The matrix

 The year is 2021.  I sit in my amazon purchased discount chair that is just one year older, but looks battered and weather worn. Much like me. 

I am not an eloquent writer. I enjoy spelling, but rely on word check to tell me I'm wrong just to have me stare at that angry red line for a long time deciding if I actually care enough to change it. 

I used to write a lot more. I used to draw a lot more. Loving someone on the spectrum continues to require growth on my end and frankly I am extremely imperfect and it would be easier if I wasn't. 

In the last 7 years I've had another child, moved 3 times, graduated with my AA (arts and human expression)-which was a complete fete nestled with demands of family life. I've cried a lot, made new friends, lost old friends, fostered kittens, lost our therapy cat, adopted a cat (not a therapy animal), broken an ankle-extremely inconvenient (0 out of 5 stars). I've laughed a lot and cried a lot.

I've realized as a mom with some specific challenges in my family-I haver very little answers. And THAT is what is so freaking annoying. 

I've been picked up by people who continually love me and stick around and find my specific obnoxious curiously endearing and have been scathed by some who (gasp) find me extremely annoying and do not enjoy me (I know I to am shocked I am unlikeable)*

Someone asked me when I thought things would be more back to normal. 2024. I think by 2024 there will be a more easy normal than what we have going on right now. Still masked, still no full time school in person for kids. 

I've been looking at this pandemic the same way as I did 10 years ago. When my 2nd (now nearing teenhood) was not sleeping through the night I would tell myself "She will sleep through the night by the time she is 15"

And you know what she eventually did sleep through the night, we don't have bi monthly doctor visits for asthma/urgent care visits. 

I'm holding out for 2024 and until then I'm doing the best I can in my worn out looking skin

Siblings and meltdowns

My daughter a couple weeks ago would not even enter our home because when she opened the front door she could hear my son screaming. She-and myself-knew that he was starting a meltdown.

It is  an awful feeling knowing I do not have complete control over my home and the behaviors in it.

As a parent I can create the boundaries and consequences in my home, however, I can not directly control someone else and how they respond. Especially if they naturally lack the skills and maturity to better direct themselves.

I do not believe in sweeping things under the rug. I tell my daughter its Okay, I understand why she doesn't want to go inside and I'll send Daddy out so she can tell him about all the fun things we did at Girl Scouts and I go switch with my husband to help our son cope and calm down.

I believe that  part of protecting my daughter is acknowledging the unique things in our family that are hard and even scary.

 Seeing your brother in full meltdown-needing at times-to be physically removed screaming like a feral animal is scary. Full blown meltdown mode is not pretty. And we talk about how uncomfortable, awkward (sometimes even socially) it can be for her.

And our son afterwards has more ability to acknowledge and apologize to the people around him. Just like when our daughter stomps off yelling mean things-she has the opportunity to apologize and acknowledge. This then gives us time as a family to bond and forgive-or at least acknowledge the person's attempts at verbal restitution.

The meltdown that we were about to walk into after that daisy scout event was over turning off a  video game. There was support, warning etc. and it was not any kind of new event that our son was introduced to. I know my son well enough to know that usually there is a silent build up to such a dramatic event but it is at times even hard for me to detect beforehand (like how animals instinctively change behavior before an earthquake-sometimes I know beforehand something is about to happen)

She also instinctively knows that when she hears that scream she is going into a situation that is not only uncomfortable but could potentially be harmful to herself. This is the dead of the floor type of heartbreaking realization for me.

Yes, it gives opportunity to discuss and talk about feelings and how we can help ourselves in this situation, what we can do next in that moment or next time. But in many ways I feel so frustrated that it is something she even needs to worry about.

It feels nearly the same way when my son cries because his sister is invited to another birthday party when he has had one invitation in two years from a peer.

It's all black and white being honest on  how personal behavior affects relationships with others but that is not something that applies to the fundamentals of being a child who is learning about themselves still and have feelings and need to belong.

Each of my children have amazing special gifts. And as our baby grows I am so looking forward to getting ot know  him better and his personal gifts-and yes-even challenges.

What this parenting stuff continues to teach me is to not wish for things to be different but to recognize what we have and do the best to cope, change or let it go.

I can wish all I want but it will only leave me frustrated and discouraged. I hope to teach this to my children as well-not that I have any way mastered it. But maybe at least help by example show them that it is the better choice.

Between the layers of cookies

Well I think my biggest fan right now is my needy cat. I should say-my son's needy cat. Her name is coco and she is awesome-and crazy.

Last February and much thought, research and an $800 renters deposit we went to our local animal shelter (where I had been volunteering until I became pregnant (aka shared a bed with my husband)-to help look for a special cat).

I had read about the benefits of dogs as therapy animals but I am not meant to be an alpha leader to a dog. I am more of a "one day I'll buy a dog to carry in a purse kind of person" right now.

On the day we were to go the animal shelter we had prepped the kids. I had gone online and looked up cats that were listed-many of which stated "good with kids" or "not"

And my husband and I prayed that in the end we would know which cat would best suit the needs we had in our family.

Backing up-Part of my research was about traits one would desire in a therapy animal.

Ours needed to be very forgiving, needy enough to continually want attention and our purpose was that adding this animal to our family would help teach patience, empathy, companionship, loyalty and responsibility

We thought we had a cat picked out but our son was continually drawn to the older female cats. In the end we brought home our newly rebranded cat coco. To say she is vocal is an understatement. She has scared  and startled many visitors with a cat screech and then a rough rubbing against your legs. Most cats you hear a noise or a loud yell you think "OK the cat wants space". She likes to rub her face on you with one of her teeth sticking out and has on more than one occassion licked my face in the morning or nibbled on my shirt for attention


She sounds like if she were a smoker in her first life. Like her meower was broken and then became a two packer a day. At first she only wanted to eat human food. She would beg like she was dying when we had dinner.

