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How to Survive Shark Week without Someone Losing a Limb

by Deborah Cruz 2011/09/13

Shark week is not my favorite week of the month. Shark week (menstruating and PMS, in case you were confused) is just one more thing that I have to deal with on my already full Mommy plate. Shark week is that one week of the month when my entire body rages against me and decides to attempt yet another mutiny. Ain’t no mutiny like a shark week mutiny! Damn you, shark week!

shark week, PMS, living authentically online, Domain .ME, blogging, digital influencer, writer, blogger

Kids, this is your mom before shark week.

But then something happens. My head begins to spin. My breasts ache. I am ravenous to eat things like hot fudge sundaes with jalapeno chips at will. My ovaries feel as if a tiny angry troll is squeezing them. I’m bloated like a dead fish (no correlation to the smell, I smell like a summer’s day, damn it!) and as if by some cruel joke, it’s the one week of the entire month that my husband finds me completely sexually irresistible (well, that and ovulation week. Conspiracy, I tell you!).

My ovaries feel as if a tiny angry troll is squeezing them. I’m bloated like a dead fish (no correlation to the smell, I smell like a summer’s day, damn it!) and as if by some cruel joke, it’s the one week of the entire month that my husband finds me completely sexually irresistible (well, that and ovulation week. Conspiracy, I tell you!). New baby? Who dis? Ain’t nobody got no time for that.

Unfortunately for him, I am like a hybrid between a Praying Mantis and Black Widow spider. All I want to do is rip his head off and eat my young, not necessarily in that order. Pretty much, if you breathe you are in danger of incurring my bloody, hormonal rage and for some reason, I swear my teeth get bigger.

This is Your Mom on Shark Week

For your safety, I am listing here a few ways to survive Shark Week without Losing a limb;

No sudden movements or loud sounds, Mama usually has a migraine during shark week. Move slowly and quietly for optimal chance of survival rate.
For the love of God, please don’t hide my Diva Cup or flush all the tampons. I’m talking to you fruit of my loins, this could result in Mommy’s head spinning and/or completely popping off.
Have chocolate and carbs in the house. A pizza with a side of French fries and a Ding Dong usually does the trick. And NO, don’t remind me that I’m on a diet. There is no reasoning with me when I am on shark week.
Don’t ask me any stupid questions, like where is the milk? It’s in the fridge! Do you want to die? And please pick up your f*cking socks! I’m not your maid. Would you like me to shove them down your throat? ( This is directed at the Big Guy, not the children. I pick up their socks, with no threat of choking them out, on the regular.)
Don’t look at me sideways, it will surely not bode well for you. I know you will be tempted to test this theory, but just be aware that during shark week, better men have died for less.
Don’t comment on how tight my jeans are or the extra head-sized pimple that has sprouted on my forehead. I can see it. I’m menstruating, not blind and I am hyper aware of every single flaw this week.
Don’t expect me to try on clothes, especially a bathing suit for a vacation. Don’t even ask. You will be wasting your time and is your life worth it?

Shark Week, is that eye roll worth dying over?

Don’t take my measurements for any reason under the sun. Seriously, Mr. Personal Trainer, I know you are a man and don’t understand but I don’t need to know how many inches the water retention is adding to my body. My jeans are cutting me in half; believe me, I’m already aware.
Don’t be my Mother or Mother-in-law, anything you do while I am on shark week will leave me exasperated and annoyed, usually taken as passive aggression and held against you for the week. I would recommend marking your calendars and not calling me or making eye contact at all that week.This is more for your benefit than my sanity. I promise.
Don’t ask me to step on the scale, this is pretty much any day of the month but it could have dire consequences for you during this week.
Don’t raise your voice at me, not even moderately. You can try it. But I’m pretty sure that I will have snatched the snark right out of your mouth before you get to the second word. But, hey, it’s your life.
Don’t touch my boobs or ask for any kind of “service” for you. I’m dying over here. Why should you be having a good time?
Which reminds me, little one, please don’t ask Mommy for a baby brother on this week. It truly is the furthest thing from my mind. Birth is pain and I’m in enough right now with the troll squishing my ovaries, my sore boobs and cramps. Ask me in a couple weeks, when the water weight is gone and I‘m feeling frisky (this tends to happen during ovulation week. See, conspiracy I tell you!)
And under no circumstances, ever ask me if I’ve got PMS? Just observe and know it, that’s enough to save your life. I don’t need your commentary. I know I’m on shark week. I don’t need to know that you know and think I’m being a hormonal bitch I already know that.
Your best bet for surviving Shark week is to stay still, be quiet and hope that I don’t see you. In 3-5 days I will be back to my sweet self but for the next few days, stay out of the water.

