The TRUTH About Motherhood

Tag: Parenting

Stop Waiting For “Special” Occasions, Do It NOW

Stop waiting for special occasions.
Do It Now!
Don’t Make Your Happiness Contingent on anyone else or conditionals. I will/can be happy when I …. is a crazy way to live your life. In fact, I have spent most of my life bartering with myself. When I get skinny, I will allow myself to finally be happy. When I do this, I will deserve that. When my daughters are no longer bickering and talking back, I can relieve myself of some of this mommy guilt. When my house is clean and my laundry is folded, I will be a good housewife. When I give my husband the attention he deserves, I will be a good wife. Then I beat myself up about all of it. It’s wasted energy.
You deserve happiness now. I.DESERVE.HAPPINESS.NOW! Not tomorrow or the day after or whenever I hit some imaginary goal, NOW! It shouldn’t be reserved only for special occasions. Tell people you love them. Dance like no one is watching. Don’t be afraid. Go for what you want. Celebrate every single day. Stop and see the beauty all around you. Every day that you are alive is a “special” occasion.
I’ve always been that kind of person who has hung my life on conditions and some imaginary set of rules for life. I don’t know why or how this started but I just never feel like I quite deserve success.I always feel like I need permission to just do what I want. Sounds crazy because I am the same person who believes that anything is possible through hard work and sacrifice. Maybe I only believe that applies to other people. It’s the mantra that I base my entire life on but then I just don’t quite feel like I deserve it, any of it. I feel like a fraud, in my own life.
I rush through the moments. Sort of like running through rain trying not to get wet. Instead of spending my life leisurely strolling through on a sunny day like I won the world and deserve all that life has to offer, I run from point to point trying to go unnoticed even when I want to be celebrated for my achievements. I half-ass a lot of things. I never give anything completely 100% because if I give 100% and it’s not good enough, then I am not good enough. I can’t give more than 100%, so if I hold back a little bit at least I can assuage myself with the knowledge that I didn’t try my best so sabotage is better than failure but success is never even an option when you live like that. Fulfillment can’t happen when you aren’t going all in.
Like a lot of people, I reserve things for special occasions; beautiful dresses that never get worn waiting for “special” enough occasions. China that never comes out for fear of being broken or the situation not being “special” enough. Furniture that stays covered, so many things that never get used but instead tucked away safely waiting for someday. Flowers we never cut and enjoy at our table for fear they will die. Well, I am tired of waiting for SOME DAY. I want to live my life all in TODAY. I don’t want to be afraid of breaking or damaging something before it’s appropriate time because if I keep living like this, I am wasting my life waiting. We’ve all done it. I’ll reward myself with this when I accomplish this. I will do that when I deserve it. You deserve it now. Just do it. Stop waiting, life is short.
I should have learned this lesson when I was in labor with my first baby. I refused to use the breathing technique until I was in full on transition labor at which point I couldn’t focus or catch my breath. I was in a silent moment of complete overwhelming terror and I had no way to get out because I had rationed my “breathing” for a “special” occasion, as if breathing itself was a luxury that I did not deserve. That’s my life in a nutshell. Hurriedly being stoic and never feeling the full weight of my joy.
So when I decided to make this summer the throwback summer, I thought I was doing it for my girls and I was, mostly because I wanted them to experience just playing and having fun and enjoying summer without a schedule but it’s slowed me down. I’ve been sitting and listening to my children laugh. I’ve been noticing the rhythm of the birds singing. I can feel the calm that the water brings as it splashes up into us when we play in the pool. I am breathing, all day long because that is what you are supposed to do. Air is free. I am walking more slowly. I am invested and present and you can’t believe how it changes your perspective. I have given myself permission to be happy and enjoy my life.
Today, I planned to make enchiladas, Mexican rice and refried beans for dinner. Usually, I hurry the kids out of the kitchen because it’s easier and quicker for me to do it myself. Today, I put on Mariachi music in the kitchen as I boiled the chicken. We were already running late but you can’t make chicken boil faster than it does. The girls were dancing, I was dancing and they were giggling and telling me to call them by their middle names, their “Latina” names. They said they were being full-on Latinas. They were really enjoying all of it and in turn I was happy to be doing it.
