Today is Fat Tuesday. Fat Tuesday is more than just Mardi Gras and Carnival. It’s more than just ass shaking, parades and beads. It’s the day in which all of us good Catholics indulge in excess and opulence before we commence with our Lenten sacrifices. Bring on the guilty pleasures with wild abandonment.
Easter is one of the few times you will read a religious post on here. My religion is the one thing I feel is very personal but being that my faith in God is so strong, I feel it would be remiss if I did not write a post about Easter. To purposely avoid it, would just be weird for me. I believe in a risen Christ so yesterday was our big holiday. If you are not into Easter and don’t celebrate, feel free to stop reading. I won’t be offended. This post is not for you. This post is for my children to someday read.
We decided a long time ago that for all the fun traditions associated with the holidays; elves, Santa, Bunnies and Leprechauns, my children would always know the true meaning of why we celebrate these religious holidays and holy days of obligation. This is why on Good Friday, as a family, we watched the Passion of the Christ.
I’ve heard some pretty outlandish things but what I heard on the radio the other morning had to be in the top three. A recent survey found that ¾ of all married women would rather get help from divorce solicitors chester or from a divorce attorney to divorce their spouse than be doomed to a life of a stay-at-home mother. Wow! Holy insult batman.
Tonight, right before bed, Bella wanted a cookie. I, obviously, said no. You know, in the name of teaching her healthy eating habits, keeping her sugar intake down (especially before bed), keeping her teeth from rotting out of her head and a plethora of other reasons. You know the usual reasons we don’t give our littles sugar before bed. Common sense and we don’t want them awake all night bouncing off the walls. Then “it” happened.
Bella (very sheepishly) : Mommy, I want to tell you something but Grandma told me not to tell you. WTF? OFMG, I am bracing myself for God knows what. I just knew my daughter was going to let some deep dark family secret out of the bag. Give me the real low down on how they REALLY feel about me. I won’t lie, I winced a little.
Me: Yes, Bella. You KNOW you NEVER keep secrets from Mommy.NEVER! You tell me EVERYTHING.I don’t care who tells you to keep a secret.You TELL MOMMY THE TRUTH. What did Grandma tell you NOT to tell me? At this point, aside from wondering what the hell the secret was going to be, I am quite annoyed that someone would tell my daughter to keep a secret from me. I loathe liars, with a passion.This is not a secret. Bella knows this. My husband knows this. I don’t lie. I don’t like being lied to. No matter how small the lie is, it undermines trust and that ,my friends, is NO BUENO!
Bella: Well, Mommy, Grandma gave us peanut butter Oreo cookies and candy and a bunch of sugar before bedtime when she watched us the other night. Hmmm, is she referring to the night that the lovely and delicious Grandma babysat so that the Big Guy and I could go out for a supercalifragilistic date night? That night? The night that SHE was responsible for getting them to bed and to sleep? Really, this offense is not punishable by death. Isn’t that pretty much what Grandma’s do? Ply kids with sugary treats , surprise goodies and obscene amounts of hugs and cuddles?I actually expect this behavior. I mean as far as Grandma’s and MILs go, mine is pretty freaking AWESOME.WE love her big time around here.
But I am perplexed. I can let sugary indiscretions slide but encouraging or condoning keeping things from me, well, that’s just not acceptable. I can NOT tolerate someone teaching my children that it is alright in any way, shape or form to lie to me..their MOTHER. It wasn’t even worth lying about but the whole idea of asking my kids to keep anything from me, sends the wrong message. I am really trying to teach my girls to NOT lie and to have open honest dialog with their father and I.I am trying to teach them that their word is important and if they say something they must abide by their words.Promises must be kept. The truth must be spoken.
Me: Bella, I am very proud of you for telling me the truth. You can always tell me the truth. YOU won’t get in trouble for telling me the truth. But if I ever find out that you are lying to me again, I will be very disappointed in you and you will have to be disciplined. And if anyone ever tells you to keep a secret from me again, you come straight to me and tell me! OK?
Bella (looking a little worried and slightly relieved): See Mom, aren’t you glad that I gave up lying for Lent? I guess I was a good example with my Lenten caffeine sacrifice! I had to giggle a little.
I assured her that she did the right thing by ratting out Grandma. Grandma, if you’re reading this post, no more telling the girls to keep anything from me in the future.We’re all good, just remember that and I don’t care if you give the kids sugar, I expect that.
