The TRUTH About Motherhood

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348 Days Since the October 7th Massacre on Israel:
It’s been 348 days. 348 days of anguish, fear, and heartbreak. 348 days since Hamas terrorists shattered the peace of a beautiful Shabbat morning in Israel, unleashing a wave of brutality that shocked the world. The October 7th massacre remains a raw wound on the psyche of Israel and the Jewish people worldwide, a stark reminder of the fragility of peace and the depths of human cruelty. There are still Israeli hostages in captivity.
On that fateful day, Hamas militants broke through the Gaza-Israel barrier, embarking on a rampage that would leave over 1,200 people dead, mostly civilians, and more than 240 taken hostage.
The scenes that unfolded were reminiscent of the darkest chapters in human history – families torn apart, communities devastated, and lives forever altered. I can’t even begin to fathom what these families and the hostages are going through. The strength and will to keep fighting; to keep waiting and to keep hoping, must be a special kind of hell to those families directly affected. The weight of this atrocity bears heavily on me, it must be soul crushing to those whose family members are being held hostage and used as pawns of negotiation by the terrorist and the Israeli government. This is precious life we are talking about, not inanimate bargaining chips. The hostages have people who love and care for them; who are waiting for them to return home.
Imagine, for a moment, that it was your family.
Your daughter, calling from a music festival, her voice trembling as she whispers that she’s been shot and is hiding in a bomb shelter. The line goes dead, and you’re left with the horrifying knowledge that you may never see her again. Or your elderly parents, peacefully enjoying their retirement in a kibbutz, suddenly ripped from their home and dragged across the border into Gaza. These aren’t just stories – they’re the reality for hundreds of Israeli families who have been living this nightmare for 348 agonizing days.
The brutality of the October 7th attacks cannot be overstated.
Hamas terrorists didn’t just kill – they reveled in their cruelty. They beheaded infants, burned families alive in their homes, and paraded naked, bloodied bodies through the streets of Gaza. The joy they took in the degradation of Jewish lives is a chilling echo of humanity’s darkest moments. It’s a stark reminder that the evil that fueled the Holocaust still exists in our world today.
As we mark this somber milestone, it’s crucial to remember that hostages are still being held by Hamas. According to Israeli information as of September 2024, Hamas holds 66 hostages believed to be alive and 35 bodies. For 348 days, their families have been living in a state of suspended animation, clinging to hope while fearing the worst. Every day is a battle against despair, every night a struggle against nightmares. The world may have moved on to the next headline, but for these families, time stopped on October 7th.
The plight of the hostages is a humanitarian crisis that transcends politics.
These are not bargaining chips or political leverage – they are human beings, with families who love them and futures that have been cruelly interrupted. Children who should be in school, young adults whose lives were just beginning, elderly individuals who deserve peace in their golden years – all are being held in conditions we can scarcely imagine.
As we grapple with the ongoing conflict, it’s important to acknowledge the complexity of the situation. The loss of innocent Palestinian lives in Gaza is a tragedy that cannot be ignored. Every civilian death, whether Israeli or Palestinian, is a loss for humanity. However, we must be clear: Hamas, not the Palestinian people, is the enemy. Hamas’s actions on October 7th and their continued use of human shields in Gaza demonstrate their utter disregard for human life – Palestinian and Israeli alike.
The international community must unite in condemning Hamas and demanding the immediate and unconditional release of all hostages. This is not a matter of politics – it’s a matter of basic human rights and dignity. We cannot allow the world to forget, to become complacent, or to accept this situation as the new normal.
As individuals, we have a responsibility to keep the memory of October 7th alive and to advocate for the hostages’ release. Contact your elected officials, share the stories of the hostages on social media, and participate in rallies and events to show your support. Let the families of the hostages know that they are not alone, that the world has not forgotten their loved ones.
To the families of the hostages:
Your strength and resilience in the face of unimaginable pain is an inspiration to us all. We stand with you, we grieve with you, and we will not rest until your loved ones are brought home.
To the hostages themselves, if by some miracle these words reach you:
The world has not forgotten you. We are fighting for you every day. Stay strong, hold onto hope, and know that you are in our hearts and prayers always.
As we mark 348 days since the October 7th massacre, let us renew our commitment to justice, peace, and the sanctity of human life. Let us work towards a future where such atrocities are unthinkable, where hatred gives way to understanding, and where all people can live in safety and dignity.
We must not lose hope. For the sake of the hostages, for the memory of those lost on October 7th, and for the future of Israelis and all mankind, we must continue to fight for justice, peace, and the triumph of humanity over hatred.
Bring them home. Every single innocent life is precious.
What you can do to help:
1. Contact your elected officials today. Demand that they prioritize the release of the Israeli hostages and condemn Hamas’s actions. Your voice matters.
2. Share the stories of the hostages on social media using the hashtags #BringThemHomeNow and #October7Massacre. Keep their names and faces in the public consciousness.
3. Participate in local rallies and events supporting Israel and the hostages. Show the world that we have not forgotten.
4. Donate to reputable organizations working to support the families of the hostages and victims of the October 7th attacks.
5. Educate yourself and others about the ongoing situation. Combat misinformation and promote understanding.
Remember, silence is complicity. Speak up, act now, and be part of the effort to bring the hostages home and prevent such atrocities from ever happening again.
