if you can’t take care of yourself, how can you take care of others?
But self-care means taking time to do what you want, Me Time- the time that moms almost never seem to get. Honestly, it can be whatever you want at whatever pace you want to. For example, if you want something intense like tennis, go for it; if you want something more relaxing like a digital crossword puzzle, then by all means, go for that!
You deserve to define your ‘me time” however you want. But you can’t neglect this either. You can only get yourself together if you let yourself have a break, your body and your mind needs this.
And a final word to all you fierce mamas out there: Put on your own oxygen mask first. Your mental health is precious cargo – without it, you can’t fully show up for those you love most. So prioritize your self-care. I’ll say it louder for the martyr moms in the back: You must prioritize your self-care! This isn’t just a friendly reminder, it’s an order from your resident Truth-Telling Mom. Now, share the hell out of this thing and tag a few mom friends who need to hear it!
2022/05/12
Our Disney Origin Story and Why I’m Applying to the PlanDisney Panel

Estimated reading time: 9 minutes
I just applied to the planDisney panel. This is something I’ve done annually for the past few years. I’ve made it to round 3 in the past but I’ve never gone all the way. But here I am again, applying with the hope that this is the year. I don’t give up. Why do I keep trying you may be asking? Here is our Disney origin story and why I’m applying to the planDisney panel.
Well, I LOVE Disney. Like truly, maybe too much, genuinely love Walt Disney World and Disney Studios and everything Disney. It has been a HUGE part of my happily ever after. You see, on my very first trip (I was a poor kid so I didn’t get to make these magical memories as a child. Disney was the dream but I knew it was something I’d have to take the initiative to attain on my own) was for our honeymoon. I’m sure I’ve shared this story here before in some capacity but here it goes again.
This is our Disney origin story
I met the Big Guy in college. He comes from a perfectly nice, middle-class American family from the suburbs. They did things like travel to Disney World and stay at the Grand Floridian. His grandmother traveled the world and went on African Safaris, danced the tango in Spain and had roots in the Black Forest. I was what they affectionately refer to as a “region rat” (IYKYK). Yes, we’re everywhere. I even met a fellow Region Rat working at the Yacht Club and hey, Bob Chapek is one too so don’t turn your nose up at the region. My point is that I’m a first-generation freckled Mexibilly from the Chicagoland area who grew up in an urban area surrounded by fellow minorities and was raised by two Catholic parents (6 kids) and one factory worker’s blue-collar salary. All of our “vacation” money went to travel to see our grandparents in Tennessee and Mexico. No matter how much we wished for Disney, it was not feasible for us.
So I met this cute, funny, tall, smart guy from the suburbs and he had this very normal, idyllic childhood and when we got married he only had 3 requests.
1) we walk into the reception to the Star Wars theme
2) he either got to lick my face at the altar (instead of the proposed demure, closed-mouth kiss in front of 300 of our closest family and friends at our high noon full wedding mass or he got to shove my wedding cake into my face Mexican style (both of which I was vehemently opposed). I ultimately chose to sacrifice our first Mr. and Mrs. kiss in lieu of a face full of cake.
3) This was his number 1 request; we honeymoon at Walt Disney World.
Everything else was my fairy tale wedding.
Not going to lie, I was not thrilled at the idea of spending my honeymoon running around a theme park. This is not how I expected our Disney origin story began. I wanted either Europe or a tropical island somewhere filled with lazy days on the beach frolicking in the sand while sipping mojitos with my beloved but the Big Guy wanted to share the world with me, via a mouse. I was super in love and totally agreed because it didn’t matter where we went, as long as we were together.
Long story slightly shorter (it’s not lost on me that it’s still pretty damn long and I’m not even halfway through), everything was club level, 5–star and surprisingly romantic. YES, holding hands, walking on white sand beaches, kissing under the stars, watching fireworks wrapped in his arms and sipping champagne and eating dessert like calories didn’t exist. It felt like everything I ever wanted on my honeymoon, even if it didn’t look like it. In those 8 days, I grew closer and fell deeper in love with the Big Guy as he shared his magical place with me. Even though there were thousands of people around, it felt intimate and special like it existed just for the two of us. In those moments, Walt Disney World became “our magical place” and I wanted that magic to last forever so we went back every chance we got (get). This is one of the reasons why I’m applying to the planDIsney panel.