What is your best tip for surviving shark week in your home? Has anyone ever been seriously maimed during that week? What was there crime? Can’t wait to hear your stories in the comments, Misery enjoys company…especially this week. Oh and for an extra dose of The TRUTH I am guest posting at Blogging Dangerously Where sex in the city meets married with children today. If you are not already familiar with Blogging Dangerously, go now and check it out. Kit is an amazingly funny and quick witted writer and I’m sure that you will love her as much as I do. Also, she is the creator of #wineparty on Twitter every Friday night. What’s not to love?

*Disclaimer; I did not coin the term Shark Week.I can’t remember who the brilliant soul on Twitter was who did, but I have made it my own. That week of the month will forever be known as Shark week in my household. When my daughters begin menstruating, I will pass it down. Shark week is now my legacy:)

P.S. No husbands, children, Mothers or Mother-in -laws were harmed in the making of this Shark week post.

Happy Shark Week, Hope we all make it out alive

2011/09/13 50 comments

tampons, free bleeding, kiran Gandhi,feminism, periods without tampons, patriarchy

Women's Issues

The Shark Week Double Tap

by Deborah Cruz 2011/11/29

written by Deborah Cruz

The Shark Week Double Tap ~ I know you are scratching your head asking yourself, what the hell is she talking about. Well, I will get to that but first I need to warn you this is definitely a TMI post. If you are a man, or squeamish about personal woman talk, ~~walk~~ no run away now. First, if you are a regular reader of The TRUTH about Motherhood you are already very familiar with the term Shark Week. If not here is a post to teach you everything you ever wanted to know about Shark Week. This brings us to my latest shark week debacle.

The Shark Week Double Tap

So, it is once again shark week. When isn’t it shark week? It seems like every time I turn around these days, it’s shark week. In fact, I’m tempted to get pregnant JUST to stop the craziness that is the moody spectacular of Shark Week. And I think I’ve made the Big Guy just crazy enough to agree to it. Desperate times, desperate measures my friends. But I promised you a definition of the Shark Week double tap. Embarrassing as it is to admit, a promise is a promise plus I’m really curious to know that I am not the only one who has suffered this humiliation.

Without Further ado the Shark Week Double Tap

The shark week double tap, my friend ( you are my friends right? I’m banking on it and praying for your understanding and no judgement. After all, the situation itself is humiliating enough), is when you are so deep in the throes of Mommy brain, you’re sick as a dog with a wicked sinus infection ( you can’t smell, you can’t taste and you can’t hear), the kids are screaming, dinner is burning, it’s black Friday, your have people visiting and aside from your whole world being upside down and inside out…you are hemorrhaging at just the thought of walking across the room. This is when the shark week double tap happens. You are unsuspecting and unaware and it just sneaks up on you. You are so tired, overwhelmed and confused that you go to change your tampon and when you should have pulled you completely missed the step and only pushed…another tampon into the already crowded space where the last one is. Gasp!

The kids are screaming at the bathroom door, your husband is waiting in the car for you to head out to pick up dinner to replace what you just burnt and your mother is talking at you through the bathroom door; this is when the deed is done. You won’t even be aware of it for a bit.Who knows maybe that first little guy got all turned around and you lost the string and that’s why you completely forgot to pull the cord before you launched another cotton rocket into your vaginal infinity and beyond. I know you are wondering how the hell is this even possible. What can I say, I’ve given birth a couple times and I’m pretty sure a small hobo could find shelter in my vaginal cavity, my cervical wonderland and I might not even notice I’m so busy on some days.

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tampons, shark week, double tap, menstruation,PMS

The Culprits..but there's a 2 at a time max! The Cotton Twins!

I know I am not alone in this but doubt any of you will have the bad taste to admit it but you can identify yourself by being the one who is laughing just a little harder than the others at my predicament. Thank God this faux pas is not fatal, unless you count the double dose of toxic shock syndrome inducing cotton levels in my body. Sure it’s uncomfortable and a great reminder that I should have just taken the time to locate my damn Diva cup ( that bitch isn’t moving once it’s locked and loaded) rather than give in to the convenience of the tony toxic cotton rockets. The worst part is that I usually ( yes, it’s happened to me more than once) don’t realize what has happened until I am out in public, away from a toilet and walking like I’m in my third trimester and about to give birth to a pair of cotton topped twins at any moment.The humiliation. What’s the worst side effect of your shark week? Don’t be afraid to share, misery enjoys company and I know shark week is no picnic for any of us.