And I think this is where I bonded with her-food. I would be like "Totally get it but you've got to go eat your hard little cat rocks-this pie is allll for me!"

She has been a very welcome addition to our family and has indeed not only provided comfort and behavioral reinforcement for our son. But also companionship and an opportunity to feel responsible for something that you help nurture and take care of. I don't think any cat could do this (all the ones I grew up with were less than cuddly but gratefully always willing to the dry chicken that was slaved over and then hidden under the hutch behind my seat at the table).


We have had her over a year now and she is just starting to sleep on our kid's bed's. And sometimes will get on your lap. She is approximately 12 years old.

So many small things happen on a daily basis. This last year has brought us a new sibling for my children, 30lbs to lose for myself (thank  you oreos, sprained ankle and sheer laziness).  Continued Remission for my mom, Stitches, lessons but has made me more grateful for the crazy cat coco.

She loves my son. She has helped teach him patience and reciprocating affection and showing appropriate attention. She can tell when he is getting agitated and working up and it isn't that she goes to comfort him she moves away. This provide opportunity to point out the behavior is affecting what he might want from her (he can't keep petting her or be next to her if she doesn't feel comfortable or safe).
He has had the opportunity to help train her. That she comes when you whistle or call her name by positive reinforcement.    And I do think it has given more opportunity for open conversations about behavior recognition and even if you make a mistake you are still welcome in our family.

So between all the layers of cookies gathered around my body helping me tightly round out my size 12 pants-I would say that coco has been a needed and necessary benefit for our family.

And she will be around as long as she doesn't' start peeing on anything (I have never had a cat I have owned pee on stuff....children yes...but cats no) so I guess in the end I would probably still keep her because there is not way she could ever out busy or trouble make my children and it is nice to sometimes have someone to cry into a french fry with.

This was in the meet and greet room at the shelter feb 2015 (which by the way had their first "no kill" for dogs and cat's last year)-so awesome!

Mostly vanity

You know what? After this 3rd baby I have made a special effort to put myself together every morning.

People said to me right after having him-you look great! All dressed for the day!

My response "Because I do not want to pass the mirror and feel like the crypt keeper!"

I am pretty honest about being vain. If you want to wear birkenstocks with cracked dry heels and no bra and that makes you happy then fine.

For me. I have been using antiwrinkle cream since I was 20.

Yes, for vanity reasons! Why else would someone do it.

I have the feeling that I am going to be the obese older lady who gets a facelift to look younger. I am not going to have a raw avacado for breakfast  and eat all fresh everyday to help stay looking healthy and younger...I'll take the knife thank you and the norco I am pretty sure they would prescribe.

Because I am  bit more of a lazy vain.

So sometimes I want to make a list of advice for new moms or even moms who have just had a baby

"if it is a chore and you don't want to do it...don't do it"

"if you are feeling yucky try wearing blush. Just blush. If you aren't a makeup person just try it. It does make a difference. Not bronzer...I repeat not bronzer but blush"

"Make sure to shower everyday. Cleaning your person and shaving (if you are into that-I have recently discovered not everyone is) makes you feel human. We do not have cat tongues,"

I would much rather spend time getting myself ready for the day than cleaning up my house

This is the kitchen on a good day.

To all the adults who keep things clean. You are welcome. 

Its like when I watch hoarders. It makes me want to clean something

Blessings of partial Inclusion

His first date night with his dad :) 2009

I only have my experience in working with the public school education system. In my specific area. 

When I googled time out room I got lots of horrific stories of it being misused. children locked in there for hours, anxiety attacks, hospital transfers. 

Not all school districts I know use a time out room. 

Someone once lamented to me about whether or not it was fair that a child with severe disability who would most definitely not be apart of society in a social way in a worklplace adult environment-should have  a one on one nurse, a one on one aide etc. 

When did it become our societies responsibility to pay for all of these things? they said

It costs so much money and schools already don't have enough. they said

I was not dumbfounded hearing this.

Since my childhood I had overheard differing views of the no child left behind act. 

My response was 

"I am grateful for it. As a society we should be compassionate and loving to individuals whatever their disability. Those parents with children-especially with children-who have 24/7 needs-they deserve to have their children also looked after while at school."

It feels a little like if you don't fit this mold and you only need this much then the school system should not be for you or your child. And that is not only-in my opinion-un christlike-but misses the opportunity for love. 

The parents of kids with special needs-I have met- have been more than willing to go above and beyond for their child. They try to make whatever they can work. 

Not everyone is blessed with the financial means to provide certain care for their children-even when they do make very large sacrifices. 

I am grateful-even if it is very very flawed still-that there is recognition of the worth and of the different challenges  our kids have. 

That schools-in my experience-have been working on being more accommodating. 

One of my blessings is a small group classroom that my child can learn in. 

I realized a year ago after feeling like for so long I was battling uphill for so so so long that I needed to continue to push to find my village. 

That I could not build and help my child just between my husband and I.

I am the foundation for my child and I still help architect for him to help him be the most successful he can be but I need help putting up drywall. 

They say it takes a village to raise a child.

 But really, it takes a loving, caring, educated, compassionate and hard working village to raise a child. 

Which most often involves (as a parent) hand picking who gets to be in it. 

I am in no rush to mainstream my child. 

The most important part for me is not the validation from educators that my child is worth it and belongs in a large class (it will piss me off if  I get that from them, however..) 

but that my child learn in an environment that they can be supported and taught. 

I know my child has been/would be overwhelmed in a large group setting. 

