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Mentally Ill Teen, Keith Vidal, Shot & Killed because Officer Had No Time for That
The family of 18-year-old, Keith Vidal, called their local police for help when their son was behaving erratically during a schizophrenic episode last Sunday night. The 18-year-old from Boiling Spring Lake, North Carolina, was first tasered by two police officers and on the ground when shot and killed by a third officer, Bryon Vassey, from the neighboring town of Southport.
According to this emotional video by Keith Vidal’s stepbrother, Mark Ryan Wilsey, Keith was recently diagnosed with Schizophrenia and was coping while dosing was being figured out.
Vidal’s father, Mark Wilsey, called the police Sunday night because his son was armed with an electric, six-inch screwdriver and was threatening his mother. According to the family the two officers had the situation under control, with the 100-pound Keith Vidal on the ground tasered, when Officer Vassey entered the premises and within 60 seconds said, “We don’t have time for this.” Then he shot Keith Vidal in the chest, killing him. I can’t get the disturbing image out of my head of someone putting down a lame dog.
Officer Vassey first said he was ‘defending himself,” only to later say through his lawyer he was defending another officer. How could deadly force be the only option when there are 3 officers and a Taser involved to subdue one skinny teenager?
My heart breaks for this family. Any person who has ever dealt with, loved with or been mentally ill knows that getting the right meds dosage is critical. Sometimes it takes months or even years to find the right dosage. Meds can alter your state of mind sometimes even worse than the mental illness itself.
This kid was 18-years-old and recently diagnosed. Can you imagine what a pill it is to swallow to be told that you have a mental illness and will be medicated for the rest of your life just to be “normal”? I can. When I was first diagnosed with Bipolar 1, I was at a point in my life where I had been ill for years with no help. No diagnosis. I felt irreparably broken. I felt alone and severed from everyone around me. I can’t even describe to you what it feels like to feel so broken. The closest I can compare it to would be like living in quick sand and you are being swallowed whole by the disease but the more you struggle to resist, to survive the deeper you sink and the more likely you are to lose yourself. It is terrifying because you don’t know why this is happening to you. Was it something you did or didn’t do?
When I finally got a diagnosis, I was terrified but relieved. Relieved that there was help to be had and to find that I wasn’t so broken as much as really bent. It was a struggle to get back to “normal”; whatever that is. I’m not sure I really know. Normal is relative, I suppose.
It took months of highs and lows. I was originally misdiagnosed as depressed and given enough anti-depressants to kill a horse, which made me ever increasingly manic. In the end, I was at the brink of psychosis. I saw madness. I felt it. Touched it. Lived it. It was the biggest part of me.
Eventually, anti-depressants were taken down to next to nothing; stabilizers and Ambien entered the picture. Where mania once ran rampant, now zombie like living: walking into walls and all-consuming lethargy had become part of who I was. After a few months, I was finally regulated and began to feel “normal” for the first time in years; maybe ever.
It all seems so cut and dry when you write it out but it’s not. The part I haven’t told you that before my medication dosage was right, I was highly erratic. I was like a ticking time bomb. What was going on inside my head was so distracting that it left me annoyed and irrationally angry with myself and everyone around me. Later, through therapy, I realized that the irritability was directly proportional to my mania. My body and mind were pissed off because no one ever turned the lights off. My body and mind were exhausted and there was no off switch to be had.
I did irrational things just to feel alive because I ALWAYS needed to feel alive; I drove fast, lived fast and never considered consequences. I teetered between feeling invincible and wanting to die. I drank a lot. I know now that I subconsciously did that to shut things off. It’s actually pretty common. I alienated family and friends because I overreacted to everything. Sometime between high school and college graduation, I had spun completely out of control. The insomnia was just fuel to the fire.
I fully accept responsibility for my behavior in those days though, honestly, I had no real control over a lot of it. I never wielded a weapon at my parents but I did throw a friend’s belongings off my balcony and came pretty damn close to tossing her as well during a particularly manic episode. I used to be quite good at pushing people away. I think I was afraid they’d see the real me and know something was “off ”. Even before I knew what it was, I knew something wasn’t right. I hoped and prayed that there was a reason for the behavior.