My 9-year-old loves to cook and she asked if she could help me prepare the meal. Again, normally, I would have brushed her off but today, I said yes. She was my sous chef. I mean when you think about it, this was a tremendous teaching moment and what kind of person would I have been to deny her of something so simple as helping her mother with dinner? So, she cooked the entire meal with me and it was the best meal I’ve eaten in a long time and I told her so. I mean this could be her passion. Who am I to deny her? The point is that it felt good to do this with my daughter, she felt good to be doing it and the food tasted great. A memory was made and I know my daughter didn’t feel rejected or dismissed. She felt empowered and accomplished and I had something to do with that.
There is a special contentment that comes from going all in. The other day, I was doing an assignment and I really put all of my time and attention into it. I didn’t hurry. I wasn’t thinking of all the other places I needed to be or things I needed to be doing, I was just present in my writing and it felt different. I felt the passion return. I guess my point of all of this is, be present and give 100 % at whatever you do; you are missing out on the best days of your life by running from shelter to shelter in life’s rain. Put your rain boots on and dance in that rain, jump in those puddles and don’t worry, you are stronger than you look. You won’t melt and you won’t believe how great true accomplishment, at something even as simple as listening to what your child is saying, will make you feel. I want to teach my girls to enjoy life, the simple moments because sometimes those that seem the most insignificant are the more unforgettable.
When’s the last time you allowed yourself to really and truly enjoy something without worrying about where you needed to be or what else you were supposed to be doing or waiting for special occasions?
2014/06/26
You Know what they Say About Making Assumptions
This is not the post that I meant to write today. I meant to write about my family road trip to Boston. And I want to be that person who just let’s things roll of her back. I really do but it’s Monday and I’m not accustomed to being called out and belittled for having an opinion. I’m all about respectful, intelligent debate but name calling is for children not intelligent adults.
See, way back in 2009, I started my blog. I called it The TRUTH about Motherhood because I was right in the thick of Motherhood and it seemed to fit my voice and where I was in life. I just wanted to write.
A friend of mine who worked in traditional media said that the wave of writing was moving to online and to get work, I needed an “online presence”. Hell, I had been neck deep in babies for the past four years, I had no idea what that even was and God knows I didn’t have the time to write about being a mom because I was too damn busy actually being a mom.
The first year was a joke. Seriously, I had no idea what I was doing. I had a few goals 1) develop my “online presence” whatever that was 2) when the kids napped or slept, write, write and write some more because I love to do it. It is how I process. I basically just copied essays that I had jotted down in a notebook for the girls about their childhood 3) to capture all the cute, funny, quirky moments of motherhood and document even the not so pleasant ones so I could appreciate the good ones and if I could help just one mom feel like she wasn’t alone, I’d be happy.
What happened that year was relocation across country that I never documented other than the original drive to Richmond to check out the city. I was too busy living to write about it. Then, things went to shit and my husband was downsized and we had to move home (blessing in disguise our home still hadn’t sold) in a blizzard.
We were quickly running through our money and afraid of what our future would hold with a toddler and a preschooler. The Big Guy (because my husband is 6’5” in case you didn’t know where the reference came from) took a job in another state because it was the only one he could find doing what he does and he made the sacrifice to work to support us and we all made the sacrifice to be apart 5 days a week. It was the worst 2 years of our lives. In those 2 years is when I really started to write.
You remember when you were in your teens and you were “in love” and there were so many ups and downs and drama and all you wanted to do was write poetry? Yeah, that’s called being inspired by your misery. I was going through a hard time and I had lots to write about. That’s where I found my people, moms who blog. I never understood what a “tribe” was until I found one as an adult. It’s more than a clique, it’s a group of people who support one another through good and bad.
I know bloggers are just regular people. I’m not delusional and don’t think they are actual celebrities but they care enough to get up and interact with the world by sharing their experiences. This meant a lot to me because at the time, I was hours away from any family and alone with kids. I needed someone to talk to, especially since my husband wasn’t there.
When you interact with people on such a personal level, I’m not talking just sharing recipes and diaper war stories, I mean the real stuff like marital issues, fertility issues, raising your child and feeling like a failure issues, feeling ugly and vulnerable and raw, the bonds are real and you see what’s on the inside (well, at least what they allow you to see). I have a tendency to have no filter so what you see is pretty much what you get.
