The TRUTH About Motherhood

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The Burden of Never Disappointing Your Child
How do you deal with the burden of never disappointing your child? A couple weeks ago, I almost bought sparklers for my girls and then I remembered that they could be dangerous. Sure, I played with sparklers every 4^th of July but why take the chance that my girls might get burned? Isn’t it my job to make sure they are always safe? Besides, the Big Guy put his foot down on sparklers, a long time ago. No sparklers for the girls so I put them back down and walked away. But it felt wrong. Why can’t they have sparklers? I loved sparklers. I survived.
There are things I did as a child that we’d never allow our daughters to do today. For instance, I stayed out until the street lights came on playing with my friends, completely unsupervised and survived. I walked to school alone with my little brother, when I was 7 (of course, later I found out that my mom was ninja stalking us all the way). I played with sparklers and lit firecrackers. We jumped in pools and beaches without floaties and ate food before checking labels.
There were no cellphones to keep constant contact, like the tether of a virtual umbilical cord. There were no seatbelt laws or car seat laws. My dad used to give me rides on the crossbar of his ten-speed. I learned to ride a bike, roller skate and ride a skateboard the hard way, without a helmet or pads. But I did learn more about skateboarding because of Free Skateshop.
My parents didn’t worry that I was watching too much television, playing too many video games or eating too much because I ate when I was hungry and I played outside as much as I could because what could be better than playing outside? Nothing!
My parents didn’t need to spy on my texts, emails and search history because they trusted me and I lived in the real world not the cyber world. All of my friends lived within walking distance and those I met on vacations, we stayed in contact by writing letters. Life involved meeting, talking to and interacting with actual people. My parents knew that.
There were no tantrums or eye rolling because I was raised with respect. I had daily chores. My parents weren’t afraid that I would break or they might offend me if I was asked to do my part an in return, I earned privileges like walking to the park with my friend. I played sports that were competitive and I knew grades were earned by hard work.
Sure, sometimes it sucked not getting what I wanted but I learned at a very early age that to get what you want in this world, you have to work hard. You have to make sacrifices and no, it didn’t kill me.
I’ve spent my entire parenting life trying to make sure that my kids had the best of everything; everything I never had. I wanted their memories to be filled with happy times and recollections of all the things I did right. I wanted to eliminate any pain or disappointment but that’s impossible and impractical. I wanted them to survive childhood but I don’t want that anymore. I want them to enjoy childhood. I want them to thrive at it.
The other day, I was thinking what a magical childhood I am providing for my girls. It’s not perfect but they have never wanted for anything. I’ve raised them to believe that they can have everything if they are willing to work for it but I’m not sure they even can comprehend what that means because I have encapsulated them in a happy bubble where life is easy and everything is given to them. They are living in utopia but is this really the best thing I can do for my children? I don’t think so.
You’ve heard the Longfellow quote, into each life a little rain must fall? I’m starting to believe that maybe we do need to experience a little hardship in life to truly appreciate the gifts. Life has come so easy for my girls because they have always had me as their advocate, and that will never change, but I don’t think they get what it really feels like to accomplish something on their own; to really want something, to go after it and to enjoy the moment of victory…of earning it on their own, of true success. That makes me feel like I’m failing as a parent.
What do you think? How do we give our children the childhood we think they deserve without taking away their appreciation for the simple things in life, like sparklers?
How do you deal with the burden of never disappointing your child?
2015/07/10
Is Your Religion Making You Stupid?
I’ve been doing a lot of praying over the past week and I have asked for your prayers and positive thoughts. Those prayers meant everything to me because I have a faith in God and I believe in the power of prayer. It gives me hope when otherwise, I would have none. It sustains me when otherwise I would give up. That means everything to me. So this morning while I was perusing Facebook and I came across an article shared by one of my friends titled Atheists ‘have higher IQs’: Their intelligence ‘makes them more likely to dismiss religion as irrational and unscientific’ it bothered me. I read the article and it argues …
“Atheists tend to be more intelligent than religious people, according to a US study. Researchers found that those with high IQs had greater self-control and were able to do more for themselves – so did not need the benefits that religion provides.
They also have better self-esteem and built more supportive relationships, the study authors said.
The conclusions were the result of a review of 63 scientific studies about religion and intelligence dating between 1928 and last year. In 53 of these there was a ‘reliable negative relation between intelligence and religiosity’. In just 10 was that relationship positive.
They defined intelligence as the ‘ability to reason, plan, solve problems, think abstractly, comprehend complex ideas, learn quickly, and learn from experience’.
In their conclusions, they said: ‘Most extant explanations (of a negative relation) share one central theme – the premise that religious beliefs are irrational, not anchored in science, not testable and, therefore, unappealing to intelligent people who ‘know better’.
‘Intelligent people typically spend more time in school – a form of self-regulation that may yield long-term benefits.
