The TRUTH About Motherhood

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Sisterly Love; Absense makes the Wee Hearts grow Fonder
Bella & Gabs @ first day of Kindergarten pick up! Awwww!
It seems for the wee ones, absence does make the heart grow fonder. My girls are 2 years apart and they are best friends and enemies in any given 24 hour period. They seriously will be hugging and kissing on one another in one moment and in the next telling me how they wish they didn’t have the other. That was until Kindergarten. Oh blessed Kindergarten, that which has caused my girls to absolutely adore and fawn over one another. Every morning it is big strong hugs and kisses and when we pick our Bella up at half day, Gabs runs to her, Bella grabs her little sister, and picks her up in the most adorable pint sized embrace I’ve ever witnessed.I live for this moment. It makes me a little teary eyed. It may be one of the best things to happen to their relationship. They may come out as best friends and put this ” I wish I never had a sister” nonsense aside for good. A Mommy can hope.
OMG, Seriously, does it get any more precious than this? To ME, it does not!
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2010/08/24
How to Raise Brave Women and Compassionate Humans
As many of you know, I don’t often have posts written by guest writers but when I do, they are usually amazing writers with something important to say. Today, I have the privilege of sharing with you one of my dearest friends, Amanda Magee, who just happens to be one of the strongest, bravest, samrtest and kindest women I know. She also happens to be a damn great writer. She is a writer’s writer. Did I mention she is raising three amazing girls who I am sure will be the change they want to see in the world because that is exactly what their mom is exemplifying for them? Thank you, Amanda, for sharing your words and truth here. If you’d like to read more of Amanda, be sure to check her out on her blog.
A quick introduction, my name is Amanda Magee. I live in upstate New York where I own an advertising and communications agency and am raising three daughters. Deborah and I met by chance at a blogging conference a few years back. Over the years we have bonded over parenting daughters and being strong willed women in the world. She has invited me to write here a couple of times and despite my not having come through, she kept asking; the last time after I posted about our experience marching at an Anti-Trump rally with our daughters. I am so grateful for hearts, minds, and voices like Deborah’s.
A couple of years ago I found myself thinking that I knew how to forecast the years ahead. I bought into the idea that hormones were going to be the thing I had to focus on, but it wasn’t true. Yes, there are emotional highs and lows; yes, my three daughters are not yet in the thick of puberty at 8, 10, and 12, but what has become central to our reality is how we will navigate the world—not during our menstrual cycles, more in light of the fact that we (will) have menstrual cycles.
How do I raise brave women? How do I equip them with both confidence and suspicion? Is it possible to raise them to be good citizens and compassionate human beings in the same breath as I say that there are people who will break rules and take without asking? How do I tell them that they can make all the best decisions and still be hurt?
Zits and thigh gap? We’ll be fine, slurs muttered at the mention of homosexual family members and systemic defense and promotion of “boys will be boys” and “you shouldn’t be upset, he just wanted to talk to you,” those are the things that demand my attention.
Over the last year, I’ve begun to speak more plainly with my daughters and I’ll be honest, it’s been bittersweet. I wanted to give them the cocoon of childhood as long as I could, but when conversation on the bus turns to building a wall, grabbing pussies, and sending people away I have a choice, do I defer the world view shaping to other kids and influences or do I talk to them about the spectrum of views? I chose the latter.
I’ve never once painted one side of politics as evil and the other as benevolent, because despite being a lifelong, pro-choice, feminist liberal, I don’t hate Republicans or Conservatives. The only thing I really hate is hate, which is why we were an anti-Trump house and why we are committed to continuing to speak up against the motions that take us as a country to greater stances of division. It’s new territory for me, because I have always looked at the person holding the office of president as our leader. I cannot do that this time.
I am looking to people like Deborah, I am listening to black women, people from the trans community, I am questioning the decisions of lawmakers, and I am donating to organizations like Planned Parenthood and the Southern Poverty Law Center. We as a family are committing to being engaged at the local and regional level, not just every four years. We are reading books like Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls. I am heartbroken that so many people didn’t vote; I am distressed that many people, myself included, have had moments of silence that made them complicit in hate or systemic racism. We are choosing to adhere to a policy of living our beliefs out loud and in public, because the alternative is the kind of inaction that lets hate fester and threaten to overtake us all.
Photos Courtesy Amanda Magee
2016/11/23
What Dreams May Come
When you have a baby, you instantly have dreams for them, before they are ever born. It’s all part of loving them unconditionally. We want them to have, be and do everything they could ever dream of. We dream of a “perfect” life for them, one in which they enjoy all the good that the world has to offer. We dream of our children having lives filled with happiness, health, marriage, career success and 2.5 children. We have dreams of six figure salaries and big houses in gated communities. We dream of our children never having to want for anything and never feeling any of the world’s pain and hurt. In short, our dreams are big and beautiful but not very realistic.