What would you do if you found out Grandma,or anyone, told your kid to keep secrets from you? Does it matter what the lie is?Is there such a thing as a little lie to be kept from a mother? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject.
Hi, my name is Debi and I am a product of public school. Before you get your panties in a wad about the title, this is in response to a post on Slate called, If You Send Your Kid to Private School, You Are a Bad Person.
Let me start by saying (or admitting, as Slate would have you believe it’s a crime) that I send my children to private school. GASP! I don’t really believe you are a bad person for sending your kid to public school. I believe that as parents we all do the best we can for our kids. If trying our best makes us terrible then we’re all the worst kind of parents.
I didn’t go to private school and neither did my husband. We grew up blue collar. I am one of six kids who had a stay-at-home mom and a father who worked as a forklift driver in a factory. We survived on one blue-collar salary, Tang, public school and all the gluten. We survived. We overcame but I’m not sure any of us thrived in that situation.
Let me put this in further perspective, I was a gifted child in all honors classes and still I was not challenged. I was bored and by the time I was in high school, I was so unchallenged that I hated going to school because it felt like a waste of my time.
When I had children, I knew that if I could afford it, I wanted to send them to private school. More specifically, I wanted to send them to Catholic school because I liked the idea of more challenging academics with constant spiritual nurturing incorporated into their daily routine. Yes, you can do that at home on your own but I like the idea of spirituality and faith being present daily and, perhaps more importantly, how it molds them and the children they spend their days with.
We are not independently wealthy. We are middle class parents who have made the decision that we want to give our children the best opportunity to grow and learn at a young age. In making this decision, we have accepted the fact that we may have to sacrifice other things. Things like extravagant vacations and a larger house. Don’t feel sorry for us, we still travel a couple times a year, our home is in a wonderful neighborhood in the suburbs and there is always plenty to eat. We made the decision to invest in their future but it’s not compromising our present in any way that is too much for us to bear.
The author of the article said that parents who put their children in private school are bad parents because we are doing a disservice to the other children of the world because after all, doesn’t every child deserve a great education? Yes, they do but it is not my place to save the world. It is my responsibility to do for my children. The only way the author’s scenario works is if you take private schools out of the equation entirely. Then, and only then, will all focus shift to bettering the public schools which I wholeheartedly agree needs to be done.
Those who follow her idea of putting our children into public schools with subpar curriculums now to make education better unintentionally make our children martyrs to the cause. I’m not willing to sacrifice my children’s education in hopes that I might be able to make the world a more level playing ground for future generations of hypothetical children. Meanwhile, failing the two I gave birth to. It is not my right to sacrifice their future. It is my duty to protect it.
By this author’s logic, I can argue that if you have the means and you don’t put your child in private school, then you don’t love your child at all. If I am a monster for caring for my children and doing my best to give them every opportunity to excel in this world then so be it because at the end of the day, my only responsibility is to my children.
Raising good humans who are functional, contributing and caring members of society is literally the most important thing a parent will ever do with their life. This is done by being present, be involved and giving them the guidance to achieve their hopes and dreams and that all starts with a good education. The system is failing the public schools, not me.
Like most parents, I’m overwhelmed trying to decide whether or not to send my girls back to a private school this fall and I know that I am not alone. August 13th is coming at us like a freight train. I’m not normally a nervous person but the thought of sending my girls back to school has me terrified. The question every parent wants the answer to is how to send kids back to school during a pandemic? Is it even possible to do it safely? Let’s ask the CDC
I’m an optimist but I also have common sense and I do not take chances when it comes to the life and death of my girls. On March 9, my best friend (who happens to be an ED doctor) called and warned me that quarantine was coming and Coronavirus was much more serious than any of us anticipated. By that Thursday, I had decided to take my girls out of school. New normal, Coronavirus, Covid-19, back to school in pandemic, how to send kids back to school during a pandemic, face masks
READ ALSO: What Every Mom Should Know About Coronavirus
It was an easy decision. My daughters’ health was in jeopardy by an unknown pandemic. My gut told me what to do and I did it. We’re still quarantining because there is still so much about the pandemic that we don’t fully understand. I’ve lost friends and family members, more each day are contracting this virus. With each announcement, I’m more acutely aware of how easily any one of us can fall victim to it, and none of us know how our immune system will react to it. If you’ve given yourself false security by choosing to believe that it’s only other people’s families and friends who die from CoVid-19, you’re wrong. It doesn’t discriminate. Anyone of us can get it.