‘More intelligent people getting higher level jobs and better employment and higher salary may lead to higher self-esteem, and encourage personal control beliefs.’
Okay, so all of that being said, I am calling bullshit. I am religious and I am also intelligent. I don’t think that the two are mutually exclusive. And yes, I have proof that I am intelligent. I have graduate degrees and credible IQ scores. I have even taken theology courses on various religions but still, I believe in a God and my faith remains. This is why there is no conflict for me. At the core of my belief is that God created the universe and from there evolution happened. Time passed; people, the world and the universe have changed.
My faith was instilled when I was a small child. Yes, blind faith. I absorbed it all in and took it to my heart and gave myself over to it. I needed to believe there was something more. I’ve experienced hardships and I needed to believe in a savior if not, what was the point? Above all else, I believe that there is a God and through God, all things are possible. I see miracles every single day of my life and maybe they are all explainable by science but they are miracles to me nonetheless. Science and medicine are miracles to me. A baby being born is a miracle. Honest, raw, enduring, authentic, unconditional love is a damn miracle. The kindness of strangers is a miracle. All that being said, I know that man is only a man and I am cautiously skeptical of just about everyone.
Do I dismiss scientific facts? Not, at all. Do I dislike or judge atheists or people who are not of my own religion? No, because I also believe in choice and tolerance and everyone has their own choice to make. We live with our own choices so why should anyone else judge us? I judge people on how they behave and move through the world not by their labels. Many of my dearest friends and favorite people are Jewish, Hindi, Buddhists and every other religion and some of my friend’s don’t believe in God at all. Are they more or less intelligent than me? The answer is yes and yes because I don’t think your religious preference makes you intelligent or ignorant, your brain and nurturing do. How you act and behave with those beliefs is what determines that. Do I try to push my beliefs on anyone else? Never, because it’s a very personal. decision. Do I believe they will be damned or cast out of some afterlife utopia? No. I believe that God is tolerant and loving and I’m not dead so I have no proof about what happens after we die. Maybe we do just all go to the ground. Maybe we recycle and keep coming back until we get it right. Either way, I want to be kind to people. I want to live like every day is my last and I want them all to count, here on earth.
My faith in God is what gives me my faith in me. Through God all things are possible and through hard work and determination all things are possible for me. My faith is anchored in the belief that good people deserve good things. I know that life is not fair. I have experienced it first hand and I have questioned my faith. Believe me! But in the end, my faith is nourishment for my starving soul. My faith grants me serenity in this chaotic world of unpredictability.
My faith is based in my belief that doing the right thing is always right even if the other person chooses to reciprocate by doing the wrong thing to me, that is on them. I am only responsible for my actions and only accountable to my own conscience which maybe, that is what God really is, my moral compass. But when my fears and burdens are too great, faith allows me to hand them off to a higher place; to leave them on a shelf because worrying helps nothing. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t work to fix my issues first myself. I believe in modern medicine, working hard and doing good in the world. I believe in people. I trust in humanity. God helps those who help themselves.
I don’t expect to sit on my ass and hope for something/ someone to magically take care of me. For me, faith is hope. It is being able to have faith that good can come of even the worst of humanity. Having hope that when life looks dim and worthless, it can turn around. It helps me to see the good in people. How can that be bad or make me unintelligent? Naïve, maybe but I can’t believe that putting my faith in the good in people or the world is wrong.
Isn’t an atheist judging me to be ignorant because of my faith equally as offensive as a Christian judging an atheist to be the same for his lack there of?
2013/10/09
The Sisterhood of Motherhood
The sisterhood of motherhood, isn’t it a beautiful thing? Seriously, without it where would we be? My mom friends, that unbreakable sisterhood of motherhood, is what got me through those early days of motherhood. They were my tether to sanity.
When I first became a mom, it was the single most amazing and simultaneously most isolating thing that had ever happened to me. There is just something about bringing life into the world that takes a woman and elevates her expectations of the world. My first decision was to stay huddled in our home, safely away from any and all germs, until I absolutely had to leave the house; six weeks later for my check up.
Immediately, I began to hold everything to a higher standard, including myself. My mission in life became to not break the baby; the perfect, amazing, beautiful creature whom I had just brought into the world. It’s a lot of pressure.
Motherhood gives you a new perspective of the world; more insight, more tolerance, more love and bravery like you’ve never known before.
Suddenly, I was fully aware that I was the keeper of this miracle. She was given to us perfect and any defects from here on out, was strictly on us. I was responsible for what kind of human being this sweet smelling, cooing, and loving little soul would become. It was overwhelming.
My first responsibility was to my child but once we left our bubble and went out into the real world, I realized that there are a million different ways to be a mom and how could I know for sure that my way was the best way? Keep the baby alive. That was my mantra.
Those first few years of motherhood felt like a constant “do I cut the red wire or the blue wire?” situation.