I decided early on, after actually having children, that I couldn’t control what my daughters’ dreams were going to be. Their dreams are their dreams, not mine. The dreams I have, are my dreams for them and the two may not be anything alike and that is all right. I’ve streamlined my dreams for them, all I really want for my children are health and happiness; whatever their happiness may look like, I want them to have that. If there were room, I’d love for them to get to pursue their passions.

From the moment I found out that I was pregnant with little girls, my brain was flooded with pink, taffeta, tulle and hair bows as big as Gerbera daisies, ballet and all things girly. My head was swimming with all the possibilities to share with my girls; all the likes and dislikes. Like most parents, my children were, in a way, an opportunity to give them all that I never had and always wanted or to recreate all of my favorite memories from my own childhood. It was a chance to help someone else avoid making those mistakes that I had already experienced. I know, when I read it out loud it sounds like I’m some crazy stage mom. I’m not. I just always try to afford my daughters every opportunity that they want; every chance to be who they want to be.

I have two daughters. One daughter is all about everything prim, proper and princess. She loves the refinement of ballet, all things pink (in all shades) and the fancier and girlier something is, the better it is in her mind. She loves big full dresses and giant hair flowers. She fulfills every one of those fantasies I had when I first found out that I was pregnant with a girl. She is obedient, pensive, social, philanthropic and kind. She is very Audrey Hepburn. Everyone who meets her tells me what a pleasure she is to be around. I am proud of her. She says that when she grows up, she wants to be a fashion designer and a mother of 4. She wants it all and I respect that but I know there will be choices that will have to be made with those dreams; sacrifices to be made.

My youngest daughter loves blue and green, which also happen to be my favorite colors. She is a little tomboyish and rough around the edges but she is 100% genuine all the time. She can’t tell a lie to save her life and she wears her heart on her sleeve and her every mood on her face. She is honest to a fault and fierce beyond any sass I have ever seen on another child her age. She is gruff but she is graceful and I see a lot of Grace Kelly beneath that somewhat wild first impression. When she dances, it’s like a soft breeze blowing off the ocean. She loves animals and says when she grows up she wants to go to Purdue (where her father and I went) and be a veterinarian. She’s 7 but she says she’s not sure she wants kids. I know this might change but it also might not.

Their dreams are big and beautiful in their own way. I hope they get everything they desire out of life but, as their mother, all I really want them to have is health, love and happiness. I don’t care who it’s with or whether they have children or not or where they live or who they marry or what they do; all I want for them is loads and loads of good health and happiness. All the rest is not my dream to have.

Speaking of Dreams Coming True,

Disney’s Ultimate Fairy Tale, Disney’s Sleeping Beauty Diamond Edition will be released on Blu-ray™ and Digital HD for the first time on October 7, 2014. So why not create some memories that will last a lifetime with Disney’s illustrious #SleepingBeauty- a must own for every family’s classic collection, and order now!

What is your dream for your child?