2024/09/18
The Problem with Miley Cyrus is Robin Thicke
Okay, Miley Cyrus, I get it you are not Hannah Montana. After last night’s VMA’s everyone is wondering just what the hell went so wrong in Miley Cyrus’ young life that warranted last night’s performance. Was she over the top? Absolutely. Was she embarrassingly crass on stage? For sure! Has she not enough bootie to do the twerk justice? Indubitably. But is she some sort of anomaly who has gone completely off her respective Disney rocker? I’m going to say, probably not. Maybe but I seriously doubt it. My bigger concern was Robin Thicke , 36, in a Beetlejuice suit pushing his junk up on a twerking Miley Cyrus, 20. Ewww!!!! Can you say, dirty old man?
In my opinion, Miley Cyrus is not doing anything worse than most girls her age on college campuses and in clubs all over the country. I also have a sneaking suspicion that while “Molly” the lyric may have been banned from the VMAs by MTV, Molly the drug may not have been. The only difference between Miley and other 20-year-olds is that she is in the public eye and she used to be a Disney kid. You can’t be a Disney kid for the rest of your life, even Annetter Funicello got a little down and dirty with Frankie Avalon in those beach movies.Oh yeah, there was definitely some twerking like moves exhibited on the beach in bikinis, no less.
I’m starting to feel like either there is a Disney curse imposed on all young stars who dare leave the superpower or Disney is systematically taking all their deserters down. Selena Gomez, you better watch out. You might be next. I mean really where else can you go on the moral spectrum but down after Disney?
Get More:
2013 VMA, Artists.MTV, Music, Miley Cyrus
Miley Cyrus twerking, I find mildly offensive mostly because she has no ass to speak of but then again, I find twerking in general to be in bad taste. The Chucky Cheese furry leotard she was wearing when she took the stage with all the gyrating teddy bears surrounding her was really something my nightmares are made of but really did she do anything worse than Lady Gaga, Britney Spears or Madonna? Hell, no. She just happens to be a little more in your face about it. Miley Cyrus doesn’t just want to shed her Disney skin, she apparently really wants to full on destroy it, runit over and then back over it a couple of times. She never wants to be confused with Hannah Montana again. I mean who honestly wants to be type cast as everyone’s favorite crooning, saccharin southerner with a penchant for bubblegum snark and getting into I love Lucy like trouble, for the rest of your life?
She is growing up. She is not married. She is young and she was having fun. Not to mention, do you really think this was all her idea? You think she choreographed and put it all together? NO! Some adult, who probably has children themself, is capitalizing on what very well could be her breakdown. Or maybe she is the sanest young star in Hollywood ever. I don’t know. Either way, I love her new song and I found the performance funny and entertaining. She is an entertainer, right? You’ve seen the video? WTF did people expect?
Robin Thicke, however, is a married, grown ass man with a child, he should not have been pushing up onto a 20-year-old. But no one is saying boo about his behavior. Did the penguin suit give him pedophile immunity?Are we really such a woman hating society that instead of feeling sorry for the hot mess Miley Cyrus’ life appears to be, we judge her with impunity.If we really gave a shit wouldn’t someone try to help get her back on track? Where are her parents? Where did her fiance go? Doesn’t she have any friends? Where the hell is Leslie? Can we just stop with all the judging, she is the one who is going to have to live with doing these things.
As someone whose already been through the finding yourself process, I know I did some stupid shit only my “twerking phase” was not televised and exploited. It was limited to a few hundred people at a club or at a frat party but I certainly did some embarrassingly stupid things in my day; way worse than twerking and sticking my tongue out while dry humping a foam finger. As a woman, I know the early 20’s is exactly when this happens. Freedom plus alcohol equals bad judgment.
As a mother of girls, I know this can happen to any of our daughters. Do I hope my girls don’t go through this phase? Yes, I hope they bypass it all together. Will they? Probably not. Will I shame them and mock them? Never. Will I worry? Of course. But most of all, I will be there to catch them when they fall. I will be their soft place to land and I pray it doesn’t all end up on the evening news.
Miley Cyrus is not some out of control twerking fool. She is just someone who is 20 trying to figure out who the hell she is. Robin Thicke, however, has blurred the line between what is sexy and what is full on pervy.
Think what you may, you will not soon forget the Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke VMA performance for years to come and to semi quote Kevin Hart,
“Miley Cyrus might need a pregnancy test after her performance with Robin Thicke.”

2013/08/26
The True Story behind my Ghost Photo
Ever wonder how to catch a ghost in a photo? I know some people do. People want proof of the supernatural. I’ve seen some really cool ones of shadowy figures, legless confederate soldiers floating in a field and orbs but never anything like the one I caught in my photo of my toddler.
It seems like everyone these days have been touched by the supernatural. We live in a world where people enjoy having the piss scared out of them but ghost stories have never much scared me. Zombies are laughable, Vampires are a sexy fetish and werewolves are just big hairy dogs with bad attitudes.
Ghosts are snapshots of the past caught in a loop. Someone dies so suddenly that they don’t realize it and they get stuck but I don’t bother them and they don’t care about me. I know some people would quickly consult some psychics about what to do if they believe there’s a supernatural presence in their homes.
It’s the same way I think about aliens; maybe they’re out there but I don’t care. I’m not afraid. Life’s too short. I have real living breathing people problems to fixate on like Trump or crazed mass shooters. Who has time to look for ghosts?