My child is aware enough socially to know when they are the only one with a special behavior chart, that they need to be escorted and have an aide. 

They have struggled to make friends, keep friends, they feel different and unconfident.

I want to teach my child independence and those skills for independence as they are capable of having them. Not limited to black and white grade level curriculum goals. 

Even the Federal government has stated education is social, emotional along with academic

I have been in school and I know the ostracizing affect being in resource can have socially on a child-especially in middle school. 

I am not looking for, or to avoid all uncomfortable or growing situations for my child

but when there IS an option available for partial inclusion 

I will do the Obama fist bump.

I am hoping to teach and nurture each of my children how to function in society. Not to make them pretend to be who they aren't but now to cope with what there is.

Because this means-for me-that my child has gained the skills needed to feel confident and successful with a larger group of peers.

And that is a huge HUZZAH as a parent

The importance of connection

I always dreamed of having children. I had a dream of living on the beach, going out to the sand and playing with my children in the California sunshine for their growing ups. 

I figured out pretty early on that a lot of my motivation comes from having fun and spending time together. 

Wanting to spend time with someone who does not always have the tools and means to give back can be exhausting and feel hurtful because...well we aren't Jesus and perfect. 

In our family we started date nights. It first started out as a way to get my husband and our oldest out of my hair and out of the house so I could have some quiet time

but as we added to our family with a second and now a third having that one on one time with your children-has been a game changer. 

I like my people better when the regular demands of life and parenting are put on a burner and our main goal when we go out is to enjoy eachother. 

It is hard to bond with someone when either you or they don't have anymore to give, or just aren't equipped the same way to give how you might personally need it. 

My child does need time. Lots of time. Each of my children needs lots of time. 

And I had to learn how to separate (and still learning how to) the difference between the emotional and mental time it takes during the day, weekends, summers, vacations to care for them and anticipate their behaviors and the actual bonding time that we have. 

Because they are two separate things. 

For us a Sushi night is the best kind of night. 

It involves usually playing math games and listening to what they are thinking about even if it means waiting long pauses before the full story comes out. I am learning better with my a.d.d brain not to interrupt or assume a sentence is over. 

Our last date I made a point of dressing up for our date, lipstick, heels etc. 

And on arriving at the restaraunt my child proudly told at least 3 people

"We are on a date!!"

And it made my heart so so so happy. To see them not just excited but also chatting up the waitress and appropriately responding to questions asked. 

Its these nights that I most remember why I fell in love with this person I brought to this world on purpose. And how grateful I am and lucky to have such wonderful people in my home.

Even if sometimes they still smear poop on things.

Blessings of the Spectrum

For any parent who has a child with extra special needs a diagnosis could be a blessing or a curse (and maybe this just depends on the day). It may or may not be a relief having a new starting point with somewhat structured direction.

I only have the experience of being in my own shoes. And those shoes were usually worn-in rainbow flip flops.

When my child received a "diagnosis" if you will it was a relief. Not because there was a "Oh now we know how to fix it"it was more of a "Now we can get his IEP or 504!".

I remember having a discussion with my husband. I was sitting on our bed the white comforter squished underneath me and talking to him about the parenting struggles and doubts I was having. I talked to him about how I struggle to know what is best to do for our child, how exhausting it can be to deal with tantrum after tantrum and feel absolutely no control over the outcome.

I remember he said "...down the road they may receive an autism diagnosis and it might be nice just to have a starting point". Like the basis of "Oh this is typical with these specialties" and "Its not just me being a poor parent".

I think our real starting point was our child as a toddler. And for years I felt (and was verbally) judged that my parenting was not strong willed enough to will my child to obey. To sit still. To not tantrum.

Since a baby I have read lots and lots of parenting book, trying to find new key pieces to try when just natural intuition wasn't always helping.

I read Parenting the Spirited child, Happiest baby and Happiest toddler on the block, and many of which I never finished because I knew the philosophies were so different than my natural style that they would not work in our home.

For years I was more silently overwhelmed and would get depressed that I wasn't doing enough as a parent. Then I had to come to the conclusion that my job was to help make my child the best human they could be on this earth. Whatever that meant for them.

Yes, I sought help from professionals and my pediatricians but on meeting my child "he made eye contact, he speaks, and they sounds very typical in behavior". But what I see now that they couldn't see was the actual  potency and fervor these behaviors had.

When I described the behaviors (which anyone else rarely saw-they were saved for home most of the time and I began not venturing out as much because I was embarrassed and tired and didn't want to share them publicly-my fault not my child's)AND I primed my child and prepared pretty carefully to avoid extra stressful situations with others around (which obviously led to all outbursts mostly being at home..while my husband was traveling or I was home alone).

 Looking back I think these professionals without experiencing the behavior first hand thought I was an overly paranoid mom.

So, with my child being 7 at the time and receiving a "diagnosis" it was in no way surprising or shocking to myself or husband but it felt like a mini victory for me.

I was not just a bad parent!

I had already guessed they were on the spectrum because in times of trouble I read and research what I can and I had been with children my entire growing up and babysat, did respite care etc through college. I knew what more typical behavior was. I didn't start from scratch on my child development knowledge.

So for any parent who might get a diagnosis, a diagnosis is not an excuse. It does not need to be labeling your child but it can be very empowering. A blessing of a diagnosis or approximatey to one means there is a different starting point and often-and obviously-there is not a cure but it means there is some knowledge out there that can be found that can be helpful.

I still struggle with figuring out my balance as a woman, a parent, a wife and a child of God who enjoys participating in serving at my church.

And some days my childs specialties feel like a curse and I get "woe is me! ish" but the biggest bless that I try to constantly remember in my mind is "I created this child on purpose-they are lent to me from God and I'll be damned if I don't do all I can to help them be their best selves, whether they can aknowledge my efforts or not".