Photo

2014/09/22
Sometimes You Just Need a Little Hideaway in your Life
My daughters, they saw an Instagram video of a friend’s little girl lip syncing Kiesza’s Hideaway. It was the first time they’d ever heard the song. They were instantly obsessed and being my children, of course they never do anything to scale. They had to take it and run away with it. After making several Instagram videos, they decided it was time to pull out the big guns and they entered my office with costumes and demanded that I record them. What did I expect from the kids who did a toy version of the Harlem Shake. What can I say, the whole family is a little silly. Every last one of them has a silly streak a mile wide. Who am I to deny them this? Besides, aren’t these the moments that memories are made of?
I’ll hideaway with these girls any day of the week!
My girls rock and they make me proud when they just do their do! They have no qualms about anything, they always just dance like no one is watching. I hope that never changes. These are the moments of bliss that motherhood is peppered with; these are the moments that make it all worth it.
What moment makes it all worth it for you?
2014/08/19
Throat Punch Thursday~ Free to be Gender-Free Edition
Free to be…You and Me! Free to be Gender Free! I’m sure by now, everybody in the world has heard the story of 4 month old baby Storm. This is the child born in Toronto to Kathy Witterick and her husband, David Stocker. The couple has kept their baby Storm’s gender a secret. The only people who know are one family friend and Storm’s older brothers, Jazz, 5, Kio, 2 and the two midwives who delivered Storm on New Year’s Day.
An article last week in the Toronto Star profiled the family and their quest to raise their baby unfettered by gender imposed expectations. The couple began this plight by sending out an email after Storm’s birth:
“We’ve decided not to share Storm’s sex for now — a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm’s lifetime (a more progressive place? …).”
That is the gist of the scenario. A couple of hippies had 3 children and they don’t want them to be judged or reacted to in the world solely on what’s between their legs. I understand that. I really do but I think they are playing God with their children. By NOT assigning their children a sex, they are making such a spectacle that they are assigning them the title of freak. Let’s be clear, I don’t give a shit if a little boy wears a dress or a little girl wants to play in the dirt and eat worms. That is no big deal. In my opinion, both sexes could stand to experiment a little more with their feminine or masculine sides.
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Photos Courtesy of Google Image
I don’t think because your parents tell you that you are a boy or a girl is going to impact the way you see yourself in the world unless of course your parents are assholes and perpetuate the fact that you are defined and restricted by your gender. Perhaps holding the child’s sex from the public will make others not know how to react tot he child and treat him/her like a complete alien but what about the kid who does know what genitalia is between its legs. They know. I think gender gives us a jumping off point, to know who we are. It’s not the only defining characteristic of who we are. I think if the parents want to perpetuate gender-free, they should grow their hair out dress androgynously and conceal their own gender. They are experimenting with their own child. As a society, we stand up for animal rights and against animal cruelty. Testing on children, below the age of consent is worse. It’s barbaric.
I have two girls who, I am not afraid to admit, I had several ultrasounds to check and double check their sex before they were born because…yes, I did want to buy the girly colors and foofoo bedding. They were newborn, I just wanted a beautiful world for them to come home to. There was no malicious intent behind it. I wasn’t trying to force my girls to be princess ballerinas…though they have since somewhat become that very thing.
I have always told them both…you can do and be whatever you want to be in the world. Play sports, dance, be president, whatever you want…as long as you put in the hard work and dedication, the world is yours. You can be anything you want to be.
My 4 year old tells me that she wants to play hockey, soccer and football. My 6 year old wants to be her sister’s cheerleader. One loves pink and purple and the other loves green and blue. They were born girls .I am not embarrassed by that and neither should they be. They are not hindered by that. These parents are saying what is between your legs should not matter and it should not but what’s not between your legs shouldn’t matter either. I think their intentions are good but they are taking a big risk with their children’s lives and place in society. Let them be free to grow up and be whatever they want to be but don’t confuse them as to who they are now.
So, my throat punch goes to the parents of Storm, Kio and Jazz. You asshats are completely jacking up your children’s lives by giving them no place in the world. You have taken away our most primal instinct identifier…male or female. It’s like a big game to you but you are playing with your child. You are supposed to protect them and nurture them not use them as a big Eff you to the world. You two get a ginormous, I hope the DCFS comes and straightens you out, Chuck Norris Monkey Toe roundhouse kick to the back of the neck.
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2011/05/26
Throat Punch Thursday~Assholes,Paint cans & Fire Pits
Throat Punch Thursday ~ Assholes, Paint Cans and Fire Pits. This weeks Throat Punch was earned by several people..oh, I think you know who I’m talking about. But,alas, I am not the monster that some would have you believe. There is a much greater evil in the world. There is an evil so heinous that it makes Charles Manson look tame. I’ll let you be the Judge.
(CNN) — Six people were arrested this week and accused of luring a 15-year-old boy to a Florida home, shooting him several times, burning his body in a fire pit and putting the remains into paint cans, authorities said.
The killing occurred Sunday in the central Florida city of Ocala, according to a statement from the Marion County Sheriff’s Office.
Two females in the group allegedly lured the victim, Seath Jackson, to the home and the group beat him with a wooden object. He was then shot several times with a .22 caliber gun, authorities said.
As the wounded teen attempted to flee, he was tackled and shot again, according to the sheriff’s statement. His body was allegedly placed in a sleeping bag and burned in a fire pit outside the home.
His ashes were placed into several paint containers and thrown into a large garbage can, authorities said.
Authorities said they learned of the alleged plot from a member of the group who confessed to witnessing the killing.
Four adults and two minors have been charged in connection with the death.
Sheriff’s department documents gave little information on what led to the killing other than brief statements by suspects about a dispute and a growing hatred.
Divers on Wednesday found three paint buckets in a water-filled rock quarry that are suspected of containing the victim’s remains, authorities said.
The contents of the buckets were delivered to a forensic specialist at the University of Florida in Gainesville to determine if the ashes and bone fragments match those of Jackson.

