The TRUTH About Motherhood

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That’s My Daughter
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My New Favorite Photo of My Daughters
That’s my daughter in the water, both of them
That’s my daughter is what I want to scream every single time anyone looks at my daughter, either one of them. Anyone who’s ever had the honor of being the mommy to a daughter knows that our little girls leave us in awe on a daily basis. I can’t even explain the pride and love that I feel for these two little creatures. At their very core, they are pure good. They are everything that I love about the world, about people, even about living. Everything I do is for them.
This past month has been such an emotional roller coaster for so many reasons, least of all because of our miscarriage. I say ours because it wasn’t just my loss. It hurt our family, at it’s core. Thank God,I have so much to be thankful for. I am so freaking blessed that sometimes, I think it’s not fair that I should have so many blessings in my life, especially my daughters and husband. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows over here, hardly. But even when it’s hard, it’s still really, really good because I have the girls and the Big Guy to love me. They love me regardless of the time, day, weather, whether I am fat or skinny. It’s unconditional and that is truly something to be thankful for.
So, I am not going to go on mushy on you and talk about what I’ve lost. I’ve done enough of that. You have all been such a great sounding board. I have shouted profanities at life and collapsed in a pool of snot and tears and I have had so many people to lift me up. I finally feel like I can stand alone and shout my profanities. I know y’all have got my back and I don’t feel sorry for myself anymore. I feel sad at what I will never know and I feel the void but I know that I am strong enough to survive. I know that I am a stronger and better person for having survived it, like so many other shitty things that I have survived.
This is about so much more, this is about my daughters and all the reasons that I had to celebrate this month. No, I am not crazy or delusional and believe me, I didn’t think I could celebrate anything but how could I not. My husband celebrated his 37th birthday. The Big Guy is my soft place to land in a life of never ending rocks and hard places. I celebrate his birth because, he is responsible for my rebirth. He is the part of me that holds me up. He is my foundation.
That’s My Daughter, Who’d Have Ever Thought Her?
I had to celebrate Mother’s day because look at the two daughters I have been blessed with. My girl’s bring me infinite love to give and to receive on a daily basis. They have made me better than I ever could have hoped to be, more than I could have imagined was even possible. With them, my heart grows to the point that it feels like it may swell and burst out of my chest.
The Big Guy and I celebrated 13 years of marriage. This man came into a moment in my life when I was not expecting love. Up until him, what I thought was love was a faint shadow of what love truly is. Love is all consuming and easy. It’s a submission of your heart, body and soul with a complete reciprocation.It’s a soft place to land. It’s good times and bad. It’s the big things and the little things. It’s sharing a near death experience in order to create a perfect, living breathing , walking around and breaking your heart culmination of your love. It’s holding hair, holding hands and holding your heart together with chewing gum when it’s breaking into a million different pieces. It’s silence that fills a room and noise that fills your heart. It’s all day, every day and it is unconditional without reservation, hesitation or question.
We celebrated Gabi’s birthday. My tenderhearted baby turned 5 this past week and if I were on my dying bed, I would will myself up and celebrate that child’s life. She is strong, witty, funny and amazing in ways that I’d never thought about before her. She is my baby and that is worth celebrating. She is here to be held and loved. I will do it every second and in every way for as long as I take breath into my body.
Along with all that, there were end of year programs, preschool graduation, ballet recitals, firsts performances, last days, life and death and through it all, I am so glad that you are here to share it all with. Which reminds me, The TRUTH about Motherhood just turned 3 and Throat Punch Thursday (Which I’ve been too emotionally drained the past month to dole out but will resume next month) is officially 2 years old. I have truly enjoyed getting to know all of you and I look forward to many more years of growing through motherhood and life with you.
What would I do without to you? What would I do without the Big Guy or my daughters? I don’t know and I hope I never do know life without your community, the Big Guy or my daughters.
That’s my Daughter, Every time she fell I caught Her, Every time
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2012/05/27
Do You Vaccinate?
Do you vaccinate your children? I do. Every time they are due for their vaccinations, I schedule an appointment with the pediatrician and we get our shots. According to the CDC, vaccines prevent more than 700,000 child deaths in the US.
While there are some childhood illnesses that are seldom found in the western world these days, because of vaccinations, there are others that are still very rampant in the world and they do not discriminate by race, color, religion or socioeconomic standing. These illnesses will attack where they can and either you are protected, or you are not.
I vaccinate my children because I want to protect them against childhood diseases that can wreak havoc on their immune systems and even be fatal. I realize that some children cannot be vaccinated due to health issues, and that’s why it is even more important that those who can do, to help protect these children as well.
What scares me is the fact that the entire concept of vaccines relies upon herd immunity, which is the idea that diseases won’t be communicable because most people are immune. If there are enough unvaccinated children roaming the world, the situation can allow for the spread of diseases that we thought were nearly eradicated, like measles, mumps and whooping cough.