For anyone with a newly enlightened starting point tighten your girdle and keep going. You are capable and doing hard things-even stressful things (which may age us my hundreds of years in the face) brings about the empowerment of personal capability. 

Emotional spending or structured getaway?

OK So I will just disclaimer. On days I wake up all of a sudden, the household is already up and husband is kissing me goodbye while leaving for work at 8ish I usually have a little more anxiety.

Then, coming downstairs and seeing the energy level and my boy starting to work into stimulation (running around in circles, repeating the same thing) its upps the anty.

Usually I need to decide on the kind of day for us right away.

 Either I plan a strict schedule, tell myself not to worry about it and keep moving with the day. Because I can handle things how they happen (but it is hard for me-meaning sometimes I am just big and tired).

So when the kids ran outside while I was eating my cereal (in pj's no less) and then the neighbor kids came over (3 of them) I was like "OH no".

I think first I'll give it 20 minutes and stand by the slider door and eat my cereal but as soon as I see any sign of struggle between my oldest and the youngest (I think he is about 3) which I intervene I know I need to reasess.

This means I give the kids a 5 minute warning after I see more energizing from Andrew (and banned them from coming in the house-I just cleaned it up yesterday!) Because at 9:30 in the morning its just too early to have social confrontations for me to handle between my oldest and the other kids.

Yes, yes. There are no guarantees but it is highly likely that it will happen. I am not being pessimistic about he situation I just know my son.

When I start seeing some of these behaviors right in the morning its really easy to start worrying about about the new school year and then this can spiral into worrying about the other parts of the future with a 3rd child! This is where someone needs to dump cold water over my head and say "Calm down!"

I-just like my son- need to be distracted and make a very scheduled day and figure out how to make it "fun" for all of us. How to help the day build on what we can do instead of worrying about what hasn't worked and being sad or bothered about it.

My first thoughts are of escaping on vacation as a family

 (seriously, go to Disneyland-one reason why our passes were so awesome and dreamy to me when we lived down there) because even though Disneyland was stimulating it had a lot going on. We have been going to Disneyland since our guy was little.

When it was just us and the kids or me and the kids we had figured out how to make it work for our family dynamic. I would take going to Disneyland with Andrew almost any day to going to a crowded Thanksgiving point (the educational fun center that is just a 15 minute drive from our house now).

Believe it or not but I feel like Disneyland is more structured and patterned than anything at Thanksgiving point. Even when Disneyland is really busy its usually full of other families not rogue children.

 There is too much crazy running around and kids whose parents feel can self monitor and are not paranoid like me or have the same needs with their kids let them run loose and this creates more worrisome social dynamics for me as a parent with a child who often does not understand all those things and frankly does not always behave appropriately.


So being 38+ weeks pregnant and tired and sore I think we are going to run errands (Still stimulating) but with my awesome minivan with wireless headphones and a movie that you can pop in and the fact we don't live very close the errands-it will be better than trying to corral anyone all day in my home. Structure and pattern for the day will be a lot easier carried out in a contained environment.

And seeing as now running errands is my escape from the house I kind of realize how its also a pattern of emotional spending! lol I guess we all have our issues to deal with.

Playing Kinder bunnies

Prada heels and hearing voices

I'm very pregnant right now. When I told my OB that I was feeling a bit "Wreck it Ralph" I think it alarmed him. I had to explain it was the quote "My emotions bubble close to the surface"

I sat there and basically started tearing up and explained how  "I just feel on the brink of tears like when they suggested he be transferred to a specialized classroom I went home and lost it-cried uncontrollably"


He sat there (and for the record I love him and think he is a great doctor) looked at me and clarified "who is they?"

And this made me laugh because my first thought was "Oh my gosh he's concerned I am hearing voices!"

Any parent has growing pains-as in learning what it is that your child needs and each child is different. Learning to cope and adapt with these needs.

And OK stepping back I am reminded that when you are pregnant emotions are often brimming.

I could cry for a sad commercial, to see a baby smile, that I can no longer shave my bikini line because my stomach is too big to maneuver around but all these smaller things aside I have to asses my own loss of maybe the hope of a different kind of normalcy.

I have learned that in many ways I am grieving at times the loss of my own dream for my son. I can just see now hell raining down from other parents who would say to me "never wish for a different child!" And I think I could just look at them politely and say "I don't wish for a different child-I wish I knew better how to help mine in the perfect way perfectly so that I never had daunting exhausting moments!"

Actually, probably back that up. I don't' think I could say that politely but I think in a snooty, absurd and immature way I imagine I could just turn up my nose and prance away in Prada heels while they smelled my Chanel no 5.

Because I sometimes too-can only tantrum to express my feelings-I would just figure out how to do it in a very haughty way that I am sure I would feel guilty about later but be very satisfied at the moment.  Like a good ol' "Well you smell like mustard".

Last week I had a big crying moment. After talking my son down from throwing large rocks at me and the others who were at the 'playdate' getting him home, getting him some peaches (I knew he was probably hungry as well so his coping was down) and he self regulated and cheered up I had to go to the bathroom close the door and cry to myself. I also texted my sister. Because I am a person who knows I don't like to cry by myself.

Sometimes it just feels like a lot. It feels exhausting. When the everyday norm doesn't feel like the norm it feels very very heavy.

I think this is a very real part of having a child that has special needs.

So after years of being told that my son was "typical" and me doubting my capabilities as a mom when it seemed that other families did not have the same issues we were dealing with, doing tons of reading of parenting books, online research,

After years of this to go from "HE doesn't need testing" to "We think he would benefit from transferring to a specialized classroom for next year" it was kind of dumbfounding.