Only the ramifications were much worse than a simple explosion, I could ruin an entire human being’s life by making the wrong choice.
Okay, who thought it was a good idea to let me leave the hospital with this baby? I want to see some credentials because, clearly, they had no idea what they were doing giving a baby to me. Breathe!
I didn’t get much sleep in those days. It took a lot of time and effort doing the best I could and even more time comparing myself to other moms, not because I thought I was right but because I was sure I was doing it wrong.
By the time we started Kindermusik classes at 9-months, because a mom at the pediatrician’s office gave me a crazed look when I told her that my baby wasn’t taking any classes, I couldn’t get enough of what other mother’s had to say about the subject of motherhood. I wanted to be the best that I could be for my daughter so I was open to anything but there were so many conflicting parenting techniques. Every mom I met seemed to have a handle on parenting her child and still I felt like I was floundering, now more than ever.
Every other mom seemed to be better at motherhood than I was in those days.
I took mental checklists in those days. Breastfed. Check. Tried to anyways. Had problems producing and used an SNS to help. Check. Drank all the Fenugreek. Failed miserably. Check. Formula. Check. Bad mom. Double Check.
I used disposable diapers. Check. Never used a binky but she could not be parted from her lovie. (Still can’t.)Check. Co-slept. Check. Never stopped. Double check. Rolled over at 3-months. Check. Rolled right off the bed. Double Check. Bad mom. Check. Sat up at 5-months. Check. Started crawling at 7-months. Check. Crawled backwards. Check minus. Started talking at 6-months. Check. Started walking at 10-months. Check. Never wanted to leave my side. Check. Frequently woke up during the night while teething and demanded the Wiggles. Double check. I let her because the crying at 3 a.m. was killing me. Bad mom. Check again.
But every mom I met seemed to do everything just a little bit better with a little more ease and looked a lot better doing it. I met several moms who went back to work and had amazing careers and parenting seemed effortless while I, on the other hand, was completely overwhelmed, always tired and looked the part. The only thing I knew was that I adored my daughter and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to be the best parent possible to her. Really, I think that is how every mother feels.
Motherhood is hard, no matter who you are.

We’re just scared to let the other mothers know that we don’t know everything, it’s not all easy and some parts we don’t like or even understand. We pretend it’s easy because we don’t want to be labeled the “bad mom” the one who doesn’t know what she’s doing or worse, the one who is breaking her perfect child. It’s our biggest fear.
I’d like to think in times of true need, we would all rush to one another’s rescue. As I’ve moved past the new mother stage to the mom of elementary school aged children, I realized the truth and that was that we are all exactly the same. We’re all just trying to do our best and it’s hard for all of us at times. Some parts are easy for others and some parts are harder but in the end we all just really love our babies more than we know how to handle. We all just need to give one another a break because if we helped one another out rather than compared ourselves or judged each other, we’d all be happier and better moms. You’re not alone. We all make mistakes. Just keep loving your baby and doing your best.
When is a time that you felt at the end of your mommy rope and another mom came in with a kind word or action and made your day better?
05142015
This post about motherhood is sponsored by Similac. I was compensated for this post but all opinions are my own.
2017/03/01
The One Thing that All Mom’s Have in Common

No matter how hard we try as parents, sometimes we still have a parenting fail followed by the inevitable mommy guilt.
I stay-at-home with my girls. I have always stayed at home. There was a brief 6 month period while I was pregnant with Gabs that I worked outside of the home but other than that I have chosen to stay-at-home. I have worked from home the entire time but I have always been within an arm’s reach of my daughters when they were small.

I am the one who arranges everything just so. I make sure that birthday parties are exactly what they dreamed they would be. I am the one who plans vacations. I am the one make sure Christmas morning is everything they could ever imagine. I am the same person who pulls teeth, kisses booboos, wakes in the middle of the night for every fever and puke filled moment of it. I am the one who reassures them that there are no chickens or lemurs hiding under their bed.

I am the one who makes their favorite meal. Knows their minds before they speak and knows when to hug instead of lecture. I notice the innuendos. I see the trembling lips. I know when they are fibbing or scared or nervous. I know every crease and crevice of their face and every curve of their existence. I like being that mom.
I put broken hearts back together when daddy had to leave back to Iowa. I explained the unexplainable to toddlers and when they didn’t understand, I took the brunt of their frustration and held them as their tiny broken hearts tried to make sense of it all. I cried in silence after they went to bed that maybe I had made the wrong choice.
I’ve kissed the tops of their heads and rubbed their backs as they’ve fallen asleep more times than I can count. I wake in the middle of the night to make sure they are breathing and covered. I listen when they think I am not. I make their favorite meal when they least expect it and most need it. I cuddle randomly and with wild abandon. I tell them I love them like every day is my last chance.