The near and complete eradication of these childhood diseases due to vaccines keeps our children safe. Vaccines are a great thing. Now, cases of pertussis, measles and mumps are popping up all over the country. Don’t think it’s going to stop there. The less we vaccinate, the worse this is going to get. No matter the reason behind not vaccinating, being unvaccinated means being vulnerable and susceptible to these diseases.
My point is this: We live in a world where these diseases have become a thing of the past. We don’t plan for them, we don’t worry about them and we don’t know how to readily recognize them. If you are interested in discussing more ways to keep your children healthy and protected against dangerous childhood diseases, please join us for the #CDCvax Twitter Party
What: While it can be easy to think of vaccine-preventable diseases – such as measles or whooping cough – as issues of the past, most of these diseases still persist around the world. Just last year, in 2013, 189 people in the U.S. reported having measles, the largest reported outbreak in the U.S. since 1996.
This year marks the 20th anniversary of National Infant Immunization Week (NIIW), an annual observance to highlight the importance of protecting infants from vaccine-preventable diseases and to celebrate the achievements of immunization programs in promoting healthy communities throughout the United States.
The Motherhood is joining The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in sharing how immunizations early in life can help protect children from 14 serious diseases before they turn two years old. We’ll be providing the CDC’s recommended immunization schedules, along with interesting facts and helpful tips.
Join us to learn more and share tips of your own for managing your family’s vaccinations and overall health!
When: Wednesday, April 30 at 1pm ET
Where: We’ll be on Twitter – follow the #CDCvax hashtag to track the conversation. You can see the details and RSVP via this Twtvite: https://twtvite.com/cdcvax
Hashtag: #CDCvax
Hosts: @TheMotherhood, @TheMotherhood25, @CooperMunroe, @EmilyMcKhann
Your fellow co-hosts:
Amy, This Mama’s Life – @ThisMamas
Annie, Stowed Stuff – @anniestow
Deborah, The Truth About Motherhood – @TruthfulMommy
Donna, Blog by Donna – @DonnaChaffins
Jennifer, My Boys and Their Toys – @Lovesmytwoboys
Kathy, A Mom’s Impression – @amomsimpression
Kim, Two Kids and a Coupon – @2kidsandacoupon
Lori, A Day in Motherhood – @lomargie
Melissa, Sippy Cup Mom – @SippyCupMom
Sarah, Must Have Mom – @musthavemom

2014/04/29
Motherhood~ Misery peppered with Moments of Profound Bliss
Today, reaffirmed my definition of motherhood…Misery peppered with moments of profound Bliss. It was Mother’s Day and my husband and the girls agreed to let me sleep in.*Bliss.
I woke up at 8 am when the Big Guy walked into our bedroom, apparently the girls had woken up 3 times during the night and refused to bother me because it was Mother’s Day. So, the Big Guy was up all night with them, fell asleep at the end of their full sized bed curled up like a little dog. The exception being that he is not a tiny dog, he is a full grown, 6’5″ man. Can you say crick in the neck. He laid down, I woke up. He slept in til 1o and I got to listen to the girls fight over the 1 Barbie because the other 107 Barbies were not the ONE they both wanted to play with.*Misery
While he was sleeping in, I called my own Mom to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. The Big Guy woke up & decided to make my favorite breakfast, only the waffle maker is packed, we were out of the regular pancake mix and the kids nabbed all the bacon*misery But after he woke up, I walked into the kitchen and he had coffee made for me, just the way I like it.*Bliss
We’re having a showing next weekend so the yard needed to be mowed.My husband told me that I needed to take “pride” in my garden and go out there and pull the weeds *Effing misery (Mother’s DAY!!!) Homemade jewelry from the girls, accompanied by a list of all my great qualities and a hand drawn picture of how they see me and loads of kisses and hugs through out the day! *Bliss
Trying to brush Gabi’s hair after a long night of tossing and turning and her telling me 27 times that she hated me (ON MOTHER”S DAY) *Misery

A beautiful rose gold ring with a 2 carat amethyst surrounded by chocolate diamonds *Bliss

The Big Guy making a dinner of filet Mignon with mushrooms, lobster tail with butter sauce, fresh asparagus, and panzanella salad while I got to catch up on my DVRd shows *Bliss
The Big Guy having to leave Sunday night, leaving me with 2 sad little girls who cried for 3 hours straight, a sink full of dinner dishes and a dirty house that has to be shown in 4 days *Misery
Maybe I had it backwards, Motherhood~Bliss peppered with moments of profound misery!
Also, my official 2nd blog anniversary was Saturday and I almost missed it because we were celebrating the Big Guy’s birthday but never fear, I celebrated with a glass of Pinto Grigio and a sliver of Coconut cream pie!Do I know how to party or what? Hope you will all help me continue celebrating by stopping by and enjoying some of the amazing bloggers that will guest posting this month.