I myself am a longtime lover of the horror genre. I watched my first horror movie in the theater when I was 7-years-old. My aunt and Uncle took my 5-year-old brother and I to see it with them. It was a baby swap. They swapped their newborn for the two of us. From then on, I got all my horror books and movies from my 16-year-old aunt. I loved it.
Not only did I watch the Exorcist when I was a kid, I even read the book. I devoured Stephen King. I watched every horror movie I could. They didn’t scare me so much as they intrigued me, with the exception of the Exorcist.
I’m Catholic, I was raised to believe in that shit so that one still scares me. The rest of it, it thrills me but no fear here. Hell, I may have even wished and tried to have telekinesis as a child, like Carrie. I’d totally endure pig blood prom to be able to move shit with my mind. But normally, I don’t believe in what’s not real. However, I may have been made into a believer at my last house.
Now, let me preface this by saying that our house was a new build. I’m leery about old houses because…hello, someone has definitely died in almost every old house. It’s inevitable. But this was a new build. Apparently, I clearly forgot about the Poltergeist loophole. Obviously, having children left me vulnerable and not on my haunted game.
When we lived in that house, the girls were really small. We bought the house when Bella was 5 months old; Gabi was born while we lived there. We live there until Bella was 6.
From the time we moved in, we had lights flicker and our ceiling fan light would come on by itself in the middle of the night. In our previous house (also a new build) stereos and lights would come on in the middle of the night too. The Big Guy always rational would make it all make sense to my superstitious mind.
I was exhausted from babies and the Big Guy would tell me that it was just probably some neighbor who had the same remote and it flipped our lights on. It never dawned on me to question why the hell the neighbor was waking up at 3 a.m. flipping on all the damn lights. I’d snuggle back into my co-sleeping baby and forget about it.
When the girls were about 2 and 4-years-old, the Big Guy had to go live in another state to work so that left me alone with the girls. No coincidence, this is also when I started my blog.
I’d stay up late at night writing and I’d always turn to the hallway where our bedrooms were because I kept catching glimpses of a little girl standing in the hall. I thought it was my girls. And every time, I would walk to the hallway and then enter the bedrooms and my girls were sleeping. They were never in the hallway. NEVER.
I remember having 2 am writing sessions where all the hair would stand up on my neck and I’d get the chills. I just assumed that my body was boycotting my insomniac self. You know how that happens sometimes. Your body gives you a big F you because it needs sleep.
Then there was the time my brothers and the Big Guy were in our media room in the basement late one-night playing video games. When it came time to shut it all down and all the lights were off, all 3 of them saw a red light moving around the room. There was no source. They checked. Again, the Big Guy reasoned it away. My little brother would never spend the night at my house after that.
When Gabs was old enough to stand, we’d catch her in her room sometimes standing in her crib jibber jabbing to the corner. Looking directly up into the corner like someone was there. It creeped me out, a lot but nothing really had happened. Maybe I was just being my usual superstitious Latina self. So, I crossed myself and pretended it wasn’t happening and it was all in my mind.
I’d bring it up to the Big Guy but every single time, his rational engineering mind would say it wasn’t so. In retrospect, I think he was just trying to stop me from becoming all out, balls to the wall drama queen hysterical.
Then after about a year of this happening, one day Gabs comes running into the living room and tells me, “Mommy, Bella just told me…..” and I looked at her and said, “Gabs, Bella’s not here. Remember, Bella is at Kindergarten?”
She looked at me dead serious and said, “No, mommy. I was just playing with her in my room.”
There.was.no.one.in.the.room. I don’t know who the hell she was playing with, but it wasn’t my 5-year-old who was not in the building.
That one freaked me out. Still, nothing tangible. Maybe a toddler with an overactive imagination. That’s good, right?
My husband was still living out of state 5-6 days a week. I was still alone. I had two little girls. I didn’t have time to be ghostbusting or looking for shit that wasn’t there. Plus, I believe that ghosts are snapshots. I’m not scared of some poor sucker that died so suddenly that they don’t realize that they’re gone and they can’t move on. I feel sorry for them. They don’t bother me. I don’t bother me. In case you were wondering about my policy on such things.
However, Exorcist scared the shit out of me. I still haven’t been able to watch The Conjuring again since the first time, when I couldn’t sleep for 2 weeks.
Then, one day my sweet toddler who was between 2-3 years old walked up to me while I was sitting in my kitchen chair. She was tiny, so I shot the photo at a down angle. No one else was in the room with us (that we could see).
When I saw the photo, a photo that she has still not seen and probably never will, I literally almost passed out. I legit freaked out like nothing before. My first instinct was that OMG, my husband was in an accident and died or something and this was his spirit…on a loop.
I frantically called my husband, in another state, but no answer which only intensified my belief that something terrible had happened to him. 5 hours later when I finally reached him ( he had been in meetings all day) I sent him the picture, to which he replied, “Gabs looks adorable!”
To which I responded, “Look next to her at.the.disembodied.head!!!!!!!”
Luckily, he was on his way home. I didn’t know what to do. You know that instinct you have set the house on fire and burn it down when you find a monster spider? Well, times that times a million and that’s how I felt. I felt invaded and vulnerable and scared. Was it trying to make contact? Had it already made contact with my baby? Was that who she was talking to?
And then, I learned to live with it. Many people have asked me why didn’t you leave the house. My answer is this, because I couldn’t. My husband lived in a tiny apartment in Iowa at a contracted job. The kids had school and commitments. I had commitments. We had friends and a life. I couldn’t let it all be toppled by a head that photobombed my baby. Right?
