The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Resolving to Incite a Revolution
Resolving to incite a revolution ~I am way past the point of making resolutions.After all, what the hell is a resolution anyways, nothing more than an empty promise, a flimsy threat at the most.Nope this year, I am declaring war. I’m inciting a revolution.I am resigning myself to a little shock and awe!

*No MORE Cheating! You heard me. I don’t mean that I’m cheating on the Big Guy, never! I mean cheating on diets, cheating myself out of life, cheating myself short on opportunities, cheating my girls out of my complete attention and devotion.

*Embracing Exhaustion! Oh yeah, I am about to make it my mission to exhaust every single iota of potential that these bones have in them. No more sitting on the sidelines letting life happen to me or waiting for things to be done for me, this broad is grabbing life by the balls and making him my bitch. I am going to work this potential so hard, its not going to know which way is up. As the old cheer goes, “Be aggressive..B*EE* EE Agressive!” I’m about to be the change I want to see in my world!

Resolving to incite a revolution
*Organization, Organization, Location! I am a planner, a scheduler, a write it down on paper and DOER! Life seems to have gotten out of control.I don’t mean a little bit off kilter, I mean it has spun right the hell off its axis.Well, NO MORE! Hey, life! Guess what? I AM IN CHARGE..NOT YOU! So, I’m putting pen to paper ( yes, I’m old school like that sometimes) and I’m making a schedule. I’m waking up earlier, getting more sleep, not rushing through life because I’ve planned accordingly, and ( because I am still a bit reckless) I’m even allowing copious amounts of free time for spontaneity.

*Love Hard, Love often! I am making sure that the Big Guy and the girls know how much I love them and how important they are to me. I’m not referring to telling them, speaking the words. I do this already, several times a day. In fact, I’ve told the girls ( constantly) since birth “Guess what? I have a secret.Want to know what it is?” They used to get all excited, their eyes like saucers and ask”Yes, Mommy. What is it?” My answer, I’d bend down and whisper in their tiny ear ,” I Love you more than anything.” Now, they just give me a sheepish smile and say, “What is it Mommy? Tell me!” But more than saying the words, I want to show them with my thoughts and actions.I want to be present in every moment with these family and friends that I have been blessed to be surrounded by in my life. I want them to know in their heart that when I say “I love you” it means..forever, for always, for good, for bad, for ups, for downs, for skinny, for fat, for Always. When they speak, I want them to know I am listening and that what they say matters to me. No more decorum.I am loving on my littles, the Big Guy, my family and friends with an embarrassing amount of exuberance. I want them to feel it to their core…I love them.

Resolving to incite a revolution
*Prioritize, Perspective, and Present The only way to get it all done, in conjunction with my handy schedule, I have to prioritize what’s really important to me and my family. This depends on my perspective. I am choosing to utilize my own perspective ..finally. I am not considering all the outside factors, aside from my girls. I’m also willfully choosing to see life as ALWAYS half full and at my dispense because, in reality, it is. My only limitations have been those I’ve set upon myself. No more! Last but not least, I’m living in the moment. I’m embracing every stinking moment as it happens. I’m not planning for next year, next week, tomorrow…I’m living in the now..RIGHT NOW,with my girls and the Big Guy. I want to enjoy the small things of my life as they happen, not in 20 years in retrospect as a memory. I want to feel the full effect of my life.

*Forgiveness I am forgiving myself for not being perfect. I am not the perfect wife. I am not the perfect Mom. I am not the perfect friend or daughter.I don’t have the perfect body. I don’t have the perfect house. My temper leaves something to be desired. I over extend myself. I expect too much from myself and others. I fall short, in a lot of ways. But that doesn’t mean that my efforts do not have merit. I am hitting reset for everyone I know. I’m passing out forgiveness like kool aid at a Jonestown party. NO more Mommy guilt, no more fatty McFatty guilt, no more I’m not the perfect wife.My house is disheveled. My kids aren’t perfect.No more, I wish I was Bree Van De Kamp bullshit. From this moment forward, I am going to try my best at every endeavor that I choose to undertake with my priority being excelling at being a good example of a the kind of woman I want my daughters to see me as. I will never be perfect, and that is perfectly acceptable, as long as I am living my life as the best me.