I was there for their first word, first tooth, first step, first breath and first heartbeat. I always want to be there for everything. I want them to know that I am forever their soft place to land. It’s never just them against the world because I am always there beside them, when they need me.
I’ve never missed a ballet or tap observation, rehearsal or Nutcracker performance. I volunteer backstage. I’ve never missed a school party, field trip or mass they’ve participated in. I am their room mom. I drive on every field trip. Never missed a soccer match, swim practice or field day. I have scheduled my life to be there for those moments. For me, there is nothing more important.
I want to show them the world and teach them to live in it, proactively. I want them to go after their dreams and know that they can do anything. I also want them to know that no matter how old they get or how far they go, I am here. I am proud of them and they are loved beyond comprehension no matter where life takes them or who they become.
I’ve never missed anything…until today. Tonight, I sent my girls off to tap class with the Big Guy like I do every Tuesday evening. I take them to ballet on Wednesdays and we alternate rehearsals. Tonight, my little one asked me if I could go instead. I said no because 1) I have a terrible migraine but 2) I have to work the book fair tomorrow morning and I needed to get some work done tonight. Then 20 minutes later, I received a text that tonight was observation night. I’ve never missed an observation night; not in 7 years. I am the crazy mom with the camera, the phone and the video recorder but not tonight.

Tonight, I dropped the ball. Maybe it was the migraine. Maybe it was the girls being sick the last 2 weeks. Maybe it was the hurried rush of the weekend. All I know is that in that moment that I looked down and saw that text, my heart broke because I missed my first “FIRST” ever because tonight was Gabs’ first tap observation. So, I’m sitting here sobbing, feeling like the world’s biggest failure.
I guess every mother has this moment of reckoning. The moment that we realize that no matter how hard we try, how much we sacrifice or how much we want to we cannot protect our children from the world or be there for every moment. Eventually, they will have to do stuff on their own and we have to trust that we taught them and loved them enough to know they can and that just because we might not be there in person, our hearts are with them always but damn it still sure hurts missing those moments.

What was the parenting fail that you instantly wished you could do over?

2014/10/22
Mentally Ill Teen, Keith Vidal, Shot & Killed because Officer Had No Time for That
The family of 18-year-old, Keith Vidal, called their local police for help when their son was behaving erratically during a schizophrenic episode last Sunday night. The 18-year-old from Boiling Spring Lake, North Carolina, was first tasered by two police officers and on the ground when shot and killed by a third officer, Bryon Vassey, from the neighboring town of Southport.
According to this emotional video by Keith Vidal’s stepbrother, Mark Ryan Wilsey, Keith was recently diagnosed with Schizophrenia and was coping while dosing was being figured out.
Vidal’s father, Mark Wilsey, called the police Sunday night because his son was armed with an electric, six-inch screwdriver and was threatening his mother. According to the family the two officers had the situation under control, with the 100-pound Keith Vidal on the ground tasered, when Officer Vassey entered the premises and within 60 seconds said, “We don’t have time for this.” Then he shot Keith Vidal in the chest, killing him. I can’t get the disturbing image out of my head of someone putting down a lame dog.
Officer Vassey first said he was ‘defending himself,” only to later say through his lawyer he was defending another officer. How could deadly force be the only option when there are 3 officers and a Taser involved to subdue one skinny teenager?
My heart breaks for this family. Any person who has ever dealt with, loved with or been mentally ill knows that getting the right meds dosage is critical. Sometimes it takes months or even years to find the right dosage. Meds can alter your state of mind sometimes even worse than the mental illness itself.
This kid was 18-years-old and recently diagnosed. Can you imagine what a pill it is to swallow to be told that you have a mental illness and will be medicated for the rest of your life just to be “normal”? I can. When I was first diagnosed with Bipolar 1, I was at a point in my life where I had been ill for years with no help. No diagnosis. I felt irreparably broken. I felt alone and severed from everyone around me. I can’t even describe to you what it feels like to feel so broken. The closest I can compare it to would be like living in quick sand and you are being swallowed whole by the disease but the more you struggle to resist, to survive the deeper you sink and the more likely you are to lose yourself. It is terrifying because you don’t know why this is happening to you. Was it something you did or didn’t do?
When I finally got a diagnosis, I was terrified but relieved. Relieved that there was help to be had and to find that I wasn’t so broken as much as really bent. It was a struggle to get back to “normal”; whatever that is. I’m not sure I really know. Normal is relative, I suppose.
It took months of highs and lows. I was originally misdiagnosed as depressed and given enough anti-depressants to kill a horse, which made me ever increasingly manic. In the end, I was at the brink of psychosis. I saw madness. I felt it. Touched it. Lived it. It was the biggest part of me.
Eventually, anti-depressants were taken down to next to nothing; stabilizers and Ambien entered the picture. Where mania once ran rampant, now zombie like living: walking into walls and all-consuming lethargy had become part of who I was. After a few months, I was finally regulated and began to feel “normal” for the first time in years; maybe ever.