It was always in the back of my head. I got used to knowing that something that I couldn’t see but could feel was there. All those “probably nothing” moments became something but I had to choose to not live my life afraid. I had to put my money where my mouth was and not be afraid of ghosts.
I still don’t know who or what was in my house. I never tried to make contact. I’ve watched enough horror movies in my life to know better than to open a gateway of communication. It never bothered us, other than lights coming on and photobombing us this once.
I also stopped watching all of those paranormal investigation shows because, honestly, activity seemed to pick up around Halloween when we’d watch those shows. Maybe it was a coincidence but the first time the radio came on by itself blaring at 3 a.m., it was Halloween night.
We lived there for 2 more years, just me, the girls and our ghost. Yep, I was scared. Nope, I didn’t sleep but we survived. And hell yeah, capturing a ghost in a picture is a lot scarier and a lot less cool than one might think, especially when it is in your own house.
What would you have done if you snapped that photo in your house? Have you ever had a similar situation? What did you do? Please don’t share your opinion that spirits can attach to people, I’m trying to ignore the sound of someone walking around upstairs. I choose to believe it’s my old house settling.

P.S. If you know my Gabs, never speak of this photo to her. She doesn’t know it exists and it would probably freak her out.
2017/10/31
In honor of National Marriage Week
Love and Marriage ~ Apparently last week was National Marriage week. I, myself, was so deep in the throes of actually being in a Marriage that it completely escaped me. Well, to be honest, I never knew there was such a thing. But to be fair, I think it is a wonderful idea. I mean if we can celebrate Veterans Day and President’s Day, we can surely give some credit for those of us who have maintained a long and happy marriage, or maybe I should say those of us who make the decision daily to stick with it and be there and grow together through the thick and thin.Yes, that is marriage. It is choosing your best friend and planning a life together.
Marriage is more than Bells and Whistles
It’s not always like it was in the beginning, with all that new car smell and the fancy bells and whistles but it is definitely a worthwhile investment, if you choose wisely. It has come to my attention lately that most of my single friends have a similar response for why they are not yet married ( not that everyone needs to be married but these people I speak of have been close but never closed the deal) it seems that they expect it to always be in the “I can’t keep my hands off you, you’re the most awesome thing in the world, every moment I see you is like a Fijian sunset” phase. I know, my married friends reading this are chuckling and my single friends are saying , “yeah, so what?” The fact of the matter is this, that phase of marriage does not last (not at that intensity level) but something deeper evolves.
It may not appear like my husband and I can’t live without one another every second of every day these days but let me tell you..once you’ve been through several years of marriage, children being born, several moves, births, deaths, the entire world changing around you..you become one another’s beacon of love and hope. You are one another’s home. You are the place where the other can go and let down their guard and be the self they are when they are alone but they get to share it..with you.That is marriage.
Love+Hope+Happiness=Marriage
I wouldn’t trade the look in his eyes that I get now for the look that I got when we were two college hotties living to jump one anothers bones. No way! Now, he looks at me in awe…like I am amazing. He knows the fortitude and strength it takes to do what I do. To be the mother of his children, to love him no matter what, to get the things done that need to be done but he also knows that when I get dressed up and do my hair, nails, make up and we are alone, I can still be that girl in college. Its just that now, I keep him fed,clothed, make our house our home, and I am his. I still see him and want to jump his bones and he does mine, as well…just now its not the only thing that we feel and see when we look at one another.I’m not knocking my single friends, I just feel like if they are expecting the new car smell in a relationship to last forever..or worse yet, passing up happiness in search of that metaphoric “new car smell”, they may be missing out on something wonderful.
I have a theory about marriage, it relates to the housing market ( I have houses on the brain, since I’ve been searching for the past 6 months). Getting married is like buying a house, you find that house that you want to make your home and want to live forever. In reality, you may not live there forever but while you are there, it is a good investment. You make it your home, you create memories, you live and grow there. Someday, you may have to sell or want to upgrade but that home was a positive, wonderful thing in your life. It may have been where you had your children, or where you grew up yourself. It is where you lived the seasons of your life in love and security. Now, perpetual dating is like renting an apartment. You have a small commitment, no equity invested, and you can leave and upgrade or change apartments at anytime on a whim. There is no reason to stick out the rough times when the pipes are leaking, or the apartment no longer suits your furniture or lighting tastes. You simply walk away.
I personally hate apartment living, because I have lived in a house. Maybe I was meant to live in a house, but I need to be somewhere that is mine and I can invest my life , my time, my heart, and my sweat and tears into.Plus, as a sidebar, just a reminder, my single friends, its easier to break a lease than to sale a house.
Marriage is having your best friend at your side forever
2010/02/16
Never expect Silence when children are awake!