I know that sometimes I am dorky, funny, boring, annoying and sometimes my stories are deep or interesting or shocking, sometimes they are well written and sometimes I am half-asleep or writing through the hardest moments of my life and it’s hard to type through tear filled eyes and ugly cries. Sometimes they are completely irrelevant to you and that’s okay because they are written for my children and me. You see it’s been a long time since I started blogging to become a writer. That has come to fruition. People actually pay me to write. I love my job. I am happy.
My blog is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination and neither am I. My hair is never perfectly coifed and my clothes are occasionally stylish but I am a tired mom who spends the bulk of my time trying to raise happy, interesting children, while maintaining an open and honest relationship with my husband and sometimes, I write on the Internet.
My blog is real and it is flawed, like me. I cuss on my site and sometimes I add too many commas. I am educated and not a hot “mommy mess” who loses her “mommy cool” at the drop of a hat. I do however have my issues, so I can see where the jump to full on emotional train wreck could be an easy one.
I don’t blow smoke up people’s asses nor do I befriend people solely for their social media stats because none of that matters to me. What matters to me is what kind of people they are on the inside and how they treat me. It’s not about who is the coolest or hottest blogger, not for me anyways. I’m not trying to sleep with them. I want someone who can relate to me.
As bloggers, we have a little bit of the real estate expertise from https://www.williampitt.com/search/real-estate-sales/fairfield-ct/. Change can come in all shapes and sizes, a charity campaign to raise funds for clean water, to bring awareness to pediatric cancer, to help someone through a shared difficult situation like a miscarriage or a medical diagnosis that might be hard to face alone. Online communities hold our virtual hands through all of life’s events, if we reach out and want it.
My friends that I have met online are not virtual. They are real people. They have lives, families, jobs, interests and situations outside of the Internet but the Internet is our meeting place.
I wrote this in case you are new here or you forgot who I was. Make no mistake, I tell my truth on my blog and I welcome friendly, intelligent debate. I have a lot of opinions, I know they are not the only ones but I won’t debate you with name-calling and tantrum throwing. I just want to write my blog, share my story and tell my truth.
2014/06/23
That One Time the School “Misplaced” My Daughter ( Throat Punch Thursday)
The end of the school year was last week and the unthinkable happened…the school misplaced my daughter. Errrr, how do you misplace an entire child? She’s not pocket sized. She’s an actual human being. She talks and breathes and walks and matters in the world. Uhm, she is my everything!
Has the school ever lost your child? I mean full on called your house to ask where your child was, after you knew you dropped them off? If it’s never happened to you, count yourself lucky. If it has, I am so sorry. I have never been so terrified as when the school called last week, looking for my 6–year-old. LOOKING.FOR.MY.6-YEAR-OLD!!!!!!
I always cringe when the school calls my house anyways because I am sure someone is sick or I’ve signed up for something and forgotten all about it. Gabs has been having some allergy issues lately and been a little anxious so I figured somebody needed a hug and reassurance from her mommy. I figured, the no sleep and sneezing and drainage had finally caught up with her but no, it wasn’t that at all.
They MISPLACED my kid.
“Hi, Mrs. Gabi’s Mom we noticed that Gabi isn’t at school this morning. Why is that?”
Me: “Huh? What? Yes, she is at school. I dropped her off at the office and watched her walk in through all 3 sets of doors! What the hell do you mean she isn’t there????”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have missed her. Maybe they accidentally marked her absent. I’ll call down. Do you want to hold?”
“Uh, yeah! I’m not hanging up until you have eyes on my daughter!”
“I’m sorry, Looks like the kids are still at mass. I will check on this when they get back. Do you want me to call you back?”
“No, you need to find my daughter NOW! I will hold or I can come up there!”
“Oh, looks like they are headed back right now. Hold, please.”
Exasperation, tension, sickness, must not vomit, seeing red, must not kill anyone, Fear, please don’t pass out. Cold sweats. Deep breaths! Hold your shit together, Debi. Gah, I can’t breathe.
“Mrs. Gabi’s Mom, she’s here and she’s fine. The teacher said it was an oversight, a long story and she wouldn’t tell me. She is here, safe and sound. Sorry for worrying you. I am so sorry for scaring you.”
WTF?????
Choking back tears and literally trembling, “Thank you for calling and thank you for finding her. Please don’t lose my girls again.”
I accepted her apology because she was sincerely sorry, I could hear it in her voice. The same way I am sure that she could hear my sheer panic, fright and then anger. What I did not accept is a teacher who didn’t have time to explain the “long story” so I emailed her and this is what I received in reply.