*Incite a Revolution I’m initiating a change in my way of life. I am actively taking steps to become the person that I want to be.That woman who lives inside of me and has been too afraid for a long time to take a gamble.The woman who, even though I hate to admit this, I have realized has been so afraid of failure that I have let it stave off success. No More! No more excuses. I’m not afraid of failure anymore.If I fall, I will just pick myself up and try, try again!But today, I am inciting a revolution between the version of myself that I’ve let myself get comfortable with and the woman I know I can be. I’m starting by setting fire to excuses and self doubt and I’m marching forward with self confidence.

What have you resolved to incite revolution about in your New Year? How are you going to go about succeeding? Happiest of New Years! Hang on to your hats ladies, it’s going to be battle of epic proportions but everything worth having in this life is worth fighting for!
The Revolution Starts Today
2011/01/03
FAWK YOU FRIDAY
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Well, its been one of those weeks, you know the ones that kinda sucks monkey balls. Yeah, that’s the kind of week. So, I’ve decided to purge myself of that monkey ball after taste by giving the week a hefty Hell Yeah! FAWK YOU FRIDAY! most likely followed by #Wineparty on twitter to celebrate the week being over! How better to do that than by linking up with my girl Jana’s Fawk You Friday?
Fawk You to feet of snow. Yes, not inches but f*cking you right up the ass feet of snow. Between the 18 inches we got, the foot we still had and the crazy wind blowing all that shit around…I woke up Wednesday morning to snow, quite literally, up to my asshole!NOT COOL!
Fawk You to the fact that my husband lives out of town during the week, but of course where he is..the ice got him. So, he had to stay “Home” where he was..not here “home” where we are! I don’t know why but when he has to stay home from work at the place he’s staying…because it’s NOT here with us, it makes me insanely jealous and perturbed so badly that I get on my own damn nerves. ARGH! FAWK YOU!
Fawk You to the horrible communication at my daughter’s school. 2, count them 2!!!!, fawking dress down days this week…no fawking note! What am I? A freaking mind reader. I don’t run that joint. I need a heads up. Now, my poor kid was miserable because she lives for dress down days.Plus I made her look like her Mama doesn’t care enough to let her wear street clothes or pay enough attention to know when these blasted days are.FAWK ME!
Fawk the 1 pound I gained this week. I work out, I watch what I eat, I try to drink my water but apparently when Mother Nature strikes and water weight decides to hold on to my ass for dear life…I am no competition.
Fawk You to Mother nature! Between your fawking blizzard of 2011, my hemorrhage of 2011 & an all consuming craving for all things carbilicious…you are on my shit list lady! Fawk you..with no KY!
FAWK YOU to being passed over and feeling shitty about it! I’m so sick of feeling less than I what I am due to how I gauge myself against others. It drives me insane. I need to keep my eyes on the goals and less on when others are hitting the finish line. I’m a late bloomer.I always have been, my time will come! Good things to those who wait right? I hope so!
Happy Friday!
2011/02/04
The Seven Stages of Second Baby Syndrome
I know many of us have picky eaters. My 3 year old would be perfectly happy to exist on nothing more than chicken nuggets for the rest of her life. Most days I fight with her, barter with her, do anything I need to do ( Dance monkey dance) to get her to eat something different..but some days….I don’t. I know. I am horrible. My kid’s going to turn into a giant chicken nugget. But the nuggets, or Nuggies as they are affectionately called in my house, are just a symptom of a much larger problem…Second Baby Syndrome.
Ahhh, I feel a weight has been lifted just by simply saying the words aloud.Many, if not all of you, know exactly this syndrome of which I speak. I’m not proud to admit this but it is the truth. With Bella, everything was perfect. What I mean to say is that I did my best to do everything right! She was always dressed adorably, not a hair out of place, all meals were up to food pyramid standards, just the right amount of sleep to play ratio. I read to her, I sang to her, I engaged her, TV time was limited, classes were taken, play dates were made and minds were expanded.I used to turn my nose up to those Moms that I saw in the grocery store, who looked like they had no mirrors in their house and so obviously should not have been parents..as they were yelling at a 3 year old at the top of their lungs because the poor kid wanted granola bars. Then we were blessed with Gabs.