This was in the space of like 2-3 months.

I think I was so bothered by it because I think in a way when for so long was validation but when I got it I was sad that he really did need it.

It wasn't just about maybe I was a bad parent, that I wasn't crazy for worrying about these things and dealing with them but that the normalcy that I knew in my education growing up was not what was going to be best for him.

I knew this but when the suggestion came, when the test results came back and the school saw more of the pieces of my child it kind of solidified this path.

For technical purposes I'll be more clear. My son does not qualify for AUTISM. And Autism spectrum disorder is not included anymore in diagnosis for federal autism testing. My son is high functioning, he is verbal, he does not really fit a classic diagnosis of Autism or Aspergers, he has lots of pieces of each. And as I told his school psychologist "I understand this but maybe he is a new niche".

I recognize a big difference in the struggles between parents with children who might be able to be diagnosed as what I might Say is Classic autism (I really don't know if there is a politically correct way to say this-so if its annoying I guess I need to click my Prada's at you for now). I am only somewhat e d u m u h c a t e d.

I am relearning to have empathy for parents with 'typical' kids. My husband does not like this term typical. Because all kids are unique and have different challenges (he is an amazing spouse to have at IEP meetings and BIP meetings btw) but to me in order to be able to recognize the amount of effort I do put in everyday and not judge my own self for not being able to 'control' my child or teach my child by direct example (where they observe and mimick naturally) I needed a way to support my struggles so it is a term I use. And to not feel so frustrated at times "This worked yesterday what kind of day is today going to be like????!" I needed to differentiate between my struggles and others.

And to validate so that I did not keep comparing myself to other parents. What your child doesn't play dead and scream like a feral animal when they are overstimulated and tired and if someone giggles (even not at them) not understand their meaning they don't try to scratch them? hmmm..thats weird.

I have had to come to terms (and I am learning everyday) to have empathy and love for any parent with a child of any age tantrumming (ok this has to be a real word but I can't figure it out...yes see below I am not a perfectionist personality-but my spell check is angry at it right now) because sometimes I want to say while wagging my perfectly manicured finger "Uh, Uh, you have no idea-calm down and stop complaining".

Despite wondering at times if my son would be better off with a mom who was a lot more type A red personality (if there is any real validation in that- I am a yellow who is easily distracted) I realize with my sons naturally very defiant tendencies, it has been good that my quirkyness has benefited him.

And I have to take my own advice at times. It is normal and healthy to have breakdown moments. For any parent of any child to feel tired and overwhelmed. It does not mean I do not love my child it means I care deeply about them and do worry if I can do enough. If I can get all the right help for him and support to help make him a successful human of planet earth-and whatever that means for him.

When you deal with tantrums its like your emotions need to be put in a box in the back of your mind. Your social embarrassment, your anger at the choice they are making. It needs to be locked up so you can deal with it calmly.

And those feelings need to go somewhere and sometimes that is into a tissue in a dark bathroom with the door locked.


My son lives in a world where he is going to have to work extra hard to understand and cope with and my daughter has this amazing ability to verbalize all her emotions whatever that might be which I love and admire and really encourage.

So, tomorrow is a new day. I have my basic routines down with my son and being large (38 weeks along) and swollen (I call my foot a stump because its the same size as my leg currently) I have to be grateful for all that I have.

I can recognize the hardships, challenges, the long exhausting journey I feel like this past year as especially been for our family but the fact that I get to be a mom if frickin awesome.

And if one day I upgrade my worn rainbow flip flops for prada highheels and decided to take the time to get my nails done regularly on my hands then double hallelujah for me-I've probably made it.

One Wedding and a Funeral

                              Just one wedding this year for me. My sister's.
Being that she is older than me, a lawyer and has older kids, she probably has had some more relationship experiences than I have with men and I should not worry. And I don't worry in a real sense (I love this guy!)

 but I still feel the strong desire to whip out a good ol gruff Irish accent and threaten him good in true to a made up home country brogue "You treat her well or I'll have your arse". And I'll squint me eye at him whilst I take me pipe out of my mouth and blow it in little hammer shapes above him.

And-this coming- from a 5'4 160lb blonde female this will be very intimidating. With me suspenders pulled slightly away with my gloved thumbs and my Italian Grandma Body tapping deh boot of me moccasin on the bar's wood floor.


I still have a couple months to find a nice dress to fit this curvaceous mexican/american/scottish/hotchocolate sweating body. Oh but I'll do it.

This weekend has been pretty sucky-for me. And I am pretty sure my hot sexy nurse husband is pooped out as well. I was down and out with strep throat...and got the flu. Like the puke flu. When my body gets angry and sick it likes to let it out all the other end as well. Because basically, even after all the years of evolution in my gene pool my bowels are very weak willed (I would not have survived pioneering).

So tonight, Monday. After my oldest finished his Harry Potter reading. My youngest (yes there are two of em) was sound asleep. I did what any normal, hormonal, socially deprived, recovering sicky would do.

I decided to go on Zillow and look up my house in California. The one we are renting while we are moved to this new country of Utah. Then I go to Redfin and find what looks to be a google camera picture of the front.
Yes, the one bush my husband begged me not to take out-missing. (my intention was to take out all of them....there were three) . The end of the driveway light (that was runover by my husband...by "mistake" according to him. After I told him I was going to put a red and blue light in them and flash the light anytime a car was speeding by. Coincidence? I think not) still duck taped...thats right DUCK taped.

 But seeing our old home, in all its somewhat outdated awesomenes-I mostly noticed the  citrus trees and flowers out front,  and our cars parked out front in the photo. I see the sun shining, trimmed green lawn and lampost.
Well, it made me cry.