Today, I am hosting the Mother’s Day May Blog Tour 2011! Instead of celebrating moms for just one day this month, we’re celebrating them all month long with a blog tour! There are some really amazing bloggers on this thing, so be sure and follow along. Tomorrow’s featured blogger on the tour is Ani.
2011/05/09
How Bree Van de Kamp Ruined Motherhood
Ever wonder how Bree Van de Kamp ruined motherhood? She was a fictional character on Desperate Housewives but there are women out there who strive to be her. Everyone knows that trying to base your life off of an imagined character will only leave you falling short and disappointed. Isn’t being a mom hard enough all on its own?
Anyone who has ever read my blog knows that I am a huge advocate of sisterhood. I think that cat fights between women are ridiculous and that if we all spent a lot more time being real and supporting each other, life would be so much better for all of us. Why does motherhood and being a domestic goddess always have to be a competition? Can’t some of us be do-our-best mommies and domestic good-enoughers and that be it? Can’t we all just get along?
“My kid does this, does yours? My husband makes this much money, what does yours make? My house is bigger than yours. It truly is a pissing contest for women! I can keep the house immaculate, my kids listen to everything I say, sleep in their own beds, go to bed at a reasonable hour with no drama, they are reading at a 5th grade level @ the age of four, I eat but can not gain weight, my husband just keeps getting better looking, and my kids are absolute perfection, did I mention they eat absolutely everything I put in front of them. The laundry seems to do itself, I love to cook gourmet meals for every meal, I am completely organic, I made all the baby food and my babies only wore cloth diapers and drank organic, non tainted by caffeine or alcohol breasts milk. P.S. My shit doesn’t stink! I live in a mansion on the corner of bliss and perfection…or was that delusional and insanity? And you?” Yes, in my head competitive/ judgy moms speak in long, drawn out run on sentences. Take a breath already.
OK, Bree friggin Van de Kamp…you are not real, you are some convoluted conjuring of what some crazy tv exec thought real life is…not even in the 1950’s, my brother sister. If we’d stop trying to make the other moms think we have it all under control without even breaking a sweat, maybe, just maybe we’d have some back up in the trenches instead of one more enemy trying to kill our spirits and crush our souls.
As if that is not bad enough, that we are all running around lying to each other about how perfect and easy our lives are, we are inadvertently (or maybe purposefully) making other women (Mommies, specifically) feel like they are losers because they don’t think life is easy or perfect and neither are their kids and their husband. I mean, myself, I’ve actually winced at the prospect of having to go to the grocery store, been brought to tears trying to figure out what the hell to wear out in public to drop my kids off at some class or other, the dishes make me want to kill someone (actually just myself..I truly hate dishes! I am not above existing on paper products!), my girls still miraculously end up in our bed in the middle of the night, I have actually been reduced to feeding them cereal for dinner (only once..I promise)….though, I must confess, my kids are pretty perfect….to me! All kids are perfect to their parents! My point is my fellow desperate housewives, we would not all be so damn desperate if we could all just get along.
Next time you feel overcome with the need to blow crazy smoke up your own ass, in a coffee-induced fog of meanness, please remember the Mommy that you are making feel 2-inches tall would probably serve you better as a cheerleader than as a doormat. Stop spending your cocktail playdates talking about the new mom having a rough time disciplining her toddler; you used to be her.
PSA: Please be kind to your fellow mommies. She is not your enemy, she is your sister, your friend, your confidant, your tether to sanity.
I am bringing this post from the archives to remind us all that we need to support one another and grow a sisterhood through motherhood, not hurt one another by judging and pointing fingers.Moms could be the strongest group out there if we could only love and support one another. We are Mommies, hear us roar.
2011/03/14
The Inconvenient Truth about Patrick Crusius, Guns and Racism in America
I went to church this morning and I prayed for all of us. After the mass shootings in El Paso, Texas by Patrick Crusius that left 20 murdered in cold blood and dozens injured, I was feeling hopeless and then intense anger. A wave of anger that I haven’t felt since Sandyhook. It’s rage. If you’re indifferent to this violence or you’re not enraged enough to be motivated to act, why? Help me to understand your silence. Why are guns and racism still plaguing our nation? This is the inconvenient truth about Patrick Crusius, guns and racism in America.
At mass, I prayed for the families of all the people murdered this week by mass shooters. Yes, there was one every single day this week. Day after day, I got an alert on my phone and every day, I prayed. I prayed for all of you, to keep you safe. But the time for just praying has passed. We need action to protect our children.
READ ALSO: The Children of Sandyhook
As much as I love my country and my God, he can’t do everything. We’ve got to do our part. This keeps happening because we let it. We value our guns over other people’s lives. We have a million excuses why we should keep our guns, rather than change our behavior and save the lives of innocent people. Change is uncomfortable but isn’t the sacrifice worth it? People are hanging on to their guns like they’re their security blankets. They’re not.