One child is ONE CHILD but two children feels more like ten! I naively thought that having two would be as easy as one. ( What I meant to say as easy as my one was.)What did I know? Suddenly, my days went from doting, anticipating every need, hitting every milestone in stride and ending the day patting myself on the back for a job well done to feeling like I couldn’t can’t keep up. It all became a blur. A fog filled with love and clamor.Noise.Chaos.More love. It enveloped me.I fell into it willingly.But somewhere along the way, I got lost. I lost sight of all my expectations. I think I evolved (or perhaps devolved ) in my parenting skills, however you want to look at it.Somehow I became , what I now know to be, the exhausted, sleep deprived Mom whose husband travels for work all the time and who has not had a shower or shaved her legs for 3 days. And after a testing morning trying to get her older child off to school, she NOW is standing in the middle of the grocery with her 3 year old tantruming over the exact same granola bars that Mommy had to throw away this morning because said child had spat it out all over the new carpet because…it tasted “bad”. All I know is that it was not humanly possible for me to keep up at the pace I had been doing with one child. There had to be a give and take.
It’s a hard moment in motherhood when one has to accept this fact.It feels like defeat but really what it is IS growing pains.It’s you growing into your role of motherhood. I am certain I experienced the 7 stages of grief when letting go of my expectations of motherhood. First there was shock and denial. What? Both kids won’t nap at the same time?I can handle this.I don’t need sleep! 2nd stage, Pain and guilt. I can’t take this any more.Mommy needs some time to decompress too.Please go to sleep. Oh, no don’t cry. It’s OK. Say awake.I’m such a crappy Mommy trying to force my toddler to go to bed, just so I can have some alone time. I suck! 3rd stage, anger and bargaining. GO TO SLEEP!!! Just be quiet and go to sleep. Please go to sleep! If you go to sleep, I will take you to Chuck E. Cheese tomorrow. 4th stage, depression, reflection and loneliness. Crying because you feel overwhelmed. During this time, you finally realize the magnitude of your loss and it depresses you.You can’t be the parent that you had expected to be..because it’s impossible. You may feel isolated, left to reflect alone on your lost expectations and focus on what you thought things could have been.( Cue the montage of you and your pre baby body running in a field of lilies with your perfectly coiffed matching dressed little girls.) You may sense feelings of emptiness, failure or despair.5th stage, the upward turn. You begin to adjust to your new role with new expectations.Life will become calmer and more organized. What that really means is that your house will be dirtier, the meals will be less food pyramid organic and more chicken nuggets for the finicky pallet of the most distinguished toddler connoisseur. Mommy guilt will begin to lift. Stage 6, reconstruction and working through.As you become more functional, your mind starts working again ( mommy brain may have lifted a bit but, let’s be honest, probably not.It’s a slippery slope from pregnancy brain to Mommy brain to full on forget where you put your vajayjay this morning.. sun downers.I’m just saying). You will find yourself seeking realistic solutions to problems posed by motherhood. For example, the 5 second rule becomes perfectly acceptable.God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt, may be heard around the house.Summer afternoons in the pool may begin to qualify as bath time. And finally, you will reach stage 7, acceptance and hope.You learn to accept and deal with the reality of your situation. This in no way means instant happiness. There’s no magic pill for motherhood. Once you give in to the reality that parenting two babies is exponentially harder than one, you can adjust your attitude, your expectations and your technique. You can have hope that one day, you will sleep again.Someday…maybe when they are married and sleeping safely in their bed with their husbands. (Sucker, She’s your problem now!)