I felt safe when we were all staying in the house. I know that’s not sustainable for the long-term.
Was it frustrating for the world to come to a screeching halt? Yes, I’m not naturally a person who can stay still.
Is distance learning inconvenient and stressful? Yes.
Do I wish everyone’s lives could go back to normal and we could safely go back to life as we knew it before CoVid? More than anything. We’ve lost months of plans, travels, celebrations and time with people we love that we won’t ever be able to recover.
Do I want my girls to enjoy their 8th grade and sophomore year of school, filled with firsts and lasts and all the childhood goodness in between? 1000x yes but I don’t think it’s possible this year. We’re no safer than we were in March. In truth, it’s even more dangerous now because, people refuse to wear masks and social distance, and those are the only weapons we have to currently protect us.
READ ALSO: Doctor Gave Up Her Kids to Take Care of Coronavirus Patients
I’d like to believe that if everyone was taking responsibility for their own well-being, observing social distancing and wearing medical face masks, we could all find our way through this together. It would be easier to trust that people were trying to do the right thing. We could all take peace knowing that we were all working together to protect each other, out of human courtesy and respect for life, regardless of a little personal inconvenience.
The government is urging our schools to open, even threatening to withhold funds. How can they ask parents to send the children we created, birthed and love more than anything else in this world back into schools in the middle of a pandemic? I fully understand that our economy is in danger of collapse because of shutdowns but at what cost are we willing to sacrifice for economic comfort? We can live without a lot of comforts but my children are not an option. No one wants to sacrifice their family for economic recovery. Nobody should have to. Human life is irreplaceable, no matter your politics. I wouldn’t sacrifice my enemy’s life for my own economic satisfaction.
People are scared of losing their homes, their jobs, and their very way of life because of coronavirus. Requiring that our children go back to the classroom is irresponsible and dangerous. Betsy DeVos and Donald Trump are effectively saying that our children’s lives, the teachers’ lives, and our (the parents’) lives are less important than the DOW Jones. It’s easy to surmise that when an administration lies to a nation and tells us the opposite of common sense and truth, puts our lives in jeopardy, there’s another agenda right beneath the surface and it’s not altruistic and it has nothing to do with our freedoms. It’s about what politics has always been about money and power.
READ ALSO: I Miss you Most at 6-Feet Apart
You’re probably wondering how to send kids back to school in a pandemic. What our high school is doing has addressed a lot of my concerns. It’s a very comprehensive and well-thought-out plan but even still, I’m not sure that it’s enough to convince me to feel safe enough to send my daughters to school. At the end of the day, my kid is still immune-compromised and I’m diabetic. Whether I want to believe it or not, going into a public place of 1000 or more students (even with a mask and everything intended to be done right) in one building puts their lives in jeopardy because there is a lot of room for human error. When you’re dealing with children, human error is more likely than not.
There is so much more. Our plan is very comprehensive. It’s great on paper. I’m just not so sure how it will work in reality. I hope it works and fully recognizes that it’s a little different for our private school than it is for public schools. It’s a privilege that all of our students have laptops and WiFi and that many of our students have at least one parent who stays at home and can readily be available when and if we need to go to virtual learning.
READ ALSO: The New Normal is Not Normal
You’re not alone. None of know how to do this. We’re all in this together. But if you can’t reconcile yourself to which way to choose, if you can, err on the side of caution. We can overcome a pandemic but we can’t bring back the dead. Go with your gut and do what’s best for your family and your child. This is a new territory and there is no absolute right or wrong answer but I think the choice ultimately should be with the parents. No matter what you decide, we’re all in this pandemic together. Stay safe, wash your hands, social distance and PLEASE wear your masks.