For years, I’ve been clear on my stance on guns. I don’t like them. I hate them. They are dangerous because people are dangerous. People cannot be trusted to behave like responsible adults. They can’t be trusted to respect their fellow humans. People may pull the trigger but bullets from guns are what kill people. Those who allow this to keep happening are culpable. End of story.
READ ALSO: The Collateral Damage of Hate
I grew up with guns. Guns are for hunting and protecting, not killing and maiming the people you don’t like. You’re not allowed to grab your gun, take your sick mind full of hatred and anger and shoot at will. That’s not how this is supposed to work.
The right to bear arms was established at a time when we needed people to take up arms to defend our country against the enemy when we had no regulated or established military. The right to bear arms was not put into law to be used as a scapegoat for every low life lacking self-esteem and hating the world. Every prejudiced person with no friends should not be allowed to amass large quantities of ammunition and guns to shoot innocent people. Yes, innocent people.
READ ALSO: Zero Tolerance for Immigrants is Zero Tolerance for Humanity
Because a person is not like you, does not make them a criminal. Shopping at Walmart is not a criminal act. Attending a music festival should not mean gambling with your life. Going to church should not make you a sitting target and dancing and celebrating at a bar, should not mean that you are relinquishing your right to life. Our military fights abroad to keep us safe and free at home, not so crazed gunman can viciously murder us from within.
The real Inconvenient Truth about Patrick Crusius, Guns and Racism in America
I’ve been clear on my stance for years and I’ve prolifically called for us all to stand up for gun control for our children. I know that guns will never be banned but we need stricter control over who can get those guns, how many they can have at a time, how much ammunition they can buy, how those guns can be modified and where, when and why they can be used. There need to be consequences for breaking those mandates and a psychological evaluation made mandatory for every single person who wants to purchase a gun, of any kind, even a hunting rifle.
I’ve never minced my words but today, I am speechless. I am angry. I am disgusted and prayers are simply not enough. Yes, I too believe that through God all things are possible. I believe in the power of prayer but I also, firmly and absolutely, believe that God helps those who help themselves. We need to help ourselves. We need to take responsibility for our children’s safety by standing up for the right things. I don’t think any parent ever, under any circumstances, would choose a gun over their own child’s life under any conditions.
READ ALSO: Dear America
I am disgusted by all of these acts of domestic terrorism. But last night, when I read Patrick Crusius alleged hate-filled, anti-immigration manifesto, my anger hit a new level. It turned to rage. It spoke of a “Hispanic invasion of Texas.” It detailed a plan to separate America into territories by race. It warned that white people were being replaced by foreigners. Again, maybe this ignorant piece of racist garbage doesn’t know his history but Texas used to belong to Mexico. We were there first.
READ ALSO: What to do when Racism happens to your child
20 people were murdered on a Saturday morning and dozens injured for no other reason than Patrick Crusius was a small-minded, ignorant man, with a hate-filled heart who drove 10 hours to murder Mexicans. And he was able to do it because it’s so easy to get access to guns in the United States. A mother protecting her 2-month old son. Dead. An infant whose parents are left behind to live with the pain of the loss of a child. Dead. 18 more innocent people dead because this monster lives during a time where racism, bigotry and misogyny are not frowned upon but encouraged by our current state of affairs.
Patrick Crusius is only part of the problem. Guns and Racism in America are the disease.
How are we, any of us, but especially people of color supposed to feel safe when the color of our skin, our last names, the religion we follow is enough to make small men not only want to murder us but able to get a gun and do so?
We need good people, those who value all human life, who believe in freedom and equality in our country to stand up against the terrorists within our nation’s borders. Everyone is so focused on keeping the brown people out that you are locking us in with hate-fueled, narrow-minded, homegrown terrorists and giving them guns at will. How are any of us supposed to survive this?

2019/08/04
The Truth About Life After a Miscarriage

Yesterday, I saw that one of my friends has been posting articles about miscarriage on her Facebook page. Then, I noticed there were more instances where she had shared about this topic. She never said she had one and they were not scholarly or medical articles, they were the kind of articles those of us who have suffered one read. They were the kind of articles we read to make sense of it all. I recognized it because I’ve done the same and written many. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, she’s probably had a miscarriage and I didn’t know. After all, it’s not something you lead with in an introduction or just bring up out of the blue or at all, especially if you’re not a writer. I forget that sometimes.
I sat there staring at the screen blankly, hoping and praying that I hadn’t made any stupid comments or jokes like people have done to me over the years. Like me, she has 2 daughters in close proximity and like me, she’s probably gotten the, “when are you having another one?” or “when are you guys going for the little boy?” I’ve got to say, these questions always killed me just a little bit inside because I knew that we had been pregnant that third time and we miscarried. It stings but what am I going to do, explain to every single person that asks me that I miscarried? Spend the rest of my life being able to do nothing more than cry.