The Shark Week Double Tap, every Mother’s Nightmare

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2011/11/29 10 comments

shark week, Snow White, Disney World, Magic Kingdom, Orlando, Florida

Health

The Shark Week Sneak

by Deborah Cruz 2012/06/26

written by Deborah Cruz

Vacation Shark Week is Deadly

For all the men, the Shark Week Sneak is like the quarterback sneak only much more bloody and without purpose. For some insane reason, I don’t know why other than my body and all that is holy, shark week for me always falls on a holiday, a vacation, a wedding or when I visit my mother-in-law, who scolds me for flushing tampons for fear that I will make the septic tank system explode and kill everyone within a 100 mile radius, but that’s another post entirely. Think Chernobyl of the cotton and bloody kind. Why I thought my first family vacation in 8 years would be an exception, I don’t know. To top it all off, it was my first shark week since February so it’s a doozie. We are talking no holds barred, tiny midgets chewing on your ovaries, two tampons and a mega MAXIPAD every hour. Not mini, not thin, there were no angel wings. Just me, an untapped hemorrhage and an adult diaper.Yeah, THAT kind of shark week.

And to make matters worse, it happened on the one week of the year when it was damn near guaranteed that I had to be in a bathing suit every day and walking around for hours on end at the fucking happiest damn place on earth. I was not so happy. I wanted to kill every lazy overweight person I saw that was riding a scooter because they were too damn lazy to walk.I was hemorrhaging and dying and my bloated ass still walked for 14 hours a day and don’t get me started on the stupid parents who stopped short on a path to scold their child who they refused to rent a stroller for. I was ready to go full on bat-shit crazy in the middle of Disney World. On the other hand, the Big Guy was about to commit a homicide if I rolled my eyes at him one more time. I couldn’t help it. Shark week had me in it’s clutches and was shaking me around like a crackheaded mother trying to quiet it’s crying baby. It’s a wonder my eyes didn’t roll right out of my head. He should be lucky I didn’t fashion a shiv out of my $100 bottle of Disney World water and stab him in the eye. I could have been a blood bath on a much larger scale.

Shark Week almost Killed Snow White

Don’t get me started on trudging through Disney World and meeting all of those mother effing happy princesses. So beautiful but for the love of God, what’s up with those squeaky voices. Oh yeah, I’m looking at you Cinderella! It was like nails on a chalkboard and teeth on Styrofoam rolled into one and all I wanted to do was take my kids light-up Jedi sword and club Snow White to death. But I didn’t. I carried on and played nice because I wanted my girls to remember their first trip to the happiest on earth fondly, not refer to it as that one time that Mommy got us all kicked out of Disney world for having a boot party on Belle or pulling Rapunzel’s hair around her neck and choking that bitch out because she just wouldn’t stop smiling.

No, in the end, I smiled and laughed and I even played in the rain and walked in a parade. I may have accidentally tripped the woman who pushed my little girl out of the way so that she could watch the parade herself but I’m pretty sure any self-respecting mom would have done the same, even if she were not hemorrhaging. Shark week came in with a vengeance to make up for lost time but it’s done and over with. We all survived. Of course, we are moving this weekend. I am bloated, achy, irritable and eating every single carb in sight. I am thankful for one thing though, I won’t be stuck listening to It’s a Small World stuck on repeat. Shark week should be spent with the ones you love, making them miserable too, not hating poor unsuspecting strangers.

What’s your most memorable shark week story?

Shark Week Not for the Weak

2012/06/26 8 comments

shark week, shark, tween, referee, halloween ,costume

Lifestyle Parenting

Halloween Whore Costumes for Kids because our Daughters Need to be even MORE sexualized

by Deborah Cruz 2011/10/31

written by Deborah Cruz

Halloween is here. Why does shark week always happen at the most inopportune times; vacations, honeymoon and every single holiday ever. I suppose that could explain it all, right? Shark week is upon us again, of course it has decided to fall right on one of my favorite holidays of the year, Halloween. I am quite realistically playing the exorcist in my real life right now, not of my own volition. Shark week has descended upon me like an unwelcome guest and I am trying my best to not hurt anyone but it’s getting harder and harder when I am faced with outlandish ignorance at almost every turn. Shark week will not be denied. Try as I may to resist the allure of Shark Week, it’s getting hard with what I have been faced with in the last couple of days.