[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”]
Photo courtesy of the internet
Starbucks, Keurig, Diet Dr. Pepper, and Diet coke are all collateral damage of a bad girl gone good.Yesterday was Fat Tuesday. Fat Tuesday! You know that one day of year that all of us Catholics live for.It’s the day ( more like the 5 day weekend) that we go crazy stuffing our faces with rich foods, drinking libations of the most toxic variety,and partaking of any and all activities that may fall under the verboten category on Wednesday. If there is any way shape or form that a particular item can be considered pleasurable, you can be sure, we, devout Catholics, are trying to consume as much as we can, as fast as we can. We are storing up our pleasures to sustain as over our long religious hibernation. It usually consists of a lot of really good people doing some really , maybe not so good things, for beads while stuffing their faces and filling their bellies.It’s a mad dash for the finish line before the game gets reset and we have to go to the back of the line. It should be renamed Sodom and Gomorrah day because unofficially, that’s what it is. It’s the day before the day that we make a great sacrifice for the next 40 days. It’s sort of our annual last hurrah. Because, really….we KNOW it’s going to be a long 40 days and nights. Depending on what you are giving up, it could be longer. I’m no half asser . I tend to give up the things I like the most, my vices.
This morning, as we all awoke in the cold light of day with our Fat Tuesday hangovers, it hit me like a ton of bricks that today was WEDNESDAY. Yesterdays was “that” day, but today is “THIS” day…Ash Wednesday. The official start of our 40 day sacrifice. For my very first accountable Lent, I gave up red meat. Oh No she didn’t. OH YES, I DID! And to prove that I’m no half asser, I was a vegetarian for the next 10 years. I was eventually done in by a McDonald’s cheeseburger, but I digress, that’s an entirely different post. I’ve given up cursing in the past. I realize that I should be embarrassed that cursing is something that any Mommy should be in actual need of giving up, but believe me when I say..I have a bit of a potty mouth. The worse part is that I do NOT realize when I drop the F* Bomb..until I get some gaping mouth look from a fellow Mommy, or worse..my husband. There was the year that I gave up alcohol.This was pre children. I would never willingly relinquish my Mommy juice ever again, unless with child, which I don’t really have any plans of ever doing again. But believe me, when I don’t drink,people ,who know me, automatically assume that I MUST be pregnant. But this year, I pulled on my BIG girl panties. I gave up caffeine. *GASP*
I know, I am as surprised as the rest of you. Why an insomniac prone to migraines thinks its a good idea to give up her number one vice is beyond me. Caffeine is another thing I usually only give up when with child but I feel that my addiction is getting too strong a hold on me. I’ve tried to ween myself off the Starbucks for quite some time. It is only a fabulous treat that I allow myself on occasion. You sexy toffee mocha with a couple extra shots , you really know how to speed up my pulse first thing in the morning.I have also personally been keeping Keurig k-cups in the black with my overwhelming addiction. And let’s not even get started on Diet coke. You evil bitch.I have tried to give you up on multiple occasions. But you and your maleficent sister Diet Dr.Pepper keep luring me back in to your web of self destruction. I am thoroughly convinced that there was no forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden..it was a piping hot cup of pure pleasure..it had to be a Trenta from Starbucks. If not, it was certainly a ice cold fountain diet coke with loads of ice that sent poor Eve, and the rest of us, on our path of pain.
That’s right people. I am doing what Eve couldn’t do in the garden..I’m passing up the caffeine for the next 40 days. It’s going to be hard. Let’s be honest.I’m pretty sure, it’s going to be like Charlie Sheen when he gave up the coke. Maybe even as ugly as Whitney when she gave up the crack , oh wait, bad example. Anyways, I wonder, do they make a synthetic caffeine that I can take intravenously to keep away the DTs?I just don’t think walking around in polite society looking like I have the shakes is going to be beneficial to anyone and probably a little frightening to the countless small children that I encounter on a daily basis. They have electronic cigarettes and nicorette gum for smokers trying to quit. There is methadone for methamphetamine addicts. So what’s going to get me through my withdrawals? Anyone have any words of advice for me?
Why did I give up caffeine you ask? I gave it up because if it wasn’t hard it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It would be easy and everyone would do it. So if you see me on the street and I’m cursing, drunk and shaking like a fool…pat me on the back and say “Way to go girl!You will be kicking that nasty addiction right in it’s big hairy ass and making all right in the world again:)” I dream big folks.Now, since I didn’t have my coffee this morning,I’m off to take a nap..how else do you suppose I’m to get through my days on no sleep!Happy Mothering!
*After reading this,I’m thinking I may need to addend this to be coffee and Diet pop.I’m not sure going completely cold turkey off caffeine all together is going to prove a wise move.Hold me. I’m afraid.