In the first place, it’s not everyone’s business. In the second place, it hurts to talk about it. It’s still a touchy subject for me and I’m not sure it ever won’t be. Some things change you forever. Plus, when I have told people, that still doesn’t guarantee that they won’t say something stupid. I’ve learned that when people are at a loss for what to say, they tend to fill the space with words that they should have kept to themselves. When does this stop hurting?
It’s been 4 years. This November, I should be celebrating a 4^th birthday for my youngest but instead, I will remember while everyone else has forgotten. No, I am not allowed that luxury. I can never forget; the feeling of loss, emptiness and sheer loneliness. I’ve never felt so lonely and alone as I did in those first days after my miscarriage. There were people there who tried to help but having my miscarriage felt as though I had been exiled off to a planet of one, everything else was just noise and none of it made sense.
I don’t cry anymore, not usually. I do think of my lost baby almost daily. If I see a child the age he/she would be or a family with three children or see my youngest with one of her younger cousins. Or when I see our last name and realize that my husband is the end of his line. I still feel like a failure like I did in those first few days.
That’s one of the worst parts of a miscarriage, feeling like your body failed you and betrayed the life you were supposed to bring forth into the world.
I’ve talked about this to my husband and I don’t think he understands exactly what I went through when I lost our baby. For him, I lost a child that never was. For me, I lost the child that could have been; that already was. That loss broke me forever. I have not been the same. I used to feel like God himself betrayed me. This betrayal scarred me too much to ever try again. I knew then and I know now that I cannot survive the pain of a new loss. I’ve still not recovered from the last time.
People who haven’t had the misfortune of losing a child have said the most unthinkable things to me like… “there must have been something wrong with the baby”, “it must not have been meant to be” and, the absolute worst, “in a way, aren’t you relieved?” And the ever popular, “one of these days when you go to heaven, you’ll get to hold your baby.” I know the intention is well but have you ever thought for one moment that the possibility of holding a child in heaven is a poor substitute for getting to hold him/her everyday here on earth? Every time I’ve heard any of these comments, I’ve had to choke back the tears and stifle my rage. Why would you ever say these things to someone, especially a grieving mother? And no, there is no time limit on grief. I can’t just get over it.
Which brings me back to why I wrote this piece in the first place, I pray I never ask any woman who experienced a loss when she is going to try for that next baby (because I probably have without knowing it). I know how even the mention of a new baby after a loss feels like a kick to the guts and I never want to be the person who kicks another mom when she’s down. The scary truth is that we don’t get over it, ever. Getting pregnant again, for some of us, is unthinkable and, for others, one of the scariest things we will ever face.
And to all the moms who have lost their babies, I don’t know when it stops hurting or when we get to stop feeling like a raw nerve, maybe never, but I’m here and I’ve been where you are. I see you. I know the hurt that lives in your heart and I am sorry that any of us ever had to know this reality. All we can do is keep living each day and carrying our lost babies hearts in our hearts. They were here. You are their mothers, forever and for always.
This is my truth about miscarriage.
2016/07/19
Mommy’s getting her Truth on
I have prided myself on my honesty on this blog. It’s what I do, it’s who I am, it’s what I expect from others. But I feel like lately, I have found myself using a filter. Which is completely unlike me and out of character. It wasn’t a conscious choice, it was one of those things where I knew people might be looking at the blog for opportunities and so I subconsciously tried to write for an audience.
Look, I love that you people read my verbal diarrhea and Mommy brain spouts but if I am trying to filter, its not me.It’s not as real as I want it to be, as I am. I feel like you people can tell it. You can feel that I am holding something back. I feel that my writing is suffering. So, from now on, I am consciously removing the filter.
I’m not talking about explicit language ( any more than usual) or graphic photos ( Jeez, it is still a Mommy blog after all) but I don’t want to worry about a bottom line. I want get back to why I started this blog, to share my experiences, to write and to gain a community built on truth, honesty and sisterhood through motherhood.
I hope you’ll stick around.Sorry I’ve been such a douche canoe lately .Life’s been piling some shit on my plate and I’ve been wading through the murky waters of life trying to figure out how to deal with it all. I’m back now; without the filter!Happy Mothering! Pass it on:)
2011/02/01
Kids Grow Up
Today, I have the pleasure of sharing with you the awesomely wonderful and ever mentoring GiGi, of A Kludgy Mom. GiGi is the true living example of sisterhood through motherhood. She is not only a fabulous writer with her hands into about just about everything on the inter-webs these days ( she’s an overachiever folks), she has been a rock solid mentor for me. I’ve never met someone who has so little time but has such a giant heart that she is makes time to be generous with her time to help a friend. If you don’t already follow her, you are doing yourself a great disservice. She is witty, snarky, deep and amazing…depending on the day. Basically, she is always worth a read and a follow. Please check her out. Thank you GiGi for sharing your Truths about Motherhood today and helping me celebrate my 2 year Blogiversary. XO Debi

Dear Deb wanted me to write about MY truths about motherhood.
