Tag:

raising daughters

dream big princess, dream, how to succeed, Disney, princess

This post is sponsored by Disney but all opinions to dream bigger are my own.

My big dream for the upcoming months is to dream bigger; to embrace change, to give myself permission to go for my dreams with everything I’ve got.

I’ve always been someone who firmly believes that “where there is a will there is always a way” (with a lot of hard work and dedication) but I hold back. Even though the possibilities are endless, something stops me. There’s always this little voice inside me, quietly whispering, “but what if you fail?”

I go after things with my everything (especially if it involves protecting or standing up for others. I’m a mom, it’s what we do) but when it’s just about me, I don’t always go all in because the possibility of failure terrifies me. Finally, I’ve realized that there is something so much worse than failing and that is not trying at all.

“The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.” – Walt Disney

When I was a little girl, watching the Disney Princess movies, I loved the vivid colors and happy endings. Princesses were flawed like the rest of us and yet they somehow figured it all out in the end. I think that’s what made me want to be a princess the most.

I learned early on that I was the only one who could make my dreams come true but it wasn’t going to be easy. You have to be willing to put everything on the line to make dreams come true and that’s part of what makes them so special. I like to believe that will is a wish with a lot of work behind it.

A dream is not something that happens to you, a dream coming true is something that you have to be willing to work hard and sacrifice for.

dream, how to succeed, Disney, princess

“I have been up AGAINST TOUGH COMPETITION ALL MY LIFE. I WOULDN’T KNOW HOW TO GET ALONG WITHOUT IT.” – WALT DISNEY

As I embraced the belief that I could make my dreams come true it changed my way of thinking. The dreams got bigger the moment I realized that the only one who could stop me was me.

Take Cinderella, for instance, she was abandoned to a life of servitude after her father’s death but she didn’t give up on her dreams. She kept going after her dreams and never let anyone make her believe that she was less than. The possibilities were literally endless and I decided that no one was going to get in my way, including myself.

I felt a closeness to the story of Cinderella because, like me, she was a poor little girl with no prospects and no one to pave her way but herself. Her “never give up” attitude, her self-confidence, and her quiet determination is what got her through the hard times. She made her dream a reality by never giving up.

Actually, the older I’ve gotten and after having daughters of my own, I relate to so many of the princesses because I see the moral of the stories. I love the story of Tiana because she made her own dreams come through by working hard and never giving up. I find that admirable on every level. Merida is a hero of mine because of her bravery and willingness to forge her own way but I also loved the mother/daughter storyline. I watched it with my own daughters and it inspired me.

Mulan inspires little girls everywhere to be anything they want to be because our femininity is not a limitation. Then there is Elena who is the first Latina princess and I love her because she is someone my daughters can relate to culturally. The sisterly love story behind Elsa and Anna also made them a favorite of ours because, in our family, the family is everything.

dream, how to succeed, Disney, princess, dream big princess

“When you believe in a thing, believe it all over, implicitly and unquestioningly.” – Walt Disney

Some dreams are worth never giving up on. I married my “prince,” my best friend and partner in life. He encourages me to pursue my dreams. My girls look to me to set the tone. I want my children and my children’s children to know that any dream they have is a possibility.

The thing about dreams is you have to be willing to put your everything into it, be willing to work until you pass out from exhaustion, and more importantly you can’t be afraid of failure because the only thing worse than failure is not trying. There is no shame in trying and failing.

Not giving up on your dreams is what I’m teaching my little princesses by being the example that never giving up and working hard for your dreams pays off in the end, even if it is just being profoundly happy trying. It’s better than being miserable not.

My big dream is to fight as hard for myself as I have always fought for everyone and everything else I love in this world. I want to be more present as a mother (not just involved or physically there but I want to listen and hear my children), I want to make more “us” time for my husband, I want to travel everywhere and show my children the world and I want to take my success in my career to the next level by going after everything I want, even if it terrifies me. I want my daughters to know those wonderful things can happen if you just dare to dream hard enough.

dream big princess, dream, how to succeed, Disney, princess

What would you dare to dream if you weren’t afraid?

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icrescendo fasting work best for women, intermittent fasting, crescendo fasting, fasting for women, weight loss secrets, eating disorders, anorexia

As the mother of two little girls living in a world that judges a woman’s value on her beauty and how skinny she is, I have spent their lifetime teaching them that they are better than good enough. As a product of that world myself, I have spent my lifetime just trying to feel comfortable in my own skin. We live in a world where people would rather be skinny than happy and where grown women measure their success by their thigh gaps and bikini bridges. Our daughters see this. They are affected.