I am practically speechless. All I can say is that this is some really messed up stuff! These people make my skin crawl and make me afraid for my children’s safety in the world, knowing that these kinds of people are walking around free. Why did they do this? His clothes weren’t cool enough? He looked at them wrong? Who knows? These people are soulless animals with no hearts and even less of a conscience. It’s bad enough that they used girls to lure him to his assault. After the shock of realizing that these girls didn’t, in fact, like him and that he was being set up to get the shit kicked out of him, can you imagine what was going through his mind? The betrayal.The shock. The hurt.You know how fragile a teenage boy is, especially a socially awkward one ( I’m assuming since he was lured by girls, and then beaten for no reason). Then, as if beating the crap out of the poor guy wasn’t enough they shot him, several times, over and over again. It must have been like shooting at a scared, caged animal. When he finally broke free of them, after taking several bullets, wounded and scared out of his mind…they caught him, and shot him again. Then proceed to put him in a sleeping bag and throw him onto a fire pit. Was he alive? Was he dead? I don’t know.It doesn’t clarify. What I do know is that it takes a really special kind of effed up to perpetrate these sorts of crimes. I’d give them a Throat Punch, but truly I wouldn’t want to come that close to them. They creep me the hell out.But I will give them a fast and furious roundhouse kick to the head using Chuck Norris’ legs. He can kick ’em harder anyways. I don’t know what in hell would posses a person to do this to another human being but these assholes all deserve to have their asses kicked all the way back to the hellish nightmare they came from.So many assholes in the world, so few Throat Punch Thursdays.

2011/04/21
Words Matter the Importance of Honesty in Marriage
Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
Recently, I’ve been approached to be interviewed for some pretty lucrative positions. I haven’t been interviewed to get a job in years since most of my work comes from WOM recommendations or personal connections through past work partners. To be honest, I wasn’t looking because I’m finishing up my master’s in digital marketing and planned to evolve my career when the program is completed. But when opportunity knocks, you have to at least listen, right?

As I said, these positions are lucrative and to ignore the opportunity that sought me out would be crazy, so, I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone( out of my joggers and sweatshirts that have been my work uniform for the past seventeen years)(nervous and unsure) and went for it, talk about imposter syndrome? I felt like a guy dating way out of his league.

There have been 3 interviews thus far 1) was a huge editorial opportunity at a digital news outlet paying great money 2) an editor position heading up their newly formed parenting channel 3) an opportunity to enter the digital marketing field as a strategist. To say I was stressed about having these out-of-the-blue interviews would be an understatement but I’ve never let fear stop me from jumping in head first before, why stop now?

I pulled on my big girl panties and so I lept. Now, the reason I’m able to do this is that I’ve always had my core group of family’s unconditional support and confidence. My husband has always been my biggest supporter. No dream too big. No goal too lofty. “Baby you can do it!” Before the Big Guy, my dad was my hype man. While I’m humble, I’m not afraid of trying. I don’t particularly like failure but I always remain optimistic and try my hardest. A lot of that has to do with my unwavering support system and their belief in me. They truly lift me up so you can imagine what it would feel like if I found out maybe that wasn’t always the case.

Thursday, I was prepping for what would be the most stressful interview yet, the opportunity in digital marketing. Stressful because I’ve only worked from the content creation and influencer side and this position is in the strategist side. Plus, this wasn’t a phone interview but a video conference with not 1 but 2 of the executives. Did I mention I have an issue controlling my facial expressions and so ramble when I’m nervous? Also, how do I dress to look professional but youthful, energetic and creative without looking like a try-hard imposter, matronly or age-inappropriate? When let’s face it, I am often age-inappropriate because even though I’m on the verge of middle age, my heart and soul are stuck around 23-years-old. There were 100 different ways this could all go sideways and so couldn’t stop running every one of those scenarios through my head. I spent all that morning on the precipice of vomiting but I pushed through and decided to get out of my own way.