My whole point for this very long and drawn out story is that if you met me today, you’d know that I’m not the same person I was at 18, 21 or even 25. I am the mother of two, a wife, and even a room mother. I am just like you but maybe I wouldn’t be if someone decided that they had no time for me to get help; to learn to live with my diagnosis. Perhaps, this is the problem with the world, we resign ourselves to believe that those who are mentally ill are dangerous, less than or even worthless. We forget that they are people, just like you and I.Well, more like me than you, I suppose:) My point is that just because someone is mentally ill doesn’t mean they can’t be valuable members of society or good human beings. It only means that they might have a more difficult journey than the rest of us.
Officer Vassey might have been scared and felt threatened because sometimes in the midst of an episode, the person suffering looks scary. The fact remains that if two officers had Keith Vidal tasered on the ground, what possible reason could there have been to shoot him? Unlike me, Keith Vidal is dead and now, will never have the chance to learn to live with his disease; to grow up, to have a family, to be a dad or a husband.
What are your thoughts on this tragic story? What would you do if you were Keith Vidal parents?

2014/01/10
How to Say No & Not Feel Bad about it
You know what no one teaches us as children? How to say NO! Sure we may say “no” for a few years in obstinate defiance as children but soon, that is beaten out of us ( not literally but we are told over and over again that it’s not nice to say no!) We are taught from the time we are toddlers that to be pleasing in word, deed and action to those who surround us. We are even urged to look pleasing. Inadvertently, we are turned into yes to people. We are taught that to say no is to be disagreeable. “No” comes with a metric ton of guilt. But what no one tells you is that “no” can be empowering. We all need to learn how to say no, not feel bad about it and carry on. Guilt is overrated. I have enough guilt from drinking the Kool-Aid that’s told me there is such a thing as the “perfect parent”, when we all know the “perfect parent” is no more real than unicorns.
I’ve spent my entire life trying to fit in. That is what society dictates. To be “pleasing” is not the same as coloring my world all unicorns and rainbows but it is also not in your face instigation. I assume it comes from growing up in a household and a society where I was told regularly to ‘be quiet” as to not rock the boat or cause discourse. Why the fuck is it so important for everyone to like what everyone else says or wants? Once I really thought about it, sure who doesn’t like to be “liked” but then I thought, if I’m always saying yes to shit I hate, it’s all a big lie anyways and no ones pleased really; not the people I am saying yes to and certainly, not me. Not to mention, saying yes can become overwhelming and you will find yourself bogged down with things that you don’t want to do and missing opportunities that would be better suited to your life. This can happen in your career, school, family or friendships.
I’m sure the people pleasing started when I was a child. I wanted to make my parents happy like all children. I wanted to feel special among the 6 children they had. My claim to “special” child was pleasing disposition and great grades. I said yes, I did my chores, I did my homework and I strove for perfection in all areas. I thrived in the praise of , “Good job, Debi!” But then it was never enough. Parental approval became like a drug and soon I found myself feeling let down and never able to meet the standards.I just kept saying yes to please people, even though I was becoming completely miserable. In fact, I found myself finding excuses to refuse offers to go or do things because I just felt like me not wanting to was not a valid reason. It seemed selfish and warranted disapproval.
Why can’t we all just have our feelings without seeking validation from others. I have friends that I love but we don’t agree on politics or religion or even the color of the sky but we are friends still; we agree to disagree. I respect them as people and I respect their right to their opinion even if I don’t agree. I like hearing their perspectives. Hell, maybe I’ll learn something or they will point out something I never even thought of. I would never want a friend who only always said yes because if they only ever agreed with what I said, I’d have to wonder if they ever had a thought of their own and if they were genuine at all.