The fact of the matter is that we live in a world where media treats women like they are objects of beauty; to be seen and not heard. This weighs heavily on a young girl and every thought and action becomes a deliberate choice with ripples that will resonate throughout her entire life. To be seen is to be vulnerable but to be unattractive is to be invisible, which feels almost as bad.

Like many women, I’ve spent years trying to be seen and simultaneously unseen. Passing through space and time from a beautiful child, thru the uncertainty of the teen years and then being thrust at warp speed into the sexual irresistibility of womanhood only to find ourselves sliding into middle age before fading into old age and ultimately death. Why do we allow ourselves to be defined by other people’s perception of who we are?

Little girls come into this world full of hope and beauty and as we age, our beauty fades. It’s no coincidence that so does our hope. We learn pretty early on that the more attractive we are, the more wonderful place the world is for us to be in. By the time the awkwardness of puberty and the teen years hit, our confidence has been shaken and by the time we go to college, most of us will do just about anything to live up to that expectation of beauty.

I know this from firsthand experience. Body dysmorphic disorder had me in its cold dead grip by the time I was 12 and by the time I was 17, I was restricting my food. By 18, I was in college and terrified of what the freshman 15 would mean to my appearance, I was severely restricting my calories, working out for at least 2 hours a day and throwing up every single thing that entered into my body; even water. It was the only way that I felt I had any control over what was happening to me. I will spend the rest of my life in recovery from this. I still occasionally find myself bent over a toilet deciding whether or not to take that next step.

To this day, every taste of food or sip of liquid that enters my mouth is noted. Many days when I look in the mirror, I am frozen in shame at my reflection. Self-loathing has become such a part of who I am that when I look in the mirror and actually like what I see, it surprises me. I am not surprised about this because just over the weekend I saw things that made me understand that I did not do this to myself. I am a product of a society that values men on their strength and intelligence and women on their beauty.

My friend wrote about a throw pillow at Nordstrom that reads,

“To hell with beauty sleep, I want skinny sleep.”

What a shallow and callous statement for Nordstrom to make to the world about women. I am sure that the buyer at Nordstrom thought the pillow was funny but it’s not. It’s a symptom of the sickness of our society.

Another friend wrote this on her FB status: “… If I were to eat a freaking BOX of Twinkies I would have no choice but to divorce my husband and leave my children and go live on an island where I would befriend a community of wild gorillas and be alone and fat forever!”

This makes me so sad because aside from her feeling that if she were unattractive she’d be doomed to a life of unhappiness, this particular woman is absolutely gorgeous and it troubles me that she feels that her happiness in life is so closely attached to her beauty. It saddens me that any of us feel this way because try as we may to not share these feeling with our little girls we do. They see things and hear things when you think they are not paying attention. They see the disappointment in our faces when our jeans are a little snug or the self-loathing that comes after eating carbs. They know and it seeps in to their tiny little minds and soon, they are watching what they eat. Questioning if they should eat at all.

Then we have become part of that same society that has made us this way. We have become part of the problem. The only way we can change this is to learn to love and accept ourselves. Believe me, I know this is harder than it sounds. But for our little girls, we have to try to love ourselves. After all, we’ll all be skinny, when we’re dead.If you won’t do it for yourself, think about your daughters. I don’t want for my girls, what I have experienced. I want better. Don’t you?

If you think I am overreacting, think about how many times you have hung your happiness on how skinny or beautiful you looked.

 

Photo JustJasmine

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good girls, unicorns, raising daughters, women, sex

Dear Preston Waters,

I read your piece about good girls today being as illusive as the unicorn; non-existent. I hope you are wrong. I am a unicorn who is currently raising two unicorns (as you call them). I am teaching them to have respect for themselves and do what makes them happy in life. Life is too short to live by other people’s rules; especially when the rules are not clear and ever changing. Good girls are not extinct, maybe you are just too pompous and stupid to see them because you are so busy going for the easy piece of ass and then disregarding the girl who showed you charity.

I agree that we live in a world where more women are sexually asserting themselves. We live in a world of selfies and social media gone wild. People taking nude photos of themselves and uploading them to the internet or sexting them and having them end up in the wrong hands has become common place. The world has become so small that sometimes we forget that we are not alone with our computer, camera or phone. We forget that the Internet is vast and permanent. Forever. Talk about never being able to outgrow the sins of your youth.

good girls, unicorns, raising daughters, women, sex

Women have not lost all morals and respect for themselves, you are just more aware of their indiscretions thanks to social media. Men and women have been making mistakes since the beginning of time. We still have dignity, only now we also have the Internet and our every mistake can live on in infamy. What’s so wrong with a woman enjoying sex, anyways?

