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  • This Blogger’s Life…Cecily Kellogg

    This Blogger’s Life…Cecily Kellogg

    Today, I am honored to welcome a woman who needs no introduction and is a force to be reckoned with in the blogging community, Cecily Kellogg to This Blogger’s Life.

    I have “known” Cecily for a few years now but finally had the pleasure of meeting her last year at BlogHer. When I met her I found her to be more beautiful in person than she appears online ( that sounds wrong but what I mean is that she is such a vibrant woman and I don’t feel that comes across fully online) and she is one of the kindest and most down to earth people I’ve ever met. She greeted me with a hug and felt like an old friend almost immediately.

    I’ve always enjoyed reading UpperCase Woman for the transparency of her words and she’s always writing about what’s new and changing on the Internet.  Cecily is a kind soul whose words have weight. She is a doer in the world. She sees something wrong, she puts her back into it and she tries to make a difference. I love that about her.

    Cecily is truly one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. You can follow her on Twitter and Facebook. She looks hardcore like she could kick your ass ( and she probably could if you got on her bad side) but I think you’d be hard pressed to find someone nicer.

    I’m honored to call Cecily Kellogg my friend and it’s my privilege to have her on This Blogger’s Life today.

    This Blogger’s Life…Cecily Kellogg

    Cecily Kellogg, UpperCase Woman, DoubleGood Media, This Blogger's Life, the people behind the blogs, blogging

    Why did you start blogging?

     

    In 2003 I was desperately trying to get pregnant and couldn’t. Someone on a fertility message board

    linked to a handful of blogs and I finally found my tribe. I devoured those blogs and the blogs they all

    linked to, and by March of 2004 I started blogging myself.

     

    What’s one piece of advice that you would give to a new blogger?

     

    Don’t blog about deeply personal things if you’re a sensitive person. I’m sensitive – even hypersensitive

    – and my own psychological makeup means I don’t have many tools for creating barriers between what

    people say about me and how I react to them, although I am working on it (part of this is also because I’m

    an alcoholic; we tend to take everything very personally).

     

    What are the three words that describe you best?

     

    Loud, funny, and sensitive.

     

    What is your favorite website?

     

    Oh god, just one? I couldn’t possibly begin to narrow that down. I mean, I live online. It’s like asking

    someone what their favorite song is. From what decade? In what genre? I utilize so many for my life and

    work I can’t imagine picking one. They are all just tools for doing what I do.

     

    What is your favorite thing to do when you’re not blogging?

     

    Cuddling with my daughter, or hiking.

     

    What’s the most important thing you’ve learned about yourself from blogging?

     

    That I am a great writer.

     

    How do you balance life and blogging?

     

    I actually just read a really good article about this idea of balance that we’re constantly told to strive for.

    I no longer believe in balance. I just do what needs doing and try to make sure I take time to eat well,

    exercise, and be with my family – but sometimes that has to all go by the wayside to get the work done I

    need to do to support my family.

     

    How has blogging changed you or your life?

     

    Everything in my life today is because of blogging. While I do have some good hardcore pre-internet

    friends in my life, and some great connections with my daughter’s school families, most of my closest

    friends are people I’ve met through blogging. It also completely changed my career – not always in the

    best ways – and now I run a boutique content marketing agency that serves a very particular niche. While

    I’ve struggled as a personal blogger – I recently closed comments on posts because of the chronic abuse

    I received from a group of folks – it’s like breathing for me. I can’t imagine life without it.

     

    What do you think makes a successful blog? A great blog? Are they one in the same?

     

    In the decade I’ve been blogging, that has changed so much. I think a great blog requires all of the

    following: excellent writing, great story telling, and a beautiful and user friendly responsive design. It

    doesn’t matter what niche the blog falls in, if it has those components it can be a great blog. The blogs I

    read the most, however, are either industry blogs about tech/content/social media or are the old-school

    blogs written in memoir style that share way too much information and make me fall in love with the story.

     

    If you were to stop blogging today, what would you do with the rest of your life?

     

    I’ve thought about this so much, and in fact, have set up my life so that I can walk away from blogging if I

    need to do so. I’d continue working in online content, just from a business perspective instead of personal

    one (which is about 80% of the work I do already). I’d probably expand deeper into marketing work as

    well. And I’d finally write that damn book.

     

    How do you balance telling your story, without telling the story of others in your life?

     

    Ah, the big question. I’ve learned the hard way that sometimes other people don’t want to star in your

    story. It’s an awkward dance, of course, because my family is part of my story daily. For instance, I often

    write about my father abandoning me as a baby because it has impacted my life in so many ways, but it

    can be hard for my siblings to hear how I feel about him. I’ve taken posts down at their request. But the

    biggest change, of course, is that my daughter is now eight and reads my blog now and then and I need

    to bear that in mind when I write about her. She approves every post where I speak only about her, and

    any photos I post of her. Eventually, I imagine, I won’t be able to write about her at all, and that’s okay.

    I’m not a mommy blogger anyway.

     

    Blogging has changed a lot, just since I started 5 years ago, what do you miss about blogging in

    the early days? What do you love that has changed?

     

    Blogging wasn’t competitive in the early days. It was, really and truly, about community and supporting

    each other. But even so, it was plagued with personalities. I had a huge falling out with another infertility

    blogger after I lost my twins around early 2005, and it was rough and divided our community for a while.

    While today the competitiveness is mostly around the “fame” and the money, it was there even back then.