I know all this about myself and I am trying to break the involuntary response to placate others without ever considering first what I want. Still , on a regular basis people ask me to do stuff that I don’t want to do and do not benefit me in anyway and I say yes because I don’t want to hurt feelings, piss people off or I simply have no excuse to refuse other than I just don’t want to. Saying no doesn’t make you selfish. People do huge life changing things for the wrong reason all the time because they are afraid to say know. People marry the wrong person, take the wrong career path,stay in a marriage and even have children because it was what was expected of them. That is just not a good enough reason.
Who says no because they don’t want to unless they are a two-year-old throwing a tantrum? I am an adult and somehow saying no feels petty. Who wants to be thought of as petty? I often find myself frustrated and doing something I didn’t want to do but didn’t think I had the right to say no. Why can’t I say no? I don’t want to do it. I am an adult. I have the right to make a choice. The right to refuse. Remember to consider if when you say yes to others are you saying no to yourself? I am saying no from now on when I don’t want to do something and I refuse to qualify why to others.
Last week, it just clicked for me and someone asked me to do something that I didn’t want to and before I could even think about it, I said no. I caught myself and I felt embarrassed and guilty. It was a simple request from my husband to help him shovel the snow, during the blizzard. He never asks me to but there was a LOT of snow. But I was cold and the thought of shoveling snow that was 14 inches high and still falling felt too daunting a task and I wanted no part of it.I said no and I meant it. I think I shocked him. I eventually acquiesced and we shoveled together. Thank God, it may have killed him shoveling al that snow by himself. But when I said no, you can’t believe how happy it made me to say it out loud.
It starts with little things like, “Come on try a piece of this or that, just a taste.” You want to say no but why bother it’s only a small piece but then before you know it, it’s your virginity, your career, your happiness. It’s your life. When does it stop? We get into a habit of avoiding conflict and just saying yes. Say NO. What’s the worst that can happen? You inconvenience someone else? So what. Isn’t your happiness just as important as theirs.
Forgo the guilt and soak up the giddy excitement and sheer joy that comes with saying no. It’s invigorating to say no. Now, I understand why the two-year-olds love it so much. The liberation of saying no to something that you genuinely don’t want to do is one of the most . Consider yourselves, your wants and needs before you answer and if you don’t want to do something, feel free to confidently and graciously say no. Grinning and bearing it never made anyone happy and lying to get out of things is exhausting. Feel heard and know that you should never feel afraid to have an opinion. Somethings in life we have to do, even if we don’t like them because they are what is best for us. Guilt should not be a part of saying no.
How do you say no and not feel bad about it?
2014/01/13
Kindergarten Teacher, Thomas Washburn, Removes 6-Year-Old Girls Shirt in a Fit of Anger & Leaves her Exposed in Front of the Entire Class
An Arizona Kindergarten teacher, Thomas Washburn, faces 26 counts of indecent exposure and one count of child abuse after he allegedly removed a 6-year-old girl’s shirt and left her naked from the waist up in a packed classroom. He did what????
Thomas Washburn, 54, a teacher at Adams Elementary School in Mesa, Arizona was arrested Wednesday when the incident was reported by the little girl’s mom and is now on “PAID” leave. Meanwhile, the little girl is humiliated and traumatized. This man should be locked up in jail.
Police said that something upset Washburn, who then started shouting in the classroom filled with 24 kindergarteners and an adult aide. The loud outburst frightened the little girl so badly that she hid her face in the top of her shirt. I know, as parents, we sometimes have these moments of insanity where we do something unconventional but that is our own children and it doesn’t happen in front of 24 of their peers and we aren’t strange men ripping their clothes off and leaving them naked and exposed.
