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motherhood, #promisetobaby, johnson and johnson

I’ve been thinking about the beauty of motherhood a lot lately, in every way. It’s been a life changing couple of years. When I started this blog, I was in the thick of motherhood. I couldn’t see the beauty of it at all.

Sure, I saw the miracle in birth and felt the all consuming love that filled my heart with a smile from my daughters but I was right in the middle of it; too exhausted, too overwhelmed to stop and enjoy the little moments. I was too busy just trying to survive and truly believed that motherhood was misery peppered with moments of profound bliss but now I know better. Motherhood gives me so much more than I can ever give them. We give them life but they give us purpose.

The true beauty of motherhood is in the unexpected.

We just welcomed our newborn niece into the world and I’ve had babies on the brain. You know how that works? Ovaries start twitching and your uterus is all whispering, ” if you like it than you should put a baby in it!” Sneaky, baby loving uterus.

Babies are amazing and they smell like apples and pure love and you just want to eat them up and thank God because they leave you so freaking exhausted that you can’t see straight and you just want to cry. If only you had a free moment to do so.

birth, beauty of motherhood, motherhood, newborns, parenting

The beauty of motherhood is that it is always changing.

My daughters are now 6 and 8-years-old and I have to say, I really like them; as people. They are kind, funny, smart, full of personality and wit and I am so proud to have even a very small part to do with that. I’ve made it a point over the past year to try and step back, breathe and be in the moment.

I spent so many years going through the motions; doing what I thought was expected of a “good” mom but it was more like a checklist than enjoying and embracing the beauty of motherhood. It was one more thing that I had to get done to get to the next moment. But what was I rushing towards? The letting go? Tomorrow is not guaranteed.

I know it’s easier said than done but every moment we have with our children may not be magical, but each and every one is a miracle.  One day, I realized it doesn’t matter how perfect the birthday parties are or whether or not they have all the coolest clothes and toys, luxurious vacations and a big house in a fancy neighborhood. None of it matters because at the end of the day, all kids really care about or remember is that you loved them and the time you spent with them.

birth, beauty of motherhood, motherhood, newborns, parenting

The real beauty of motherhood lies within the mistakes and do overs.

I know that my girls are my two favorite people in the world and no matter what sleep I’ve lost, nights out I’ve sacrificed, money or my body that I have lost, it’s all worth it to be loved and have the privilege of loving my little girls. No amount of money, sleep or fun will ever be able to replace the early morning hugs and silly giggles that only a child of your own can bring.

Motherhood changes everything. Motherhood is hard. Motherhood is the realization that you can love deeper and truer than you ever thought possible and then just as quickly realizing that the thing you love most in the world, is walking around free in the world. Your heart is on the loose and you know that any hurt or damage they endure, will be multiplied by infinity in your own heart.

birth, beauty of motherhood, motherhood, newborns, parenting

The beauty of motherhood is the simple gift of loving and being loved so unconditionally that nothing else matters.

Motherhood is glorious in ways that I never knew possible and painful in ways that I never imagined. Motherhood is messy and wonderful. From the moment you know they exist, they will change your life forever. It’s harder than anything you’ve ever done or will ever do because it’s more important than anything else you will ever do.

But we do it willingly because the reward always outweighs the sacrifice and that’s the real truth about motherhood that no one ever tells you. The beauty of motherhood is that it’s blindingly beautiful at times and at other times it takes the breath right out of you.

Your heart won’t know what hit it. Enjoy it. Every single minute of it because it flies by and before you know it, the precious baby who you were wishing to crawl is out the door, dating and driving and all you can do is hold on for dear life as you are forced to let go.

birth, beauty of motherhood, motherhood, newborns, parenting

Beautiful, sweet Delaney, welcome to the world and Kate & Jeff, welcome to this wonderful, crazy club we call parenthood. It’s the best and hardest thing you will ever do and it is worth every single second of sleep lost and tear shed. XOXO

That is the real, true beauty of motherhood.