The Shark Week Cometh

While I am in the throes of Shark week, I have been running like a maniac to organize the world’s greatest Halloween party because I am a total Type -A over-achieving room mother freak. Yes, I totally brought this upon myself only if YOU are a Type -A, like me, you know that it’s near impossible for a control freak to relinquish enough control to delegate. I do. I delegate but then I go a little stir crazy waiting for people to do what they say they will do. I have learned over the years to let things go but it still makes me a little tense add to that the fact that last week happened to be one of those weeks when little mean girls decided to hurt my little girls (Yes, plural both of my girls were hurt by mean girls last week).

Speaking of crazy little girls and their crazy mothers, one of the mean girls by association , invited my daughter to her birthday party. I hadn’t RSVPd because my kid starts rehearsals for the Nutcracker and we hadn’t found out the date. Let’s just say we’ve got a shiton of things on our plate and making it to a 7 year old mean girls birthday party is not a priority, especially not on shark week. I received a call from the kids mother to check if we were coming. Let’s get this straight now, I CAN READ. If I have not RSVPd and I knew the date of RSVP then you should assume to count us out because if we are big enough assholes not to respond then who wants us at your mean girl by association party anyway, right? Just me?

Anyways, Mean Girl by Association Mom calls me not once, but twice to check if we were coming. I ask what the little girl would like and the Mom’s response , “Well, She loves Justin Bieber so anything Justin Bieber would be great. She is crazy for him. He’s so cute.” I am scratching my head because,as you may already know, I think kids should be kids. She’s turning 7 not 13 so there should really be no boy crazy hormones that are responsible for her underage case of raging Bieber Fever. My girls are still into princesses and Barbies. I’m not allowing any Justin Bieber posters, dolls, musical toothbrushes, or “Future Mrs.Bieber” teddy bears in my house. Not only am I not allowing it, I am discouraging it. If it’s about the music that’s one thing but to be , at 7, thinking “He’s so cute” WTF? Not appropriate. I guess whatever, it’s not my kid but this is part of the problem with our kids today. Aside from dressing them all like tiny hookers, they make it almost impossible for them to be children because they are shoving pubescence down their throats from about the age of three.

The View from Shark Week

Speaking of shoving pubescence down your throat and dressing little girls like hookers, have you seen the costumes they make for little girls of the “tween” age and more disturbingly for kids of the “Tween size”? My daughter is only 6 but she wears a 8-10 in a costume because she is so tall. I fear the costumes available in her size for her next year are more like something a tiny little stripper might wear on theme night at the Hustler Club than a Halloween costume for a child! Does anyone need teen pregnancy explained any further? Really, because I’m pretty sure that I know what’s going on…we are shoving sex down our children’s throats at every turn. Are we such a sexualized society that we can’t even see that we are doing something wrong anymore?Have we crossed the line so far that we actually find a sexualized 11 year old as acceptable?

Obviously, I don’t live in a vacuum and I know there are different strokes for different folks but I find it increasingly irritating that people complain about the state of the world; childhood obesity, over sexualized teens, global warming, the state of the economy and so much more but these are all things that we can fix, if we are willing to take responsibility for what we are doing. We are not some helpless victims of circumstances we are willing participants in the hell in a hand-basket mentality that we collectively share. I don’t think shark week is making me particularly bitchy,I just think that shark week is allowing me to see a little more clearly the cracks in the foundation. What are your thoughts on Bieber Fever for the barely in school age and Hootchie Halloween costumes for the barely pubescent? Happy Halloween and Happy Shark Week.

Hell Hath No Fury Like Woman on Shark Week

2011/10/31 7 comments

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

Confessions Parenting

That One Time I Went Into “Heat” at Panda Express

by Deborah Cruz 2013/09/06

written by Deborah Cruz

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?

2013/09/06 27 comments

review, laundry, vacuum, Shark rotator, clean house, domestic abilities

Home

Life Hack: How to get Your House Company Ready without Killing Yourself

by Deborah Cruz 2014/12/02

written by Deborah Cruz

Ever walk into a play date or a friend’s house and think to yourself, ” Damn, how does she keep this place so clean with kids?” Me, neither. Just kidding. It happens all the time. I immediately ask her for the name of her cleaning lady. If she denies having a cleaning lady one of two things happens 1) I am amazed by her domestic goddess abilities and ask her to teach me her ways or 2) I decide we can no longer be friends because she either neglects her children or is a liar, liar, clean, pressed pants on fire.