** Oh yes, I had to add this because this blog also serves as my remembrance of my girls childhood. The Big Guy just went to pick Bella up at school and upon seeing her standing there, he promptly went at wiping the dirt off her forehead.He forgot it was Ash Wednesday and not until he looked up and saw the other mother and child sporting their ashes did he realize what he had just done.Damn lapsed Catholic:)
[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
19 second, third and fourth graders and two adults at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas were gunned down by an armed mass shooter, 18-year-old, Salvador Ramos a student at Uvalde High School. The massacre happened at Robb Elementary School, where children between the ages of 7 and 10 study, occurred at around 11:37 local time, this morning. Ramos was killed at the scene by police.
Uvalde is a small, close-knit community where moms typically walk their children to school. In a town filled with humble, hard-working people with a population of 16,000 residents, nearly 80% of the population is Hispanic.
Ramos bought two assault rifles just days ago when he turned 18. This morning, he shot his grandmother before his massacre at Robb Elementary. While he fled after shooting his grandmother, he got into a car wreck near Robb elementary and then ran into the school and started shooting.
His grandmother is still alive and receiving treatment in San Antonio.
Again, I am sitting here alone with my thoughts on a day when 19 children were gunned down in a Texas elementary school. Why? How? How do we allow this to keep happening? This morning, 21 families sent their loved ones to school and they will never see those sweet faces again. They will never feel the pull of those little outstretched arms around their necks. Never hear their laughter ring out at something silly. Never get to tuck them in and say good night ever again. Those parents will never get to watch their children grow up and become who they were meant to be because some asshole was able to easily get his hands on guns, walk into a school and snuff out those precious lives. We are all responsible. How many more children have to die? How many parents have to lose the most precious thing on this earth to them before we say no more?
What makes me the most upset and angry is that 10 years ago ( and many times since) I found myself crying over other people’s children. I send my girls to school every morning since Sandy Hook afraid and praying that when I return to pick them up, they’re still alive. What the fuck kind of country do we live in? A country where Republicans care more in theory about unborn babies than they do about the safety of those children already living? A country where we believe it’s a political decision what women can and can’t do with their bodies, where we don’t respect a woman’s right to govern her own body but we believe it’s more important to coddle those who don’t understand the constitution and believe that every person is entitled to the right to bear assault weapons and callously and randomly murder our living, breathing children?
America, what are we going to do to protect our children? What are you willing to sacrifice to keep your child safe? I don’t know about you but there is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for mine. Our children go to school every day knowing that an active shooter is just as possible as a tornado. They have drills for both. Our children live in a world where they know that just existing puts them in peril and they know that some of you are willing to make that sacrifice, as long as you can keep your right to bear arms. What about my right to hold my child in my arms? What about every parent’s expectation to live their life loving their child and watching them grow up as we grow old?
My eyes are burning from crying. I held it in all day until my girls went to bed because I can’t let them see how terrified I am. How broken and raw the thought of losing them makes me. How my heart is shattered for the moms and dads who are going to bed tonight knowing that from this day on, their life will never be the same. From this moment on, they will be changed. There will be a hole in their life and a void in their hearts that will ache every minute of every day for the rest of their days. It will never get better. My heart breaks knowing that nothing will change and in a few days, there will be another shooting and someone else’s child will not be coming home and it will go on and on because we let it. Many Robb Elementary parents are still waiting to find out if their children are alive or dead.
No parent should have to lose their child in such a way and we have the power to stop it. We just need to prioritize our children’s lives above a right ( ironically, that was written into the constitution at a time in history when civilians needed to be at the ready to protect their families from enemies domestic and foreign because there was not a big enough army) to bear arms. We are no longer lacking sufficient armed forces. What we are lacking is humanity and general respect for the lives of others.
We don’t need to bear arms we need to raise better humans with fewer guns and more kindness and compassion. We need to condemn hatred and bigotry. We need to care more about people and less about being right or getting our way. We need to love more and be more tolerant of things, people and cultures we don’t understand. We need to destigmatize mental health and make it the norm to seek support. Most importantly, we need to protect our innocent children from being murdered while doing nothing other than existing.
