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choice, children, pro-choice, pro-life, pregnancy,motherhood

People like to say that a child is not a choice but I think that’s a lie. I think every single child is a choice. But the reader board at my children’s school screams loudly that a child is not a choice. I get it. They are pro-life. Being Catholic, I’ve seen the words a thousand times but I never really knew the weight of those words; not personally. They are the self-righteous indignation of people who’ve never had to make “that” choice. Children should not have to think about whether or not they were a choice. It bothers me that those words greet my children upon their arrival at school every morning because my children were never a choice for me, they were always a blessing. I always knew that I wanted to be a mother.

I’ve always spoken openly about my belief in a woman’s right to choose.The woman in question making the choice was always some theoretical woman in some hypothetical situation that resulted in an unwanted or unplanned pregnancy. I never thought I would have to consider those words, to be in a position to make a choice about my own child.

I’m not going to shock you with a story from my youth about how I found myself in a bad way after a night of young love or how too much alcohol at a frat party left me to make the most difficult choice if my life. No. That never happened. Though it does, all the time. I won’t tell you a story of being molested by a family friend only to find myself 13 years old with nowhere to turn and no one to believe me. That never happened either. But it does. I won’t tell you of a break in during the middle of the night where a stranger forced himself on a young woman across the world from her family, terrorized her before beating her and using her for his own pleasure and her defeat, before leaving her for dead only to find herself carrying her assailant’s baby. That never happened. But it does, every day. These women and so many more have a right to their choice.

What brought me to my choice was less sensational but still the most difficult decision I ever had to contemplate. When we found out that I was pregnant with our last baby, the sweet baby that I miscarried, we were not expecting to be pregnant. It was not planned. We were living with my in laws, confined to only a bedroom’s worth of personal space. I was 39 and all I could think of were 1000 reasons why being pregnant at almost 40 was a terrible idea. My biggest fear was that there would be something genetically wrong with the baby and if I were to die in 30 or 40 years, who would take care of that baby. But there was one overwhelming reason to have that baby, from the moment I knew I was pregnant, I was completely in love with this child and all that he could be and do.

I remember after a brief moment of pure joy after seeing our baby on the monitor the doctor began rattling off potential threats to the pregnancy and saying things like advanced maternal age and preparing me for genetic testing at week 11 to make sure everything was “ok” and talk of amniocentesis to know if we wanted to continue with the pregnancy. It all became white noise, the soundtrack of terror, as my heart sank and fear set in. What if I failed this child? The Big Guy and I left the appointment in shock and fear and it was all tinged with sadness. For a moment, it felt more like a tribulation than a celebration.

We went to lunch to discuss the inevitable. What should we do? We discussed all the possible outcomes and I was angry; angry that I had to even consider anything other than just having this baby. I was mad at a world that filled me with so much trepidation. I was pissed off that I had to think rationally about a life. I wanted to celebrate my miracle not weigh options like I was buying a house.

With my 2 previous pregnancies, all genetic testing and what ifs were never even considered. I vehemently refused because no matter what, I was having those babies. Now, I had to consider ever possible option; for the baby, for our children, for the Big Guy and I. I just couldn’t reconcile myself to anything other than having this baby and loving and caring for it forever. Concerned and worried, the Big Guy agreed. It isn’t who we are. Even though I am 100% for freedom of choice for women, there was no choice for me because, you see, it wasn’t some abstract fetus; it was a Bella or Gabi.

Even though I had never met this sweet baby yet, I already loved him because I knew what he would become. I knew the love my heart would feel. I knew how my heart would swell when they lay him on my chest for the first time. I knew how when he held me in his gaze while I fed him; it would be just the two of us. I knew a lifetime of kissing booboos and “I Love You”s would never be enough to encompass the love a parent feels for their child. I wanted that again, so much.

We left that lunch excited for the future. We were giggling and discussing what ifs and name choices and how we would announce it to everyone? We were terrified of what might be ahead of us but we were thrilled at the idea of another child to love, to watch grow up together. It was our secret miracle and we couldn’t wait to tell the family when we surprised Gabi with a big sister t-shirt at her 5th birthday. All the worry I had, left me in the sureness of our choice. Then three weeks later, my choice was taken away. It was the worst day of my life.

Every child is a choice.