It first started as one silent tear falling. Then as my husband comes over (I am laying in our king bed cradling my little netbook) curiously asking what I am looking at-I show him the picture-and start to nearly weep.

"I miss our old house!"

Within a  few minutes l I am semi bawling (the kind that gets stuck in your nose because you are trying to hold it in (and at which point he has brough in reinforcements for me...and himself...chocolate)

"I miss my home Country!"
"I miss having friends come over to visit. I miss not having friends to go visit whenever I want. I miss not having my family nearby! I miss being able to take a walk in shorts and flip flops in January and be in the sunshine!"

As you can guess. Yes, I am a big baby. And Yes, after laying in bed for three days very sick with little protein and forced fluids, stuck inside away from real society....I was not my best self.

So I sit muddled over my hot chocolate (which is delicous) pj shirt and underwear on moaning about my sadness.

 I suggest that maybe I need to have a funeral for my home country of California.

"So you can let it go and move on?" he asks with optimism and brightness returning to his eyes.

"NO! The grieving process is a long one and I am still in angry/sad phase!"

I think this is the point in the story where he should have been allowed to take a courtesy bow and walk backwards awkwardly out of the room and throw chocolate at me (well I should say MORE chocolate he had already made me some hot chocolate which I was crying into...as I said at the beginning...old italian grandma body). But he stayed with me blinking occasionally.

After a few blubbery  breaths I suggested he do the Eulogy for the funeral. I could sit in the corner in a lovely black chanel tweed dress suit with veil over face and beautifully cry into my hermes hankerchief. Short legs crossed on top of the stool I am using (My feet  can't touch the ground unless I am wearing very high heels-which I blame on my mexican gene pool so the stool is necessary). He, handsome as always, carrying out a beautiful speech how "Despite the dang high reality prices, crazy income taxes and electricity rate...California was A M A Z I N G". And I would nod in approval as he sat respectfully next to me patting my knee gently.

Next, Andrea Bocceli would sing "Ave Maria" and come over afterwards, hold my face in his hands and tell me how young my skin feels. And I would say "its due to the Utah weather, I never see the sun and I am constantly applying special cream to my face to not let it crack from the dryness".

Yes, I think I'll have to do this funeral sometime soon.

I think its Ok to mourn the loss of a different life. Of friends. Of family. I don't believe you ever lose anything (besides your mind) or anybody forever. However,   sometimes  it feels we are forced to walk through a door without a turn back handle. Its been 6 months since we moved here and it has felt like when you fit into your skinny jeans again and you are feeling all good and then suddenly 4 days later they are 3 sizes too small. Like a little hope and dream was shattered-and you literally hear it being crushed.



I don't know if I will ever feel like I "fit in" or find "my zone" here if you will. Its just a different culture and-at no surprise to me-I am surviving the winter and don't really enjoy some of the culture changes I have found here
 I have lots of tools I use and coping strategies to deal with this  but it doesn't make it easier. It just makes it throb a  little less. I know it will work out. I need to give it at least 3 years. It seems it can take getting used to anything almost in 3 years. I also think after three years I will better understand if I can swallow more years here or if I need to find an alternative income to get back to my homeland.

And despite my low tolerance bowels-I have a strong heart and soul. And these short legs are going to work that linoleum dance floor at my sisters wedding-in whatever stretchy dress I mush this pregger body into.

Because of this awesome happy wedding-I will get a vacation sooner to California!

Children

I have gone through so many different emotions about how many children to have in our family. Annoyed at the prospect of waiting to add to our family. Feeling strongly like we needed to add-going through an very interesting and very hard learning experience with the State of California Foster-adoption program and then coming back around to  "we would love to add to our family" but when the right time comes we will know it-and that could be 15 years from now.

I used to feel more guilty about not having more kids. Where I live now it is very common to have families with 5+ children. And when I first moved in I felt different because our family was much smaller than that.

I think for I gave in to the lie that people who are religious and family oriented have large families. Because life is all about children and families. And that last part I do believe. I do believe Families-if you have the opportunity AND would like to have children is awesome. But I do not believe that proof of how much family is important to you relies on the number of children you have.

My perspective on what it means to have children and to parent has changed as I have become more aware and sensitive to the time and needs that my children have.

I genuinley thought at age 19 when I married that since I was married younger our family would have 5 kids by the time I was 30. Then I would dust off my hands and be done having kids and move forward with my life. I maybe would go to school, get a job, whatever that was.

That was not exactly what I wanted but for some reason I think that was expected of me. Kids and babies are the things you get out of the way before your other life begins. Like you parent them as babies and toddlers and then put them on cruise control and you go about to do your 'real' ambitions in life.

It is not true. I see now having my two (which are 19 months apart dare I say) has been a luxury. Not because some people struggle more than we have to have a family but because of the dynamic of our family and the special needs within our family-at these ages. And some of these more urgent special needs are not becoming apparent until being older.

So I am grateful now and can see why My father in Heaven helped guide our family the way he did. I am grateful that my naieve thinking didn't place an extra burden on my children because of my lack of understanding of parenting.

Parenting is Forever and I plan on doing it with a purpose.

There was a part of me that was so excited with both my kids being in school. I thought about getting a part time job somewhere just to meet people and have extra cash at hand for maybe a trip to Disneyland. But fortunately for me I knew I needed to wait a while before persuing side  hobbies if you will while the kids are at school. And now with the great deal of time I am needed at my children's school to help, for meetings etc. I am grateful I don't have other huge obligations outside my family.

I do at times daydream about having a nanny. Like a respite nanny on a weekly basis but I've learned that frozen meals vs the homemade ones and even, yes, taking your family to mcdonalds or KFC for dinner is better than lashing out at your children or husband because you have had a stressful day being "mom" and with being "mom" whatever that entails within your home.