Mr. Waters you are complaining because men have finally gotten everything they ever wanted, women who are willing and able to have consensual sex with you on her terms. No more begging, no more bullying her into it; nope, now women realize that they can choose to embrace their own sexual appetites without being a whore. Still, your misogyny won’t let you accept your gift. We’ve finally broken free of the shackles of patriarchal approval. We finally care more about what we think about ourselves than what you think of us.

good girls, unicorns, raising daughters, women, sex

The story has not changed. Men have always liked the chase more than the actual prize. Women figured this out a long time ago. This is why I was a virgin until I was in college. You’ve always wanted the good girl who plays hard to get but is a complete freak in private. But you don’t want to believe that she has ever been with anyone else, ever. So, we’ve let you believe what you wanted.

“Then you have drugs, uppers being predominant, and many women are addicted to prescription pills to help their “anxiety.” In short, women have become easy, but they have also become broken — and eventually become undesirable because no one stays hot forever. Sure, we men are to blame for this as well, but that is because we are idiots.” Well, you got one thing right.

Mr. Waters, I don’t think that you would know a unicorn if it bit you in the ass. All women are born unicorns. If they are broken, it is life, full of it’s double standards,painful situations and callous men who treat women like whores that have broken them.

good girls, unicorns, raising daughters, women, sex

The problem Mr. Waters is not with the unicorns, it is with assholes like you who put women into categories; whores and virgins. We are more than what resides between our legs. Maybe you need to become a unicorn yourself if you want to attract a unicorn because unicorns don’t want to marry assholes; we prefer unicorns too.

Sincerely,

A Unicorn

good girls, unicorns, raising daughters, women, sex

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menstruation, co-sleeping, co-toileting, attachment parenting, humor, raising girls

Today, I am going to tell you a little story about raising daughters and menstruation. No, it has nothing to do with half-naked selfies but it just might be TMI so if you are squeamish about lady parts or feminine hygiene products and the such, I should warn you do not read any further. If you faint at the sight of blood? Stop! Do not continue reading! Back the truck up and run in the other direction.Go. Run. Fast. It’s about to get real up in here. For real, for real!

As many of you know, I have two little girls that I am trying to raise with self-confidence, independence and verve for life. I want them to live life so fully that they just grab it with both hands and jump. I want them to live life on their own terms. I want happiness and equality for them but more than anything else, I want them to always know they can come to me.about.anything. ANYTHING! That includes pubic hair, menstruation, boobs and yes, even sex, masturbation and childbirth.

I parent with honesty and openness. I want them to ask questions. We talk about everything. If they ask, I answer. I am trying to build trust and respect to compliment the unconditional love. I want them to not only be children that I love but people that I like and I hope they feel the same way about me one day but today, I am their mommy and my job is to mother them.

Anyways, sometimes even when you think you are doing it right, things get muddled and you are left wondering WTH just happened? This is what happened to me yesterday in the bathroom at Panda Express. Don’t judge.

The girls had their well visits yesterday and got a surprise Hepatitis vaccination and flu mist sprung on them. That did not go over very well so to “help the medicine go down” we promised them a dinner out. It was the least we could do.

In the middle of dinner, my littlest one informed me that she MUST go to the potty or she will “actually” pee herself. Her words, not mine. Obviously, that’s kid code for four-alarm code yellow. I realized that I could use a little tinkle and check myself, so off we went. Of course, we travel in packs, where one goes, so shall the other and with that, per usual, we had 3 girls in a stall. Only once we got in there, I realized shark week was back with a vengeance.This was a straight up Jaws emergency. If you know what I mean?

FYI, public restrooms are not the place to tackle the subject of menstruation.

The girls have always gone into the bathroom stall with me in public places if I have to use the facilities. Its just the way it’s always been; co-sleeping and co-toileting, attachment parenting gone wild.I don’t want them to get abducted but I also don’t want to give step-by-step directions on how to use a tampon yet either.  I practice discretionary, ninja-like tampon changing skills. They know that sometimes mommy gets a “booboo”. They think a tampon is like a Band-Aid for your vagina and they are sort of right. But they are getting older and we just had the conversation in May about puberty and periods, thanks to a dog that went into premature heat.

I asked the girls to turn around. They do and I successfully execute my quick change and flush. This is nothing I ever thought I would be doing in my life, then again I never thought I would randomly be smelling baby’s butts in public restaurants either. How the mighty have fallen. Remember, a baby changes everything and all that shit?