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summerIt’s Wednesday morning and my girls have officially been on Summer break for a week; 7 days. I was very excited for summer break, sleeping in, lazy days, spending quality time with my much more relaxed children who were happy and free from the shackles of homework and obligations. May was murder on all us. We literally ran from start to finish. May is lovingly referred to by all of us as “Hell Month” and of course, it wouldn’t be May if it didn’t eek in just a couple last-minute helacious curve balls.

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live mas, taco bell

What does it mean to live mas? It means to live more. Live bigger. Live brighter. Live in the moment.  Life is too short for waiting to have your adventure until tomorrow, until you have more money saved, the perfect house, the perfect mate or until you are thinner. You shouldn’t live your life on a reward system; living is the reward. Live it now. In short, carpe diem.

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My Daughter

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My Daughter

My New Favorite Photo of My Daughters

That’s my daughter in the water, both of them

That’s my daughter is what I want to scream every single time anyone looks at my daughter, either one of them. Anyone who’s ever had the honor of being the mommy to a daughter knows that our little girls leave us in awe on a daily basis. I can’t even explain the pride and love that I feel for these two little creatures. At their very core, they are pure good. They are everything that I love about the world, about people, even about living. Everything I do is for them.

This past month has been such an emotional roller coaster for so many reasons, least of all because of our miscarriage. I say ours because it wasn’t just my loss. It hurt our family, at it’s core. Thank God,I have so much to be thankful for. I am so freaking blessed that sometimes, I think it’s not fair that I should have so many blessings in my life, especially my daughters and husband. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows over here, hardly. But even when it’s hard, it’s still really, really good because I have the girls and the Big Guy to love me. They love me regardless of the time, day, weather, whether I am fat or skinny. It’s unconditional and that is truly something to be thankful for.

So, I am not going to go on mushy on you and talk about what I’ve lost. I’ve done enough of that. You have all been such a great sounding board. I have shouted profanities at life and collapsed in a pool of snot and tears and I have had so many people to lift me up. I finally feel like I can stand alone and shout my profanities. I know y’all have got my back and I don’t feel sorry for myself anymore. I feel sad at what I will never know and I feel the void but I know that I am strong enough to survive. I know that I am a stronger and better person for having survived it, like so many other shitty things that I have survived.

This is about so much more, this is about my daughters and all the reasons that I had to celebrate this month. No, I am not crazy or delusional and believe me, I didn’t think I could celebrate anything but how could I not. My husband celebrated his 37th birthday. The Big Guy is my soft place to land in a life of never ending rocks and hard places. I celebrate his birth because, he is responsible for my rebirth. He is the part of me that holds me up. He is my foundation.

That’s My Daughter, Who’d Have Ever Thought Her?

I had to celebrate Mother’s day because look at the two daughters I have been blessed with. My girl’s bring me infinite love to give and to receive on a daily basis. They have made me better than I ever could have hoped to be, more than I could have imagined was even possible. With them, my heart grows to the point that it feels like it may swell and burst out of my chest.

The Big Guy and I celebrated 13 years of marriage. This man came into a moment in my life when I was not expecting love. Up until him, what I thought was love was a faint shadow of what love truly is. Love is all consuming and easy. It’s a submission of your heart, body and soul with a complete reciprocation.It’s a soft place to land. It’s good times and bad. It’s the big things and the little things. It’s sharing a near death experience in order to create a perfect, living breathing , walking around and breaking your heart culmination of your love. It’s holding hair, holding hands and holding your heart together with chewing gum when it’s breaking into a million different pieces. It’s silence that fills a room and noise that fills your heart. It’s all day, every day and it is unconditional without reservation, hesitation or question.

We celebrated Gabi’s birthday. My tenderhearted baby turned 5 this past week and if I were on my dying bed, I would will myself up and celebrate that child’s life. She is strong, witty, funny and amazing in ways that I’d never thought about before her. She is my baby and that is worth celebrating. She is here to be held and loved. I will do it every second and in every way for as long as I take breath into my body.

Along with all that, there were end of year programs, preschool graduation, ballet recitals, firsts performances, last days, life and death and through it all, I am so glad that you are here to share it all with. Which reminds me, The TRUTH about Motherhood just turned 3 and Throat Punch Thursday (Which I’ve been too emotionally drained the past month to dole out but will resume next month) is officially 2 years old. I have truly enjoyed getting to know all of you and I look forward to many more years of growing through motherhood and life with you.

What would I do without to you? What would I do without the Big Guy or my daughters? I don’t know and I hope I never do know life without your community, the Big Guy or my daughters.