And so as I sit here, stuffing more random pieces of paper with notes scribbled on them into Gabs’ baby book, I am reminded of the quote ” Don’t be sad that it’s over, be happy that it happened!”~Seuss Be glad that you cared enough to have the expectations and to impose them on yourself in the first place. Then, go feed that kid some chicken nuggets before they throw a tantrum in the middle of the store:)
2011/02/16
Nutrisystem Update Week 16~
This week was by far one of the worst weeks that I’ve had on my Nutrisystem journey, as well as one of the worst weeks that I’ve had in the month of February. I gained 2 pounds. How did this happen, you ask? To my chagrin, I traveled all last weekend and that created a little hiccup in my diet. I did have meals on hand but we were on the road and I ended up eating out a couple times. Even worse, when I returned home, my back went out. Which meant two things, I was not able to work out. To be honest, I could barely sit upright without wincing. I could NOT walk upright. My back felt like a rubber band pulled to its absolute extreme.I was just waiting for it to pop and snap. It’s done it before and I’ve ended up incapacitated in the praying to Mecca position or flat on my back on the floor. Either scenario not optimal, especially with the Big Guy out of town. I couldn’t even drive the car to get my Bella to school. This was serious business. My sister had to catch a train and come to my rescue, which meant she resumed all my duties while I took my meds to relax my back and keep the insane pain that accompanies such injuries away . It was a real big hot mess around here. While I was in La-la med land, lying flat on my back atop of a heating pad or ice ( depending on the moment you checked in on me) I did not eat appropriately. I didn’t get all my foods in and I wasn’t drinking enough water. The entire week was a wash. It was of no fault of the program, it was me not working the program. But, the back is doing much better and I am pain free,med free, standing upright and drinking my water so I am hopping back on that horse and making it work for me! This weight is coming off, kicking and screaming maybe but it is coming off.
I am so proud of what I have accomplished so far with Nutrisystem. It is a great feeling to see the scale going down. It’s even more encouraging when the clothes start to bag and droop. This small hiccup does not worry me. Nutrisystem is a fabulous program and I know it works. The key is to keeping within the guidelines of the program. So the lesson here is..if you don’t work out, don’t eat the Nutrisystem foods and veggies, fruits, and dairy that you are supposed to, don’t drink the recommended daily amount of water and simply have the Nutrisystem food sitting in the pantry…don’t expect it to work. But if you are serious and want to lose the weight, get healthy in your own skin and be the best you that you can be…Nutrisystem might be for you! Visit Nutrisystem today or call 888-853-4689. Don’t forget right now, Nutrisytem is at the lowest price it has been since 2003! There is no better time than the present to get started on your journey. Bathing suit season is right around the corner!

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
2011/02/27
Mommy Truisims ~ Moving Edition
Mommy Truisms; Moving Edition ~I’ve learned some hard truisms over the span of my short tour of duty Mommying, thus far. But have recently been bitch slap reminded of a few truisms that I had tried to forget. Moving/Selling a house is never fun.I’ve had the pleasure of moving 3 times since my Ella was born in 2005. If you’ve ever done the frequent moving thing before, you can attest to the fact that I am not stretching the truth when I say it’s as trying as walking up hill in the blistering sun, only to have 1 step up be 2 steps back and you can NOT quit. Frustration is the understatement of a lifetime. So, here I will share a few moving truisms that may be helpful, in the very least amusing at my expense.
Moving Edition
- If perpetual cleaning is your idea of a good time and you have small children, you should put your house on the market immediately.Like right this moment. Seriously!
- While packing, you will “hide” put so many things up away from children, that you may as well kiss them goodbye because most likely they are in the home sellers Bermuda triangle. Rest assured, they will NEVER resurface ( case in point, the Vivitar digital cameras I bought the girls for Christmas 2009. Where are they?I don’t know.Oh ,yeah…BERMUDA FRICKING TRIANGLE.)
- Apparently, leaving your “Nads” in your sink drawer is a bad idea. No one wants to by a house from a monkey woman.Go figure. This also applies to your medicines. Nobody wants to know your flavor of sick or crazy. Turn those labels around or throw them in your purse on the way out.
- If you have “personal” items requiring batteries, a plastic tote is not the best storage spot for it unless you like inappropriate smiles from your realtor. Also, if you “hide” it under the bed, be sure to remember to “find” it before the movers do. Also, come on, you should know better you have kids:)
- Shitty diapers left in the garbage do not a house sell. Don’t test this one. Just take my word for it.