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tanning, st. tropez, motherhood, making yourself a priority

As many of you can attest to from being regular readers of this blog, when I am not tanned, I am the whitest Latina on the face of the earth.  It was a 50/50 toss up what my skin was going to look like when I was born with my mother being porcelain Caucasian and my father being caramel colored Latino. There are six children and some of us stay tanned all year long and others of us have to work a little harder at it. Unfortunately, I am one who has to work hard at it. I’m pale like a vampire most of the winter unless I drag myself in to the tanning salon or get a spray tan, then I brown up like a beautiful bronze goddess. I love looking like a bronze goddess. As pale as my complexion gets in the winter months, one would assume I would just spark up and ignite once I got in the sun.

When I was a teenager and in my carefree early 20’s, I spent my summers sunbathing on the beach and my winter’s lying in a tanning bed. I know, it is so horrible for your skin; wrinkles, freckles and cancer; all so not worth looking sun kissed. Though, I’ve realized over the years that everyone looks better tanned. We just look healthier, happier, and more carefree. When we’re pale, unless you’re Nicole Kidman, the rest of us pretty much just look like we’re sick. I don’t want to look sick, especially not now that I am getting older. I want to look and feel my best.

It’s hard enough feeling good about the way you look when you are living in a new post baby body, sporting luggage under your eyes, can’t even remember the last time you shaved your legs and the mommy brain is making you forget everything else. As a mom, I have no time for the little luxuries that used to be staples in my days; pedicures, manicures, massages, tanning and sleep. God, how I miss my sleep. Between no time, less money to spend on myself, and the whole having to put someone else’s needs before my own, I have just let them go. Lately though, I’ve been really feeling like I need to add those things back into my world. I need to be a priority in my own life.I mean to be a good mom; I need to take time to feel good about myself, right? We deserve that and our daughters deserve a good role model.

I know this about me, when I look better, I feel better. When I feel like I’m dressed nicely and my hair, nails, make-up are done, it makes me feel more confident in all areas of my life. Saying it out loud sounds a little vain but honestly, if I feel more confident, I carry myself differently, the world reacts differently to me; it makes me a better mommy to my girls because I am showing them that it’s perfectly ok to make themselves a priority in their lives and bonus, your husband is going to start to see you as a sexual being again and not just the mother of his children.  We all deserve that.

Motherhood is a great thing and we shouldn’t be walking around looking like we’ve been given a life sentence. I mean in the first couple of years, it’s nearly impossible to afford yourself these little luxuries because you are so busy dogpaddling through motherhood but once you get your bearings, make the time to make yourself a priority. You deserve it.

These days, I still don’t have the time to spend hours at a spa getting hair, pedicures, manicures, massages and tans done but I can surely take the time after the kids are in bed to do at home treatments like hot oil treatments for my hair, Bliss Spa treatments for my body, face, feet and hands and an at-home St. Tropez instant tan. At home treatments have come along way, you don’t have to go from ivory to orange streaked these days, you can become a bronze goddess in the comfort of your own home for a fraction of the price of hitting the salon.

Why not take the time to make yourself a priority in your life? Whatever makes you feel like you; whether it be primping, new clothes, reading a good book, taking a long hot bath, exercising or just dancing around your bedroom listening to your favorite tunes, do it! You deserve it and, as I’ve learned through 8 years of motherhood, they’ve got to sleep sometime!

What do you do to make yourself a priority in your own life?


Disclosure: This is a sponsored post by St. Tropez but all opinions are my own.

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Honda, Odyssey, minivan

Dear Minivan Mommies,

Do NOT go gentle into that good night. Fight it. Rage against the temptation nay the spiritual castration that is the minivan. Sure they make them in secret agent squirrel charcoal and sleek Land Rover black. Ooh, they try to fool us into believing those minivans are cool. But remember your senses woman, a grocery getter, is the station wagon of the 70s, is the fast track to Loserville…population you and every other pajama jean wearing mother in the pick up line.