Me: Just wanted to see what happened this morning. I received a call that Gabi wasn’t at school. There were a couple minutes there where I was really freaking out. You can imagine. The secretary said that you said that the misunderstanding was a long story. I need you to explain to me what happened and why the office thought she was absent, long story and all.
Teacher who lost my kid: Yes. She was tardy this morning. I had already marked her absent. I asked her if she had gotten a yellow slip. She told me that she had been to the office and they told her not to get a yellow slip. I assumed that they office would remember this and figure it out – but I guess in the busy-ness of the morning they did not. Or else Gabi misunderstood. Anyway, that’s what happened. All is well here!
Maybe I was just too upset but I took her reply to be very flippant. I don’t think you have the right to be flip with a parent when you “misplace” their child. For all I knew, she could have been kidnapped, hurt or dead. She may just be another student to them but to me, her mother, she is everything.
What would you have done if the school misplaced your child?
2014/06/05
Two 12-year-olds tried to Commit Murder & Claim Slender Man Made Them Do it
Have you heard of SlenderMan?
Me neither but apparently he’s pretty big on the Internet. Two 12-year-old girls, Morgan Geyser and Anissa Weier, from Waukesha, Wisconsin plotted since December, lured and almost carried out the vicious stabbing and murder of a classmate the day after her birthday just to see if they could earn entrance into the mythical realm of the Slender Man. The assailants read about Slender Man online and wanted to join the cult of the Slender Man. To gain entrance, you must kill someone.
The girls invited the victim to their home for a sleepover and then lured her into a nearby park under the guise of a game of hide-and-seek, as children do. All of the people involved in this scenario are 12-year-old children, mind you. Once they had the victim alone in the woods, one held her down as the other stabbed her 19 times, very nearly fatally injuring her.
As a mother, as a human being, I am afraid for this world. I am afraid for my children. I am afraid for all of us that there are children out there who are not only so easily swayed and influenced but have the fortitude and deviousness to carry something like this out. I walk around in a state of fear because I love my children so much and the world has gone mad. I want to encase them in a bubble and shield them from all the crazies of the world; the Morgan Geysers and Anissa Weiers, the Elliot Rodgers and the Adam Lanzas but then I think about the mothers of these children, the murderers.
These mothers who have to live with the loss of their children. Who have to suffer the humiliation and sadness of knowing what their child did to the world. The guilt of living with the what ifs. How do you separate the love for your child, your baby, from the hatred of the crime they have committed? I don’t think any of us could just stop loving our children, no matter how heinous their behavior was. A parent’s love is unconditional and never ending, in my experience. How do they go on, once their child has forsaken humanity in such a vial way?
Then again, maybe these girls are just evil enough to be using all of this as a bullshit reason. Maybe they don’t believe in Slender Man? Maybe they are not as young and impressionable as we might think and would kill for a meme? Maybe they tried and failed and now they are saying and doing whatever it takes to get out of trouble. Either way, three girls lives have been changed forever. The course of their existence is altered. Three sets of parents have to learn to live with what has been done and we all have to face, once again, that no matter how we might try, we cannot truly protect our children from the evils of this world.
What do you think should happen to these girls? Do you believe Slender Man made them do it?
2014/06/03
Permission to Be….Ourselves
Why do we need permission? Who made these rules we all live by? In the last 24 hours I have went against my “better” judgment twice and both were better choices for me. Yesterday, I was tired and instead of doing what I normally do and miserably powering through my day and just getting things done. Going through the motions really. I stopped. I turned on the fan, closed the blinds and cuddled into my bed and napped for 3 hours. Right there in broad daylight, like I was a baby or a woman of leisure. I woke up and I felt rested and happy. I was in a great mood when I picked up my children from school. I was more patient and kind. I was a better mother than the miserably exhausted person who was there that morning before the nap. I cooked a big dinner and enjoyed the process. I never enjoy the process. It’s usually something that I do because I have to, like laundry. The dinner tasted great. Everything was better but it was all tinged with my secret…the nap. I felt guilty; guilty for actually responding to the needs of my own body. What craziness is that? If I don’t take care of myself, who will? I told my husband my dirty little secret, the nap, and he did not make fun of me or say something flip, he was genuinely glad that I gave my body what it needed. The guilt was lifted and now naps are on the table☺
This is the problem with so many of us. We go through life doing what is expected of us and we are miserable. Who made these rules that we have to follow x, y and z in life? We feel beholden to a certain way of parenting, being married, achieving success even being physically acceptable. If we don’t fit the mold then we feel guilty because obviously we’ve don’t something wrong. We have some deficit. I say fuck the mold. I want to break the mold.