- If your house went on the market in the middle of blizzard weather and on the day you have a showing scheduled it is unseasonably warm, melting all the snow in your yard, it is mandatory that you spend the 3 hours previous to viewers arrival cleaning up and disposing of any and all dog shit mine fields that have been revealed.
- There is nothing more fun than packing up 2/3rds of your children’s toys and stacking in the garage. Oh wait, yes there is. That would be your children knowing they are there and whining for them on the regular…daily.
- When people view a house, they DON’T want to know that children or dogs have ever soiled your house. Hide all evidence of children and family pets.
Mommy Truisms ~ Moving is Hardwork
- The most angelic and well-behaved children will turn into Tazmanian devils and dirt monsters when faced with a pristine house.
- Trying to keep your house clean for showings while living with rambunctious preschoolers is as futile as trying to stay on a diet in a house made of chocolate cake, held together by frosting. It is equally as frustrating.
- Showings will most likely ALWAYS be scheduled at your child’s bed time and if they are sick, showing frequency will certainly increase.
- Finding something to do with overtired little ones, at their bed time, is a lot more difficult than it should be or you would ever imagine. Unless of course you are partial to whining, crying & over reactions…which I am not.
- Convincing a 5 year old to move and leave her school and friends is so much easier once you wear them down and they have hit their limit of missing their daddy.12 months..FTW!!
- When moving, sometimes you have to endure some negotiations with your children in the name of the greater good. For example, you don’t want to leave the house you were born in? I’ll buy you bunk beds…at the new house. You don’t want me to pack your toys up? I’ll buy you a trampoline when we get the new house. You want to be a Tazmanian devil and sweep through the house like a monsoon leaving death and destruction in your wake? I will build you a treehouse at the new house. Damn, I sure hope the new house has a big bag of money buried in the backyard.
- Baking cookies to give the house a “comfortable/inviting” smell is great as long as you don’t get distracted by your 1 year old who you spy out the corner of your eye about to leap from the coffee table to the ottoman. Burnt cookies…not so inviting a smell. Also, cooking bacon for breakfast the day of a showing…not such a great idea either. You’ve been warned.
Moving is Near Impossible with children
These are just a few. There are many, many more. What have you learned about yourself and your children while moving or trying to sell a house?
2011/03/03
It’s You They Add Up To
Since the night I met the Big Guy, his love for me has been like a run away train. It was more than I ever expected. It was certainly more than I had ever experienced. It was overwhelming. He took my breath away because, quite frankly, his certainty in his love for me scared the hell out of me. (more…)
2013/01/23
Some Things Truly Do Change You Forever
Today is October 1st, the first day of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Today also marks 5 months since we lost our baby. It’s been 5 months since my miscarriage. It’s the anniversary of the worst day of my life.

This was the first time we ever saw our third baby
We had already been blessed with two beautiful children and I was waiting for the day that the little heart beating blip would turn into a goo covered bundle being laid on my chest. I looked forward to it. My brain ran wild with thoughts of my girls playing with their newborn brother or sister, fawning over his every breath and cry and whimper. I could already see Bella mothering him and sitting by my side as I nursed him begging me to hold him. Gabi would be over the moon. All she’s ever wanted was to big be a big sister. She would have adored that baby like you couldn’t imagine and the Big Guy, he would have fallen so deeply in love with that baby that he would have been his forever, just like he has done with each of our babies. I wanted that baby so much, for so many reasons.
In the past five months, my heart has broken a million different times at the most random occasions but lately it’s gotten harder. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that I keep bumping into women at school, at church, in the store who are pregnant and look to be as far along as I should be. Every time I see one, my heart is reminded of what will never be and it hurts. I know that I am not the first one to suffer this devastating loss and I know that those around me don’t feel this gaping hole that is where my heart used to be but I do.
My girls have moved on from asking about our baby in heaven and the Big Guy never talks about it but he listens when I need to. He knows that the first day of every month, I’m not myself and a little part of me wants to crawl into bed and die just like I did on the day that I found out. I am not purposely lingering in my loss but it’s always there. It haunts me. I think it might always haunt me. I will never forget, any of it. My miscarriage changed me forever, I know that now.