That’s my Daughter, Every time she fell I caught Her, Every time


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It’s Friday and I just don’t feel like Fawk You’s. I’m having a happy Friday and so I want to take a moment to bask in the great things happening to me, right now:) (As evidence I don’t always..just bitch:)LOL

She’s wearing the crazy cowgirl hat because it was CRAZY hat day @ school.Halloween party was yesterday.

My Bella lost her first tooth last night in the middle of the night. I was awaken by a little face pressed to mine, whispering,”Mommy, my tooth fell out!Yippee!” She is so excited, she says it makes her a “real” kindergartner!I’m a little sad about it but I am really happy that she is so excited.Now, to figure out what the tooth fairy will be leaving and I gotta get on that tooth fairy pillow!STAT!

I know I am biased but this kid rocks my socks off!

An unsuspecting moment of joy appeared this morning, on the way back from kindergarten drop off, Bruno Mars’ Just the way you are came on the radio and it is one of my favorites because of what it represents. I sing it to my girls all the time. This morning, from the back seat I hear a little voice lifting up.I peak in my rear view and there is my 3 year old singing it at the top of her lungs and my heart swooned.Girl you’re amazing..just the way you are!!

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Next, I am ecstatic for my Big Guy to come home! I look forward to Fridays like most people look forward to Christmas and so do my girls. The Big Guy is a wonderful father and husband. He is a very hands on parent and if I need a nap or a couple hours to myself, he knows before I even  need to ask and tells me to go do it. He really does complete me.I absolutely love me some Big Guy!

We are also really ecstatic about the fact that my wonderful brother in law has popped the question to his gorgeous girlfriend.We couldn’t be happier.I can’t wait to have another sister and my girls are over the moon to have “the Great” be their auntie! We love you both and we are wishing you a long life of happiness together!

J.dot.A.dot, this song is for you…We’re so happy that You found her!


Next, I want to wish a very happiest of birthdays to my baby sister, Bekiluki (her Papi appointed nickname  from our childhood.We all have them:). Girl, this is going to be the year big things happen for you. I feel it in my bones. Remember, Monday, November 1st is the first day of the rest of our lives.We pinky promised!I’ll be right there to hold your hand little sister, always! You can do anything you want to in this life.You deserve happiness! Go get your happiness!! Love you!

Bertie this is for you.Listen to the lyrics and know that  you are amazing and I am always here for you,little sister.There is a light in your eyes….


 Last but not least, Happy Friday, everyone! This song makes me happy spontaneously,hope it can brighten yours, as well.


 Happy Halloween from the Truthful Mommy household!


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Before my girls were ever born, in the very early stages of conception , I became obsessed with  chronicling every single thing they would ever do. There were the usual; first tooth, first time crawling, first time sleeping through the night, first solid food, first trip to Grandma’s..and so on and so forth. but were those other things that I just new I never wanted to forget too, first tantrum, first time they bit someone, first concert, first time they threw up on me, first time they danced with a Wiggle ( oh yeah, my girl got pulled up on the stage..it was very reminiscent of Courtney Cox and Bruce Springsteen but with hot potato and smashed banana…). There have been a lot of things I have recorded. But somewhere along the way, things went horribly wrong.
The “baby Book” that I so painstakingly searched for and found after countless hours of searching the shelves of multiple bookstores has been forgotten. I mean its here. I know where it is….I think.Somehow it’s been reduced to random pieces of  paper, napkins, tissues with dates and occasions on them. To be honest, I am praying I wrote the year and the child because it may just be the action and the date. I was so in the moment that I never thought I’d forget the first day Bella laughed so hard that she blew milk out her nose, or the day 11 month old Gabs (I’m not 100% sure but I’m pretty sure, all the signs tell me) ingested shit. Let’s just say there was poop on her hands, and it looked like poop on her face. That’s all I’m saying. Yeah, I called the doctor..there was nothing they could do but tell me to keep an eye on her, give me a statistic about how 100% of all money has traces of human feces on it (EWWWW! I’m not sure if they were trying to make me feel better or worse), and I’m pretty sure they they made a mark somewhere  ( you know some special database accessible to DCFS….1 eff up you’re a dumb ass, 2 eff up’s they’re coming in and taking the kids away!) It was an accident people, if it even happened….which I’m not sure it did!
Anyways, I digress ( as always). My point being, I have become accustomed to writing these little forget me not notes, or stashing tickets to their first movies, or a napkin from their birthday party because it was
is going in the book at some not yet determined time in the near future . It’s gotten so bad that now, whenever anything happens my 5 year old promptly exclaims ” Hey , Mommy. You’re putting that in the baby book, right?” I’m really not sure if she is being facetious, or serious. Either way, it makes me feel like a rat..lower than a rat..like a flea on a rat.
This weekend, I came to a life altering decision… I am going on a scavenger hunt. I am determined to find each and every single piece of tissue, toilet paper, napkin, scratch pad paper containing rogue information that I can find. When I do, I am going to bring that illusive Baby Book up to date. I plan to gather my randomly placed post it notes of my children’s life thus far and my scattered thoughts on the whole thing and put together the most effing awesome Baby Book to ever walk the face of the earth ( you know what I mean).  I’m thinking I may just have to arm myself with wine and water , lock myself in the basement with all the papers and power through and get it done. I wonder if they will ever know the depth and breadth to the sacrifices we make for them? That Silent Ninja Mommy assistant would be priceless right about now. Next on the agenda, the baby quilt I keep promising myself that I am making from their baby clothes. Also,with each passing day, my husbands ‘crazy’ idea that I log everything that happens in our children’s life into a file on the computer..seems to sound a lot better to me .