It all seems so cut and dry when you write it out but it’s not. The part I haven’t told you that before my medication dosage was right, I was highly erratic. I was like a ticking time bomb. What was going on inside my head was so distracting that it left me annoyed and irrationally angry with myself and everyone around me. Later, through therapy, I realized that the irritability was directly proportional to my mania. My body and mind were pissed off because no one ever turned the lights off. My body and mind were exhausted and there was no off switch to be had.
I did irrational things just to feel alive because I ALWAYS needed to feel alive; I drove fast, lived fast and never considered consequences. I teetered between feeling invincible and wanting to die. I drank a lot. I know now that I subconsciously did that to shut things off. It’s actually pretty common. I alienated family and friends because I overreacted to everything. Sometime between high school and college graduation, I had spun completely out of control. The insomnia was just fuel to the fire.
I fully accept responsibility for my behavior in those days though, honestly, I had no real control over a lot of it. I never wielded a weapon at my parents but I did throw a friend’s belongings off my balcony and came pretty damn close to tossing her as well during a particularly manic episode. I used to be quite good at pushing people away. I think I was afraid they’d see the real me and know something was “off ”. Even before I knew what it was, I knew something wasn’t right. I hoped and prayed that there was a reason for the behavior.
My whole point for this very long and drawn out story is that if you met me today, you’d know that I’m not the same person I was at 18, 21 or even 25. I am the mother of two, a wife, and even a room mother. I am just like you but maybe I wouldn’t be if someone decided that they had no time for me to get help; to learn to live with my diagnosis. Perhaps, this is the problem with the world, we resign ourselves to believe that those who are mentally ill are dangerous, less than or even worthless. We forget that they are people, just like you and I.Well, more like me than you, I suppose:) My point is that just because someone is mentally ill doesn’t mean they can’t be valuable members of society or good human beings. It only means that they might have a more difficult journey than the rest of us.
Officer Vassey might have been scared and felt threatened because sometimes in the midst of an episode, the person suffering looks scary. The fact remains that if two officers had Keith Vidal tasered on the ground, what possible reason could there have been to shoot him? Unlike me, Keith Vidal is dead and now, will never have the chance to learn to live with his disease; to grow up, to have a family, to be a dad or a husband.
What are your thoughts on this tragic story? What would you do if you were Keith Vidal parents?

2014/01/10
How to Say No & Not Feel Bad about it
You know what no one teaches us as children? How to say NO! Sure we may say “no” for a few years in obstinate defiance as children but soon, that is beaten out of us ( not literally but we are told over and over again that it’s not nice to say no!) We are taught from the time we are toddlers that to be pleasing in word, deed and action to those who surround us. We are even urged to look pleasing. Inadvertently, we are turned into yes to people. We are taught that to say no is to be disagreeable. “No” comes with a metric ton of guilt. But what no one tells you is that “no” can be empowering. We all need to learn how to say no, not feel bad about it and carry on. Guilt is overrated. I have enough guilt from drinking the Kool-Aid that’s told me there is such a thing as the “perfect parent”, when we all know the “perfect parent” is no more real than unicorns.
I’ve spent my entire life trying to fit in. That is what society dictates. To be “pleasing” is not the same as coloring my world all unicorns and rainbows but it is also not in your face instigation. I assume it comes from growing up in a household and a society where I was told regularly to ‘be quiet” as to not rock the boat or cause discourse. Why the fuck is it so important for everyone to like what everyone else says or wants? Once I really thought about it, sure who doesn’t like to be “liked” but then I thought, if I’m always saying yes to shit I hate, it’s all a big lie anyways and no ones pleased really; not the people I am saying yes to and certainly, not me. Not to mention, saying yes can become overwhelming and you will find yourself bogged down with things that you don’t want to do and missing opportunities that would be better suited to your life. This can happen in your career, school, family or friendships.
I’m sure the people pleasing started when I was a child. I wanted to make my parents happy like all children. I wanted to feel special among the 6 children they had. My claim to “special” child was pleasing disposition and great grades. I said yes, I did my chores, I did my homework and I strove for perfection in all areas. I thrived in the praise of , “Good job, Debi!” But then it was never enough. Parental approval became like a drug and soon I found myself feeling let down and never able to meet the standards.I just kept saying yes to please people, even though I was becoming completely miserable. In fact, I found myself finding excuses to refuse offers to go or do things because I just felt like me not wanting to was not a valid reason. It seemed selfish and warranted disapproval.
Why can’t we all just have our feelings without seeking validation from others. I have friends that I love but we don’t agree on politics or religion or even the color of the sky but we are friends still; we agree to disagree. I respect them as people and I respect their right to their opinion even if I don’t agree. I like hearing their perspectives. Hell, maybe I’ll learn something or they will point out something I never even thought of. I would never want a friend who only always said yes because if they only ever agreed with what I said, I’d have to wonder if they ever had a thought of their own and if they were genuine at all.