We accept these expectations of us to be fact. They are not! Why are we all made to believe that life is a spinning wheel and once we choose a wheel we are confined to it like a prison for all of eternity? It’s not true and if we just took a minute to think about it logically. If we took a moment to breathe and trust our own instincts, to listen to our own heart, we would realize that we know what is best for ourselves, for our relationships and for our children.
Every day is the chance for a new beginning. I am tired of spinning that wheel that chose me. I want to do what I choose to do; not what life has chosen for me. I want to choose the path my life takes, not follow the path expected of me. I want to be who I want to be not who I am expected to be and more importantly I want to be happy. No one knows what can make me happy and no one can truly make me happy, that is something that I have to take responsibility for. Happiness is internal. It is fulfillment and every person’s fulfillment is different.
I lie awake at night with insomnia worried about all of the things that I didn’t do or need to do the next day because it’s what’s expected of me. I usually go against my better judgment and do what’s expected of me from society. But this morning, after I dropped my daughters off at school as I was pulling out, the car in front of me died. It was a mother who had rushed out the door 2 blocks and ran out of gas. I asked her what happened and she explained. My brother, whose sons also go to the same school, was pulling up as I was pulling over to park to help her. We both got out of our cars and pushed her out of the road and into the median at school. I let her use my phone to call her husband to bring her gas and then I drove her home. Now, to be clear, this is not something I would normally do because you know …I don’t know her. She could have been a psycho or she could have just been a stranded mom. I chose to believe she was someone who genuinely needed my help.
After I dropped her off, I even called the school to make sure they didn’t tow her car because she was so overwhelmed at the situation I doubt she remembered to call them. When I dropped her off, she genuinely thanked me. Someone let me help them. This made my day. It felt great to help her. I felt like I did something good.
The thing is a lot of people just backed out and went around her. It didn’t matter to them that it was 5 degrees out and snowing. It didn’t matter to them that there might have been children in a minivan leaving a Catholic school. They just went around. I don’t blame them because we live in a time where we walk past beggars in the street because we don’t know if they are going to use the money for food or for alcohol or drugs. We don’t stop and help stranded drivers because they could be crazed serial killers who might chop us to bits. We don’t let our kids play outside unattended because everyone’s a potential kidnapper or pedophile. We’ve become conditioned to not trust anyone and our skepticism is keeping us from being the good people we want to be. Our cynicism is keeping us from committing the random acts of kindness we all talk so much about. Don’t get me wrong, an unexpected free cup of Starbucks coffee is fantastic but we can do so much more. We can truly help people in need. We can be happy.
It’s true, we can’t know the hearts of others. We can’t dictate how a homeless person spends the money we give them. We could bring them food or clothes instead of money, I suppose. What we can dictate is how we react to the situation. That is all we can control. We can choose to do the right thing. We can choose to be those changes we want to be. We can choose to follow our hearts and not do what others expect of us because when we do what is expected, we fail everyone, most of all ourselves.
So, I am asking you today to make the decision to follow your heart, listen to your body and do not measure yourself by anyone else’s standards. Be you. Be happy. Love big. Live big. Give of yourself and you will be surprised at what you get in return. In place of going through the motions, you will find yourself living no holds barred out loud and fully. Maybe even taking a much needed nap.
What would you do if you followed your heart? What would make you happy? Give yourself permission to be you.
2014/02/27
The Moments that Take Your Breath Away
This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of the Home Run Inn pizza.
Have you ever had one of those days that are so hectic that you just can’t seem to catch your breath? As parents, those early days seem so long and exhausting and we spend a lot of the time wishing for tomorrow when things will be easier. Suddenly, they begin to fly by and in the blink of an eye, their childhood is slipping through your fingers. Days that used to be filled with random hugs and holding helpless little babies are suddenly filled, from sunrise to sunset, with scheduled activities and obligations. Blink once more and your once “helpless” baby is leaving home for college.