    I will say that in general the level of vitriol on the web has gotten so, so much worse. That’s the worst

    thing by far. Blogging is rather terrifying now; I’ve been threatened with everything from violent rape to

    being reported to children’s services and more. Without careful monitoring of what I view online, I would

    see non-stop messages about how awful I am. It’s fucking exhausting.

    However, the good part is still the community. I have gotten to know so many amazing people through

    blogging. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

     

    How do you consistently come up with relevant and shareable content?

     

    Well, I obviously find myself fascinating as that is what I generally write about. But I also write about

    elements of politics and culture too.

     

    If you could have a dinner party for 6 people, living or dead, who would you invite?

     

    Honestly? I could list amazing historical figures I’d love to meet, but I’d really rather just have a dinner

    party with my “sister wives”, or my closest girlfriends.

     

    What’s the one thing that people would be surprised to learn about you?

     

    I’m not tough, not even a little. Also, I’m very short and I’m much fatter than I look in my gorgeous avatar

    photos.

     

    What’s the one post that you are most proud of?

     

    This one: https://uppercasewoman.com/2007/04/19/health_vs_life_/

     

    Cecily, I know that you are super busy and I really appreciate you taking the time to let me interview you. Thank you for sharing your stories, no holds barred. It was my pleasure to have you on This Blogger’s Life.  xoxo

  • Be a better parent – Day 26 – How to say sorry

    Yesterday’s Be a Better Parent Challenge – Day 25 – Get Some Sleep
    was pretty easy , for once, to adhere to. The girls have been going to bed at 6 pm on school days. It rocks and is amazing ( remember just a few months a ago I was telling you of the bed time trauma). Of course, going to bed early for me is midnight. But midnight is awesome when you are used to going to bed at 2 am. It’s also amazing what a difference actually relaxing before bed makes in your restfulness.Hope you all got some extra sleep. When my girls were younger and full on bedtime crackheads, I would just go to bed with them. I had absolutely NO LIFE, but I got some sleep albeit if my bedtime was 9 pm. (more…)

  • Throat Punch Thursday ~ Dr.Oz of Arsenic and Apple Juice

    Throat Punch Thursday ~ Dr.Oz of Arsenic and Apple Juice

    Throat Punch Thursday~Dr.Oz, Arsenic, Apple Juice

    Arsenic is harmless?

    Dr.Oz of Arsenic and Apple Juice~ I won’t lie, I was a little disturbed when I heard the report last month about Mott’s apple juice and it’s high amounts of arsenic. Arsenic?? Yes, I know, like everybody else who’s ever taken a science class in elementary school, that apple seeds have arsenic in them. I know this.I try to be a good crunchy mom. I guess, when it came to giving my girls apple juice, organic all natural APPLE JUICE, I was so worried about pesticides and hormones that I completely forgot about the effing arsenic inside the damn apple. You know the apple that they use to make the apple juice. Arsenic, you sneaky little bastard.

    When Dr. Oz televised his findings of arsenic in apple juice, I was not fear mongered into being cautious, I was reminded once again to put cut back apple juice on the list. One more thing for that neverending list. People are all pissed and bent out of shape, making Dr OZ the villain because they don’t want to hear what he’s saying. I know we’ve all been giving our kids copious amounts of apple juice in those damn sippy cups. Let’s be real, Organic milk is expensive and it spoils a hell of a lot faster in the hot sun in those sippy cups than any arsenic ridden apple juice. We didn’t know any better. We gave our kids apple juice because we thought it was healthier than the Kool-Aid and Tang we were given as kids. NO? Was that just my house?

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    Dr.Oz, Apple juice, Arsenic
    Deborah L.Rothenberg

    Poor Dr.Oz nobody likes the Arsenic Police

    Problem is that we don’t really hate Dr. oz for sharing his findings. He just happens to be the messenger bringing the bad news and well, we all know what happens to the messenger. The argument is that arsenic in small doses ( those allowed by the FDA, who by the way probably doesn’t allow their own children to drink the apple juice..I’m just sayin’) is not harmful. Dr.Oz argues that we don’t know the long term effects of this higher dose of  arsenic. I say, at what level is giving poison to your child acceptable? I think most of you would agree that the correct answer is NONE! What next , will the out of control Dr.Besser show up and tell me red-faced that arsenic is harmless? Oh yeah? Dr.Besser how much rat poisoning is safe for human consumption? Ridiculous? Exactly, my point!

    Throat punch goes to anyone who tries to tell me that ANY amount of arsenic is healthy for my girls to drink. It may be harmless but it may be poisonous. Either way, I don’t want to take the gamble on arsenic when the cost is my girls’ health. I know that it seems that nowadays everything has some sort of carcinogen, poison, pesticide, hormone, antibiotic, or poison in it or maybe we just never saw the arsenic on the label because we were too busy throwing stones at the fear mongering messenger. What are your thoughts on the arsenic in apple juice dilemma? Is this study ( or just the reminder of the topic) enough to scare you straight on the arsenic and apple juice situation? Will you be thinking twice before filling your baby’s sippy cup with arsenic apple juice next time? I know I will. Or do you agree with Dr.Besser that arsenic is harmless in small doses?

    Just Say no to Arsenic in your baby’s apple juice

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  • The Holiday Spirit or lack Thereof ~ How the Grinch Almost Stole Mommy Revisited

    The Holiday Spirit or lack Thereof ~ How the Grinch Almost Stole Mommy Revisited

    I feel like the Grinch~ This is a post I wrote last year at about this same time and I realized that the same thing is happening again. I’m just recognizing it earlier in the holiday season. I don’t want to be this person who is wound so tight at the holidays that she pops out of her face like a jack in the box at the drop of a hat. This post is a good reminder to stop, breathe and try something different. I think we’ve all had our holiday Grinch moments. Let’s not the Grinch steal our children’s holiday memories or their holiday Mommy.