I know all this about myself and I am trying to break the involuntary response to placate others without ever considering first what I want. Still , on a regular basis people ask me to do stuff that I don’t want to do and do not benefit me in anyway and I say yes because I don’t want to hurt feelings, piss people off or I simply have no excuse to refuse other than I just don’t want to. Saying no doesn’t make you selfish. People do huge life changing things for the wrong reason all the time because they are afraid to say know. People marry the wrong person, take the wrong career path,stay in a marriage and even have children because it was what was expected of them. That is just not a good enough reason.
Who says no because they don’t want to unless they are a two-year-old throwing a tantrum? I am an adult and somehow saying no feels petty. Who wants to be thought of as petty? I often find myself frustrated and doing something I didn’t want to do but didn’t think I had the right to say no. Why can’t I say no? I don’t want to do it. I am an adult. I have the right to make a choice. The right to refuse. Remember to consider if when you say yes to others are you saying no to yourself? I am saying no from now on when I don’t want to do something and I refuse to qualify why to others.
Last week, it just clicked for me and someone asked me to do something that I didn’t want to and before I could even think about it, I said no. I caught myself and I felt embarrassed and guilty. It was a simple request from my husband to help him shovel the snow, during the blizzard. He never asks me to but there was a LOT of snow. But I was cold and the thought of shoveling snow that was 14 inches high and still falling felt too daunting a task and I wanted no part of it.I said no and I meant it. I think I shocked him. I eventually acquiesced and we shoveled together. Thank God, it may have killed him shoveling al that snow by himself. But when I said no, you can’t believe how happy it made me to say it out loud.
It starts with little things like, “Come on try a piece of this or that, just a taste.” You want to say no but why bother it’s only a small piece but then before you know it, it’s your virginity, your career, your happiness. It’s your life. When does it stop? We get into a habit of avoiding conflict and just saying yes. Say NO. What’s the worst that can happen? You inconvenience someone else? So what. Isn’t your happiness just as important as theirs.
Forgo the guilt and soak up the giddy excitement and sheer joy that comes with saying no. It’s invigorating to say no. Now, I understand why the two-year-olds love it so much. The liberation of saying no to something that you genuinely don’t want to do is one of the most . Consider yourselves, your wants and needs before you answer and if you don’t want to do something, feel free to confidently and graciously say no. Grinning and bearing it never made anyone happy and lying to get out of things is exhausting. Feel heard and know that you should never feel afraid to have an opinion. Somethings in life we have to do, even if we don’t like them because they are what is best for us. Guilt should not be a part of saying no.
How do you say no and not feel bad about it?
2014/01/13
Kindergarten Teacher, Thomas Washburn, Removes 6-Year-Old Girls Shirt in a Fit of Anger & Leaves her Exposed in Front of the Entire Class
An Arizona Kindergarten teacher, Thomas Washburn, faces 26 counts of indecent exposure and one count of child abuse after he allegedly removed a 6-year-old girl’s shirt and left her naked from the waist up in a packed classroom. He did what????
Thomas Washburn, 54, a teacher at Adams Elementary School in Mesa, Arizona was arrested Wednesday when the incident was reported by the little girl’s mom and is now on “PAID” leave. Meanwhile, the little girl is humiliated and traumatized. This man should be locked up in jail.
Police said that something upset Washburn, who then started shouting in the classroom filled with 24 kindergarteners and an adult aide. The loud outburst frightened the little girl so badly that she hid her face in the top of her shirt. I know, as parents, we sometimes have these moments of insanity where we do something unconventional but that is our own children and it doesn’t happen in front of 24 of their peers and we aren’t strange men ripping their clothes off and leaving them naked and exposed.
Further infuriated by the little girl’s behavior, Washburn told the little girl to take her face out of the shirt. When she did not comply, he took her shirt off of her, leaving her naked from the waist up in front of her classmates for about 10 minutes. The little girl began crying, presumably a combination of the fright of having her shirt ripped off of her by a crazed old man, someone she trusted, and being naked in front of her classmates. Eventually, the sonofabitch returned her clothes. This makes me want to bust this guy in the face with a ball bat. I’ve had a teacher pull my kindergartener to the front of the class to point out that her uniform was not to code and that was enough to make me livid. I not only approached the teacher and told her in no uncertain terms that she was to NEVER embarrass my child again but I even contacted the principal because, in my mind, this is not acceptable to do to a child. If she would have removed a piece of clothing or touched her, I’m certain I would have physically hurt her.
To make matters worse, the victim’s mother said her daughter was born prematurely and is “developmentally delayed.” This man is a piece of garbage and clearly does not need to be teaching in the classroom.