Do we have a year?
We are giant figures in the lives of our children, and yet, we are just a tiny thread in the quilt that is the community of mothers.
What do I know about motherhood? I know this.
There will always be a woman who had an easier childbirth than you. There will always be a woman who didn’t feel the baby come out, didn’t need drugs, cut her own umbilical cord and perhaps even performed her own c-Section while listening to Mozart and having her toes done by the in-hospital pedicurist.
There will always be a woman who had a more difficult childbirth than you. There will always be someone who was torn farther, bled more, went into labor earlier, had stronger contractions, and took a bigger dump than you. In front of a movie-star handsome ob-gyn.
And then, one day, the kid grows up, and none of that matters.
There will be times in the early days of motherhood that you drown in self-doubt. You will beat yourself up because you couldn’t breastfeed. You will beat yourself up because you’d like to take a break from nursing but can’t. You agonize over whether formula will cause your firstborn to grow up just like Jon Gosselin. You agonize over whether you will be ridiculed because you’ve chosen to breastfeed until your baby is 3 or 4.
And then, one day, the kid grows up, and none of that matters.
There will be moments where you secretly (or obviously) applaud yourself as your child achieves developmental milestones. You puff your chest out as you are congratulated at your toddler’s good behavior. You wear a self-satisfied grin as people call you a good parent. Because you know you are.
There will be moments when you are looked at funny because your kid is thrashing around on the floor at the mall because you wouldn’t buy her an Icee. You ignore whispers of “it’s all the parent’s fault.” You wonder where you went wrong.
And then, one day, the kid grows up, and none of that matters.
There will be times when you feel like every single minute of the day is a battle, your enemy tiny and silent. You will consider forcing food down his throat to get him to eat. You will bribe. You will time-out. You will spank, even though you swore you wouldn’t.
There will be times when your kid eats so much you can’t believe you raised such a greedy, gluttonous, insatiable pig. You will watch with disdain as giant hunks of steak and ice cream and broccoli get shoveled into his hungry mouth.
And then, one day, the kid grows up, and none of that matters.
There will be plans you develop to teach your kid the building blocks of learning, to stimulate curiosity.You flash card. You read. You sing in the car. You count peas. You take him to Sylvan at 13 months of age demanding why he doesn’t know his phone number yet.
There will be times that you are so damn tired of your kid asking why Santa wears red, why a beetle is called a beetle, how a remote control turns the TV on, whether he can dismantle his Nintendo with a screwdriver and who is Lady Gaga.
And then, one day, the kid grows up, and none of that matters.
In the end, it all boils down to one universal truth, doesn’t it?
Kids grow up.
Kids are born. We are offered the job of mothering. We accept.
They eat. They sleep. They grow. They learn. Much of it with our guidance, and much of it truly on their own.
We do the best we can.
Our obsessive focus on the minutiae of each mothering moment – positive or negative – seems silly in hindsight. Once-agonizing decisions that consume hours of our day fade into the blurred mosaic of memory. We are just moms.
Kids grow up. And none of that other stuff matters. Moms grow up, too.
2011/05/09
To A Night we’ll never forget
I’m sure you all are on pins and needles wondering just how my birthday celebration went, so I’m going to tell you..the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the TRUTH!
The day started off in a bit of a hectic haze. We were trying to get the house in some kind of order before the grandparents showed up for babysitting duty. God Bless ’em! Without these two beautiful souls, the birthday celebration would not have been even remotely possible.
After frantic running around like chickens with our heads chopped off, finally we were dressed, packed and ready to hit the road.Bella decided that at the point that I was walking out the door would be a fabulous time to cue the tears. Nothing like a raging case of Mommy guilt to start the journey off with. I was determined. I had tickets to the 3 pm production of Romeo and Juliet ( I will elaborate on that in an upcoming post) and I had to go. So, I gave the girls one last hug and kiss and left them for the first time ever overnight.
It was a long night, so I will just post a quick synopsis of the entire night. After the show, we hit the hotel for a quick change into our night in the city outfits. Mine consisted of a black and white dress, 5 inch heels and an application of my nighttime makeup.It really is a miracle what a difference a little bit of time and effort can make in your appearance and your self confidence.
This is me and my little sister sometime after dinner and a couple cocktails.

We had dinner at the fabulous Japonaise downtown. Where we all consumed obscene amounts of sushi, martinis, wine and saki. There was never a lull in the conversation. I was so content sitting in the corner surrounded by some of the people I love the most in the world, my sister and brother in law, my brother in law and his beautiful girlfriend, and my best friend/sister and her amazing husband and last but certainly not least, the love of my life, the Big Guy! As you can see from the picture above, I could not stop smiling all night long. I didn’t even care that I was turning 30 ( for the 8th time). I was in the moment and drinking it all in.