    The holidays for me are usually all warmth and fuzziness, mostly. Don’t get me wrong they are chocked full of craziness but right underneath the surface of all the chaos, complete happiness is bubbling its way to the surface and about to spill over. But for some reason, this year things feel… off. It all looks great on paper, we are doing all the things that should be done to make wonderful memories for our girls but for some reason, I don’t feel like my heart is in it. I don’t feel the bubbly goodness rising to the top as it should be this far into December.

    Grinch, Christmas, parenthood, stress, holidays

    Grinch, We Don’t Need no Stinkin Grinch

     

    Grinch, Christmas, parenthood, stress, holidays

    Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am watching the finances closely since this year has been full of new jobs, relocations and maintaining separate households, which is nothing to speak of the fact that our whole life has been suspended and not quite right with the Big Guy not living here. Maybe my lack of enthusiasm has something to do with being overwhelmed by the to do lists and not enough time to accomplish the tasks at hand. I have been buried under snow for most of December and there’s been no time for shopping, baking, enjoying. Its been a series of appointments and dates. Truly, I feel like my girls are being jipped out of their Christmas. I’ve been so  caught up in all the obligations that I’ve been snapping at my girls and firing snark from my mouth like an AK-47.I know on more than one occasion, lately, I’ve given them the “are you retarded?” look and may have even said something to that effect, but not quite as awful. But the sentiment was there and that is as guilty as saying the words themselves. Thoughts become words and words become actions.Well, even thinking that makes me a really horrible Grinch of a mother, in my book. I don’t want to be THAT person.I don’t want my girls to think it even fathomable that I could mean such awful words.The thought of them believing that I think they are anything less than amazing or that my love is conditional upon whether or not they are pleasing to me, makes me sick to my stomach.I want to be happy, excited and gay. I need to get my warm fuzziness boiling back over. I want to spread it all over my children like warm molasses.

    Grinch, Christmas, parenthood, stress, holidays

    Please Grinch Mommy,don’t take away their smiles

    Grinch, Christmas, parenthood, stress, holidays

    Christmas is not about things to do, places to be or presents to open; Christmas is about love, peace and people.I want my girls to look back on their childhood Christmases and remember the cuddles in front of the fire, spontaneous Christmas cookie baking, making fudge with Daddy, snowball fights, and watching Christmas Movies; staying up late to put cookies out for Santa and going to mass with the whole family.It’s firsts snows and snow angels.It’s togetherness.It’s a series of moments that form a lifetime. I want it to be a feeling in their heart.I want it to be the spirit of something larger than us; of hope, love and joy. I’m clearing out the clutter of my life and my mind and going forth, my only true obligation is going to be to see to it that my girls are happy.Everything else is secondary.

    Grinch, Christmas, parenthood, stress, holidays

    Christmas Memories Better when Mommies Not a Grinch

    Grinch, Christmas, parenthood, stress, holidays
    Fah who for-aze! Fah who for-aze!
    Dah who dor-aze! Dah who dor-aze!
    Welcome Christmas, Welcome Christmas,
    Come this way! Come this way!
    Bottom Line is this, we determine how/what our memories will be. We are the parents and it’s up to us make the most of our children’s memories. They won’t remember every single detail but they will remember the feelings associated with being loved unconditionally and all that it entails.
    I am laying out all the wisdom for the teens in my post High School Confidential at Aiming Low today.  Would love it if you would stop over there and share what vital piece of wisdom that you would impart on the teens of the world. Looking forward to hearing your advice.
    Also, how do you keep from becoming overwhelmed, exhausted and a Grinch at the holidays?
  • How to Teach Your Teen the Difference Between Love, Like and Infatuation

    How to Teach Your Teen the Difference Between Love, Like and Infatuation

    I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to explain sex to my girls but what about how to know the difference between love, like and infatuation? It’s actually a very important discussion to have with your kids but how many parents actually have it? I’ve decided that honesty is the best thing to do. I want open dialogues with them about everything.

    How many times have you been in love? Like really in love. I thought I was “in love” about 3 times before I actually was. You see, the problem was that I didn’t know what real love was so I kept thinking I was in love but really it was a crush, infatuation, and love but not true, unconditional, forever love. But each time it felt like “love” until I pulled my head out of the love fog and could see it for what it really was.

    There was lots of casual dating but each “love” was necessary for the learning curve. If I hadn’t experienced each time I thought I was “in love” I wouldn’t have had any barometer by which to measure when the real thing happened.

    Don’t get me wrong, they all had their purpose and I wouldn’t trade any of the experience. Our experiences make us into who we are and if it weren’t for all of those false love alarms, I never would have known when I stumbled backwards into a really good guy and a healthy relationship.

    What is the Difference between Love, Like and Infatuation?

    Remember when you were in high school, maybe even college, and you fell in love and it was all consuming and insatiable? It was all you could think about and all you cared about. Anytime day or night, all you wanted was to be with that other person. You would have crawled inside of that person and lived if it were possible. Making love was truly an other worldly experience. You could not satisfy your craving for that person.

    Remember those days when you were so in love that it hurt your stomach? When seeing that person was the most important part of your day? Remember thinking to yourself, or maybe even saying it out loud, I would die for you? And you meant it. If someone walked into the room and it came down to you and him, you would surely jump in front of that bullet because you loved him so hard that if he died life wouldn’t be worth living any ways, so why not sacrifice your life for his?