Ok, that was what the report said, more or less, now let me tell you what I think. You see I have a 6-year-old girl and believe me when I tell you that if a teacher, male or female, ripped my kids shirt off of her in a fit of rage or what the fuck ever was going on, this person should expect to feel the full wrath of myself and my husband. I’m saying this asshole should hide because I’d be at his house to collect him with a ball bat, take him to the mall and strip him down in front of the world to let him stand there on display with his bad attitude and his little dick in humiliation for the full ten minutes in which he let the child do the same and then I would beat him with the said bat. This asshole should not be allowed alone with children. He obviously has some sort of anger issue and has no clue as to how to handle an uncooperative child. He needs to lose his job and be punished for this for the rest of his life because by doing what he did, that will follow that little girl for the rest of her life. She will be afraid of grown men in positions of power and feel vulnerable and threatened. As far as I am concerned, this man is an animal and belongs in a cage.
If he couldn’t handle the crazy unrest of 6-year-olds than he should have stayed the hell out of a kindergarten classroom. He should have walked away. No matter what was going on in his life to make him have a bad day, his responsibility is to protect and teach those children and there is an expectation from those parents who are leaving their child in his care that he actually CARES for their child, not humiliates them in front of the class.
What would you do if a teacher did this to your 6-year-old?
2014/01/18
The Bush is Back and Pubic Hair is Everywhere
Ladies, have you heard? The BUSH is back! I don’t mean of the George W. or George Herbert or any other kind of political bush. I am talking about full-on 1970’s au natural pubic region BUSH! I write that in all caps because I was born in 1972, hit puberty in the 80’s and I don’t think I have ever grown in more than a landing strip. Bush is a big deal. It’s a game changer. Going back to bush is like a giant “Eff You!” to sexist mainstream society. It’s bra burning for 2014.
If you want proof that pubic hair is back in vogue, just watch last night’s episode of Girls in which Gaby Hoffman was rocking a way over grown, gratuitous bush. I was a little shocked to see a bush on the television because you just don’t see that. Then there was the American Apparel mannequins and recent interviews in which Cameron Diaz proclaimed that she is going back to her au natural state as did Gwyneth Paltrow. Looks like the over 40 set has decided to forgo the Brazilian and just see what happens.
Oh.MY.GOD.Becky, Look at that BUSH!
That is exactly what would have been heard round the locker rooms in the 80’s had anyone thought to go rogue and grow a full on 1970’s porn bush. I would have been laughed out of high school. It was bad enough my dad wouldn’t let me shave my legs and I had to rock tube socks to hide that fact. There was no way I was growing out a pubic area afro. I didn’t care how bad it itched when it grew back in or hurt when you got an ingrown hair, I didn’t even mind the lip slip of 1989. That was a close one, I almost lost a labia. But I survived with no bush and became stronger because of it.
Look if you were born in the 80’s, I am pretty sure that you have never seen a true full on bush unless you walked in on your grandma in the shower. Well, maybe if you are Amish, I am assuming that since you aren’t allowed to use zippers, razors are forbodden, as well. In which case, you know the bush and the tube socks, all to well.
I’ve been landscaping my nether regions since they began to grow in.I had no choice. It was what was expected. My pubic region has looked prepubescent for so many years that I’m not even sure if I could grow a full on bush. I mean, it kind of explains why my boobs took so long to grow in. If they were waiting for the pubic hair to come in fully as a sign to grow, I can see where the confusion came in.I suppose there are some benefits to a bush if you are over 50, to hide the wrinkles but then you would have gray hairs, right? That’s got to age you.
To be honest, with this new fad of full bush coming back, I am a little afraid that I will be completely out of style because it’s been so long since I have had any pubic hair, I may be in for quite the surprise like those men who purposely shave themselves bald in their 20’s as a fashion statement only to find in their 30’s that their hair will not grow back in and they are, in fact, now unintentionally bald. I’m afraid I may have landscaped myself right out of style in 2014.
Oh well, let’s be honest. I am not really too keen on the whole idea of bush anyways. I personally don’t relish the thought of looking like I have a midget with an afro in a headlock between my legs and not to be TMI,(though I just wrote an entire post on pubic hair) but some of us are just hairier than others. The thought of catching pubic hair on the sticky side of a panty liner sounds excruciating. I’m not even sure that I have panties equipped to handle a full bush. That sounds like a job for a younger girl with bigger panties and don’t even think about going commando with a bush because I am pretty sure that getting that thing caught in a zipper would be like pulling nose hairs.
But all joking aside, a woman’s beauty should never be wrapped up in what is between her legs and certainly not in its packaging. Hair grows on our bodies for a reason ( well, everything except for the upper lip hair I’m sure that’s just a cruel joke) and why would we want our women’s bodies to look like little girls? Hair is a personal thing, some of us like it long and some of us like it short and some like none at all. I say, do whatever makes YOU feel beautiful and whether that means being bald or wearing a thick, full afro between your legs, go on with your bad self!