I am past the anger of my miscarriage now, on most days. Now, it’s just a quiet lingering pain of loss. I am happy for those around me who are pregnant and having babies. I am excited at the prospect of my sisters and sisters-in-law and friends to tell me their joyous news. I can’t wait to hold them close and kiss their tiny foreheads but still I am sorry that I will never get to hold my third baby. I will miss that. I am sad knowing that just for a little while I had a little miracle living inside me that I will never get to meet.So today, on the first day of the month and the first day of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, I sit here looking at the ultrasound photos and sob for my beautiful baby in heaven.
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I first shared this post on my friend, Jill’s site Scary Mommy on August 23,2012. She gave me a place to share the events of that day when I was too afraid to share it here. I didn’t want to be that mom who couldn’t stop talking about this one moment but I feel that today is the perfect time to share the details of that day. I can’t promise I won’t talk about it again. I have a feeling that my due date is going to be a pretty painful day for me. Thank you for all of your support and love.
For National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I am sharing my story with you
It was a sunny Monday morning. I had just dropped my 4 year-old off at preschool. I had approximately 2 hours to get to my OBs office and have her check me and tell me nothing was wrong. As I lay there alone on the cold, hard table in the ultrasound room, I expected nothing to be wrong. I had some spotting, as I had with both of my previous pregnancies. Both times previously, everything was fine. I had overreacted. I was 10 weeks and 4 days pregnant with our third child. I just needed the ultrasound and the confirmation that everything was okay and I could continue on with my full day of errands. I wasn’t scared at all. That’s why my husband wasn’t with me. I was wrong.
The ultrasound tech made idle chit chat, apologizing for the wand of the vaginal ultrasound and any pressure that I might be feeling. Then her face went white. I knew. But it had to be a mistake. She continued on in silence. Then the words came, as if in slow motion from across the world, “I’m so sorry, I can’t find your baby’s heartbeat.”
I was in shock. All I could think was, she must have done something wrong. There is a heartbeat; she just doesn’t know what she is doing. I lay there for a couple more minutes, paralyzed and horrified. Embarrassed and humiliated, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to die. I wanted to be dead with no heartbeat, just like my baby inside me. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t cry.
I was interrupted from my internal psychotic break by the ultrasound tech taking my hand softly and telling me, once again, how very sorry she was for my loss and that she would take me downstairs to see my obstetrician “the back way”. I know it was so I wouldn’t have to walk through the waiting room filled with beautiful round bellies full of life. I knew. But it felt like, I was being taken down the back stairs because I was not worthy.
My body had failed my baby and me. There was malfunction and all I could do was take one step at a time and try not falling to the ground and crying forever. It felt surreal like I was watching this happen to someone else. I was outside of my body as I found myself in the Ob waiting room downstairs, not sure if I should politely smile or cry at the other expecting mothers. I was jealous. I was pissed. I was hurt. I felt like my initial reaction of surprise to this pregnancy had somehow made me unworthy to hold my baby. I could not speak. I saw my doctor. She explained the situation. I could barely hear her through my own thoughts. My head was so congested from holding in my pain. I was afraid to open mouth because all of the emotion would come pouring out and drown us all.
I was physically aching. My legs were shaking, my mind was racing, my head was spinning and I was alone; more alone than I have ever been in my life. I needed to hear my husband’s voice. He had to be told. I was the only one who could make that call. He knew I was at the doctor’s office. We’d been here before. We worried for nothing. It was always fine. Not this time.
I dialed the number through my blurry vision, I heard his jovial voice on the other end, “How’s our baby?” I was silent. “Is everything ok?” his concern was palpable. I started to speak, but it didn’t sound like me. It couldn’t be me speaking those words. I opened my mouth and the words came out like a death sentence, “ We had a M…………” and then I began to sob in an uncontrollable and animalistic way in which I have never experienced before. I could not finish the word. It was choking me. I could not say it out loud because then it would be real and then my baby would be dead. The promise of our baby would be broken. Life would be different. I would be different. It would all be less. I would never get to hold my baby in my arms because my baby was gone.