About an hour and a half before the interview, I sent the Big Guy to pick up the girls from school so I could finish centering myself and get ready (suit up in my interview armor so to speak). I was so nervous that I was getting irritable and second guessing every choice so when my girls got home I asked for their opinions on one fashion options. In retrospect, this was a completely futile and terrible choice. They’ve never been on an interview in their lives but I was desperate for reassurance.

That’s when, in my frantic state, my youngest pulls me aside to drop a truth bomb.I pride myself on raising my girls to be upfront, honest and transparent and to never, ever say something behind someone’s back that you wouldn’t say to their face. I guess I should have more clearly explained timing and how sometimes silence is the best option if the truth will hurt someone you care about. But, some lessons are learned late which Im still debating if it’s actually better than never.

The truth bomb she hit me with 45 minutes before my interview, “dad says you’re really nervous about your interview. You’ve been out of the game too long and you probably won’t get the job.”

In my head…. He said what!?!?!!!!!!!! Not in anger but in shock, awe and heartbreak.

She may as well have shot me on the heart because that’s literally what it felt like.

So, 30 minutes before my interview that I was already feeling insecure about, I’m beginning to look like a leopard from the crying. I can’t figure out how to react. Am I angry? Am I sad? Is this grounds for divorce? Was all that faith in me bullshit? Is our entire marriage a lie? If he, the man who supposedly “loves” me doesn’t believe I can do it, will anybody? Should I cancel the interview! Oh my God, he thinks I’m old??? I fucking hate it here. I’m an imposter. I have no business talking to these people. What was I thinking agreeing to this?? Omg, it’s virtual. They’re going to see my red-spotted, puffy just cried face. Every insecurity I had 45 minutes ago had been amplified by infinity. Does this man even love me? Do I even know who this person is?

Frantically spinning out of control like a helicopter caught in a hurricane about to crash into the ground and kill us all.

Then, 20 minutes before my interview, still not sure what to wear and trying to put on my makeup to cover my leopard spots, thanks to my toxic optimism, stubbornness and refusal to let anyone define what I can or can’t do ( thanks dad for raising me to believe in myself even when others don’t, to take pleasure in proving people wrong and succeeding to spite other peoples underestimation of me) I decided to let it go ( for the duration of the interview). Priorities.

I had a great interview. I was honest about everything including that most of my strategy work has been for class projects but I’m eager to learn and apply everything I’ve learned in class to real-world situations. We had a good rapport and the interview lasted a little over an hour( longer than they’d planned for), I did my best and I’m ok with however it plays out. TBH, I’m thankful for these interview experiences and less afraid of entering back into a corporate position. I feel more confident about my skills and what I have to offer. But even so, is saying thoughtless, hurtful things ( in any context) grounds for divorce?

In the end, I wasn’t mad but truly hurt … wounded. I had a talk with my husband and explained how his comments undermined my faith in myself and my trust in him. He tried to explain that it was taken out of context and he didn’t mean it “that” way. He humbly apologized. I know he felt shitty about me knowing he said it but I told him I was more hurt that he even thought it and in the end, how can I ever believe him when he hypes me up? I felt foolish, embarrassed and betrayed. I don’t like any of those.

He was upset that our daughter told me this before my interview. I told him, I was upset he said it at all. If you won’t say it to my face, then you shouldn’t say it behind my back. I wasn’t mad because she told me, I was sad that he thought that without discussing it directly with me. In fact, always supported me and told me he believed in me. It stung and it’s the only serious argument we’ve had in 25 years but it was serious. Not going to lie, it’s a chip in the foundation and that scares me because it’s the little things that erode a relationship.