    Were we stupid? Or was our baby brains just too consumed and overwhelmed by feeling love for someone other than our parents and complicated by all of those hormones that we just couldn’t process it? We knew our parents loved us and they would take a bullet for us so isn’t it logical that we take a bullet for the person who we love beyond all reason and comprehension? I used to think so.

    I was one of “those” girls. I loved being in love. I loved loving someone and I loved the thought of someone loving me. Someone wanting me. Wanting to possess me. Someone not being able to live without me. It thrilled me. I believed that was the measure of true love. Someone willing to die for me. Anything less was bullshit. But as most teenagers, I was delusional. I saw undying devotion in the simplest of tasks. He pulled the chair out for me and cupped my face when he kissed me. He must love me. He surprised me with a single rose and my favorite candy at the drive-in, this must be “IT”. Wow, it’s easy to believe bullshit when you’ve never had the real thing, isn’t it?

    Anyways, that passion was electric. It was the kind of “love” that had you feeling manic all the time. Coming from an actual person diagnosed with bipolar, that is saying something. I lived in that high to the exclusion of all else. Nothing else mattered and that was the measure of “real love” to me, for a very long time. I thought if it wasn’t all consuming and in crisis and threatened, it couldn’t be the real thing because the real thing was messy and it f*cked you both up beyond all recognition because that passion fire burns hot and high and hard, all.the.time. What I didn’t realize it that it burns out and leaves you both in a pile of ashes. If it was really  intense, it could almost kill you both. But, adult me realizes that is crazy. I don’t want love that kills me. That’s poison.

    I learned to live on that high. I craved it as much as I craved love. Then I fell in real love and I realized what I was doing up until then, was accepting what I had been taught to believe was love from the dysfunctional example of my parents and from movies. I believed that for it to be “love” it had to be “go hard or go home” at all times because love is work and if you love someone, you have to be willing to love them so hard that it might kill them and you have to be willing to die for them. I was a child and when you are a child, the world works in absolutes but as I grew up, I realized that real love doesn’t live in absolutes. It thrives in the grey area.

    How important is it to distinguish the difference between love, like and infatuation?

    For me, it wasn’t about dying for someone or killing for them. It was about being willing to live for them. Not in the “everything I do is for you” way like in all of those sappy love songs that we swoon over when we are kids. I mean in the “I love you so much that I want as many days on this earth as I can get with you” way.  As a mother, it’s important to tell your precious daughters about dating guys so they can have a wonderful relationship.

    In the way that makes the stupid things you’re doing fall away and life get clear. When I met my husband, I was a hot mess, in every sense of the word. I wasn’t even living my own life. I was living other people’s expectations and I was basing my happiness on someone else. Then I met the Big Guy. He put me first (maybe for the first time I had ever been first in my life) and my thinking shifted. I no longer had to be on the defensive. I didn’t have to be the aggressor. I just had to be me.

    Suddenly, I didn’t want to throw up every morsel of food that went into my mouth. I wanted to live and my 10-year slow suicide by anorexia plan wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to live and I didn’t want him to know just how dysfunctional I really was. So, I started working towards getting better. I got help.

    He saw the messed up ugly side of me almost immediately. I was an undiagnosed manic bipolar, anorexic with body dysmorphia and a self-medicating drinking problem. I was fun, then I was raging, mean and completely irrational. It was pretty hard to hide from anyone who was paying attention.

    I had developed a bad habit of pushing anyone who wanted to get close to me away. I had long passed the wanting to crawl inside of someone phase. I was selfish and borderline and convinced that I was unlovable because up to that point, I had done everything right and none of it ever worked. I never passed quality control. I gave up and resigned myself to being detached. I basked in the position of being wanted, even if it was all surface.

    Then the Big Guy came along and while his initial intention was to purely to hook up. We ended up talking all night after a couple ghosting friends left me stranded at a party at his house. Somewhere between our first disinterested meeting and that next morning, we connected on a cellular level without even trying. In that moment, we became each other’s person.

    It wasn’t love at first sight. I don’t even think we were each other’s types. We would have never even have met one another other than a new friend I had met in my LSAT class who happened to grow up with this tall, gangly alt guy with black fingernails and a heart only rivaled by the size of his smile. It took a couple more weeks before we worked out the kinks. Falling head over heels doesn’t feel like what you expect it to. It sort of sneaks up on you and you suddenly realize that this person gives you hope and loves you unconditionally, through the ugly and the hard and the messy and the complicated and they never think of leaving because it’s not an option that even enters their mind or yours. You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning. , kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.

    You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning, kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.

    Maybe real true love isn’t what they write about in the story books or songs. Maybe it is sometimes. I want my girls to know that love can look like a million different things. What’s important is how it makes you feel when you’re with that person. It isn’t big and bold, though sometimes it is, it’s also quiet and steady and safe. It’s feeling happy just being still and not needing an escape plan or contingency plan. It’s not about being willing to die for someone, it’s being willing to work your ass off to live as long as humanly possible to share every day with your best friend.

    The person you love as much as you love yourself. The person who gave you the children who you would take the bullet for because it’s the legacy of your love; the thing the 2 of you created. Real love is the kind that makes you want to risk everything to make the world better than you left it because it’s what he deserves. That’s love.

    The real difference between love, like and infatuation is that when you find real love…that person can satisfy all of those things; love, like and lust.

    How will you teach your kids to know the difference between love, like and infatuation?