When we are in the thick of parenting a small child, it’s easy to forget to “live in the moment” and enjoy the subtle nuances of motherhood. Who can think of stepping back and enjoying a moment when you are overwhelmed by a toddler and a newborn who are depending on you for everything, right.this.moment? It’s nearly impossible to relax enough to enjoy parenting when you are actually parenting, if you are not reminded. Parenting is challenging work. It’s taken me a couple years to figure this out but I’ve realized, making memories is not about buying the perfect toy or throwing the perfect birthday party.It’s not about the “perfect” thing. It’s not the Christmas gifts or the extravagance of the family vacations that your children will look back on in 30 years and remember about their childhood. It’s about how they felt in those moments; how it smelled, tasted, looked and sounded. That’s what they will remember.

I still remember Sunday mornings in our house growing up, the house always smelled like gravy and biscuits. I know that we all went to church and wore our Sunday best but what I remember most vividly and fondly are the smells of breakfast cooking after mass. The laughter that filled the house as we all joked around together. The sight of my brothers and sisters talking or my dad sneaking a quick kiss from my mom, when they thought no one was paying attention, as he peeked in to see how much longer until breakfast was ready. I have no idea what the clothes we wore were or how much they cost. It’s all about the way it felt to be there in that kitchen on those Sunday mornings. That’s what I want for my girls.I want them to one day look back fondly on our time together and long for that time and space.
In our house, Friday night is family night. We all know this. We never make plans with anyone else. There are no date nights, activities scheduled or birthday party invites accepted. Friday nights are just for the four of us. It usually means take out and watching television or a movie together but sometimes it means a frozen pizza, eaten on the couch as we laugh and enjoy each other’s company. I grew up in the Chicagoland area, so I sometimes choose Home Run Inn pizza. Not only does it remind me of home, it’s also all natural and made with real cheese and no preservatives, so I can feel good about feeding it to my family.

I know in 30 years my girls won’t remember what movie we watched together, who wore what or even what we ate but they will remember the gooey cheese filled smiles, the laughter, the unconditional love and acceptance that you feel in those moments shared with people you love. Maybe someday when they are having family night with their own children and the smell of pizza wafts through the house, they will remember two things 1) how unconditionally and completely loved they were by us and 2) to stop , look around and enjoy those moments with their own children.
Have you tried Home Run Inn pizza before? What taste transports you back to a favorite memory?

Disclosure: This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of the Home Run Inn pizza.
Photo: Webb Zahn, SitsGirls
2014/02/15
How to be Happy this Valentine’s Day; No Date Needed
Happy Valentine’s Day!
This isn’t my usual gushy Valentine’s Day post that I write about the Big Guy. We are celebrating tomorrow night thanks to a couple of awesome grandparents who are keeping the girls overnight. I’m sure there’s a gushy post coming but this is not it. Nope today, I have been crazy busy with volunteer work, Halloween parties and making 60 homemade Valentine’s Day cards for my daughters’ classmates because obviously, Pinterest has ruined my children but this is how my day started. Which was the perfect way to start my day just because, he always knows the right thing to say. I Love this man so much. He loves me like no one else can. (**OK, that may have been a little bit gushy. Sorry, I can’t help it. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in hearts all day.) Then,over breakfast, the girls and I did a mass name signing to half made, homemade Valentine’s Day cards for their classes. We were under a time crunch for sure but I refused to let this steal my joy. We giggled and laughed through the whole hurried, chaotic ordeal. With only minutes to spare we loaded into the SUV and started our new morning ritual…listening to “Happy” by Pharrell from door to door. Yes, we dance all the way there. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood when listening to it. Seriously, it’s not possible, especially not when you see the two people you love most in the world , in the rearview mirror, off the hook car dancing and singing at the top of their lungs, “Because.I’m.Happy!!!