I thought that I had it all figured out, this home business. No, I don’t mean working from home or my blog, I mean keeping my house from looking like a cyclone hit it while working from home and parenting smallish children. It’s hard, people. I don’t know how they do it but my kids can really mess up a house. I feel like I’m constantly cleaning and I am going to be completely honest with you, I don’t like it. In fact, I pretty much despise domestic labor.

My girls are not toddlers. It’s not about Cheerio crumbs and Cheez-it dust anymore. I can’t blame it on tiny hands and squished up puffs. This is all the damage of two semi-sophisticated young ladies who simply cannot get the concept of food actually making it into their mouths and can’t (or won’t) be bothered by picking up toys and clothes which leaves my floor looking like the toy box and their closet exploded, add to the mix crumbs and dirty plates on tables and I am ready to burn the house down. I feel like I need to go through the house with a leaf blower just to clear a path sometimes. Did I mention I don’t like mess.at.all?

My husband says its because they live in excess and simply have no room to put it all away. He blames me. I say they are just the cutest little pigs around. I blame them. They blame the dog.

I do my best, in between deadlines, appointments, errands, cooking dinner and keeping little people alive, I clean the house but it never seems to be clean enough because as I clean one room, I swear, they are making it their single mission to destroy the rest of the house. It truly is maddening so I decided to hire a cleaningcompanydublin to get help with cleaning the entire house.

I want to hire a maid to come once a week but then I realized that I don’t have a schedule that permits me to scrub my house down once a week and how could I ever let a stranger see my house in such a state? It’s bad enough that my husband sees it. Who has time to do all that cleaning before the maid comes? And if I didn’t, she would surely double her prices and tell all of her other domestic engineer friends about how dirty my house was and the next thing you know, I’d be blackballed by all help…everywhere.

What’s worse than what I see…the mess, is the stuff that I can’t see. The things that I can’t even begin to consider like dust mites and such. The thought of it makes my skin crawl. I try to pretend that they don’t exist but I know that they do so I basically stay at a defcon 1 stress level about my house at all times. You can learn how to prevent mold from building up in your home here. In fact, I am wondering just how many dust mites can live on a single dust bunny (like the one under my sofa) at this very moment. Oops, I may have just vomited in my mouth a little bit.

Then, I received an unexpected gift in the mail. Not something that I would normally get excited about but hey, I like it when the FedEx guy brings me goodies so I tore into it and I have to say, it is quickly becoming one of my favorite pieces in my house.

Behold the Shark® Rotator® Powered Lift-Away® . Yes, it’s a vacuum cleaner. I used to be the girl who swore I’d break my husbands kneecaps if he ever gave me a vacuum, iron or weight loss machine as a gift. In fact, I swore it. These are not gifts in my mind, these are necessities and commentary on the state of how I handle things. So thanks, no thanks.

But Shark sent me this and so there was no husband to be offended by. I have to be honest, I have a Dyson and after emptying container on the Shark, I can tell you that my Dyson has been doing a piss poor job. Maybe it wasn’t all the kids’ fault. Maybe the Dyson was failing to do its job and the kids weren’t habitual offenders…at least not where the floor was concerned. They are fully accountable for the toys and clothes on the floor but maybe not the crumbs and enough hair to create an entirely new dog or child.

Here are some of the features:
• Rotator® power nozzle with motorized brush that deep cleans and reaches further under furniture than any other vacuum (as evidenced by said hair and dust).
• Powerful LED headlights on the nozzle and handle to improve visibility under furniture or in dark, hard-to-see spaces (this is amazing but be warned vacuuming in the dark is scary).
• Fingertip Controls for easy transitions between hard floors, carpet and area rugs (I love not having to bend over to switch the height).
• Designed with a HEPA filter and Shark’s Anti-Allergen Complete Seal Technology™ to capture and hold 99.99 percent of dust and allergens (this is a must in our house because 4 out of 4 people who live here, suffer from allergies and fear of dust bunnies.)

• Additional features include:
o Hard Floor Genie™ bare floor attachment picks up large debris and fine dust in one easy step (easy enough for a 7 and 9-year-old to use).
o Extra-long 30 foot power cord provides maximum range for cleaning large spaces.
o Specialized tools to offer versatility in cleaning include a premium pet power brush, upholstery tool, flexible crevice tool and canister caddy.

My Shark is awesome and that is saying something because up until now, I was a die hard Dyson fan but the dust don’t lie and now, maybe, I can get that maid I’ve always wanted and deserved without the shame of her judging my domestic abilities.

Disclosure: I was provided a Shark Rotator Powered Lift-Away for review purposes but all opinions and clean rooms are mine, all mine.