I know that it is crazy to expect to have a moment of peace and quiet to myself. I know that there are sacrifices to be made when you have children. I am on board with that. I was not so oblivious to think that my life would remain unchanged. I thought there would be changes. I knew things would never be the same, but I was not prepared for the magnitude; the depth and breadth of it all. When they were newborn, all my time was spend occupying their time. My life effectively became fulfilling their needs, and I did it joyfully. After all, what could be more beautiful then being the world to your child; in effect not only giving them life but now sustaining that life.In the beginning, that was amazing. Fast forward 4 years and add another child to that equation, and now I am the dancing monkey! Sometimes, I feel like they are truly on a quest to make me crazy. There is the 4 year old who will not listen to anything I say. She will look straight in your face as you tell her not to do something, and she will say,”OK, Mommy” And not 2 minutes later, she is committing the aforementioned crime, in spite of your best efforts. This is enough to frustrate Mother Teresa. Add to that the 2 year old, who is constantly scaling the walls and proving, time and again, that gravity truly exists and whom also repeats everything she says multiple times , at the top of her lungs, breaking the monotony only to scream in such a high pitched squeal that all the neighborhood dogs go onto a tempered rage.Do all this, and you have about 5 minutes of my glorious day. Please don’t think this is all there is to being the mother to my beautiful girls.They are, in fact, quite amazing. Sometimes though, even the most amazing child can be amazingly frustrating to you, when all you really need is a moment of silence to regroup and re energize. So, save yourself some aggravation and frustration and never expect silence when children are awake. Get your 5 minutes of quiet in before they wake. Live it, love it, learn it.Enjoy their spirit and rambunctiousness, and the fact that they want to be around you at all because soon that may not be the case.
2010/02/08
The TRUTH about Motherhood that No One Will Tell You

Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
When you were pregnant did you ever wonder what the hell the truth about motherhood was really going to be? Did any of us really consider what was about to happen or were we so overwrought with hormones and “mothering instincts” that we just assumed that it would all come naturally? Silly girl, I guess that was a lesson we all had to learn the hard way. That’s the funny thing about motherhood, it’s the most important job in the world and nature counts on us “learning as we go.” So strap on the biggest mom goggles you’ve got because life’s about to get mom colored.
I bet you never realized that motherhood is a club, more exclusive than the Junior League, the country club or any other social/philanthropic women’s club you’d ever encountered up until now. I know it seems like they let anyone in but they don’t. Sure lots of women can get pregnant and technically be a “mom” but there’s more to it than just egg meet sperm. It takes a tough broad to really by a mommy; to invest her life in such a thankless pursuit.
It’s called motherhood, full of bliss and insanity, and it’s situated right in the middle of a war. It’s like the middle east with screaming newborns and crying moms but instead of AK-47s we’re all being held hostage by one emotion; love…unconditional, never ending, all consuming, kiss your baby on the lips, eat half chewed up Cheerios and smell a baby’s butt in public…LOVE.
Welcome to the TRUTH about Motherhood
This is where I will give you the real, true to life play-by-play of this lunacy we call parenting. Believe me when I tell you that I never thought I would become this person. Before I was an actual mom, I was the best mom ever. I knew everything and had parenting down to a science but then actual living, breathing human beings entered the picture and all my thoughts on parenting went to shit.
Yes, there are many, many women in this club, from all countries and walks of life. Do you know of any other sorority where the initiation rite is growing and producing a human being? Seriously, that’s a little steep. It’s a never ending membership. Once you’ve joined, you’re a lifer and believe me it’s more stringent than any other club I belong to. It’s like being jumped into a gang. There is no way out. It’s a ’til death to we part sort of situation so hold on to your hats ladies, shit’s about to get real up in here.

The Real TRUTH about Motherhood
Once you are in the “Motherhood”, you are continuously scrutinized for your choices; from conception (whether its planned or a completely unexpected pregnancy), to delivery, what you wear, what your child wears, how you speak to your child, what classes you take and the lists goes on to infinity and beyond. Worse still, most other mothers never tell you the “truth” about how hard motherhood is but they will judge you for your mistakes. Double edged motherhood sword in the house. The secrets of motherhood are securely hidden from the newbies under lock and key by other mothers; being careful not to reveal an inkling of the real truth for fear that the species may cease to exist.
But I think we are tougher than that. I think we moms are stronger than we give ourselves credit for being and I think our best chance of being the best moms we can be to our children is through forging a real sisterhood through motherhood. There is strength in numbers and if we all just be real with one another, we can lift one another up. Help one another survive without too much guilt and a whole lot of beautiful memories.
You aren’t usually told the hard truth about pregnancy, labor, subsequent siblings, bedtime, discipline, after baby body or any of the other gruesome aspects of motherhood by your friends and neighbors. You will hear all about the awesomeness by your mom friends. You will have rainbows and unicorns coming out of your ass. But that’s not reality. I’m Debi, a very Truthful Mommy and this is the truth that your mothers, sisters and girlfriends might never tell you!
This is the beginning, so if you are ready for the TRUTH about motherhood, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, as it happens to me, stay tuned! I’ll be giving you the good, the bad, the ugly of motherhood. I’ll be irreverent and brutally honest, so hold on to your hats. Shit is about to get real. Welcome to The TRUTH about Motherhood. My TRUTH about Motherhood!

2009/05/07
ISIS Barbarically Murders Steven Sotloff & the Entire Internet Watches
ISIS beheaded Steven Sotloff and the world watched, no one intervened. We let it happen.There was no rescue.I am fairly sick over the fact that our world has become so desensitized to the vulgarity and cruelty of the world that not only was it allowed to happen, we were allowed to watch the video. It wasn’t just photo stills, it was his brutal murder. All we could do is sit stunned and watch. It made me sick in my stomach, just the way I felt the day I watched the planes crash into the World Trade Center.