How do you survive a miscarriage? You don’t. You are changed forever. On the day that you lose a child, you lose part of who you were and become someone new; different. Your destiny is changed. You will never be the same. Eventually, you learn to breathe again, you get up of the floor, you stop crying and you somehow carry on.

Our babies who have gone on to heaven may not be here in our arms but they are always in our hearts. During National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, please remember what we can never forget.
October, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month
2012/10/15
Mommy, I Want Another Baby
As I lay here cramping, a cruel reminder, stifling my tears as my 5-year-old brings up an old topic; one that we try not to discuss but has been lingering around my heart lately; the miscarriage we had last year.
It was this time last year that we conceived our third child. I know that. I’ve thought about it every day since Fat Tuesday but tonight, my 5-year-old asked me a simple question as she lay on my stomach and I read her a bedtime story, ” Mommy is there another baby in your tummy?” (more…)
2013/02/25
Cyber Fan or Cyberstalker and how to Know the Difference
Do you know the difference between a cyber fan and a cyberstalker? Because there definitely is a difference and if you work online you should be aware of what cyberstalking is. You should also familiarize yourself with what catfishing is because there are some really desperate individuals out there.
I live and breathe online. I get it. I make my business public. That’s why I’ll never get to live out my dream of being a politician.Well, that and the fact that I actually have some morals and ethics. Those are hard qualities to reconcile with being a politician. My personal business is just too damn public. It served its purpose. It was cathartic but the downside is…everyone knows my business. I’ve had to forfeit some of my expectation of privacy by doing this.
It wasn’t important at the time. At the time I wrote some of the pieces, believe me, my mental status and processing were much more important than who knew my business. But then the dust settles and it’s out there and, as we all know, once it’s out there. It is out there so be somewhat cautious with your online presence.
A couple months ago, I had a real life face-to-face meeting with a reader. Well, she wasn’t so much of a regular reader as my bank teller who handled a deposit from Pop Sugar once and from there on decided to Google me and follow my writing…everywhere. First I thought maybe she was a fellow writer who wanted some tips on how to pitch Pop Sugar. Normally, I would have been flattered but she did one of those things where you go just one step too far. You know what I mean. We’ve all done it. You know you’ve gone too far fangirl when the other party gives you the “the hell?” look. I think she saw mine all the way from my car.
Anyways, I was a little bit creeped out that my teller not only went fangirl on me but then started telling me how she Googled me and had read my pieces on Scary Mommy, Huffington Post, Latina Mom.me, Parenting, She Knows, The Stir and even stuff as far back as Aiming Low. But, I let it go. I mean after all; I make my life public so what did I expect? Someday I was bound to run into someone other than my family, friends or fellow bloggers who actually read my blog.
But then a couple weeks later I returned and again she referenced things I had published online. Now, again this might not have been creepy except when I write online there is a tiny bit of privacy. For instance, most of you don’t know where I live, have my actual address and social security number at your disposal and know where my kids go to school and what they look like in person. You guys don’t know my husband’s name and I probably won’t run into any of you at the local grocery. Basically, I’m not in any immediate danger of you guys coming to my door and boiling my dog or using me as a skin suit. Her on the other hand, she was creeping me out. And now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t be writing this at all because SWF might be reading it. Anyways, here’s hoping she’s not!
I’m not going to lie. I started avoiding my bank. I just felt uncomfortable with her level of comfortableness with me. It’s one thing to Google, someone, it’s a completely different thing to actually tell them and continue on like that is normal to do. It certainly wasn’t professional.
I didn’t think it had really affected me until I realized I have 4 very personal posts in my drafts folder. Anyone who has been reading me for a while knows that I don’t leave posts in the drafts folder. I publish it all.