2014/12/02 1 comment

baby center, miscarriage, pregnancy loss

Throat Punch Thursday

Throat Punch Thursday ~ Baby Center & Miscarriage Edition

by Deborah Cruz 2012/07/06

written by Deborah Cruz

Baby Center Missed the Miscarriage Memo

Miscarriage Reminder from Baby Center. Due to the holiday and a lot of moving and packing and general exhaustion in the 107 degree weather, I was a bit discombobulated and Throat Punch Thursday is a day late. Yesterday, as I was packing up our home for our final good-bye, Baby Center sent me a “Congratulations, you are at the half way mark in your pregnancy”… Only, I’m not because I miscarried May 1st at 10 weeks and 4 days. I know this because every 1st day of the month, I am stabbed in the chest with a little knife that reminds me that I am missing something followed by my shark week that starts a few days later just so the point is driven home that my womb is EMPTY. So fuck you very much Baby Center, I didn’t need the reminder of what could have been because I’ve never forgotten! I know I lost my pregnancy, I don’t need bells and whistles as a reminder.

I got a bill in the mail today and I can’t let it go. Believe me I believe in paying for services. I pay my bills. I always have but there are some things in life that should be free and the fact that people have to be charged for these things makes me feel indignant and stabbity.

Oh yeah, the outrageous bill that I just received is what I’m being charged for my D&E. This has me truly indignant. In my mind, I KNOW it’s a surgery and it saved me from infections and all sorts of other painful repercussions but it’s not fair. I can’t even believe they charge for this. I understand that there are charges involved. I understand that doctors need to be paid, surgeons, anesthesiologists, nurses, medication needs to be dispensed but fuck me. In my heart, I don’t understand. I want to stomp my feet, scream at the top of my lungs and say “HELL NO! WE WON’T PAY for MISCARRIAGES!! THIS IS BULLSHIT!”

No Charge for Miscarriage Please

Paying for an unwanted D&E (is there such a thing really as a “wanted” one?) after my miscarriage is as awful as charging parents for their child’s pediatric cancer treatment. It’s like charging to give someone a drink when they are dying of thirst in the dessert. It’s like charging to throw someone a life preserver when they are drowning. It is withholding the cure for cancer because someone cannot afford the cure. It is bullshit.

There are just some things in life that should be free and a D& E is one of those things. There’s nothing quite like billing a broken woman for her own misery. Talk about insult to injury! I want to punch the hospital billing department square in the gullet just for having the audacity to bill me for my miscarriage. If anything, I feel like someone owes me something, an explanation would be nice. Maybe insurance should make pregnancy lossone of those things they pay for in its entirety, like getting your teeth cleaned. I’d considered it well being, its something that had to be done to keep my sanity after the loss. Paying for a miscarriage feels like paying for my own hit. I want to scream and yell for it to stop. I don’t want to pay for something I never wanted. I wanted my baby. I never wanted the miscarriage or the D&E. At the very least, maybe there should be a 6-month grace period before a bill is sent to the victim patient.

I guess it’s all still too fresh for me because Baby Center, the outrageous bill that I have to pay for something I NEVER wanted and being told, “I Bet you wish you would have sold all those baby toys at the garage sell now, don’t you?” makes me what to throat punch the lot of them and so I am. Throat Punches to Baby Center, the billing offices and the other asshole who shall remain nameless for being completely insensitive and douche canoes.

Who would you Throat Punch today? I know, I am in a really bad mood with this one. Sorry if I sound like a complete loon but honestly, leave it to all this emotional shit to surface right on shark week. This would be one of those posts where I cringe and hit publish anyway. I know it’s not politically correct to talk about the cost of a miscarriage or to be irate at Baby Center for sending me a reminder to celebrate the biggest loss of my life but it’s how I’m feeling today and I love you all for listening.

I am being featured at Erin Margolin And Your TRUTH Shall Set you Free today telling you all about my writer roots. You may be shocked at what you learn about your Truthful Mommy. I share my truth, no holds barred. Hope you will read and comment and stick around and check out Erin’s site. She is a wonderful writer and you will be glad you did. Have a wonderful weekend. Enjoy the moments with your family because that is what counts and try not to melt in this ridiculous heat. I’ll try not to bitch slap the next person who reminds me of my miscarriage.