Having a large or little amount of children is not a badge of honor or proof of how good or bad of a parent you are. How your children behave isn't necessarily either.


Sometimes being a parent sucks. I don't care what anyone says. As a parent you have basically no control over your children. You influence, care and love and create boundaries and expectations for them but any good parent cannot control their children. And sometimes not having control truly sucks in so many different ways. But a great gift that we can give children is by making concious choices, with the guidance of a loving Heavenly Father so that our families can thrive-whatever size that is. 

Crazy cat lady!

With the deathly hallows of winter loafing around the trees -I want to stand outside and in an operatic fashion sing my toil and sorrow while shaking a fist.

And lucky for my family-and my neighbors. This scenario is another chapter filed into "what I wanted to do but didn't".

My hubwah (aka merswah aka kermie) planned a couples get away to Florida. Florida! No, not for the winter but for the end of August. Yes, it was super hot but it was so awesome to get away for a while together. I have never been away from the children for that long and despite being filled with a lot-I mean a lot- of anxiety I got on the mother toting plane and road my sore bum to Florida with my man.
Luckily, despite my anxieties the trip was fairly stressful and it reminded me of all the wonderfulness of being married and having such a loving and supportive partner. Who despite my many crazies works with me to keep our great life.

 On my birthday we went to an Italian restaurant on the resort. I was feeling all fancy and ordered a virgin concoction drink and had appetizer, food, etc. And there was a trio roaming the tables  serenading guests. When asked what my favorite kind of music was I told them "Sam Cooke". They didn't know any Sam Cooke songs but whatever it was she sang melted from her and I wanted a bowl to catch it. I love music.
I am not musical. I do not sing well but I appreciate those with the talents to do it and I could have sat there staring wide grinned at her dedicated version of whatever song dripped out.

When they moved to the next table I felt myself wanting to follow them. And I giggled to myself and my merswah picturing me standing behind them singing like scully from Little Mermaid- behind their melodic voices. So awesome.  If the lights went off and a disco ball started twirling ahead with a spot light...I mean I wouldn't have complained but I most likely would have had to calm other guests...from my awesomeness. Because I pretty sure I have that affect on people.

There are so many great things on amazon. Including these cat ears.

I dont' know who thinks of this stuff but I want to shake their hand. I am not sure how many friends I would make wearing them-ok actually I can-THOUSANDS!-but for real wut? (I say wut not what because it makes me sound smarter by the way).

Have you seen "THE OTHER WOMAN"? There is some great, great comedic scenes in that movie but one of my favorites is when Kate-the main character is sitting on her bed, wearing her wedding gown and veil and crying to herself. Her make up is smeared and she is commiserating with comfort food.

I feel like this scene could easily get played out at my house this winter. When the kids are at school I sit on my bed with my newly-super cool-cat ears and coca cola and gummi bears and cry to myself about whatever it is I felt like crying about. And knowing me in the winter-and being a California spoiled brat I would  have soooo much inspiration like:

Hot chocolate does not help me get my BMI to a healthier number (I can picture the cat ears down turned)

The wire in my over the shoulder boulder holder started poking out ( at which point I would drape myself in my Betsy Johnson half coat-drape because I bought it about a couple "D' sizes ago and it would no no longer button)

Despite my best efforts I will not sound like my favorite contestants on the voice (ears turn backwards and a growl  and hiss grows in my throat).

 I mean I could go on and on.....and I often do but I'll stop there for now.

My poor merswah has been so traumatized by my banter and scowl face toward cold weather that my sinical-ness (that is a real word now...so calm down squiggly red line!) has rubbed off into his brain. He has told me that anytime he hears anyone say "How much they love the fall" he thinks how much I don't like it.
And I have explained to him that in this high desert of U T A H fall is our winter in California so this isnt' real fall. Its fake California fall (yes I am obviously obnoxious).

He mentioned to me this afternoon that maybe we should try moving somewhere that was really bad so that we could come back and me be more grateful for  U T A H weather. Pfffft. I know it wasn't nice but I was like "Ummm...you still want to stay married right?" I can barely survive winter in  UTAH without excessive hissing and renting of clothing. Take me back east and I literally turn into a werewolf.

I would tear off my clothes (but keep on my pink high heels (that I would have recently bought to help myself feel better-because in this scenario I-as werewolf would at least have some class) and I would proceed to wander the woods marking my territory and dispensing all my knowledge the forest creatures who would then ask me where I was from and then feel so sympathetic for me that they would make me some homemade bread (although this might take awhile with their little paws and such) and tell me "oh poor thing, here have some chocolate).

And even though at times that social barrier electric fence in my head sometimes sputters and something pops out of my head that is more outlandish then normal I am grateufl to at least amuse myself in many un      desirable situations.

So if you are ever on the television and hear about an eccentric lady singing very bad opera outside her home in U T A H you can at least say "At least that isn't me" "That Mother is craaaazy!"

And sometimes just having something else that is a little more than what you are-makes you feel better about the person you are. Kind of like how I feel about robotic cat ears...and watching the show Fringe.

A big ol' ring

I got excellent advice from a person whom I love and Admire before I got married and engaged.
She counseled not to spend more than $1,000 on both of our wedding rings combined.

To a person in community college who made like $500 a month, lived at home and was lucky enough to have had a grandparent donate a car to our family (I was the 4th owner of this said car) that sounded like sound advice.

When I was asked by my love what I wanted for an engagement ring I was fairly specific. I wanted our birth stone (and the same month we would be married in). After I received a beautiful custom engagement ring that was sweetly inscribed we went shopping for our wedding bands together.