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I woke up this morning, all keyed up on sleep. I had an entire hour to myself before the girls woke up and boy was it nice. It gave me a false sense of hope and made me think that today, anything was possible. Oh yeah, you know the kind of day I’m talking about. You wake up, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and you just know that you can accomplish anything.I was on top of the world, then life happened. First, I had my coffee, then I changed into my workout clothes. Of course, I did. Can do attitude told me that today was the first day of the rest of my life. I just knew I was going to power through the day, feed the kids some healthy meals, play outside, engage them in stimulating mental activities, spring clean, return those movies about to be due, pay bills, workout, return emails, make appointments, maybe even get to work from home, post a blog or two, save the world from domination of some sort.You know me…I’m Wonder woman. Sure am, wondering how the hell I am going to get all of this shit done in 24 hours. Don’t you just love it when amongst all of this craziness that is our life, the unexpected constantly happens. And its never anything good; like unexpectedly winning the lottery. No I am referring more along the lines of your pipes unexpectedly bursting, or maybe an unexpected bill. Or maybe a lovely phone call with the other person , way the frick out in who knows where, taking up your precious time to ask, “What cha doing?” “Hmmmm.,UMMMM, everything..and you are taking up my valuable time, ASSHOLE!” That is what this lovely day, so full of possibilites, turned into. Here I sit, just changed out of my work out clothes, never got to work out. Nope, the 3 hours it took to get my 2 year old to sleep at nap time and the 2 hours that it took to get my 5 year old down at bedtime…just about broke me down today. How is today suppose to be the first day of the rest of my life? I don’t want the rest of my life to be a series of dumb luck and complete madness. So, I will go to bed and start all over tomorrow. Can do attitude says it can be done. Failure is not an option and all that rigamarole. I bet can do attitude doesn’t have kids or a life! Damn you Can do attitude and all your false hope and security.Today was so crazy, I’m thinking of changing the name of this blog to the craziness chronicles!

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What ever happened to doctor patient privilege? So, I am talking to the insurance company and they are asking me a few medical questions for the application. The nurse asks me about different conditions that I may have according to my medical history, “So, what about stress incontinence?” “Pardon me?? I am not familiar with that diagnosis or that term?” My God, I thought, was she asking me if I shit myself when I got stressed out? Was that even a ‘thing” a medical condition? If it was, I don’t have it. Never been diagnosed with it; certainly don’t want it! She explained, “It’s when you sneeze and there is a release of a small amount of urine.” “oh, you mean do I tinkle when I sneeze? Yes, occasionally if I sneeze really hard (thanks to my beautiful girls’ enormously  gorgeous melons) sometimes I have to do the peepee dance so I don’t tinkle on myself. But its not always.” Come on, I’m not the only Mommy who has had this happen,right? She was really trying to be serious. Next question, “Do you require any treatment for this condition?”

Me: “Oh, you mean other than the peepee dance? Not really, just practicing my kegels!”
Nurse: “Any plans for treatment or corrective surgery in the future?”
Me: “No, its kinda like being ugly. You just have to learn to live with it!” At this point, she did let lose a pretty hefty giggle. And this concluded our interview. I am a little concerned that I am in a chart somewhere as a grown woman who tinkles on herself (just a little bit and just on occasion) but its better than what I had originally thought….One who poops on themselves in stressful situations! My goodness, my Masters degrees never prepared me for that term. Oh, the joys of Motherhood!