Photo

2012/07/06 3 comments

why every mom needs an escape, mom vacation, momcation,vacation, disney world, Orlando Florida, Universal Studios, Shingle Creek, paradise, family vacation

Disney Travel

Vacation 101 ~ We’re Not the Griswolds but we Play Them on Vacation

by Deborah Cruz 2012/06/13

written by Deborah Cruz

Vacation

Family Vacation, the very term conjures up images of the Griswolds driving cross country, singing songs and wreaking havoc all while narrowly escaping death. This was sort of what our trip was like. Only it was a much needed and soul replenishing vacation in Orlando, Florida that began in an amazing hotel ans ended in Disney world. I can’t believe how much vacationing we fit into our 10 day road trip. Oh yeah, that’s right, I did it again. I swore I never would but I did and what a difference a few years makes. The difference between traveling with a 5 and 7 year and a 2 and 4 year old is the difference between strolling through the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon and being chased through the park during the middle of the night by an axe murderer with Mommy issues. World of difference. Vacation road trip was a huge success, if you don’t take into account the fact that I developed a raging case of shark week on the return trip home. Oye vey, my poor family.

Honestly,there is so much to tell you and so many great places and things to do in Orlando that I want to share with you that I am going to write this as a series over the next few weeks, every Friday will be Florida vacationing tips, tricks and honest reviews of some of the places we visited. Unfortunately, all were not great experiences.

As you can see from some of the photos above, there is a LOT to do in Florida and so many places to choose to spend your time and money so I feel it’s my duty to share what I learned; good, bad and ugly. Here are a few general tips to keep in mind while road tripping with small children:

Invest in a DVD player for the car. It will save your sanity and their little lives.
Bring snacks because small children and husbands get the munchies when they are on the road and the only thing that is worse than “are we there yet?” is a screamed chorus of “I’m hungry!”
Bring water because apparently in places where the humidity is 200% and you might die of dehydration, they feel it’s okay to charge $5 for a bottle of water. Hint: You can buy an entire case of bottled water for $5 in most cities, including Orlando, at the grocery store. Publix is your friend.
Never buy hotel rooms or tickets through a third party, there are hidden charges. Believe me we learned this lesson twice on this vacation to a total of about $300. Not a whole lot of money but it could have been spent on something better than what it was wasted on. Just say no to third party sales.
Always make sure to have children’s ibuprofen, adult ibuprofen, a thermometer, Neosporin, band-aids, hydrocortizone and pepto bismol in your bag at all times.
Bring a water proof back pack to carry your camera, passes, keys, extra clothes and bottles of water in while sight seeing.
When staying in a hotel, if you are watching your money, it may be worth it to consider going off grounds to purchase dinner. Case in point: Dinner for 4 at one of the hotel restaurants was $45 for sandwiches and drinks. Off grounds, the same meal would have cost about $20. Just something to think about.
ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS take a rain poncho with you when visiting Florida. I know that no one wears those damn ugly things unless they are going to a sporting event in the rain or an amusement park in the rain. We never buy these things until we are being rained on and then it will cost you an arm and a leg for essentially the cheapest Glad trash bag you will ever encounter. Know this now. It rains in Orlando, a lot. I’ve been several times and in every season and it ALWAYS rains. Somehow, I forgot and left the $1000 rain ponchos that I bought on my last trip at home and had to buy more. 6 more! There are only 4 of us but 2 of them ripped. There I was in the middle of the happiest place on earth getting water logged and extremely pissed off and then I laughed at myself, grabbed my 7 year old and started dancing and singing in the rain. Fuck it. Life’s too short! But if you melt and rain annoys you, BUY A RAIN PONCHO!
Sunscreen, sunscreen, sunscreen and Aloe. It is hot as hell in Florida and I’m not entirely sure that it is not the gateway to the underworld but it is beautiful and after awhile of looking into the sun and cooking yourself to 165 degrees, you get used to it. You may even stop sweating in 110 degree weather. Not me, I was sweating like a whore in church the entire time I was there but you may be a cooler cat than I on vacation. Once your eyes adjust and you get used to looking directly into the sun, don’t forget that you are probably being burnt to a crisp. Reapply sunscreen, SPF 50+ every 80 minutes and don’t forget the SPF lip balm. Believe me when I tell you, I forgot to reapply to myself. I thought I was safe because of my olive Latina skin. No one is safe. Florida chews up Latinos for breakfast every day and spits them out for lunch. Currently, I am no longer red but I am the damn freckliest Mexibilly you ever did see. But what about the children? I reapplied sunscreen to them every hour and they STILL got red.Please don’t let your babies burn. Nothing ruins a family vacation faster than a kid in pain from sunburn.