Sure my Mommy friends have tried to convince me that their minivan is cool. They pull up to stoplights all over suburbia and rev up their engine, taunting me beckoning me to race them. Their tricked out grocery getter van versus my sleek, sturdy, gas guzzling SUV. Any way you slice it ladies, no matter how tricked out your minivan may be…you my friend are no SUV.

I don’t care if it has a built in movie room, seating for 16, plush leather interior, a bed, a kitchen and a craft room. I don’t care if you can fit the entire football team and cheer squad in that bitch. I don’t even care if there’s a built in wine cooler and keg refrigerator for tailgating. I may have just lied to myself, a wine cooler and keg fridge could possibly cause me to take a second look. So what if you come with all the bells and whistles for less than the cost of my yearly Starbucks habit. I will not be seduced. Hell, your minivan’s baby changer/bather/breastfeeder combo and human butler do not impress me. I have standards.

You can’t look cool, singing the Wiggles and driving a small bus. You are not sexy with your pony tail blowing in the wind as your onstar directs you to the nearest Starbucks. I don’t give a flying rat’s ass what that creepy bald guy told you at the dealership. Tell him he can keep his pajama jeans, you don’t need them. You want a big SUV, with a lot of power so that you can show all the other soccer moms who’s really the boss and it ain’t Tony Danza. It’s the mom with the biggest tank and the most European vehicle.Keep in mind that SUV also comes in handy for running punk student drivers off the road, if the need should ever arise. I’m just saying.

I think Minivans should be outlawed. Every time I pull up behind one, I instinctively want to ram it in the rear.I loathe them. I look at the minivan and I see all the hopes and dreams of the women behind the wheel…crushed into dust as they soldier on, getting their groceries, taxing their children and having their spirit stolen from them. I see dead people where there used to be vibrant, independent women.

I know this is an irrational fear of a vehicle but I refuse to go gentle into that good night. I will fight it kicking and screaming. I will throw a full on two-year-old tantrum, I don’t care who stares with gaping mouth. I will rage against the minivan for as long as I can take breath into my chest and as long as I can fit my kids into my SUV. I am throwing down the gauntlet and vowing to you to never have more kids than I can fit into an SUV, no matter how you tart it up and prance it around in front of me.I will not fall for your sultry, vixen like ways. I will resist temptation. Are you pro minivan? Anti-minivan?

Are you a recent convert to the church of minivan?

**This post originally went live on October 11, 2011 but I have been looking at new vehicles and I needed the reminder to be strong because I’ve got to admit with 2 kids, that new Honda Odyssey minivan with the built-in vacuum cleaner “almost” made me a convert. I am afraid of what might happen if I actually test drove that minivan.

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asleepExhausted and weary, I frantically searched my bed for my pillow; the pillow that I have had since college that has been my source of comfort for all these years. Yes, I realize, I am a grown woman and I shouldn’t “need” a pillow but I did; I do. I’m an insomniac who gets little sleep and when I do, I am a creature of habit.

I got up and searched the floor surrounding the king sized bed and then my entire bedroom. Desperate for sleep, I tiptoed into my daughters’ bedroom to see if my pillow had found it’s way into a tent or play house. I searched by the light of my iPhone, trying not to impale myself on Barbie heels or stub my toe on an American Girl. Nope. It wasn’t in their tent nor in any make shift play house, not squished in a corner or thrown in a chair.

It was late and my desperation for sleep was rapidly increasing. I went back to my bed and tried to just sleep. Just lie there and drift off to sleep but my brain kept flashing “Where’s that Pillow?” It had to be here, somewhere.

Unfortunately, I am the person who jumps out of bed in the middle of the night if I am not sure that my keys are where they are supposed to be or if I’m not sure I put my credit card back in my wallet at the restaurant. I am that person. So, of course, there was absolutely no way I was going to sleep while that pillow was still out there. God knows where.

I got up and went downstairs and searched the first floor. Not in the living room, or media room. Hell, I even checked the bar room and the bathroom. Hey, with a 6 and 8-year-old, you never know where things might end up. Finally, I gave up; deflated and depressed; exhausted.