Dinner was followed by dancing at a Latin themed bar. By this time, we are all feeling pretty good. So good, in fact, that my feet were not even bothering me from wearing the 5 inch hooker heels for 5 hours at that point which I found to be a bit peculiar. I went with it. It felt amazing for 1 night to be looked at like I was a woman having a birthday, not a Mommy taxing children to and fro. Of course, you can take the Mommy out of the house but you can’t take the Mommy out of the woman. This became painfully aware while the girls and I were shaking our asses on the dance floor. There were 2 girls, probably about 21, dancing behind me and they kept bumping into me. At first, I ignored it. Then I couldn’t take it anymore. And what was my reaction? Imagine if you will, me 5’7″ ( without heels on) wearing those 5 inch hooker heels..towering above these girls at a whopping 6 foot tall. They were maybe 5’1″. I swiftly turn around, after being knocked almost off my feet for the 10th time..I bend down, pointing my finger and said, “Hey! You girls have got to stop this. You are going to knock someone down!” They said ,”OK, we’re sorry.” They looked completely shocked and that’s when I realized…I just scolded them on the dance floor. You know, like I would do a 3 and 5 year old. They stopped bumping into me, but they were giggling..probably because they thought I was crazy! Funny how if I would have been their age, I would have turned around and said “Look Bitch, stop bumping into me or I’m going to beat your ass!” Funny how being a mother changes you in the most unexpected ways. That and the fact that I’m pretty sure I would have fallen and killed myself had I gotten into a tussle in those shoes:)LOL
The night started to wind down, by this point the top of my foot had been hyper-extended due to an inordinate amount of time in the hooker heels ( which I absolutely adore by the way and will wear at any chance possible) but obviously my foot was remembering that I was not 21 anymore. We were down to 4 troopers left. I was savoring every single moment of this night. Then it happened, you know that moment when you lose all of your good senses and you do that one last stupid thing. Well, I decided to cap off the evening, we all needed two last shots; 1 of tequila and a lemon drop. Talk about buyers remorse! So, we toast to my birthday and we head to the dance floor. Almost immediately, I realized the shots may have been too much. I felt discombobulated, people were moving in slow motion. Then the next thing I remember was standing in the rain, barefooted waiting as my brother in law tried desperately to hail a cab at around 2 in the morning.Flash forward, I remember hugging on to the toilet for dear life. Yes, very mature behavior for someone of my age. Right? The next thing I can logically recollect was waking up, feeling like I had eaten a bowl of cotton, and had a splitting headache.
I decided that I needed to try and get mobile as we had a drive home and checkout was noon. I sucked it up and headed for a shower, after making a pit stop at my best friend the toilet and puking up what can only be classified as pea green bile, I finally got in the shower to wash away the sins of the previous night. I was feeling a little better..refreshed. Then it happened, as I was brushing my teeth…I noticed something looked out of place. Remember in the Hangover when they wake up the next morning and the one guy is missing his tooth? Well, I wasn’t missing a tooth! But I do have a mysterious black eye! After much piecing together of the last hours of the night,the Big Guy and I came to the conclusion that while I was hugging the toilet, I must have began to doze and slipped and hit my head on the toilet rim. Classy, right? Probably explains some of the headache, as well.Thank God its just on the outside rim of my eye, so it looks like I have eye make up on.Imagine trying to explain that one at kindergarten pick up at the catholic school. There you have it, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the unabridged absolutely embarrassing truth. But what a night it was…to a night we’ll never forget! Or is it remember?
Stu: “Why can’t we remember a godd*** thing from last night?”
Phil: “Because we obviously had a great f***ing time.”
2010/09/28
The TRUTH is Some Days Suck

I need your advice on how to deal with kids being home all summer? Yesterday, I was having a “poppin Xanax like they’re tic tacs” sort of day. Not really, but that’s definitely how I’ve been feeling. You know when you just feel like things are too much and swallowing you whole? Not in a depressed sort of a way. For me it’s a wheels spinning, engine stuck in neutral sort of feeling. It’s frustrating and emotionally exhausting. It makes me feel out of control and anyone who knows me, knows that I do not do well with feeling out of control. I’m like a heat seeking missile when it comes to this sort of situation, I will seek out control to the detriment of all else. Thankfully, I can feel myself amping up; the crazy has been kicked up a notch.
I’ve been “on” for about 2 weeks straight and I am in desperate need of some quiet alone time. Quick, someone send me to a corner for a timeout. We’ve been constantly busy this summer and I’ve been sandwiched in between my mom and my children, all three talking incessantly about nothing at all while I try to squeeze in deadlines around the fringes by waking up at the ass crack of dawn (I woke up at 4 a.m. this morning) and staying up way past midnight. The pretzels are making me thirsty!!!