We ended up being “those” people. The obnoxious people who couldn’t stop touting the wonders and magic of WDW. We tried to convince everyone we knew that they needed to go because, we believe, everyone does need to go and often. Who doesn’t want magic and happiness in their life? We’d go with friends. We’d go ourselves. We didn’t care, it just made us feel happy every single time. That’s part of the magic, the nostalgia of feeling like you’re 4 years old and there’s not a worry in the world. It’s just pure, unadulterated joy…unless you let it stress you out and overwhelm you, in which case, some of the magic is dulled. Just go there with a tentative plan and an open heart and mind and you will not be disappointed. If you’ve been, you know.
Fast forward a few years (and all of our friends and family coming to us for insider tips on planning their Disney trips) and we expanded the Disney lovers club by 2 (our two daughters, Bella and Gabs). We’d been in our twenties, we’d been with friends and family, we’d stayed at all levels of resorts, all times of the year on all different kinds of budgets and every single trip was different. WDW is 1000% a choose-your-own-adventure and every single trip is sprinkled with its own kind of pixie dust and filled with a different kind of magic.
Then we went as parents and I’m not sure how but somehow, the magic was even greater experiencing it through the eyes of our two favorite human beings. Our first trip as a family of four was when the girls were 3 and 5 years old and my heart swelled up so big that I was sure I would die from happiness.
That trip was full of oohs and aahs and wonder, the kind that can only be experienced from the princess chair revealed from Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique. If you’ve ever gotten to see your child’s face when that happens, you know that it is a feeling beyond words and unlike anything else. It is palpable joy. And that was it for us. We’ve gone every year since, sometimes twice.
The girls are teenagers now. Bella’s about to go away to college next year and her biggest dream is to join the Disney College Program and eventually, become a Disney imaginer. That’s her dream. She wants to be a part of the magic for other families and I get it.
Our family of four has always been one that does everything together. That’s one thing our two very different families did the same. We eat our meals together, we travel together and we share our good times, our bad times and our magical times.
Love is like that; someone to share everything with. Disney puts an exclamation point on the love and togetherness for us and I suspect, it always will.
This is our Disney origin story and why I’m applying to the planDisney panel.
2022/09/12
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
How to Afford the Superstar Education Your Child Deserves
This is part of a sponsored campaign with DiMe Media and Coca-Cola but all opinions expressed about how to pay for college are my own.
I grew up working class to parents who only graduated high school. My father was a blue-collar worker in a factory and my mom stayed at home and took care of the six of us children. My grandparents were the same, only my grandfather farmed. Bottom line was that I come from a long line of people who work really hard because it was the only choice they had. My parents wanted better for their children.
I was taught from a very early age that education was the ticket to a new life. If I got a good education and worked really hard, I could have anything I wanted. I could be anyone I wanted. Live anywhere I wanted. I could do anything I wanted, if I were willing to pay the price in determination, dedication and hard work. I was never told there was another option so from the time I could remember; I worked to do my best in school. It wasn’t just about me. I was the hope for better from my parents and I was the example for my younger siblings.
This lesson was drilled into my head. I’d get A’s my dad would ask, “Why are these not A+ s?” I never felt that I could do enough but going to college was the end goal because it was the means to better. Failure was not an option. The only option I was given was to work hard and to do it. I lived my life on a mission to excel. This is what my parents wanted and it was my duty to succeed for all of us.
Now, mind you, there was never any plan in action to help me pay for this journey. They expected me to go to college but they had no intention or idea of how to pay for it. It was all up to me. I won’t lie, it was hard. I felt like I had worked hard to get the grades, I should have gotten some help when it came time to pay for university but sometimes what we expect and what we get are not the same so I had to figure it out, on my own.