I dropped them off but had to come right back for 4 hours of volunteer work at the school. I was in desperate need of coffee, if I was going to keep up my new found “Happy” attitude. So I headed to Starbucks, courtesy of a surprise “Just because” gift card I received. Those are always awesome! I ordered my coffee. I was so excited for Starbucks because I have cut way back on my Starbucks consumption. I, honestly, don’t remember the last time I bought one. I get to the window to pay with my gift card in hand and the happiest barista I’ve ever met tells me to enjoy my Valentine’s Day because the woman in front of me paid for my coffee. I was so stunned by an actual random act of kindness, because I’ve never been the recipient end, that I forgot to pay for the person behind me but I will rectify that on my next visit. What is it about pay it forward Starbucks that makes it taste so damn good? YUMMMM!@ I went to school in such a great mood and did my volunteer work with a giant smile and a happy attitude. I was passing out compliments and smiles like they were condoms at a frat party. I was giving them to everybody I made eye contact with. Not even cutting out and addressing 60 handmade cards and running a class party on a skeleton crew. Then this happened. My 3rd Grader repurposed one of her homemade Valentine’s Day cards to say “If parents were flowers….I’d pick you!” while her sister gave me an “I LOVE YOU!” eraser and then there was the homemade “Owl be Your Valentine!” Swoon. Damn, I am happy. My house is dirty, my hair is in a ponytail, the laundry needs to be folded but I am loved and really, when you’ve got these many people who love you so damn much…. what else do you need? Now, go commit obscene amounts of random acts of kindness and make someone smile because believe me, that simple act can change someone’s entire day. So, I hope your Valentine’s Day is filled with love and every day after that too. Now, go get Happy!
Happy Valentine’s Day!

2014/02/14
Falling Only Makes Us Stronger
Falling only makes us stronger.I saw this video and I sat there with a giant lump in my throat because I am still at the pick them up, kiss the booboos and tell them to get back up and carry on. I tell them to carry on because that is what I am supposed to do but each time I watch my girls stumble and fall, I hold my breath and my heart aches for their pain.
It’s very difficult for me to tell them to carry on when all I want to do is take all the pain away and tell them they don’t have to do it again. Any pain, emotional, physical or spiritual inflicted on my child makes a chink in my own soul. It wounds me to my very core but as a mother, I have to teach them to persevere; to work hard and fight the pain because life is not easy. Hard work is needed for success and when we fall, we learn to pick ourselves back up. We become stronger and better people. We have to let them fall so that they can learn to get back up. I watch with baited breath at every new beginning and hope they can achieve what they set out to accomplish and if they do, I celebrate along with them and if they fail, I encourage them to try again. That’s what moms and dads do.
We teach them that everything is possible with hard work and determination. We teach them that if they fall, we will be there to pick them up and kiss their booboos. We teach them that falling down is not failure and getting back up to try again is success. We encourage them to continue on, even when they want to quit because sometimes little legs and arms are tired but we must teach them perseverance and the value of hard work. We teach them that they must face life’s challenges. But most of all, by letting our children fall, we show them that our love is unconditional and we love them no matter if they fail or succeed. We love them, so we let them fall no matter how much it breaks our hearts.
How have you had to watch your child fall?
2014/01/08
People Without Children Should STFU about Parenting
I love British humor and this comedian, Michael McIntyre, has wrapped up parenthood about as well as anyone ever has. He says what we’ve all thought at one time or another, people who don’t have kids have no idea what they are talking about when they discuss parenting or offer their advice on how you, in your sleep deprived, baby brain, overwhelmed self, can be a better parent if you would only just stop making it so damn hard.
My daughters are 6 & 8, so I have been doing this parenting thing for quite a while now. I love it almost every single moment but there are moments like when my 6-year-old wakes up in the middle of the night, goes to the potty ( in my bathroom after turning on the light in the hallway in my room) sits down and when I go to check on her, promptly develops the worst case of potty rage, I have ever seen. “Get.OUT.MOMMY@!!! I don’t want you in here!” This usually continues for about 30 minutes until I give up and my husband comes in to help at which point she screams at the top of her lungs that she now hates him and wants me.Then she walks past us both and gets in our bed and hogs all of the covers.
Or what about every morning when the same said 6-year-old, who is a complete sweetheart between the hours of 8 am and 7 pm, wakes up shouting that she doesn’t want to get up. She’s tired. I’m mean and her stomach/eye/nose/butt/and/or ankle are all hurting her and I don’t care.You know why? Because it’s hard to care when she does it every day and she spent the previous night waking you up to yell at you that she hates you in her potty rage. Then she stares at her food for 30 minutes, only to complain that it is cold when she takes her first bite. When she does finally make it upstairs, she dawdles around for another 20 minutes which ends in a fast and furious mad dash for the front door with hair being brushed out the door, shirts not tucked, forgetting water/snack/book or homework and usually, her yelling, “Why do you always rush me?” Let’s not even get started on her sister who has mastered the art of the eye roll and walkaway.