  • The No Good, very bad , terribly horrible Monday

    I’ve never been a big believer in the whole I hate Monday’s credo. Alas, I have been made into a believer. I am actually usually pretty damn upbeat, if I do say so myself. But every once in awhile I get a really crappy day, in my normally pretty great existence. Today was that day, for a plethora of reasons. If you are not a fan of whiny, bitching and all around venting of a craptastic day…then please walk away. Hell run! I’ve got to vent. Today, there was no enjoying the small things. Today, it was all about how much crap can be dumped on me in one day.

    It all started last night ( yeah, Monday got a jump on me this week), this weekend we had to meet the Big Guy for a wedding. This resulted in us having to leave him, instead of the usual  him leaving us on the stoop. This totally sucked. After a great weekend of family togetherness, it really did make leaving each other that much more difficult. Before I pulled away, Bella started crying, “I don’t want to leave Daddy” then as the Big Guy was kissing Gabs goodbye, she had a meltdown and started blubbering “I don’t want to leave Daddy” Of course, Daddy is crying, then I am crying. I had to pull away. I could hardly see to drive through the tears. It was awful, the girls and I driving down the road looking like red spotted leopards from all the crying. Bedtime was  a nightmare because my exhausted, sad children were so upset when we got home. Add to that the fact that Bella had a slight fever.

    This morning, Bella was still running a fever along with a runny nose and cough so I kept her home from school ( just what we need..to all be sick). I let the girls sleep in until they woke sometime around 8:30. Then I set out to clean the house. Why is it when you travel the house seems look like it was hit by a tornado while you were gone. Who knows? Maybe my house was actually ransacked, since I was made aware when I returned home on Sunday night that I had left the sliding door..UNLOCKED the entire weekend while I was away! Yeah, that warranted a nice thorough check of the house..just in case some crazy was hiding around some corner. Awesome. Just what I needed with all the kid drama! Anyways, so today while the kids are home and I am cleaning. I was painfully aware that I had two things on my to do list that I was totally dreading 1) fighting with the cell phone company to see what it is going to cost to break a contract since my husband is now in an area where his phone is rendered useless due to their poor service ( NOPE, we can’t hear you now!!!) 2) I have to go over the finances to see what I can afford in the way of a car payment since my SUV decided to take a complete crap this past weekend!Yes, when it rains it pours!

    Needless to say the tornado disaster had hit every single room in the house and so it took almost the entire day to clean it to presentable. The kids were following behind me, dragging out dress up dresses and every single toy they could get their little hands on and pulling it to the living room. It was like fighting a losing battle. I never actually got to do my bills or call the cell phone company but the one time I did try to access the computer, I was lucky enough to upload my photos from the wedding we had attended over the weekend. You know the wedding where the girls danced with their Daddy and grandparents. The wedding where we, as a group, karaoked Friends in Low Places. The wedding that we had so much fun at on Saturday night, who knew could bring so much sorrow to my life on Monday morning. As the photos were downloading, I caught glimpse of the ones of us doing the karaoke. It was that time of night where the 5 inch hooker heels had come off, the hair looked like I had been partying a little too hard,the girls were trying to escape from my dress, my face looked a little ” dewy” from all the dancing and consumption of beverages, but the best part was that I looked about 11 months pregnant. Thank God I was holding a drink or someone might have asked me if I was pregnant…in which case I would have died of mortification! So the moral of the story is MONDAYS suck and never trust a dress that has any type of lycra/jersey mixture unless you are a waif or you will feel the shame of it the moment upon which you first set your eyes on any photos of the said offense. The no good, very bad, terribly horrible thing of it all is that for every picture I took at the wedding, the photographer took 5. So, for my mere 15 shots of me looking 13 months pregnant and drinking a cranberry and vodka, the photographer probably has a minimum of 75..and video! Yikes!!! Now, I must go, for I have a workout that needs to be done. This 17 month pregnant belly is not going to work itself off!Here’s hoping Tuesday is better!

  • Netflix Hit the Mark with Grace and Frankie

    Netflix Hit the Mark with Grace and Frankie

    I am a proud member of the Netflix #StreamTeam but all opinions and binge watching of Grace and Frankie were all my own.

    As many of you might have read, this month has been quite a bit of crazy. It was non-stop go-go-go until life intervened and brought it all to a screeching halt when life hit me right in the eye with a nasty infection  and no, that’s not a sexy euphemism for anything. At first, I was freaking out because I had so much to do and found myself completely out of commission. Add to that the antibiotics that had the side effect of not only destroying my digestive system but had the added effect of spontaneous narcolepsy. I guess it wasn’t too bad, especially since the vision in my left eye was blurry and I couldn’t work anyways because…you need sight to work on the Internet to see all the sees. I found myself partially blind and almost completely unplugged. It was like it was 1987.

    Anyways, I spent my week and a half laying on my couch contemplating my imminent demise, adapting to the new unimproved elephant man face that I was sure to be sporting for eternity and feeling sorry for myself so I did what anyone in my position would do, I binge watched Netflix with my one good eye, in between trips to the bathroom, crying and naps. I finished season one of Bloodline so I had to find something else to distract me.

    I kept thinking about my poor kids being known at school as the kids of the lady with the weird face. I felt like Gilbert Grape’s Mom. Then I started trying to rationalize the situation. Hey, there are kids with two mommies, two daddies, or a mommy, daddy and a step mommy and/or daddy. Some kids live with their grandparents and some live with aunts and uncles. My kids would just be the kids from the family with the super tall dad and the mom with the weird face who does that crazy thing “blogging” for a living. I needed to get out of my head so I searched for something to make me feel better. I needed something to put my “weird face” mom status in perspective. I need something to make me laugh, cry and get out of my own head.