I am angry because this was senseless and preventable. Yes, we could have stopped this. It’s the guns. The guns are readily available to anyone over the age of 18-years-old who wants one and can afford it. You say don’t give guns to the mentally ill. Do you think mentally ill people disclose they are mentally ill when trying to purchase a gun? No, in fact, since we live in a country that stigmatizes mental illness they simply avoid seeking help. That’s the protection plan. They don’t disclose. If the guns were not so easily accessible if it were more difficult to access firearms maybe the children of Sandy Hook would be going into their senior year next year. Maybe the babies at Robb Elementary would be heading off to summer vacations and camps and all the other things that little kids do in the summertime. Instead, 22 families will be planning funerals. 22 families will be crying themselves to sleep. 22 families have been broken like so many countless others at the hands of a man with a gun.
Who shoots little kids? What have they ever done to anyone? What is so wrong in your head to make a person want to shoot up random strangers (helpless children) because whatever is going on in their own lives isn’t easy? Most of us don’t have it easy. Life is hard and made exponentially harder when we have to constantly worry that something tragic and potentially dangerous can happen to any of us at any time, especially in a world that values getting their way over doing the right thing.
So please keep your thoughts and prayers, they won’t bring those babies back and they are of no comfort to those grieving parents. If you want to do something to change the narrative, lay down your guns. Implore your representatives to push for common-sense gun control. No one is hunting with an assault rifle. No one needs an arsenal of weapons at the ready. A child’s brain is not fully developed until 25-years-old, why are we allowing teenagers to buy assault rifles? Unless, an 18-year-old is in the armed forces, being taught how to properly use a weapon to protect his country, there is no reason he needs a gun. And in no world is owning a gun more important than children getting to live and grow up.
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.
I am partnering with JOHNSON’S® Baby and Latina Bloggers Connect to share with you avery special campaign that Johnson’s has undertaken to make moms feel safe.JOHNSON’S® Baby always listens to moms and although their products have always been safe, they took a stand and changed their formulas to give moms peace of mind.
We all make promises to our babies. From the moment we know that they exist, we make an unspoken promise to care for them and love them until the day we die. It is the single largest commitment we will ever make in our lifetimes. From the moment we hear that first heartbeat, until we draw our last breath, we promise to love our babies and keep them safe. That’s what we do as parents.
Before we ever got pregnant, I would pray to God to let me be a mother someday. I promised myself that when I had my own child, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her and keep her happy. Mind you, we weren’t trying at the time. We were planning to plan and I wasn’t in a hurry but I knew that I wanted to become a mother, I wanted to love someone “all in” the selfless, fulfilling way that only a mother can.
I remember each time that I found out that I was pregnant, I promised myself that I would love my baby unconditionally every day for the rest of my life. I promised myself that every moment would count because, every moment is a gift. Even if that moment has you in tears over a colicky newborn and your heart being held hostage by a toddler, those are the moments when we keep those quiet promises that we make to God and to unborn children.
From the moment that I first held my daughters, I looked into their sweet faces and remember thinking what did I do to deserve this? I don’t deserve this. This precious and perfect little person is more than I deserve. I remember feeling, for the first time in my life, that I was not the center of my universe and that I had a much greater purpose. Motherhood fulfilled me. It completed me. I believe that motherhood is my true purpose, everything else just exists comorbidly.
I promise to always love my daughters, even when I don’t necessarily like them. I promise to listen, even when I don’t like what I am hearing. I promise to always be there, no matter how dire the circumstances because I am a mother and my most important mission in life is to make sure that my babies are safe and know they are loved completely. I don’t take chances when it comes to my children. There is nothing more important in the world to me and if that means sacrifice and inconvenience, it’s all worth it to me to get the honor of being their mommy.
Thankfully, JOHNSON’S Baby always listens to moms and to give us peace of mind and eliminate any doubt of the safety of their product for our little ones, they changed the formula. They made a sacrifice so we could trust and know that our children’s health are not at risk.
The seven newly reformulated products:
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby HEAD-TO-TOE® Wash
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby Lotion
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby Shampoo
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby Shampoo & Conditioner for Thick and Curly Hair
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby Shampoo & Conditioner for Thin and Straight Hair
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby Shampoo with Calming Lavender
○ JOHNSON’S® Baby Soothing Vapor Baby Bath
This video concept was inspired by a Japanese legend that folding 1,000 origami cranes will result in a wish granted and a promise fulfilled, which is thought to be a big labor of love. Changing Johnson’s baby products was their labor of love for moms and babies. The Johnson and Johnson’s family made 1000 origami storks in their video because they represent the delivery of babies, and the hopes and promises of families. I think the sentiment behind the video is beautiful, as is every mother’s commitment to her child.