We talked it out immediately ( well, as soon as the interview was over) because grudges and pushed-down hurts have no place in a marriage. But we both learned some lessons that day and I’m still processing them. This may sound trivial to some but in our relationship, it’s a big giving deal. Words matter and we all need to think a little more before we say things that may be hurtful to the people we love most because when we stop caring about the wounds we give, do we even love at all?
What would you have done? How much do you think words matter in a marriage?
2022/04/04
How to Survive Holiday Road Trips with Children of All Ages
The holidays are my favorite time of year. There is just something about the chaos of it all that makes me energized. I thrive on the craziness. It’s my happy place, especially when you add in baked goods, holiday music and all the twinkling lights your heart can desire. There is one part however that I could give a good pass on; holiday travel.
It’s not that I don’t like traveling. I love it. I love visiting family. I love going home. I love seeing new sites and old ones too. I even love the actual act of traveling…the journey, not just the destination but during the holidays, traffic is a special kind of hell. Everyone is trying to get somewhere and all of us are getting nowhere fast. There is nothing I hate more than being stuck. The worst kind of stuck is in an enclosed compartment for long hours with no possibility of escape and children.
My children have fortunately inherited my wanderlust and verve for life. They’ve unfortunately also inherited my lack of patience. On the precipice of tweendom, they are far more pleasing travel companions than they were as toddlers. Aside from the occasional, about 25 times an hour, inquiry, “are we there yet?” they tolerate long trips very well. Nothing a pair of good noise canceling headphones can’t rectify. But when they were tiny, as cute as they were, they were the worst.
Road tripping with toddlers is not for the weak. A few years back on a quick trip to Virginia to check out the city for a job move, we found this out the hard way. The girls were just about 2 and 4-years-old. We decided in our youth and naiveté that a long drive across the country was just what our sanity needed.
The area was one of the most gorgeous parts of the country that I’ve ever been. The weather was perfect, the scenery beautiful, large metropolitan cities concealed by nature. There as nothing not to love about the destination.
The 12-hour journey with toddlers, however, left much to be desired. My, otherwise, sweet loving girls apparently had a time limit to being constrained in those 5 point harnesses. On a good day that was a trip across town. You can imagine their state of mind at the very thought of taking their very first long road trip imprisoned in those body shackles.
My rambunctious eldest insisted on asking, every 20 minutes, “Are we there yet?” I always thought that question was a parenting cliché but now I realize that it is, in fact, the truth of traveling with children. I never realized how frazzling that could be to me as a person. I thought “those” moms have no patience. Just say, “Not yet, in a little while.” Why all the overreaction? Then I realized that it can actually bring you to the brink of insanity and make a grown woman ugly cry if asked in the right voice and enough times over a 12-hour period.
While the oldest was hitting us with the barrage of “Are we there yet”s the youngest was freaking out over a gnat. Yes, a gnat, that supposedly must have been the scariest, meanest, baby eating gnat you ever did see because, god bless her little bitty heart, she screamed bloody murder for at least 3 hours of the trip. We were all ticking time bombs.
In summation, my 4-year-old was wondering if we were there yet, every single second of every single minute we were on the road. My 2-year-old was being terrorized by a gnat and screaming so highly pitched, that all the dogs of the world were seeking her out to eat her and end the misery. I was on the brink of insanity, on the verge of losing the battle and my poor beloved husband was trying to plot his course to the nearest gunsmith to rent a gun and buy a bullet.
Then I pulled out my bag of tricks because obviously, the 1200 DVDs that I brought were not holding their attention. First, we colored (you know those Wonder Crayola colors that magically appear on the special paper but nothing else. That’s what you think, but that’s another story entirely), then we colored the glittery ones, then we colored My Little Pony. We sang, only the songs that they know so we had Bella’s favorites, “Twinkle, Twinkle” and “Mary had a little Lamb” and Gabi’s favorites “Happy Burtday to you!” and ” Five, Five Dolla..Five Dolla foot long!”
Yes, my 2-year-old was obsessed with the Subway commercial jingle. Have you any idea how many times they used to play that thing? I do, because she sang it incessantly for her second year. Don’t get me wrong, in the right context, it was absolutely adorable. She was the cutest thing that ever walked the earth, besides her sister, of course, but everything in moderation. Interrupted only by the “Are we there yet?” inquiry of her sister.
So on the brink of insanity, on the way to the gun shop, we stopped at lunch to let them stretch their tiny legs at some wayward Wendy’s in West Virginia. Not my idea, have you seen Wrong Turn?
We got lunch, they had ants in their pants and couldn’t keep still. We got the food, the chicken flavored whatsamanuggets are not done, still doughy,”EWWWW, gross”, as my daughter liked to say. I returned them. We waited again, I returned with nuggets, all is good in the land.
Then a “fly” dared to descend upon the table. All hell broke loose. Toddlers jumping everywhere, screaming, crying, running away in terror. I mentioned it was a fly and not Godzilla, right? Not a horsefly, just a regular old house fly! In true fix the situation fast fashion, I took off my flip flop and the untimely death of one unsuspecting fly ensued. All was good in the land.
Then Gabs, because all of the attention we just received was apparently not enough for her, screamed, at the absolute top of her lungs “EWWWW, FAARTED.Stinks”. Absolutely, mortified, I say ” OK, honey, it’s OK.” Then I realize, amongst all of the commotion, she did not have any kind of flatulation incident. Apparently, she just thought it was funny and liked to take credit, really loudly.
The point of all of this recounted trauma is that I am so thankful for things like Netflix and noise canceling headphones and toddlers who have grown into tweens who now find many ways of entertaining themselves. Daddy’s hotspot has saved us all many times on long road trips to Disney.
If you are looking for something to binge on your next long trip. My top recommendations are Alias Grace, Godless, She’s Gotta Have it, Glitch, Frontier, Man Down and Stranger Things.
For the tweens, I recommend Riverdale, Stranger Things, Anne with an E and my girls’ favorite, Project MC2.
For the toddlers/preschoolers whom I adore, Octonauts, Beat Bugs, Super Monsters, PJMasks and Word Party which are all available for download.
Speaking of long drives to Disney World, did I mention all of the amazing Disney Movies that Netflix currently has in the queue? What are you binging right now?
Disclosure: I am a member of Netflix’s #StreamTeam but all opinions and genuine love for Netflix are my own.