Only, life hates me and the toilet is one of those green, low-flow, crunchy granola Woodstock, no bra-wearing, hairy armpit bastards and no match for the super duper, no-holds barred, epic nuclear- reactive, cotton torpedo that I needed to use that day to keep the sharks at bay. So everything flushes. Except.the.Damn.Tampon! It re-appears waterlogged and even larger than before and as it does, in slow motion, both girls turn around to see it breaking the surface of the pink toilet water. Then this happened.

Menstruation happened!

Gabs (screaming at the top of her lungs): “Oh no! Mommy, I saw blood!!!!”

Me: “Remember I told you what happened with the dog?”

Gabs (whispering and completely serious): “Oh my God, Mommy, did you just go into heat???”

Me (dying of laughter on the inside, trying my damnest to keep a straight face): “No honey. People don’t go into heat. We have periods.”

Gabs: “Oh because I was scared we were going to have to keep you inside because all the daddies in the neighborhood were going to try to jump on you.”

Then, I died.

And just like that shark week wasn’t so bad anymore. Have you ever been caught in a state of shark week? How did you explain menstruation to your little one?

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Robin Thicke, Miley Cyrus., Blurred line, misogyny, slut shaming

 

Robin Thicke, Miley Cyrus, Blurred Lines, We Can't Stop

The Internet has blurred lines for Robin Thicke and deemed Miley Cyrus a whore. I am also sick to death of women protecting Robin Thicke for his part in the performance. Look, I am not saying that Miley Cyrus was some sort of unsuspecting innocent child and she got turnt out by big, nasty Robin Thicke. Nope, not saying that at all. In fact, what’s the big fucking deal? She is grown. He is grown and it was the VMAs for God’s sake not Saturday morning cartoons on Sprout. It wasn’t like the Wiggles pulled this shit. What did you expect?

Be naked; be dressed like Beetlejuice. Dry hump, twerk. Do whatever makes you happy. What’s got me all hot around the collar is that grown women, mothers even, are all over the Internet calling Miley Cyrus a giant slut while, in the same breath, saying they see nothing wrong with what Robin Thicke was doing. In fact, they lay sole culpability at the feet of Miley Cyrus.What?

Miley Cyrus, RObin Thicke, VMAs, We Can't Stop, Blurred Lines

People, let’s clarify; This.Performance.Was.Choreographed.and.Rehearsed. He was not surprised. She did not just make up a move on the fly. It was not a case of she is a home wrecking slut and he is just a good church going man. IT.TAKES.TWO.TO.GET.A.LAP.DANCE! Giver and receiver because if you are giving and no one agrees to receive then no harm is done. There she would have stood, like a fool, twerkin in the wind.

In case you still think that Robin Thicke was ruined by Miley Cyrus, here is proof that he was ruined long before then and he did it all on his own.

Do you still think that Robin Thicke had nothing to do with what happened on stage Sunday night? If so, explain to me why you find Robin Thicke’s actions less offensive than Miley Cyrus’?

If you can’t hear what I’m trying to say
If you can’t read from the same page
Maybe I’m going deaf
Maybe I’m going blind
Maybe I’m out of my mind

[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Ok, now he was close
Tried to domesticate you
But you’re an animal
Baby, it’s in your nature
Just let me liberate you
You don’t need no papers
That man is not your maker
And that’s why I’m gon’ take a

[Hook: Robin Thicke]
Good girl
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
You’re a good girl
Can’t let it get past me
You’re far from plastic
Talk about getting blasted
I hate these blurred lines
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
But you’re a good girl
The way you grab me
Must wanna get nasty
Go ahead, get at me

[Verse 2: Robin Thicke]
What do they make dreams for
When you got them jeans on
What do we need steam for
You the hottest bitch in this place
I feel so lucky, you wanna hug me
What rhymes with hug me
Hey!

I guess even misogyny and slut shaming are tolerable as long as you put them to a good beat. By the way, if you watch the Blurred Lines video you will see that most of the Blurred lines performance was dictated from Mr. Thicke’s video.

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sleepover, slumber party, raising girls

sleep over, slumber party, raising girlsSleepover, we don’t need no stinkin’ sleepovers!

Yesterday, I came across a kerfuffle on social media about sleepovers and slumber parties, of all things. Apparently, if you won’t allow your children to attend sleepovers you are deemed an overprotective crazy person, which I find funny especially in the day and time of the helicopter mom. It was even brought up, what, pray tell, will these insane women do when those children go off to college some day? Worse still, how will these poor deprived and helpless children survive on their own when left to their own devices at university?

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