So if you want to be in vogue in 2014, burn your bras, back away from the wax and razors and don your natural bush because baby, the bush is back.
What do you think of the new fashion of women growing in their body hair? Will you love the bush or leave it?
2014/01/20
In Honor of the 2014 Sochi Olympics
The Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics started last night and I couldn’t think of a better way to commemorate the event than by sharing this amazing video of 1000’s of Kentucky State High School Choir singers singing the American Anthem on the Balcony of the Hyatt Louisville. I only wish I could have seen it in person. As it is, my heart swelled with patriotism and for a few short minutes I forgot about all the bad in the world this week. This is super cool.
In case you missed it earlier this week, I tackled the #SpeakAmerican debacle. If you are in the mood for something less controversial, I gave you the low down on how to make some mommy friends ( because Lord knows, we all need them) and if you want a giggle ( because we all do) I wrote about Old Wives Tales of Pregnancy like wearing red panties during an eclipse to protect your unborn baby or if you are in the mood for a good cry, I wrote this about loss on HuffPo.
2014/02/07
The Soundtrack of My Life ; Audio Fest is Happening at Best Buy!
Ever wonder what the soundtrack of your life would sound like played out loud in stereo?
Recently, I had the opportunity to work with Best Buy and review a JBL Flip Portable Stereo Speaker that works with most bluetooth-enabled devices. This JBL streams music wirelessly from your phone/tablet/laptop, its portable and has a speaker-phone, built-in microphone and call-answer button that lets you easily take phone calls. It is about the size of a Coke can but packs the speaker punch of what my full size boom box used to; all the sound with none of the bulkiness.
I was born in the 70’s to parents who defined who they were by the music they listened to. My earliest memories are of my mom singing the Mama’s and Papa’s to me as a very young toddler. Fond memories of my dad strumming his guitar and singing Johnny Cash are part of the soundtrack of my life. Music has always been an integral part of who I am.
My formative years happened in the 80’s. I remember from the time I was old enough to earn an allowance, every single cent of it went towards buying cassette tapes, compact discs and concert tickets. I remember begging my parents for extra chores or to let me babysit so that I could earn some extra money. Every penny went towards music; buying blank cassettes or the biggest boom box that I could find.
Music was an obsession. It was my comfort and refuge as a teen. If I was at the beach with friends, at the park with family or even taking a bath, my boom box was with me playing the soundtrack of my life. No matter what was going on in my life, I needed music to be playing in the background. Music was and is something I need in my life, at all times.
When I was in high school, music was my escape. In college, it defined me. There was a perfect song for everything I was feeling and experiencing. First loves, first heartbreaks, first taste of freedom, facing challenges, meeting the man I was going to marry and growing into the woman I would become. There was a song to fit each one. A song that , to this day, transports me back to that moment in time.
In those early days of marriage and motherhood, music was my constant companion. It lulled me to sleep when my husband traveled for work. I sang it to my pregnant belly while swaying and decorating the nursery. There has been a playlist for every major event in out life. I played music while we played and grew from a couple into a family.
Music plays and invokes feelings and memories. Songs are for my ears what photos are for my eyes, the keeper of our memories. Now, I share music with my girls. I have shared that love. We sing songs together in the car. We dedicate songs to one another. Music says the things our heart wants to say.
I want music playing with me at all times. A boom box doesn’t really seem like the best option in today’s world of technological advancement in which everything has gotten smaller and more portable. That’s one of the reasons that my JBL Flip Portable Stereo Speaker makes so much sense. It is compact and easily to take anywhere I go. Now, I can have music playing in the background at all times, just like I’ve always wanted it to be. I’ve had it for less than a week and it’s already been used to lull kids to sleep, keep me dancing while I cooked dinner, accompany me while I sung in the shower and was the official Frozen Soundtrack player at my daughter’s birthday party. I am in love with it. Honestly and truly in love with it.
Beginning on March 2nd through April 4, 2014, Best Buy will be hosting March Audio Fest. It will feature one month of fabulous deals on every audio product your heart and ears could ever desire.
We’ve made a lot of our big audio purchases at Best Buy because I like being able to test and try out the products before I buy them. I like to know how loud my speakers are going to sound, how true to life my surround sound is going to feel and just how much noise can my headphones reduce? Who wouldn’t want to try before they buy? It’s being a smart consumer.
This week’s deals are as follows:
2x points on Sonos Home Theater
All AVRs on Sale
All iPod touch on sale
Save $80 on Samsung Blu-ray/Soundbar Bundle
Disclaimer: The reviewer has been compensated in the form of a Best Buy Gift Card and/or received the product/service at a reduced price or for free.
If you making the playlist for the soundtrack of your life, what would you include on the list?

Photo
2014/03/09