The news is over saturated with entertainment. While sad, these things seem inconsequential in comparison to what happened to Steven Sotloff and the brutality with which it was carried out. Leaked photos are not a national crisis in comparison to beheadings. We live in a world today where reality television is a mainstay and we’re all flies on the wall of society. But still, we do nothing. Nothing has changed except that now we KNOW, we see the awful things happening in real time. It’s disgusting. We are going to raise a generation of desensitized children. Soon, beheadings will no longer shock us at all. One day, my children’s children will not be rattled to their core as I am today.
What are we doing? I just watched the video that ISIS released of the American Journalist, Steven Joel Sotloff, a human being, have his head cut off very crudely with a hunting knife in the dessert, by a masked ISIS executioner as restitution for what our government has done. The brutality and coldness with which the executioner beheaded another human being, snuffed his life out, was nothing short of evil. I am in shock.
“just as your missiles continue to strike our people, our knife will continue to strike the necks of your people”
I don’t know how these things happen. How people, the general public, become pawns of government politics and terrorists. This man was not a soldier. He did not go to a foreign land to fight. He posed no threat. He was just someone’s son, doing a job, and because he happened to be American in a country that hates Americans, he was murdered like an animal. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The executioner crudely and callously sawed his head off with a hand held knife. It wasn’t a smooth motion to slit a throat, it was a hack job. This took calculated effort and a desire to finish the job. It took hatred. There was no compassion or humanity. There wasn’t even the courtesy of an ax. There was only brutality.
The whole thing was filmed and at the end, there in the dirt lay some mother’s son murdered, dead in the sand with his head placed on top of his corpse in some disrespectful, cartoonish way like a trophied kill by a hunter only this wasn’t an animal, it was a human being. This man was someone’s everything. He didn’t deserve to be beheaded. He didn’t die in the name of his God or his convictions and beliefs, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and no one rescued him.
Right before Sotloff died, he spoke calmly to the camera speaking words that I am sure he was forced to say under extreme duress, but he was eerily calm and resigned to his fate. In the end, he didn’t even resist. I think he had given up or was sedated or perhaps, just refused to give his executioner that last satisfaction of his fear. He’d given up waiting for his hero to rescue him. Given up on living. Given up on trying and wishing and praying.
I hate the Internet for giving these terrorists a venue. I won’t share the video as I don’t want to be part of the problem and really, I am doing you a favor by not sharing it. Don’t look for it. I will never forget what I saw in that video. It shook me to my core. I can’t unsee what I just saw and I can’t stop crying for this poor man and his mother who so desperately begged for his release and his life. It was warned that Steven Joel Sotloff would be beheaded after journalist James Foley was beheaded two weeks ago. Still, Sotloff was not rescued. Our government did not heed the warnings. No one did anything, other than his mother who publicly begged for her son’s life. Now, she gets to see her son, who looks tired and gaunt, in his last minutes before he is murdered speaking his last words and then she has to watch helplessly as he is savagely butchered by a terrorist. And finally, the baby boy that she once held in her arms and soothed to sleep, is laid out on the floor like garbage as a warning to Americans.
I understand that we do not negotiate with terrorists but the longer we take to “develop military strategies” safely from within the U.S. borders, more innocent Americans ( real life human beings not ideas or policies) are being brutally murdered, in real time, by ISIS. Did we learn nothing from 9/11/01? What are our leaders waiting for, ISIS to come to our country and go door-to-door beheading innocents to prove their point? How many mother’s sons have to die before we do something?
Today, I am saddened , sickened and shocked with the world and more specifically by ISIS and the Internet. I pray for the family of Steven Joel Sotloff, especially his mother, whose heart I know is irreparably broken, that she can know peace in the knowledge that those assholes can no longer terrorize him or hurt him.
2014/09/02
Some Things Change You Forever
It was a sunny Monday morning. I had just dropped my 4 year-old off at preschool. I had approximately 2 hours to get to my OBs office and have her check me and tell me nothing was wrong. As I lay there alone on the cold, hard table in the ultrasound room, I expected nothing to be wrong. I had some spotting, as I had with both of my previous pregnancies. Both times previously, everything was fine. I had overreacted. I was 10 weeks and 4 days pregnant with our third child. I just needed the ultrasound and the confirmation that everything was okay and I could continue on with my full day of errands. I wasn’t scared at all. That’s why my husband wasn’t with me. I was wrong.
The ultrasound tech made idle chit chat, apologizing for the wand of the vaginal ultrasound and any pressure that I might be feeling. Then her face went white. I knew. But it had to be a mistake. She continued on in silence. Then the words came, as if in slow motion from across the world, “I’m so sorry, I can’t find your baby’s heartbeat.”
I was in shock. All I could think was, she must have done something wrong. There is a heartbeat; she just doesn’t know what she is doing. I lay there for a couple more minutes, paralyzed and horrified. Embarrassed and humiliated, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to die. I wanted to be dead with no heartbeat, just like my baby inside me. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t cry.
I was interrupted from my internal psychotic break by the ultrasound tech taking my hand softly and telling me, once again, how very sorry she was for my loss and that she would take me downstairs to see my obstetrician “the back way”. I know it was so I wouldn’t have to walk through the waiting room filled with beautiful round bellies full of life. I knew. But it felt like, I was being taken down the back stairs because I was not worthy.
My body had failed my baby and me. There was malfunction and all I could do was take one step at a time and try not falling to the ground and crying forever. It felt surreal like I was watching this happen to someone else. I was outside of my body as I found myself in the Ob waiting room downstairs, not sure if I should politely smile or cry at the other expecting mothers. I was jealous. I was pissed. I was hurt. I felt like my initial reaction of surprise to this pregnancy had somehow made me unworthy to hold my baby. I could not speak. I saw my doctor. She explained the situation. I could barely hear her through my own thoughts. My head was so congested from holding in my pain. I was afraid to open mouth because all of the emotion would come pouring out and drown us all.