Further infuriated by the little girl’s behavior, Washburn told the little girl to take her face out of the shirt. When she did not comply, he took her shirt off of her, leaving her naked from the waist up in front of her classmates for about 10 minutes. The little girl began crying, presumably a combination of the fright of having her shirt ripped off of her by a crazed old man, someone she trusted, and being naked in front of her classmates. Eventually, the sonofabitch returned her clothes. This makes me want to bust this guy in the face with a ball bat. I’ve had a teacher pull my kindergartener to the front of the class to point out that her uniform was not to code and that was enough to make me livid. I not only approached the teacher and told her in no uncertain terms that she was to NEVER embarrass my child again but I even contacted the principal because, in my mind, this is not acceptable to do to a child. If she would have removed a piece of clothing or touched her, I’m certain I would have physically hurt her.
To make matters worse, the victim’s mother said her daughter was born prematurely and is “developmentally delayed.” This man is a piece of garbage and clearly does not need to be teaching in the classroom.
Ok, that was what the report said, more or less, now let me tell you what I think. You see I have a 6-year-old girl and believe me when I tell you that if a teacher, male or female, ripped my kids shirt off of her in a fit of rage or what the fuck ever was going on, this person should expect to feel the full wrath of myself and my husband. I’m saying this asshole should hide because I’d be at his house to collect him with a ball bat, take him to the mall and strip him down in front of the world to let him stand there on display with his bad attitude and his little dick in humiliation for the full ten minutes in which he let the child do the same and then I would beat him with the said bat. This asshole should not be allowed alone with children. He obviously has some sort of anger issue and has no clue as to how to handle an uncooperative child. He needs to lose his job and be punished for this for the rest of his life because by doing what he did, that will follow that little girl for the rest of her life. She will be afraid of grown men in positions of power and feel vulnerable and threatened. As far as I am concerned, this man is an animal and belongs in a cage.
If he couldn’t handle the crazy unrest of 6-year-olds than he should have stayed the hell out of a kindergarten classroom. He should have walked away. No matter what was going on in his life to make him have a bad day, his responsibility is to protect and teach those children and there is an expectation from those parents who are leaving their child in his care that he actually CARES for their child, not humiliates them in front of the class.
What would you do if a teacher did this to your 6-year-old?
2014/01/18
The Bush is Back and Pubic Hair is Everywhere
Ladies, have you heard? The BUSH is back! I don’t mean of the George W. or George Herbert or any other kind of political bush. I am talking about full-on 1970’s au natural pubic region BUSH! I write that in all caps because I was born in 1972, hit puberty in the 80’s and I don’t think I have ever grown in more than a landing strip. Bush is a big deal. It’s a game changer. Going back to bush is like a giant “Eff You!” to sexist mainstream society. It’s bra burning for 2014.
If you want proof that pubic hair is back in vogue, just watch last night’s episode of Girls in which Gaby Hoffman was rocking a way over grown, gratuitous bush. I was a little shocked to see a bush on the television because you just don’t see that. Then there was the American Apparel mannequins and recent interviews in which Cameron Diaz proclaimed that she is going back to her au natural state as did Gwyneth Paltrow. Looks like the over 40 set has decided to forgo the Brazilian and just see what happens.
Oh.MY.GOD.Becky, Look at that BUSH!
That is exactly what would have been heard round the locker rooms in the 80’s had anyone thought to go rogue and grow a full on 1970’s porn bush. I would have been laughed out of high school. It was bad enough my dad wouldn’t let me shave my legs and I had to rock tube socks to hide that fact. There was no way I was growing out a pubic area afro. I didn’t care how bad it itched when it grew back in or hurt when you got an ingrown hair, I didn’t even mind the lip slip of 1989. That was a close one, I almost lost a labia. But I survived with no bush and became stronger because of it.
Look if you were born in the 80’s, I am pretty sure that you have never seen a true full on bush unless you walked in on your grandma in the shower. Well, maybe if you are Amish, I am assuming that since you aren’t allowed to use zippers, razors are forbodden, as well. In which case, you know the bush and the tube socks, all to well.