2017/11/30
Taking Care of Me is Taking Care of My Family
Do you find it hard to make time for taking care of yourself? Lately, I’ve resolved to get my health back on track, which means working out, portion control and making healthier choices in the foods I eat. Sounds easy, right? It’s harder than you think, especially for a busy mom of two little girls on the go.
It’s been going pretty well. Like anything in life, it’s hard to break bad habits like mindless eating and not moving. I’ve had to make conscious decisions to get up and work out and to measure out my portions but it’s getting easier. I’ve done this by finding a workout that I love because it’s dancing and using containers and a scale to measure my foods before I portion them.
The one thing I am having trouble with is eating when I am hungry. I get so busy that I either forget to eat until I need to be someplace or I simply don’t have the time to find something nutritious so I grab whatever happens to be in front of me and honestly, it’s not usually anything that I should be putting in my mouth at such a quantity of with such fervor. So, I’ve decided to start keeping fresh fruits (washed, dried and ready to eat), fresh veggies (washed, cut up and in baggies) and high protein bars at my disposal.
The thing that is proving the hardest is satisfying my sweet tooth because even though my mind knows that’s a slippery slope, my cravings still crave it. It’s getting easier and I’m not shoveling all the carbs into my mouth without consideration like I was before but I still have those times of the month when I just need something sweet or people could get hurt. You know what I mean.
I’ve found two ways to satisfy these cravings that is a much healthier choice than reaching for a brownie or cookies. I’ve started making smoothies using fresh or frozen fruits and vanilla almond milk with protein powder. My favorite is 1 banana, ½ cup of mixed frozen berries, ½ cup of vanilla almond milk and about 3 oz. of vanilla protein powder. I throw it all in my individual smoothie blender and satisfy my sweet tooth guilt free.
Now, that’s taking care of yourself!
My other favorite treat is Fiber One’s new Cheesecake bars. My family has always been a fan of the Fiber One bars. The girls love the brownies and I love the lemon bars but I have a new favorite, the new Fiber One Cheesecake bar in Salted Caramel. My little one prefers the Fiber One Cheesecake bar in strawberry. Honestly, it’s hard to go wrong.
The best part is aside from grabbing them on the go for myself, I can give them to my girls with a piece of fresh fruit and a glass of milk for a fast, healthy breakfast. It’s perfect on those days when we are running late for school, as a light afternoon snack between cheer and ballet or gymnastics or even for dessert, when you just need a little something sweet.
It works for me. It’s made changing my eating habits and developing a healthier lifestyle a lot easier because I don’t feel deprived. I don’t feel like I’m being punished. I feel like I’m just learning to making better choices and in the long run, I think that will mean the difference between succeeding at getting healthy and failure. When it comes to my health, failure just isn’t an option anymore.
What’s your favorite healthy snack you eat when taking care of yourself?