I did figure it out. I applied for financial aid, I took out loans and I even did work study in my dorm’s cafeteria freshman year even thought he smell of food repulsed me. It was what I needed to do to cobble together the funds for tuition. Over the years, I would take a semester off here or there to work at odd jobs and save the money. Finally, after 8 years, I graduated with a whole lot of debt. I want better for my girls.
My girls know that I expect them to go to college. They know how important an education is in this world. It is their part of the bargain to get the grades to be accepted. It is our job as parents to help them and guide them through the financial aid process, scholarship application process and if need be take out loans for them. My goal is for them to focus on school and for us to help them succeeded in college while accruing the least amount of debt. I don’t want them leaving college with a huge financial burden hanging over their heads. I am still paying on my graduate degree loans. There has to be a better way. We have to equip our children not only with the desire to succeed but the means to get there or we are just setting them up for failure, disappointment and heartache.
This year, Coca-Cola is partnering with the Hispanic Scholarship Fund to help Hispanic families achieve their college dreams and aspirations, as part of the #ForTheDream Hispanic Education Program and the #ForTheDreamSweeps sweepstakes.
The purpose of Coca-Cola’s #ForTheDream program is to inspire and empower Latino teens and their families to prepare, plan and pay for their college education. Something I wish I had in my toolbox when I was preparing to go to university.
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Coca-Cola is donating $100,000 to the Hispanic Scholarship Fund. To help raise additional money toward the Hispanic Scholarship Fund, Coca-Cola is donating $1 for every social media post with the hashtag #ForTheDream, up to $10,000.
Financial pressure is the number one reason that Latino youth do not attend college. As a community supporter and partner of the Hispanic Scholarship Fund, Coca-Cola’s #ForTheDream program is helping provide Hispanic families with the resources needed to attend a college preparatory boarding school and achieve a higher education.
Coca-Cola understands the importance Latino families place on education, and wants to provide them with the opportunity to achieve their educational goals and become future leaders. The For The Dream program has a sweepstakes component, #ForTheDreamSweeps, in which Coca-Cola is awarding one College Tour Experience and 34 x $500 grants to cover education expenses. For more details about how to get your teens ready for college you can visit the For the Dream microsite. To enter simply share a photo and Tweet or post about why education matters for our youth and community or how your family pushed you to pursue your education.
I will be giving away a Coca-Cola prize pack to one lucky reader. Winner will be chosen on August 4^th. The prize will include a fun Coca-Cola-themed Summer Prize pack that features a logo cooler bag, sunglasses, Mason jar tumbler and a visor.To enter simply leave a comment below telling me why you think an education is so important?
How will you teach your child how to pay for college?
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2015/07/30
This is the Part I Hate
Leaving my children behind when I travel is the hardest thing I do. I travel and I love it. I travel a lot with my kids and the Big Guy. I traveled a lot before I had children. I was born with an insatiable wanderlust and it always begs for more. I don’t se it ever being satisfied. There is an ever growing bucket list of travel destinations because any place can be an adventure if you’re open to it.
Before I had my girls, I had specifically chosen a career path that would allow me the freedom to travel the world. I wanted to see the whole thing; every nook and cranny and hidden treasure of a culture. I still do; now, I just want to do it with my family.
Right now, as I type this, I’m watching the sun come up from 13000 feet. The view is spectacular. I only wish my daughters were here to see it with me. But they were left behind on this trip. Sometimes, we moms have to travel the road less traveled alone and that’s good because it allows us to grow and be better for our children.
I’m headed to New York City this morning. It’s my first trip there, which is ironic because this was the place I’d decided to call home so many years ago. But it wasn’t meant to be. Before my life plan could come together, I met the man I would marry and life took us in other directions, as life often does.
Still, here I am, like Icarus flying too close to the sun, heading for the missed opportunity trying my best to keep my hubris in check. I’m headed to BlogHer 2015. I haven’t been in a couple years but it seems kismet that I would find myself headed to my original destination with a plethora of opportunities before me on this sunny July morning.