I just want to be alone with my thoughts and get a furlough from this insanity that is my life. I’m feeling on edge and increasingly annoyed by things like loose hairs and the sound of people chewing their food. Is it wrong to want some peace? Just five minutes to myself or alone time with the Big Guy.
The constant chatter is waning on my nerves. I want to yell, blow shit up and go away but I can’t because that’s just not what one’s supposed to do (after the age of 2) in these situations plus where would I go? Everywhere I turn, there I am right smack dab in the middle of a shit sandwich with nowhere to go. I feel like I’m about to be eaten alive by it all.
I can’t even tune out mindlessly to television because inevitably someone will want to “talk”. For some reason, they feel the need to fill every second of silence with words. I just want to hear my own thoughts. The long sighs and exasperation in their breathing is becoming more than I can take. I’m beginning to feel like I’m failing every expectation and being rushed to nowhere. Case in point, yesterday afternoon they got ready to go someplace and decided to go wait in the car for me before I was even dressed. No pressure there.
I just need someone to tell me how to deal with kids being home all summer.
I realize that it sounds like I’m complaining when I should just be enjoying the summer with my family but the point is that even though they are “off”, I am not. I love them and I love seeing their beautiful little faces every day but they are making the mom guilt hit me hard. Inferiority is creeping it’s ugly little head into my mothering gig.
But then there are other moments when I hear my girls laughing hysterically as they jump on the trampoline with their friends, or we’re lying on the grass reading the BFG together under the summer trees or I get to enjoy wine slushies with my mom at a baseball game on a perfect June afternoon.
I still have work to be done and deadlines to be met. I need to find a balance. The only thing summer break means for me is that I’m working double time and a half with no sleep and my house is always full of extra people and if it isn’t I have two children on repeat telling me how bored they are and asking when can we go to the pool. Never, I want to yell. We can never go to the pool. I can’t tell you how excited I was to get the neighborhood email about the pool closure due to a “fecal accident” because I knew the kids wouldn’t touch that pool with a ten foot pole for at least a week. I was wrong, it was only a day and they were ready to wade in shit just to get to the clubhouse.
To make life even more strenuous, my youngest has a raging case of hypochondria. We know that we can’t watch movies where people or pets die but I made the mistake of forgetting that every sickness or health crisis she hears about or sees in a movie or reads in a book, she immediately believes that she has. This child doesn’t even know what WebMD is, heaven help us all when she finds out.
Last week, we watched Miracles from Heaven. I thought, happy ending and miracles should be fine. I loved it even though I sobbed through most of it because as a mother, I know the unrecoverable kick to the gut that watching a child you love suffer delivers. Unfortunately, my 9-year-old took away not the miracle of God’s healing powers as the moral of the story but instead, got it into her mind that she too must have a motility issue and it could be fatal, or maybe she’d get it later, or maybe one day, her child would be born and develop it.
It might sound funny. You might be chuckling. But I assure you, when your child is that sure that they are dying it is simultaneously heartbreaking and infuriating, when nothing is wrong. I’ve been trying to comfort her and assuage her fears. I tell her nothing is wrong but I understand her fears, then I assure her that I am taking note of how she is feeling and I will always take care of her. Then, I feel guilty for not taking her to the hospital immediately but we’ve been here before so I do my best. My nights are sleepless, my mom brain and heart are at battle and I’m torn between wanting to coddle her and wanting to shake her. In the end, I usually end up biting my tongue and just cuddling with her until she falls asleep. It might not be the best answer but it comforts her and eventually, her little mind lets go of the idea that people die.
I think I’m just tired, exhausted really. I need rest. A nap could probably do wonders for me right now. Is summer supposed to feel like a prison sentence? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all been bad. We’ve enjoyed a week of lots of fun memories being made together but yesterday just sucked. It happens.
I was looking so forward to this summer and it was going brilliantly and then it just wasn’t. The thing is I know that if it were just me and the kids, it would be awesome but as soon as you add to it any extra people, places or plans it becomes a chore. I don’t want my summers with my children to be a chore. There are so few left that they will be living here. I know the next few years will fly by, they always do. I want to soak up the goodness not want to drown my sorrows in Xanax and silence. So, I woke up at 4 a.m. this morning to get work done so that I can deliriously enjoy the rest of the day being furiously happy with the people I love most in this world, my daughters, my mother and the Big Guy. Wish me luck and health, patience and perspective.
It’s not all been bad. I’ve really enjoyed having my kids and my mom here to see the first thing in the morning and the last thing I see before I fall to sleep but every day can’t be awesome, some days just suck. But then there are moments like this when being there mom makes me happier than I deserve to be.

Don’t mom shame me, just leave a comment below and tell me how to deal with kids being home all summer.

2016/07/01