I climbed back into bed and in my spot was the tiny frame of my 6-year-old. I gently pushed her over as she clung to a pillow like a sighing little monkey in the dark. She was holding that pillow tight; like it was the last pillow on earth.

I slipped in behind her and cuddled her small body; not the squishy baby she was but not the awkward big girl she will soon become. In this moment, I was comforted holding my sweet little girl who still smells of green apples. She sunk deeper into me and somewhere between obsessing over losing my pillow and morning I drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I awoke to my sweet little girl still lying beside me and rousing awake. What was she clinging to so strongly during the night? My pillow.

“Hey, where did you get my pillow?”

“I took it!”


“Last night when I went to bed.”


“Because I wanted to feel like I am cuddling with you mommy!”

And then I melted because how could I argue? Why would I argue? They are only this little for a little while so, I gave it to her.

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Gabi, birthday, Oklahoma, tornadoIt feels weird to be celebrating in light of the terrible Oklahoma tornado tragedy. I feel guilty. How can I be happy and celebrating my child’s birthday when so many mothers  will never get to celebrate another birthday with their child? But how can I not, today more than ever. My heart is full of gratitude for all that I have. This month especially, I cling to my blessings.

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car seat, milestones, growing up, leting go, 8

growing up, car seats, milstones, motherhoodThe moments of motherhood that sneak up on you. Last week, my daughter turned 8. Wow, time is flying by at warp speed. Her birthday was on Sunday and it was preceded by complete chaos. There was a slumber party, the family party that concluded with the entire family shooting a Harlem shake video and Sunday, March 10, we celebrated officially; her father, her sister, her and myself. We always celebrate, just the four of us, on actual birthdays.

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miscarriage, loss, motherhood, daughtersAs I lay here cramping, a cruel reminder, stifling my tears as my 5-year-old brings up an old topic; one that we try not to discuss but has been lingering around my heart lately; the miscarriage we had last year.

It was this time last year that we conceived our third child. I know that. I’ve thought about it every day since Fat Tuesday but tonight, my 5-year-old asked me a simple question as she lay on my stomach and I read her a bedtime story, ” Mommy is there another baby in your tummy?”

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change, first communion, dress, growing upAs you may have noticed, change is inevitable in life in general for all of us and, more specifically, on my site in the last few days. If this is your first time here, you probably only noticed that holy smokes this woman likes her pink, like her men, hot! But really what you don’t know is that yes, while I do like the Big Guy hot, like my pink, my site has gotten a complete overhaul this past weekend. Thanks to my tech guru/ web design genius, the Big Guy. Hey, you know what they say, it’s cheaper to keep him. No way could I afford what he would charge for the pain in the ass kind of person I am to design for, especially since he undertook this task on my shark week. He is so brave. This was by far my favorite Valentine’s Day gift thus far.

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father's day

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valentine's day

If you need me, I’ll be loving on these people today!

Today is Valentine’s Day and it is no surprise to any of you who read this blog that I love the Big Guy and our girls truly, madly, deeply and unconditionally. Just as I am sure all of you do your partner in crime life and your children. But today, on this Valentine’s Day,  I am loving them truly, madly and deeply in real time. Aside from spending my waking moments loving on these people today ( right after the Big Guy and I see our way past this massive blow up we had this morning over who knows what) he and I will be spending the day at the girls valentine’s Day parties and then to our romantic supper for 4 ( because that’s how we roll) and then on to a grown up movie ( no not THAT kind of movie) and maybe some sweet Mommy and Daddy time in the conjugalorium. Oh yeah, the massive blow up….already forgotten.

Anyways, I know you are all busy living on your people in real time too today so I am sure you will understand when I leave you with these awesome testaments to love and marriage. They may make you laugh, they may make you cry and if they don’t suit you, keep looking around, we’ve got love covered ( the good, bad and ugly of it).

I Fucking Love You man.

Older, Wiser, Faster and Deeper

The proposal

Love Letter to my Husband

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby

It’s You they Add Up to

The First Day of My Life

Happy Accidents

And don’t even get me started on how much I love my girls.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Go love on someone.


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