    I found Grace and Frankie.

    Netflix’s new funny and fearless original comedy featuring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston, is a perfect example of how today’s families can shift, rearrange and blend in unexpected ways. When Grace and Frankie’s husbands, who are in their 70’s, leave them after 40+ years of marriage—to be with each other—the women find themselves facing a change that they never expected, especially at this point in their lives. But they shift their perspective to get through it together with the support of their new blended family and, of course, a wicked sense of humor.

    Grace and Frankie is a testament to women supporting women, sisterhood overcoming all the unexpected hardships, shifts and changes that life throws our way. Friends are what sustain us throughout life. It starts on the playground and goes on throughout our lifetimes. Shared experiences and memories only strengthen that bond.

    It is also a beautiful reminder that families come in all shapes, sizes, sexual preferences, colors and beliefs. Family are the people who stand beside you, love you and support you and that is all that matters. It’s more than blood and genetics, it’s love and friendship.

    Grace and Frankie had me laughing so hard and then crying the next. Life is beautiful and wonderful and unexpected. Life is messy and complicated and not usually what we planned for. In the end, we need to be happy and loved, the heart wants what the heart wants and the heart doesn’t adhere to social norms or expectations. Grace and Frankie is by far one of my favorite new shows on Netflix.

    I also found another brand new show that I’m hooked on, Between, which is Sci-Fi series starring Jennette McCurdy. A mysterious disease strikes a small town’s adult population in this tense-sci-fi drama. Pretty Lake’s teenagers think they have their futures in sight with college, the military and even motherhood. But suddenly the town’s grownups start dropping like flies from some unknown plague and the government quarantines the town. Survivors quickly realize that they are trapped, no one is allowed in or out and they are going to have to figure out how to survive on their own, with no adult supervision or guidance. I’ve only seen one episode because unlike most Netflix series, this series is weekly but from what I’ve seen totally worth it. And don’t forget, Orange is the New Black is back on June 12, 2015. I will definitely be watching, will you?

    What was your favorite show on Netflix this month?

    What did you think of Grace and Frankie?

  • Tired of Wating Around? 6 Benefits of Learning to Do it Yourself

    Tired of Wating Around? 6 Benefits of Learning to Do it Yourself

    Estimated reading time: 5 minutes

    I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand waiting around for other people to do things for me. I’m not sure if that’s the control freak in me, me being the oldest child of six, being a mom or my type-A personality poking through but whatever it is, I prefer to be able to do things for myself.  I love having people in my life that I can count on but I’m so independent that the occasion where I take advantage of having those people around, is few and far between. I pride myself on being capable, but I’m wise enough to also know my limitations.

    As a homeowner, I’ve come to realize that every home is full of unexpected costs even if it’s a new build. Things come up that slowly but surely drain your savings accounts and sometimes, feel like a never-ending to-do list of repairs, replacements, cleaning, and just about everything else you can think of. If you’re like me, you’re probably tired (maybe even a little annoyed) of waiting around for the “handyman” (the Big Guy) to be available to do the things you need done.

    Why keep waiting? If you’re reading this, you are a strong, capable woman who has probably grown and given birth to a human being, you can do hard things, Girl, you got this. Forget about waiting for someone else to do the things you want to be done. Learning to DIY is an excellent skill that means you never need to wait for someone else to do what needs to be done, ever again. You’re thinking, “But Debi if DIY is so simple, why isn’t everyone doing it?” Because some people prefer leaving things out of their wheelhouse to the professionals. I do too, in some instances. Let’s be honest, I can’t do everything.  But if I can do it right, I’m all about rolling up my sleeves and learning to do it myself. 

    No More Waiting Around 

    The best reason to learn to do it yourself is so you don’t have to wait around for someone else to do something you are completely capable of doing. You might be surprised at how many repairs around the house are actually pretty easy to fix, whether you need to replace door handles or fix the dryer heater element to make sure everyone’s clothes are ready in time for school or at the very least they don’t go sour. 

    By taking a proactive approach to your home, you can overcome small issues quickly. You won’t need to put your life on hold while you wait for the repair company to come over, which means you can get on with it yourself and focus on the next repair. 

    Save Money and Time 

    Since you’re not waiting around any longer, you can save time, even if it takes you a little longer to repair it than it would a professional. Everyone has been there before where the repair company comes in, twists a nut or bolt, and leaves. You don’t need to waste their time (or your money) anymore.

    This also makes saving money around the house so much easier. While some companies are happy to come out for free quotes, they will still charge you for the work and materials (especially with the price of gas right now) which is often much more than you’d have to pay if you did it yourself. 

    Learn a New Skill

    Learning a new skill is always a great way to boost your knowledge and help you feel better about yourself. With so many DIY tasks simpler than you think, it’s easy to expand your horizons. 

    What’s more, as a student for life I can attest to the fact that the more you learn, the easier it is to learn other things, too. You can use your existing repair knowledge to identify different ways to approach problems around the house and fix them without causing significant damage. 

    Pass the Knowledge onto Your Kids 

    Parents always need to teach their kids how to survive in the real world. I mean they don’t even offer home ec in school anymore. And let’s be honest, without that class, most Gen X latch key kids might have starved to death. What would I have done without learning how to cook an egg in a basket and how to stitch and make my very own pillow? While our kids may not need DIY skills or other essential life skills right now, they will once they move out of our house, whether they go to college or find a place of their own on the other side of the country. 