We just returned from a family road trip on the east coast in Ogunquit, Maine. It was magical and more relaxing than any vacation I’ve ever had. My girls are turning into quite the junior travelers. I can see in them that the wanderlust is strong and that makes me happy. They are miniature foodies with an insatiable desire to know all the places of the world; to speak the language, eat the food and live amongst the people. This is my legacy.
Of course, this is the part I hate… Leaving them behind when I go on my travels. Since becoming a mother, the world is so much more wonderful and exciting through their eyes. Everything is new and wondrous to them and in so, born again in mine.
When I leave on a trip, we all feel a little sad about the separation. They miss me and I miss them but while I’m in Manhattan hugging necks and chasing dreams they will be with me like a couple tiny handprints on my heart. I hate to leave them but there is something absolutely magical about knowing that I get to return home to all that love.
What is your favorite travel destination to visit without children?
2015/07/15
Nutrisystem Week 10 update~ When Logic Meets Reality

It’s week 10 and I am down another pound.This pound brings my grand total this far to 15 pounds. I have started a new regime of doing Zumba every morning before I get the girls up for school. It is exhausting and takes a lot of effort on my part but I have to admit, I feel fabulous getting it done first thing in the morning. It gets my day started off on a nice positive note. I know this may sound cheezy but it feels like it somewhat centers me for the day. I’ve only been doing this routine for going on a week and a half but I think it’s going to make a difference going forward. I started by doing 20 minute express Zumba but this week have started doing the 50 minute Zumba party.It flies by. I feel great and can’t wait to see the effects of introducing regular exercise into the routine.
I thought I’d share a little more about some of my favorite Nutrisystem foods this week. This week I am going to tell you about my favorite desserts! My favorite Nutrisystem Select frozen dessert is definitively the Creamy Fudge Bar.It’s thick and creamy and tastes delicious.It’s ice cream…on a diet..but doesn’t taste like diet food.

My favorite shelf stable dessert is, hands down, the fudge brownie. This little dessert is fabulous. I take it, pop it in the microwave for about 13 seconds, cover it with sliced strawberries, and then kiss it will a dollop of cool whip. It is so fantastic, that my kids regularly try to pilferage it off my plate. Sometimes after a rough day, you might want a little piece of heaven to enjoy and what’s better than eating something that taste’s great and is not going to sky rocket your calories and leave you feeling guilty.
Those are my 2 favorite desserts of the week. Next week, I’ll give you the inside scoop on my favorite dinners. You won’t believe what I get to eat. But since I am telling you how great the food tastes, I should also explain the program to you a little. So, here we go.
The Science Behind Nutrisystem
So, what’s the Nutrisystem secret? Simple—they’ve got science on their side. Nutrisystem is based on the proven science of the Glycemic Index, and eating low-GI meals 5 to 6 times a day helps keep your blood sugar and metabolism stable, so your body burns calories more effectively.
Plus, they’ve found a way to make dieting doable by providing consumers with the foods we love-minus the guilt. ( BONUS! Who doesn’t want to eat yummy food that’s good for you?)
Everybody’s favorites like Lasagna, Pizza, and chocolate are given a good-for-you spin with fiber, protein and good carbs to help control cravings and keep you feeling satisfied, then packaged into just the right portion sizes so you never go overboard.
It’s a complete, balanced approach to losing weight and living healthier. It’s such a simple concept, why haven’t I figured this out sooner:) It’s like a light bulb went off and logic and reality walked in the room. I say,”Welcome.Come on in and stay awhile.I’ve been waiting for you, my entire grown up life.”
In addition, the support and the encouragement that I’ve received from the Nutrisystem staff has been amazing! I believe that the hardest thing about a weight loss program is sticking to it. We get caught up in the minutia of our day to day and we lose sight of our goals. We fall off the diet wagon and if no ones around to help us up or cheer us on, it becomes really easy to just say “I’ll do it tomorrow” or “I’ll start on Monday”. I’m here to tell you that tomorrow is today! Nutrisystem is so much more than just a company or a diet program, it’s a family. I’ve made invaluable friendships through the Nutrisystem Nation program and gained support from the staff that have aided me with my weight loss. We are all working towards one common goal; to lose weight, and to finally feel comfortable in our own skins again!We can do this and so can you!