Anyways, this comedian has mastered the toddler/preschool years. I know, I’ve been there. Some days we still have to beg the 6-year-old to put on her damn shoes and walk out the door. It’s fun to watch if you’re not in the middle of it and he is so right, people without kids have no idea because they have nothing to compare it to. Just like you can’t explain labor to a person who’s never given birth because they can listen but they can not understand the all consuming pain that comes with evicting an unwilling dweller from your body.
So, 25-year-old lady at the grocery store with the perfectly manicured nails, clean clothes, bright eyed and bushy-tailed because she got laid before her 10 hours of sleep, stop giving me dirty looks when I hand my kid my phone to keep her occupied so I can get the groceries I need to feed her before she decides to go off like a nuclear bomb in this joint because she missed nap time. And never, ever, if you value your life, give parenting advice to a parent if you don’t have children of your own because you might think you know what it’s like but you have no fucking idea of the things we’ve seen and done since giving birth. You should be afraid, be very afraid!
2013/11/13
Blackfish & Why Taking our Kids to SeaWorld Makes Us Part of the Problem
I just watched Blackfish. You can watch it here. If you haven’t seen it, you need to. It will change the way you view SeaWorld. It will change the way you view all animals in captivity. It will change the way you see the world. It will make you realize that there needs to be ethics and compassion involved when dealing with nature. This has nothing to do with SeaWorld being a fun place to take your children on vacation, or whether or not the trainers there love the Orca, I am sure they do, but it has everything to do with the morals and ethics that you want to instill in your children.
Blackfish only solidified everything I’ve believed since I was 18 and took my first ethics and animals class at college; wild animals do not belong in captivity. It is cruel and unusual and if we want to see animals go see them in the wild; in their natural habitat. We can coexist but animals are not meant to be penned in and locked up because we think we are entitled to be entertained by them on a whim. Zoos, circuses and aquariums they all make me uncomfortable.
There are people , mostly higher ups at Seaworld, who will try to say that captivity is furthering conservation and research but at what price? The Orca have no natural predators they are the top of the food chain, they only thing they need protecting from is us…the humans. We are their only threat.
Would you like to be kept in a cage for the rest of your life? We do keep people in cages, it’s called jails and it’s for punishment. Why are we punishing the animals? What have they done to deserve this treatment? They were just existing in their world when we came in and stole them from their families, frightened them, dislocated them and took them from everything they knew only to punish them for a crime they didn’t commit.
Wild animals are wild and to expect any different from them because we hold them in captivity is ignorant on our part. We are lazy. We want to see these majestic animals but only on our terms; at our convenience. We have no concern for the animals. They are not inanimate objects. They feel and in the case of the more intelligent animals, like Orca whales, elephants and Chimpanzees, they understand family, loss, love and grief. How can we in good conscience treat them like this?
We’ve all seen and heard of animals attacking. We say it was unprovoked. I say it was more of a miracle it didn’t happen earlier or more often. Just because we want to believe that we have tamed a wild animal by stealing a baby Orca, an animal that stays with it’s mother in the wild until death, from it’s mother, stealing the baby from a mother who grieves, holding it in captivity and withholding food and affection as a means of beating it into submission to making it perform for our entertainment, we do not. What we are doing, in the case of the Orca, is taking an animal that has the lifespan of a human being and habitually pissing them off and then letting them live for 30+ years holding a grudge. We are making these animals into ticking time bombs.
We are the idiots for expecting anything different. We are fools for climbing into the pools with an animal that weighs 12000 lbs and not expecting to be in a dangerous situation. I don’t blame the animal. I blame the people who put the animal in these horrible situations. Imagine being stuck in an enclosure the size of your bathtub for the rest of your life, with a bunch of strangers who don’t like you and depending on others to feed you when all you really want is to be with your own family, in your natural habitat swimming all day and eating at your own leisure. That’s enough to make anyone psychotic.
We’re not saving them from anything. We are creating monsters out of animals who would otherwise peacefully coexist with us. We are punishing them by keeping them in captivity for our entertainment. Don’t support captivity.
If we stop going to these places, they will have no reason to keep these animals in captivity. By going, we are all part of the problem. If you want to see Orca whales go to the ocean and see them in their natural habitat, where they are free and happy. I don’t want to teach my children that it’s okay to support another creatures misery nor do I want them to think it is right or acceptable to play with wild animals. Do you?
2013/10/29