I’ve been landscaping my nether regions since they began to grow in.I had no choice. It was what was expected. My pubic region has looked prepubescent for so many years that I’m not even sure if I could grow a full on bush. I mean, it kind of explains why my boobs took so long to grow in. If they were waiting for the pubic hair to come in fully as a sign to grow, I can see where the confusion came in.I suppose there are some benefits to a bush if you are over 50, to hide the wrinkles but then you would have gray hairs, right? That’s got to age you.
To be honest, with this new fad of full bush coming back, I am a little afraid that I will be completely out of style because it’s been so long since I have had any pubic hair, I may be in for quite the surprise like those men who purposely shave themselves bald in their 20’s as a fashion statement only to find in their 30’s that their hair will not grow back in and they are, in fact, now unintentionally bald. I’m afraid I may have landscaped myself right out of style in 2014.
Oh well, let’s be honest. I am not really too keen on the whole idea of bush anyways. I personally don’t relish the thought of looking like I have a midget with an afro in a headlock between my legs and not to be TMI,(though I just wrote an entire post on pubic hair) but some of us are just hairier than others. The thought of catching pubic hair on the sticky side of a panty liner sounds excruciating. I’m not even sure that I have panties equipped to handle a full bush. That sounds like a job for a younger girl with bigger panties and don’t even think about going commando with a bush because I am pretty sure that getting that thing caught in a zipper would be like pulling nose hairs.
But all joking aside, a woman’s beauty should never be wrapped up in what is between her legs and certainly not in its packaging. Hair grows on our bodies for a reason ( well, everything except for the upper lip hair I’m sure that’s just a cruel joke) and why would we want our women’s bodies to look like little girls? Hair is a personal thing, some of us like it long and some of us like it short and some like none at all. I say, do whatever makes YOU feel beautiful and whether that means being bald or wearing a thick, full afro between your legs, go on with your bad self!
So if you want to be in vogue in 2014, burn your bras, back away from the wax and razors and don your natural bush because baby, the bush is back.
What do you think of the new fashion of women growing in their body hair? Will you love the bush or leave it?
2014/01/20
In Honor of the 2014 Sochi Olympics
The Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics started last night and I couldn’t think of a better way to commemorate the event than by sharing this amazing video of 1000’s of Kentucky State High School Choir singers singing the American Anthem on the Balcony of the Hyatt Louisville. I only wish I could have seen it in person. As it is, my heart swelled with patriotism and for a few short minutes I forgot about all the bad in the world this week. This is super cool.
In case you missed it earlier this week, I tackled the #SpeakAmerican debacle. If you are in the mood for something less controversial, I gave you the low down on how to make some mommy friends ( because Lord knows, we all need them) and if you want a giggle ( because we all do) I wrote about Old Wives Tales of Pregnancy like wearing red panties during an eclipse to protect your unborn baby or if you are in the mood for a good cry, I wrote this about loss on HuffPo.
2014/02/07
How to Save Money For the Things that Matter Most in Your Life
I was compensated with a payment by JG Media and Sprint to write this blog post. However, the views expressed in this post are my own.
Have you ever wished that your cellphone bill were cheaper? Daily, right? I know that I do. It’s not as bad as the cable bill but it’s pretty bad. I have loads of other things that I could be doing with that money, like paying off those grad school loans that I’ll probably being paying until I die. If you could cut your rate plan in half wouldn’t you?
I have kids so that means tuitions, ballet, cheer, soccer, violin, a mortgage and more organic, grass-fed groceries than I ever anticipated. It’s expensive being a parent. I’ve learned to live on a budget. When I think of what I pay for my cellphone, it feels indulgent and I feel guilty. It’s like I’m being hijacked and my connection to civilization is being held hostage by my cellphone provider. Don’t they know that my iPhone is my connection to the outside world?
If you handle a lot of money and need to count large amounts of money, the best option is to use a money counting machine to ensure that the amount is correct.
I love my service at my current provider but the bill is getting out of hand, like I could sponsor 6 or 7 kids a month through Save the Children outrageous. I’d love to find a way to still get great service without the hefty price tag. I won’t lie, I’ve considered switching providers several times. I’m just too busy to spend the hour on the phone or the face time checking out providers. I guess I’ve unwillingly conceded to pay.