So much to say and do in Florida, there’s definitely more than just face eating zombies to keep you entertained. Our Griswold family vacation to Florida was pretty much awesome, with the exception of a few minor shark week induced over reactions, being water logged while alternately sweating our asses off and being burnt to a crisp and the incident with public relations at the place I will hence to forth refer to as Florida Throat Punch Recipient #1 (Universal). We loved our vacation and still think Florida is the happiest place on earth. I’m already planning next year’s trip. I’ve got loads of info about all the hottest things to do with children on your family vacation to Florida and will be giving you the down low on Fridays.

I need a vacation from my vacation

2012/06/13 11 comments

girl,bench, period, auntflo,menstruation,gym

Confessions Humor

Your Period, When God Shivs You in Your Lady Bits

by Deborah Cruz 2014/07/02

written by Deborah Cruz

Your period, that magical time of month when everything in the world irritates you.

Remember when you were in 7^th grade, way back before your mom would allow you to wear those whorish tampons that all the “cool” girls were wearing? Remember the good old days of wearing maxi-pads that had wings and were as big as a 747? Way before “First Moon Period Parties.” Back when your period, snuck up on you like a ninja and shivved you, usually someplace public, when you least expected it like right in the middle of confirmation or during your first boy/girl dance. Then you bled out like the near survivor of a shark attack? Way before your lady bits had a one of a kind special delivery in the mail each month.Hello aunt Flo, how the hell are ya? Yeah, good times.

Remember wearing a sweater “just in case” you had to McGyver it into an “accident” hiding cover up because you wore WHITE pants to school during your PERIOD? Yeah, me too. Puberty sucked for me. Besides the sprouting of all the hair in all the weird places and boobs growing (or not) you felt like a freak with pimples, greasy hair and if you were really lucky braces. But even with all of this, there was one silver lining …the missing of the gym class, more specifically swimming. You got to instead sit in the bleachers and hang with the other afflicted girls.

In middle school I was an awkward, gangly thing of a girl who had a growth spurt in every direction. I lost my center of gravity and any shred of self-esteem went into witness protection. But the period, as new and disgusting as it was to me in those first months, saved me from having to put on a bathing suit and jump in the water, emerging like the worlds ugliest drowned rat because, oh yeah, my dad wouldn’t let me shave my legs so, well, you can imagine what all that hair looked like wet. I did what any Latina girl my age would do, I grew a small mustache to distract people from everything else. No, not really. Not on purpose anyways. At least in regular gym class, I could cover it all up with nifty 1980’s tube socks.

From the moment I figured out that my “period’ could get me out of swimming, I immediately had at least 2 a month. That was 2 weeks a month of sitting on the bench writing notes and talking about boys. It was glorious while it lasted and then in 8^th grade I got a female gym teacher who I’m certain charted my cycle because it was back to one week on the bench and 3 looking like a drowned Mexican rat. Once again and for the next 28 years, my period never got me out of anything. In fact it got me into a lot of hard work, what with all the sex, pregnancies and children and all. Until today.

My period rescued me and used its power for good and not evil, for once.

In the past year, my girls have really begun to understand puberty and what is going to happen thanks to our dog who went into heat. They both know that the hair, boob fairy and period are all on its way. I’ve also assured them this is all very natural and I will make sure that they have all the necessary items available, including a razor, an aesthetician for those out of control eyebrows and lip hair, Midol, a good bra and dark chocolate. We are prepared.

Then this morning, I woke up feeling more than a little crampy on day 4 of flood gate shark week so I said to the girls, “ Girls, I don’t think we can go to the pool today. “ It was met with the expected, whiney, “WHY??????” (because to be honest they beg me daily to go to the pool, rain or shine) and I calmly told them the truth. “Well, I’m having my period and it’s one of those “heavy” days. I’m feeling really crampy and I just don’t think my tampon would survive the walk down to the pool.” To which my 7-year-old ( yes, the same one who yelled that I was going into heat once before in a public restroom) knowingly shook her head, turned to her sister and said, “See, mom’s going through puberty again.” Then she said, “It’s okay mommy. That would be gross. Let’s do crafts.” No argument, no long sigh, no whining.

I don’t know about you but I’m thinking I might be having two periods a month again. I figure she’s got at least 4/5 years before she figures out any different. God, I love being a woman.

Period party, anyone?

2014/07/02 7 comments

Parenting

I see Sick People

by Deborah Cruz 2011/12/22

written by Deborah Cruz

Sick People get on my Nerves. Now, before you go all batshit crazy on me for making such an outlandish and insensitive remark right at the holidays. Let me explain.

2011/12/22 6 comments

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