I was physically aching. My legs were shaking, my mind was racing, my head was spinning and I was alone; more alone than I have ever been in my life. I needed to hear my husband’s voice. He had to be told. I was the only one who could make that call. He knew I was at the doctor’s office. We’d been here before. We worried for nothing. It was always fine. Not this time.
I dialed the number through my blurry vision, I heard his jovial voice on the other end, “How’s our baby?” I was silent. “Is everything ok?” his concern was palpable. I started to speak, but it didn’t sound like me. It couldn’t be me speaking those words. I opened my mouth and the words came out like a death sentence, “ We had a M…………” and then I began to sob in an uncontrollable and animalistic way in which I have never experienced before. I could not finish the word. It was choking me. I could not say it out loud because then it would be real and then my baby would be dead. The promise of our baby would be broken. Life would be different. I would be different. It would all be less. I would never get to hold my baby in my arms because my baby was gone.
How do you survive a miscarriage? You don’t. You are changed forever. On the day that you lose a child, you lose part of who you were and become someone new; different. Your destiny is changed. You will never be the same. Eventually, you learn to breathe again, you get up of the floor, you stop crying and you somehow carry on.
I wrote this in August on Scary Mommy but today is the day that I share exactly what happened on the hardest day of my life. Our babies who have gone on to heaven may not be here in our arms but they are always in our hearts. During National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, please remember what we can never forget.
photo credit: Jason A. Samfield via photopin cc
2012/10/15
What Happened to Those Two People?
Estimated reading time: 6 minutes
This morning, I sent the Big Guy a somewhat racy meme of a pumpkin who looked like she got shot in the eye in one of those sexy accidents that, to be honest, we haven’t had a lot of lately. His response was, instructing me to go look at a photo of us in a shadow box from when we first met and asking, “What happened to those two people ?”
I did as he instructed and a few things happened,
1. I realized that, damn, we have gained a lot of weight in the past 24 years together.
2. OH MY DAMN, we’ve been together 24 years. That’s half our lives. In fact, we’ve been together more of his life than we’ve been apart.
3. Wow. He thinks about these things too? I thought it was just me fixating and overthinking by myself.
4. Too many things like this pandemic, kids, dog, work, school, bills and responsibilities have made us lose sight of what we wanted from the start, to be together with one another; to be one another’s priority.
I think we’ve both been so tired and worn out from getting through day-to-day life that we haven’t had the energy left to dedicate the time to growing closer. It’s like we were and still are each other’s best friends, partner but we don’t get to enjoy one another as we used to and I think that is both of our faults. We’ve just been trying to put out the daily fires and that doesn’t leave much time for intimacy, relaxation or talking for just the sake of talking. Now, everything has a purpose, a finish line other than just enjoyment and it’s taking a toll.
The pandemic has put us all on edge. All of us have experienced anxiety and panic over the course of this pandemic. The girls are always home; first, they were virtual and now, they are often quarantined from exposure or actually sick with some kind of cold, virus or flu after living their life in masks for the past 19 months and suddenly being thrust into a world without masks or social distancing. I’m back in grad school which is stressful for a 40-something mom who hasn’t been in grad school in 16 years. The Big Guy toils away, in person, at work; braving the coronavirus, since about month 3 of the pandemic, so our bills could be paid and everything all of us do has been under duress. That makes laughing and lighthearted play, as a family and even more so as a couple, nearly impossible. Who can relax when people are literally getting sick and dying all around you?
We don’t look or feel like we did in 1997. What happened to those two people? I hardly ever get ready anymore. I’m usually at home in joggers, a sweatshirt and a top knot. No make-up. No products anywhere to be found. I just shower and moisturize. Hair cuts and color, manicures and pedicures are all luxuries that I can’t afford to do during a pandemic. He only goes to work so he’s not dressing for me either. I used to be the girl who took two hours every day to get ready; full hair and make-up. Exercising used to be a priority. Going out used to be fun. But now, all of those things feel like just one more thing to do on an already infinite to-do list. I’m tired and so is he. Tired of all the things we have to do.
What happened to those two people?
His question this morning made me realize that I want to find my way back to those two people who we unknowingly abandoned along the way. I know people change and relationships evolve but this is not what we both expected our marriage to be. We could just keep moving on this same path, at the same rate on this journey together and die of boredom and old age sometime in the future or we can put in the work to reclaim our passion for one another and ask the hard questions, change what needs to change and be bold. It will be scary as fuck because, 24 years is a long time, but doing nothing and expecting change is ridiculous. We want more together.
It’s going to have to start with talking to each other and discussing what we want, need, like and dislike in our relationship. We know that we love each other but we need to remember what we like about one another. What was it about us that made us inseparable from about day 4 of knowing one another? What was it that made us fall in love and believe we had found our soul mate within that first month? What magic was it that made him ask me to marry him and me say yes after just 4 months? I know that’s rare but it’s what happened. And no matter what we’re going through, even when he’s on my nerves ( or I’m on his), even when we don’t particularly like one another, we always love each other and he’s always my person. I hope I’m still his.