    Learning DIY skills gives you a great chance to pass your knowledge on to them. They don’t need to help you out all the time, but asking them to be your assistant and encouraging them to watch will give them the basic knowledge they need to approach DIY safely. They’ll know to switch the water off at the source while fixing pipes, and they’ll also know to turn off the mains so that they don’t electrocute themselves. They’ll also build self-confidence from being self-reliant and if all else fails, they’ll know they can call mama for some advice because mama can get things done.

    You will Be More Active 

    One under-appreciated benefit of DIY is how it can help you be more active. People often don’t think about all the heavy lifting or regular work, even if it doesn’t feel like hard work. 

    If you wish you could be more active but don’t love going to the gym or running, DIY could be an excellent way to burn some calories and move, and the more projects you attempt, the more intense and ambitious your activities become. 

    You Gain Respect 

    People love people who know what they are doing, especially if you don’t look like you have a handy bone in your body. If you want to surprise friends and strangers alike, learning DIY and coming to their rescue is a solution that’ll make you popular. 

    You might even be able to make some money off them once you show off your skills, as neighbors will be happy to pay you for your time, so they don’t need to wait around for the handyman.

    Just Do It… Yourself

    Learning DIY brings a wide range of benefits that can help your family just as much as it can help you. If you’re tired of waiting around for the handyman to get back to you and arrange an inspection or appointment, you can get ahead of all your home’s demands and upkeep by learning to fix common problems all by yourself, and you’ll be thankful you did. 

  • Mean Girl Dani Mathers Easily the Ugliest Woman on Internet

    Mean Girl Dani Mathers Easily the Ugliest Woman on Internet

    Dani Mathers, Playboy Playmate of the year 2105, is easily the biggest bitch and ugliest woman on the Internet thanks to her body shaming shenanigans. Nothing like being beautiful and a mean girl. That’s original. Want to kick some puppies and pick on kids in wheelchairs next, Dani Mathers? To add insult to injury, she backtracked her bad behavior with a  half-assed apology saying that she shouldn’t have taken the photo of the naked woman and posted it and she’s better than that; it was supposed to be a private chat. Either way lady, you are the worst. Your half-assed apology only proves one thing, that you are sorry that you got caught. Period. If you were really sorry that you body shamed some poor unsuspecting woman trying to get healthy, you wouldn’t have taken the picture and posted it in the first place.

    You are the worst kind of woman, Dani Mathers.

    As I stood there, in my nothingness, my stomach began to hurt. Looking down, I saw nothing. No hips. No hair. Just breast buds. What does that even mean? It’s like they weren’t even trying and hair on my legs. The hair my father refused to let me shave. I stood there trembling, assessing the situation and realized that while over the summer I had a massive growth spurt, it was in all the wrong places. I was tall and gangly with just a hint of a child’s body, a whisper of a woman’s and nothingness surrounded by beautiful, in full swing pubescent girls. F*CK! Now, I have to get naked and walk into the showers with all their glory and all of my nothing.

    I’d been avoiding this for as long as I could. You can only have so many periods and illnesses before the gym teacher demands that you see a specialist. So, I took a deep breath and took the longest walk ever into the public showers in the gym locker room at Middle school. It was my first walk of shame, if you will. I kept expecting the locker room scene from Carrie to take place, only I had no period and was definitely waiting with baited breath for it to happen.

    Girls don’t stare at one another per se but at that age, you definitely look, if for nothing else to see how you “measure up” and believe me you, I wasn’t measuring at all. It was the same year that my dad would tell me that I needed to “run more” and not coincidentally, the year I developed my first eating disorder. I felt my body being judged and shamed from that moment on and I hated it.

    Dani Mathers is not the exception, she is the more often than not the rule.

    As I got older and as things did begin to fill in, I expected it to get better because I’d look like the other girls but it never did. In fact, I never seemed to be in sync with everyone else’s body. I swear I was still able to wear camis until I was 15 because I had no breasts to speak of. I felt disfigured. Obviously, I was a late bloomer because, if you know me, a size D is definitely not nothing. It is definitely something in the world of breasts but with that came an entirely new set of problems.

    Like many women, I’ve never been completely comfortable in my own skin. I’ve always found myself hunching, sucking in, pulling at and pushing out different parts of my body and still, never felt good enough to be stared at or called beautiful. I think many women can relate to this. The way we look is our Achilles heel. It’s the one thing that we, women, feel very personal about and one that we have very little control over.

    Sure, we can work out and starve ourselves. We can dress in the nicest clothes and the best make-up. We can get all the blow outs we can afford, and maybe even more than we should, but we can’t fight genetics. Our body puts us in a position of vulnerability that we don’t often experience. It also makes us feel the most judged, as women. We know we do it, whether it’s intentional or not, and we know everyone does it. We all measure our bodies against others. We score ourselves in comparison to some unrealistic, unattainable idea of what a woman is supposed to look like; based on what we think men want.

    I used to blame men for their expectations but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized I don’t dress for men. I dress for women.  Men are so much less critical of women’s bodies than women. We judge other women harshly, and we judge ourselves even more harshly.

    I’ve always felt trepidation about being naked in front of other people, especially women. Since that very first group shower in middle school, I became painfully aware that we were all being judged and judging. Measuring who we were against other women. It might not be nice or politically correct, but it is what it is and it is. However, the problem comes when we make the choice to share those inner criticisms or think we have the right to openly evaluate another woman’s body especially behind her back and to other people. In fact, keep that shit to yourself.