How many of you have made losing weight a New Year resolution? How’s it going? What program are you doing? What exercise are you employing to hit your goals? I’d love to hear from all of you.
Don’t forget Hooray YOU! This is the year you start your NEW YOU Revolution! and become the you that you want to be.
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
2011/01/13
NO texting while driving for me…anymore!
Tonight, I settled into my Sunday evening quiet by turning on the television and mindlessly flipping the dial. I stopped on Extreme Makeover. I NEVER stop on Extreme Makeover, mostly because at some point in the show I will end up crying. Sunday’s are usually bad for me anyway so I figure why add fuel to the fire. But tonight, something was different…Extreme Makeover was calling to me.
Photo courtesy of Google image
The show tonight was about the Brown family. The day was like any other day. Alex Brown’s father, Johnny Mack, gave her a kiss on the forehead before he left for work and told her to be good, something I’ve seen the Big Guy do a million times with our own girls. Something, most of us do an a daily basis. We take a deep breath, kiss those little loves of our lives Goodbye for now and go out into the world or send them out into the world. Only that day, in November of 2009, was not like any other day, it would turn out to be the worst day of the Brown family’s life. That was the day that Jeanne and Johnny Mack Brown lost their daughter, Alex, a senior in high school, got into a 18-wheeler accident.
Katrina, her sister, lost her big sister and mentor in life. While driving to school, Alex was texting, she was distracted, lost control of her vehicle and rolled her pick up truck according to what the truck accident attorney mentioned.
This beautiful promising life, about to go off to college and make a difference in the world, was crudely ejected from the vehicle through the windshield, only to have her truck roll on top of her, crushing her and ultimately causing injuries that proved fatal. People who have miraculously survived tragic accidents like this but are unfortunately and severely disabled can seek the legal assistance of social security attorneys in order to have the compensation that they need especially for the medical expenses.
I can not even imagine the pain and loss Jeanne and Johnny Mack Brown feel on a daily basis. To honor her memory, they spend all their free time traveling to area high schools showing Alex’s rolled truck to other students to demonstrate the possible dangers of texting while driving, spreading the message as far as their funds and abilities will let them.
They have made it their life’s mission to stop other families from suffering such a great loss by giving advice to other with the help of indianapolis truck accident lawyer.
Now, I’m not going to lie..I am a drive and text sort of person. ( Well, I was… up until tonight). I know it’s wrong. I know it’s dangerous and could lead to car accidents. Yet, I find myself doing it constantly. But tonight, when I watched this episode, it hit me…what if I were texting and my girls were in the car ( as they usually are)? I could wreck and kill them. KILL THEM! Let that sink in for a moment. Obviously, I don’t want to die but I can’t live with the possibility of putting my littles in danger. Not to mention what a horrible example I am setting for them. Let’s say for a minute that I am the exception and I’m lucky enough to avoid any disasters but one day, in the not so distant future, Bella or Gabs could get into a vehicle and mimic just what they’ve seen their Mommy doing…texting while driving. God forbid they get into an accident themselves and, or worse still, die. So, tonight, I went to the Remember Alex Brown website and I signed the pledge. I know this sounds hokey and out of character for me. I know I am snarktastic and have mocked Oprah for her pledge against this very thing. But I am big enough to admit when I have been wrong. It just took me a bit to see the error of my ways. I’ve decided that I refuse to put my children in that kind of danger, my family through that kind of pain or have any part in perpetuating this behavior in my children’s lives. I signed the pledge and I WILL NOT text while driving…ever again. I also what you to learn this here now that you can still file a claim on an accident that you were partially at fault in. I hope that you will take this pledge with me. I don’t really care if you electronically sign a pledge to a foundation, but I ‘d like you all to commit to not texting while driving. Think of yourself..think of your children! The life you may be saving by NOT texting while driving…may be the one that you helped to bring into this world.
2011/01/30