Sprint is currently running a promotion that allows customers to easily and conveniently figure out financially if it’s worth the switch before you take the leap. There are three easy ways to find out how much you can save by switching to Sprint:
#1-If you are a Verizon or AT&T customer; there is a special promotion to cut your monthly wireless bill by switching to Sprint. Current AT&T and Verizon customers can upload their wireless bill online.
#2 Visit any Sprint store to find out how to cut your monthly wireless bill—and it’s easy to make an appointment on the website
#3 Call 866-866-7509!
It was so easy to find out how much I could save on my rate plan. I chose option #1, simply answered a couple questions, uploaded a pdf of my current bill and bada bing, bada bang they told me almost instantly that I can save $876 a year! That’s having my cake and eating it too. Plus, Sprint will pay all of the switching fees. I can still have the service I’ve become accustomed to but have that extra cash to put towards something fun for the family or maybe a spa weekend for myself.
Speaking of doing something nice for yourself, Mother’s Day is right around the corner and Sprint and JG Media are hosting a #CutYourBillSweeps Mother’s Day Sweepstakes. The grand prize is a $500 Amazon gift card. What would you do nice for yourself if you had an extra $500 to spend?
To enter the Mother’s Day sweepstakes simply post a picture or video on Twitter of what you would do with the money you would save by cutting your monthly rate plan. Use the hashtag #cutyourbillsweeps and include either the @Sprint or @Sprintlatino handles in the tweet.
The winner will be announced during a Twitter party next Wednesday, May 6^th, at 6pm pacific 9pm eastern. You don’t have to be there to win but it sure would be a lot more fun. Plus, 3 more $100 Amazon gift cards will be given away during the party to winning entrants of the #CutYourBillSweeps.
Hope to see you there. What are you waiting for? Go see how much you can save by switching to Sprint today!
Let Sprint show you how to save money for the things that matter most in your life.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

2015/04/29
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
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?
2015/05/30
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?
2017/08/17
Love in a Marriage Isn’t Always What You Expect
Do you think love in a marriage can be as passionate as love before marriage? Like head over heels, “I would live forever just to be by you” love? “I love you so damn much that I want to be ghosts with you” love? The kind of love in a marriage that you never want to let go of?
The kind of love in a marriage that makes you brave.
I’m not usually a sappy person here, well, not too often anyway, but this Valentine’s Day something happened. I’ve been changing a lot of things in my life lately but one thing hasn’t changed. The Big Guy has always been my rock; my constant.
The Big Guy is what I affectionately call my husband here on this blog. If you’ve been a long-time reader, you know it’s because he is 6’5” not because I think he’s God, though many of you have asked me that before. He really is a big guy and we have big kids but with him, its not just his stature. He laughs big, he smiles big, he loves big, he’s just a big personality and anyone who has met him can attest to that.
Even living with all this bigness all the time, it truly is the little things that count with us and he gets that. He’s always gotten that and that’s one of the reasons I adore him so completely.
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. I know many of you think it’s just a Hallmark holiday and in many ways, it is. I was never big on the holiday because, in previous relationships, it just felt like an inevitable trap to be let down. I’d get my hopes up and things would never measure up. Then I met my husband and ever since that first Valentine’s Day, he’s always made it more than special.
The kind of love in a marriage that makes you forget reason.
You see, we got engaged on January 23, 1998. Random weird time to get engaged right? Especially since we had only been dating for 4 months at the time. I was completely speechless when he asked me in the middle of a club. There was no ring, there was no drop to your knee It was him screaming over the music and me shocked. It felt impetuous. I wasn’t so sure if it was him or all the alcohol he had been drinking that was asking me to spend the rest of my life with him so it took me a couple weeks to give him an answer. Sounds terrible, right? Wrong.