    This week, Dani Mathers, a 29-year-old Playboy Playmate of the Year 2015, was sitting in the sauna at the gym when she thought it would be funny to snap photos of a naked woman changing in the locker room.

    The woman had no idea. The locker room is supposed to be a safe zone. But it gets even worse.

    She not only snapped the unsuspecting woman’s naked pictures, she shared them to SnapChat with the caption; “If I can’t unsee this then neither can you!” Right next to that, a picture of Dani Mathers covering her mouth in laughter or disgust, I’m not sure which. What a witch! All of our insecurities and fears as naked women, come to fruition in one mean girl tweet! Isn’t enough that we have to fight men for every crumb of equality and respect we can get, do we really need to battle the mean girls too?

    Dani Mathers, body shaming, Playboy playmate, mean girl, woman hating woman

    Not only was it a super shitty thing to do. Dani Mathers completely violated this woman’s right to privacy.

    I hope the woman in question sues Ms. Mathers and gets her banned from locker rooms everywhere. Mathers is the worst kind of woman, the kind who knocks other women down to feel better about herself. Thankfully, Dani Mathers has lost her job and will be banned forever from LA Fitness locker rooms everywhere. Hopefully, that will put an end to her reign as top dog mean girl.

    Isn’t it enough that she’s Playmate of the Year, which one would expect implies a degree of expectation of beauty does she have to belittle and body shame all the regular women? Lucky for her being a Playmate of the year isn’t based on intelligence or the kind of person that you are on the inside because Ms. Mathers you are a hideous monster among a world full of assholes.  You may have been crowned their new queen and rightfully so.

    What are your thoughts on Dani Mathers snapping photos of unsuspecting women in the locker room and body shaming them?

  • My Daughter Loves Me, the In Between Years

    My Daughter Loves Me, the In Between Years

    It’s been a weird time over here, my daughter is growing up at an alarming rate ( both of them) and I feel like I’m physically, falling apart over the last few months. One has nothing to do with the other. But it just gives some background to my state of mind…vulnerable.

     

    We’ve had growth spurts and growing pains and I’ve just waiting for my girls to hit that age where suddenly I am their least favorite person in the world and I’ve been dreading it because honestly, aside from the Big Guy, these two are my favorite people in the world. Have been since the moment they were born. Sure, I have moments when I don’t really like their behavior and I’m not particularly fond of the eye rolling and sarcastic tones that have been making an appearance at my house lately, but God, I adore these girls.

     

    Lately between the bickering between the two of them and the moments of wondering if boarding school might be a better option for my sanity, I’ve been at the end of my parenting rope. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and outnumbered and, worse, disrespected. It’s been hard trying to get my bearings in this new stage of parenthood. I’ve been solidly knocked off my axis. But suddenly, there’s been a shift.

     

    Through it all, I’ve been sticking to my guns and no matter what transpires, my girls always know they are loved; no matter how unlovable they are behaving that day. My oldest, who is only 11, has been exerting her independence for the past couple of years trying to separate from me. I feel it. It’s natural but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It does, like a son of a bitch and this is coming from a broad who has had unmedicated transition labor, a severely broken and shattered leg and relentless gallbladder attacks. My girls pulling away hurts more than any of that ever did. I was sure this was the beginning of the end.

     

    I’m not so old that I don’t remember that phase in my life when I tried to separate from my mom; the teen years. I was awful and I didn’t even understand what it was about my mom that was so annoying. I just knew that every word she tried to tell me, annoyed me. I know now that it wasn’t her at all, it was me. I was growing up, and asserting my independence was just part of that. Being a complete asshole to my mom, that was just me taking it to the next level. Sorry, mom!

     

    Anyways, my Bella, she’s been giving me the “ you don’t know anything” look. I know it well. I gave it. I could feel her pulling away. One day, she would barely speak to me then suddenly, the next she was trying to match me in outfits. I was so confused. Did she hate me or did she think I was “cool”? Was she messing with me? Adolescence is so confusing and puberty makes it all 1000x worse.

     

    I’ve been holding my ground. No matter how awful she is to me, every night I go into her room and kiss her goodnight and tell her that I love her. Every morning when I drop her off at school, I kiss her goodbye and tell her (and her sister) that I love them. I’m relentless with this because I never want them to doubt that or themselves.

     

    Over the last couple of months, I noticed that my daughter has been making a return to me. I know she’s only 11 and there is so much more of this pulling away to come but for now, she has become my biggest advocate. When her little sister starts to argue with me or talk back, my oldest has been intervening. I told her to stop because I don’t want it to cause a rift between her and her sister but I appreciate it. It was nice that she took the initiative to have my back. I appreciate that she cared enough to step in.

     

    She’s been pointing out the similarities in our physical traits and wanting to emulate me. There’s been a shift from “leave me alone” to “can I spend some time with you, mommy” and I’m not ashamed to say that I love it. She loves me and she’s not afraid to show me. She’s stopped resisting the fact that I’ll never stop loving her.

     

    I really think it has a lot to do with me being consistent. She knows my unconditional love means giving her what she needs of me, and that might not always be what she wants from me but she knows that she always has me on her side.

     

    Anyways, with months upon months of crazy stuff going on lately (like seriously, I must have pissed someone off who gave me the evil eye or I accidentally came into possession of some tiki a la The Brady Bunch). All I know is that among broken legs, attacking gallbladder and too many other craptastic things to mention, it is awesome to feel the love from my daughters.

     

    What’s the one time you really needed some love/kind word/smile/something good to happen and it did? Isn’t it amazing how it can change everything?