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As excited as I was for my husband to come home Friday night, that’s how depressed I am that he has left. They say your first year of marriage is the hardest, and I used to believe that. They also say that the year you have a child, that is a very difficult year in a marriage. Makes sense, the once again shifting of the relationship paradigm. But, that year brought us scary close to one another. It’s sorta like being in war together; you’re scared to death, you are fighting to stay alive ( or at least to be sure that you keep your child alive), and you do some growing up together. It definitely takes it to the next level. Now, we are heading towards are 11th year of marriage (yes, I married at the age of 13:), we’ve just spent year 9 &10 being downsized 3 times. Oh yeah, you heard me correctly. If that is not the test of your marital strength, I don’t know what is. Seriously, in my world, money is the root of all evil; when there is none….I get evil. Not really, but its a stress to have bills coming in and what little income you have going out. But we weathered through it together. Hell, this last time, I didn’t even stress about it. I just said to myself, “Hey, worrying helps no one, it makes my energy all negative..I’m not doing it.” Then there was a job. A wonderful lovely, knight in shining armor job rode in all the way from Iowa on its big metaphorical steed and rescued us. Yey, the day is saved. But all is not what it seems, yes, we are blessed by God to have found employment in this economy so quickly. I know that. But seriously, did it have to be 4 hours away from where we live. Here I am , a wife who actually likes having my husband around a lot, and he is in Iowa. Poor guy is living like a transient it what we refer to as his “hole” , a very nice 1 bedroom apartment furnished with a blow up bed, 2 camping chairs and a few other oddities from our garage. I feel really terrible. I know he is not taking more because he doesn’t want the girls and I to feel as if he actually “lives” there. But the fact of the matter is that he is there more than he is here. I essentially have a long distance marriage at this point. I think if we hadn’t been through so much together already as a married couple and be in such a stable and committed marriage,  this could be dangerous. I used to always use the line, “hey, if I wanted to be alone I would have stayed single.” That was back when we first got married, when I was 12 and apparently really immature and needed to be with him constantly. I used to shutter at the idea of him traveling for business. I guess I’ve learned my lesson. Traveling occasionally would be amazing compared to this situation. It’s kind of exciting, that I get to get all excited to see my husband like when we were first dating but at the same time, the parting is such sweet sorrow! Every Friday, I get all jazzed up like a 15 year old version of myself about to see her boyfriend for a hot date and then Sunday night reality slaps me right across the face and I realize I won’t see my husband for a few more days.I’m not complaining, well maybe a little, but hey what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? After the last couple years of marriage, I think I probably have strength and fortitude the likes of Lou Ferrigno! So, just to recap; job good, money good, having wonderful husband 4 hours away from myself and my girls..bites!

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I am having a WTH is going on here day. It has come to my attention, apparently when you have a moment..you realize a lot of not necessarily caring to know information, that I have developed a very peculiar way of cleaning my house. Remember the good old day when you could spend all day cleaning out your closets?Ahh, and when it was done there was sense of accomplishment and pride? Remember? You remember….think hard. Now, it has taken me a month to unpack from a relocation..a month and I am still unpacking. It probably has something to do with what I have noticed myself doing. Every time I say I am going to clean the house, I pick a room(say the bedroom), get started, decide to go to another room for whatever reason (lets say the kitchen to get some coffee),then I am cleaning the kitchen. Next, I hit the bathroom to tinkle from my coffee and (you guessed) get sidetracked and start cleaning the bathroom. Now, have I mentioned that I am moving on without completing a single room and seldom do I even realize what I am doing this until I wander back into the previous room and see my mess that I left behind (i.e mop laying out, vacuum in middle of room, clothes in washer that haven’t made it to the dryer in three days, or perhaps, loaded dishwasher that I forgot to run until I run out of silverware and sippy cups!)You see my problem? I am convinced I have some type of “used uterus” type specific form of ADHD!!!! That has to be it, or I am completely and randomly insane.Anybody else experienced this? If so, is there a group or a special kind of medication that I should be on to remedy this situation? I am getting a little worried for myself:) I mean what if I get sidetracked by a phone call or a doorbell and forget where I put the kids?

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