Then last night, I had a very weird and long dream. I’m not going to go all into detail but let’s just say it involved a very not well-thought out panic room, a weirdo and my entire family. The scariest part of all was that after the entire situation was resolved and the aggressor was apprehended in my dream, the creeper looked at me and (Scooby Doo ending like) said very eerily, “It’s okay, I’ll find you again. You’ll be x, y, z, doing x, y, z again soon.” And that was very scary because they mentioned very specific posts from my blog and I woke up ready to shut the whole thing down. But then I remembered, that’s not who I am and I’m not 5-years-old. Nightmares don’t send me running to my mom’s bed anymore. So, I’m hitting publish and I’m leaving it all on the blog.
The moral of the story is that if you don’t want to be labeled an online stalker, don’t tell people you meet in person that you’ve never met before that you’ve Googled them. It’s just weird unless you are vetting someone for a job or a date and definitely don’t do it every time you see them.
Have you ever had an cyberstalker cross over into real life and how did you deal with it?
2016/10/14
The Burden of Never Disappointing Your Child
How do you deal with the burden of never disappointing your child? A couple weeks ago, I almost bought sparklers for my girls and then I remembered that they could be dangerous. Sure, I played with sparklers every 4^th of July but why take the chance that my girls might get burned? Isn’t it my job to make sure they are always safe? Besides, the Big Guy put his foot down on sparklers, a long time ago. No sparklers for the girls so I put them back down and walked away. But it felt wrong. Why can’t they have sparklers? I loved sparklers. I survived.
There are things I did as a child that we’d never allow our daughters to do today. For instance, I stayed out until the street lights came on playing with my friends, completely unsupervised and survived. I walked to school alone with my little brother, when I was 7 (of course, later I found out that my mom was ninja stalking us all the way). I played with sparklers and lit firecrackers. We jumped in pools and beaches without floaties and ate food before checking labels.
There were no cellphones to keep constant contact, like the tether of a virtual umbilical cord. There were no seatbelt laws or car seat laws. My dad used to give me rides on the crossbar of his ten-speed. I learned to ride a bike, roller skate and ride a skateboard the hard way, without a helmet or pads. But I did learn more about skateboarding because of Free Skateshop.
My parents didn’t worry that I was watching too much television, playing too many video games or eating too much because I ate when I was hungry and I played outside as much as I could because what could be better than playing outside? Nothing!
My parents didn’t need to spy on my texts, emails and search history because they trusted me and I lived in the real world not the cyber world. All of my friends lived within walking distance and those I met on vacations, we stayed in contact by writing letters. Life involved meeting, talking to and interacting with actual people. My parents knew that.
There were no tantrums or eye rolling because I was raised with respect. I had daily chores. My parents weren’t afraid that I would break or they might offend me if I was asked to do my part an in return, I earned privileges like walking to the park with my friend. I played sports that were competitive and I knew grades were earned by hard work.
Sure, sometimes it sucked not getting what I wanted but I learned at a very early age that to get what you want in this world, you have to work hard. You have to make sacrifices and no, it didn’t kill me.
I’ve spent my entire parenting life trying to make sure that my kids had the best of everything; everything I never had. I wanted their memories to be filled with happy times and recollections of all the things I did right. I wanted to eliminate any pain or disappointment but that’s impossible and impractical. I wanted them to survive childhood but I don’t want that anymore. I want them to enjoy childhood. I want them to thrive at it.
The other day, I was thinking what a magical childhood I am providing for my girls. It’s not perfect but they have never wanted for anything. I’ve raised them to believe that they can have everything if they are willing to work for it but I’m not sure they even can comprehend what that means because I have encapsulated them in a happy bubble where life is easy and everything is given to them. They are living in utopia but is this really the best thing I can do for my children? I don’t think so.
You’ve heard the Longfellow quote, into each life a little rain must fall? I’m starting to believe that maybe we do need to experience a little hardship in life to truly appreciate the gifts. Life has come so easy for my girls because they have always had me as their advocate, and that will never change, but I don’t think they get what it really feels like to accomplish something on their own; to really want something, to go after it and to enjoy the moment of victory…of earning it on their own, of true success. That makes me feel like I’m failing as a parent.
What do you think? How do we give our children the childhood we think they deserve without taking away their appreciation for the simple things in life, like sparklers?
How do you deal with the burden of never disappointing your child?
2015/07/10