When I called my sister to tell her what this crazy guy at university has just done, she said, “Oh yeah. Weird, I thought he was waiting until Valentine’s day. He told us at Thanksgiving that he was going to ask.” Wait! What? November????
Apparently, the proposal was not impetuous, only the delivery. He had been planning for months, though he still didn’t have a ring. He told them he knew from the moment we met that I was his soulmate. To be honest, after being burned by the previous few guys I had dated, I was kind of jaded on the whole “soulmate” thing. Not, him. Not my Big Guy.
Apparently, he was a little nervous and it just popped out of his mouth on the dance floor, a couple weeks early. That’s why there was no ring. Maybe I was accidentally doing some sort of fertility/marry me dance that I didn’t even realize I was doing and my female wiles overtook him. All I know is the sweetest man I had ever met (and barely knew) asked me to marry him. My answer? I love you and then I casually walked away as if he’s just asked me if I wanted a beer.
We both pretended it didn’t happen. Then a week or so later while sitting across the computer lab he emailed me a note that read, “so are you ever going to answer me?”
Yikes, he hadn’t been that drunk. I told him I didn’t think he was serious and I needed to think about it because it was a serious question. It wasn’t like, do you want fries with your burger. It was the biggest question of my life.
Do you love me enough to spend the rest of your life with me?
Finally, I answered. It was really simple, I asked myself, can you live the rest of your life without this man in it? My answer was quick and all consuming, no. After knowing him, I couldn’t see my life playing out with anyone else. It depressed me to think of not seeing him every day or hearing that big crazy laugh or seeing that big beautiful smile so I said, “Hell, yes!”
I got an engagement ring for Valentine’s Day that year. That’s why Valentine’s Day is special to me. Not because of the holiday per se but because it was supposed to be the day the Big Guy asked me to be his wife but he was just so damn eager that he couldn’t wait. And he actually purchased it from a design your own custom engagement rings shop. Awwww, right?
He’s always done Valentine’s Day big. He pulls out all the stops. But this year I didn’t want a big elaborate gift. I wanted something more personal. I wanted him. I wanted his love in a tangible form. Sometimes love in a marriage becomes quieter and more of a hum than a roar. I wanted a roar.
I wanted a playlist (modern day mixtape), a hand-written note from him (which ended up being the sweetest Facebook status ever) and I didn’t want to cook dinner. Other than that, I just wanted to be together. That’s exactly what I got.
Needless to say, I spent most of yesterday crying happy tears because he kept sucker punching me with all the feels. It was glorious. Proof that love in a marriage can sweep you off your feet just as much as any new, shiny relationship.
The kind of love in a marriage that makes you want to have babies just so there are more people like him in the world.
Every word was like salve to my soul. He is not a big talker. He’s more of a do-er. He shows me he loves me in his actions every single day. He’s the kind of guy who makes the scrambled eggs on school mornings so you can have a break. He’s the kind of guy who gives you the last bite of his sandwich because you’re still hungry, even if so is he. But I’m a writer and sometimes I want words and wow, his words were everything.
The playlist spoke to me in another way. It spoke to my heart with every lyric. Each song was more perfect than the last. It said everything I needed to hear.
You know how when you are young and dating you’re always wondering, just a little bit, where you stand in the relationship? How he really feels? Well, the Big Guy laid it all on the table and damn.
The kind of love that leaves you speechless.
I don’t know how you spent Valentine’s Day but I hope it was amazing. I don’t mean fireworks, symphonies and diamonds (those things are nice) but amazing in that at the end of the day, you knew you were loved by someone for just being you. Unconditional, all-accepting love is something I never knew in my life until the Big Guy and nothing compares. No gift can compare 100% reciprocated, unconditional and equal love.
I don’t know if there are any words that can convey to him how much his words meant to me but I hope he knows that I couldn’t imagine spending my life loving anyone else. I was scared when he asked me to marry him because it was so soon in our relationship but every day, I thank God the universe that he chose me.
What is the one thing your partner did to show you that love in marriage could be just as passionate as when you were single?
2017/02/15