We’ve been so busy talking about the craziness of each day that we’ve forgotten to ask about each other’s hopes and dreams for a long time. Those things are important. A marriage can’t survive on autopilot. Yes, comfortable silences are nice and being able to be next to one another and know what the other one is thinking and feeling without saying a word, happy to just be, is wonderful but it’s not enough. We have to be willing to get uncomfortable to unlock that next level of intimacy. Because even though he is my best friend, my ride or die, we both deserve more than just someone to do stuff with. We need someone to look forward to doing things with fueled by a passion for one another and the life we are building together.
We’ve become complacent and comfortable and in doing so, maybe a little annoyed with one another, even though we’ve never said it out loud. We need a marriage reboot. I don’t want a sequel. He is it for me. So, we’re going on a quest to find those people in the shadow box. Has your marriage ever felt like it has become predictable? What did you do, as a couple, to jumpstart your marriage?
What happened to those two people?
2021/10/11
Tired of Wating Around? 6 Benefits of Learning to Do it Yourself
Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand waiting around for other people to do things for me. I’m not sure if that’s the control freak in me, me being the oldest child of six, being a mom or my type-A personality poking through but whatever it is, I prefer to be able to do things for myself. I love having people in my life that I can count on but I’m so independent that the occasion where I take advantage of having those people around, is few and far between. I pride myself on being capable, but I’m wise enough to also know my limitations.
As a homeowner, I’ve come to realize that every home is full of unexpected costs even if it’s a new build. Things come up that slowly but surely drain your savings accounts and sometimes, feel like a never-ending to-do list of repairs, replacements, cleaning, and just about everything else you can think of. If you’re like me, you’re probably tired (maybe even a little annoyed) of waiting around for the “handyman” (the Big Guy) to be available to do the things you need done.
Why keep waiting? If you’re reading this, you are a strong, capable woman who has probably grown and given birth to a human being, you can do hard things, Girl, you got this. Forget about waiting for someone else to do the things you want to be done. Learning to DIY is an excellent skill that means you never need to wait for someone else to do what needs to be done, ever again. You’re thinking, “But Debi if DIY is so simple, why isn’t everyone doing it?” Because some people prefer leaving things out of their wheelhouse to the professionals. I do too, in some instances. Let’s be honest, I can’t do everything. But if I can do it right, I’m all about rolling up my sleeves and learning to do it myself.
No More Waiting Around
The best reason to learn to do it yourself is so you don’t have to wait around for someone else to do something you are completely capable of doing. You might be surprised at how many repairs around the house are actually pretty easy to fix, whether you need to replace door handles or fix the dryer heater element to make sure everyone’s clothes are ready in time for school or at the very least they don’t go sour.
By taking a proactive approach to your home, you can overcome small issues quickly. You won’t need to put your life on hold while you wait for the repair company to come over, which means you can get on with it yourself and focus on the next repair.
Save Money and Time
Since you’re not waiting around any longer, you can save time, even if it takes you a little longer to repair it than it would a professional. Everyone has been there before where the repair company comes in, twists a nut or bolt, and leaves. You don’t need to waste their time (or your money) anymore.
This also makes saving money around the house so much easier. While some companies are happy to come out for free quotes, they will still charge you for the work and materials (especially with the price of gas right now) which is often much more than you’d have to pay if you did it yourself.
Learn a New Skill
Learning a new skill is always a great way to boost your knowledge and help you feel better about yourself. With so many DIY tasks simpler than you think, it’s easy to expand your horizons.
What’s more, as a student for life I can attest to the fact that the more you learn, the easier it is to learn other things, too. You can use your existing repair knowledge to identify different ways to approach problems around the house and fix them without causing significant damage.
Pass the Knowledge onto Your Kids
Parents always need to teach their kids how to survive in the real world. I mean they don’t even offer home ec in school anymore. And let’s be honest, without that class, most Gen X latch key kids might have starved to death. What would I have done without learning how to cook an egg in a basket and how to stitch and make my very own pillow? While our kids may not need DIY skills or other essential life skills right now, they will once they move out of our house, whether they go to college or find a place of their own on the other side of the country.
Learning DIY skills gives you a great chance to pass your knowledge on to them. They don’t need to help you out all the time, but asking them to be your assistant and encouraging them to watch will give them the basic knowledge they need to approach DIY safely. They’ll know to switch the water off at the source while fixing pipes, and they’ll also know to turn off the mains so that they don’t electrocute themselves. They’ll also build self-confidence from being self-reliant and if all else fails, they’ll know they can call mama for some advice because mama can get things done.
You will Be More Active
One under-appreciated benefit of DIY is how it can help you be more active. People often don’t think about all the heavy lifting or regular work, even if it doesn’t feel like hard work.
If you wish you could be more active but don’t love going to the gym or running, DIY could be an excellent way to burn some calories and move, and the more projects you attempt, the more intense and ambitious your activities become.
You Gain Respect
People love people who know what they are doing, especially if you don’t look like you have a handy bone in your body. If you want to surprise friends and strangers alike, learning DIY and coming to their rescue is a solution that’ll make you popular.
You might even be able to make some money off them once you show off your skills, as neighbors will be happy to pay you for your time, so they don’t need to wait around for the handyman.
Just Do It… Yourself
Learning DIY brings a wide range of benefits that can help your family just as much as it can help you. If you’re tired of waiting around for the handyman to get back to you and arrange an inspection or appointment, you can get ahead of all your home’s demands and upkeep by learning to fix common problems all by yourself, and you’ll be thankful you did.
2022/06/01