Disclosure: This post was sponsored by Fiber One through their partnership with POPSUGAR Select. While I was compensated to write a post about Fiber One’s Cheesecake Bars, all opinions about taking care of yourself and Fiber One’s Cheesecake Bars are my own.
2016/03/08
I Just Got Lee Harvey Oswalded
I’m not usually one to give relationship advice but when marital relations with children in the house is the topic, I feel it’s my duty to warn you about the dangers, especially the Lee Harvey Oswald. No, I didn’t just get shot in the head in Texas and there’s been no grass on the knoll since 1997. But, yes, to my horror I did just get shot in the eye unexpectedly. It was funny but not really because I’m pretty sure a mom can lose her left eye in such shenanigans.
Look, I’m not trying to go all TMI on you so early in the morning but most of you have kids, so you will totally get this and if you don’t have kids, you were a teenager at one point and had parents (more than likely) so you will totally understand what I am about to tell you. It’s a tale as old as time, people trying to have sex while not trying to get caught by other people (in our case, little people.) I love the Big Guy more today than I did when we first got together almost 20 years ago and I still think he’s the hottest man in the room, but as our girls have gotten older “couple time” has gotten tricky.
This is the one bit of relationship advice about sex that you will want to take.
See, the kids are getting a little older and that means they are staying up a little later and getting up a little earlier. The point being after a couple episodes of Big Bang Theory or Last Week Tonight our “alone time” is spent which means that leaves very little time for “adult time”. That stinks. We’re humans, not just parents, we have needs. Needs and desires that require us to feel and be adults; entities that exist outside the realm of Mommy and Daddy.
A couple weeks ago the Big Guy was home for a week with a raging case of pink eye and believe me you; we used up every single moment of free time. It was like we were back in college just he had pink eye, I was jet lagged and we were in a bed and not in a rickety loft. Either way, it reminded us of how important “us time” really is. It’s not about just sex, it’s about intimacy and all it takes is some sneaky squirrel antics on our part, at least 15 minutes of distracted kids and a locked door is nice too. Damn open door policy in our house.
Don’t get me wrong, we’ve spent the last decade playing the worst game of sex hide and seek ever. That game is stressful and not romantic. When they were small it was easy, we could take it to the living room floor, the conjugalorium, the half bath or even the laundry room or a closet if we were really in dire straights. Sure we got busted a couple times but we played it off. They thought they dreamt mommy and daddy were wrestling.
But now, if we’re caught someone’s going to be traumatized. The girls are ballerinas and I swear they must float on air because they need to wear bells because they are the best sidlers I’ve ever known, especially the little one so the risk of getting busted is dangerously high.
This morning the girls requested an early wake up call so that they could shower. We saw our opportunity. We had to take it. So the minute we heard the shower start, the clock was ticking. We locked the door and took what was ours.
Then it happened. I got Oswalded. We heard the shampoo drop and in a frantic rush we knew it was now or never. We also knew that I was ovulating and we are a strictly no more baby household, especially considering that a couple weeks ago everyone in my gynecologist’s office couldn’t stop asking if I was menopausal? It must be the matronly swagger with which I rock my skinny jeans and TOMs.
In a frantic scurry not to procreate, we “ disengaged” and that’s when “it” grazed my stomach, ricocheted off of my left breast and hit me squarely beneath my eye before continuing on to the pillow. MY EYE! I was in shock. Was I dead? Was I bleeding? One thing I knew for sure, and thank God for the positive side of everything, I wasn’t pregnant.
Now, I totally get it…the whole, you’ll shoot your eye out and you’ll go blind statements of our mothers past…the force with which a weekend build up holds could surely render me a wondrous one-eyed Willie. How the hell would I explain that my husband Lee Harvey Oswalded me during a quickie because we were afraid our kids would catch us?
Here’s the relationship advice everybody trying to have sex with kids in the house should heed…
Lock the damn door and take your time. You deserve it. I know it’s hard having with kids standing on the other side and it’s a little terrifying especially since I think my littlest might know how to pick a lock but damn it, your eyesight is important. It’s all fun and games until someone gets their eye shot out and a sticky eyebrow as a parting gift.
As a parent what piece of relationship advice would you give another parent about having sex with kids, especially older ones, in the house?
2016/03/23