I fell in love with a 75% off clearance ring from a trunk sale at JCpenney and we found him a great ring at Macy's. I can't say we spent under 1k combined but we were pretty close. I never wanted a wedding set so my engagement ring was just for the engagement.

I loved my wedding ring and got lots of compliments on it. It was very thick and wide, with side diamonds. It was different and it fit my style.

So, when my barely 2 year old flushed it down the toilet one Saturday afternoon-and my husband-covered her little ears when I exclaimed "D*** it!" while I bawled a piece of me kind of got sucked otu. Losing an irreplacable ring sucks. Not only was it a sentimental item (Hello wedding ring) but it was the one thing I felt like I had that 1. Hadn't changed  and 2. That always fit me, despite getting big and pregnant then slim again, then chubby again. it always fit. I had lost or misplaced the ring many time previously. Even one time for a whole month  but I was never really worried about it-I knew I would find it. But as soon as I saw my ring missing from the desk I knew it was gone forever.

I have dabbled in other jewelry. I have bought a silver ring to wear on my finger. I have received really pretty rings for mother's day to try out as my new 'wedding' ring but nothing really sticks. I know it sounds so petty but I love the rings and they are fun-nicer than costume jewelry cost but nothing close to my awesomely lost ring that Dory now wears as a bracelet somewhere in Australia.

I look online sometimes at rings. I am sometimes horrified at how expensive they are-it was made clear early in our relationship that I either wanted a huge emerald cut diamond or something unique. It wasn't the cost that I wanted it was the look of the something I was going to get.

I couldn't imagine spending 5k or more on a ring. I would have rather had a car! Or down payment for a car. I didn't want my soon to be husband to go into debt to buy a ring (nor would he).

So after being married 10 years and rocking a semi naked finger for 3 years I continue to look at wedding rings. But I kind of feel the same way now about it as I did then-its so much money to just wear on your finger! I was reading an article about buying wedding rings and somewhere it says about spending 2 months salary on a ring-what the mother? Am I totally just out of perspective? Do most people do this?

And I think my quirky spending habits just inhibit me from knowing what maybe the average person spends money on. Ask me how much I am willing to spend  on

 lipstick: $35 (yes one tube)
A purse: $200+
Dinner out to eat: $50


A car which we use every day: No more than $14,000 which is a fairly cheap car

I am more willing to by the Cadillac of lipstick but the geo metro of cars. And I know money is a personal subject but I find it kind of baffling and at the same time intriguing how other people spend their money.
I kind of admire the person who buys a $30,000 car but is willing to eat rice and beans or doesn't go on vacation. I guess its always trade off's right?  I like my pricier accessories and will take the cheap car.

But sometimes I fantasize about myself tottling around in Louis Vuitton boots rocking a 4ct tiffany wedding ring just to see what it might be like and carpooling in my large infiniti suv with subwoofers (because I also am married to a rapper in my fantasy apparently). And because spending money is a perspective.

I  do feel like I have some pretty good checks and balances in my life. And I continually strive not to spend in a white trash sort of way (I have previously written about getting my nails done but still not replacing a window that had broke). Sometimes I don't' want to pay for dental work but I see a lovely piece of furniture and think "This a good price!". Its all a little askew at times. I mean really, teeth are more important than a car or furniture but I do try to make a conscious effort not to get too wrapped up in materials.

 I used to think that if someone had batteries at their house they were wealthy. That and name brand cereal, and if they ate at McDonald's-because eating at McDonald's to me when I was young was a luxury. And if they had internet. For real, my parents did not getting internet (cable at least) until just before I moved out of the house. No one had cell phones either.


I grew up in a modest home with two very hard working, determined parents who gave the great gift of work ethic. My dad didn't always like his job but he did it because he loved and wanted to take care of us. My mom didn't necessarily prefer to work but it provided some needed things for our family as well. And-although it is embarrassing-I once had someone whom I knew from student government in college ask me if my family was as prissy as I was. I wasn't sure what she meant by that but all I could reply was "No, I grew up in a family where money was tight but I was taken care of".

My mom is not materialistically prissy. My dad is far from prissy. They are some of the most dedicated people and home caretakers I have ever met (besides my grandparents who obviously passed this gene onto my mom).
I grew up in a home where the cars were always clean, my dad always manicured the lawns and washed the cars, dinner was always cleaned up right away and the home was spic and span.
My mom always took care of herself and did her hair and make up everyday and my father was always well groomed and freshly shaven. But I would never call them prissy.

I on the other hand have a tendency for prissy and am fairly sloppy. My home is usually in some sort of disarray and about twice a week I need to roam the house looking for a cup or fork I set down somewhere and forgot about.

I like the idea of always being up early, dressed and make upp-ed and hair done but frankly I don't really fit that bill.

My mom and dad both have modest rings and are fairly practical people. So even if I am sincerely tempted to buy that $300 beautiful Ella Moss sweater/poncho at Nordstrom I know that (and I never forget this) you don't take your treasures with you. Your home, dress, jewelry, shoes, car can't go with you to heaven.
But that being said....not having a large diamond, or really wedding ring, means that if I were to buy that beautiful sweater...there is a lot smaller chance that it would accidentally get snagged.

So, on my frumpy days when I wish I had a beautiful ring on my finger-something that feels all shiny and sparkly-that despite my chubbiness will still gleam and glow and fit-I need to remember these top 3 things

1. You don't' take your treasures with to heaven-or hell for that matter
2. Using a treadmill  for longer rather than spending money will help me feel better in the long term
and
3. Having a large ring will not make me happy...

......but having a large ring would make it more likely I could win a street fight...so...I shouldn't rule it out completely.

pSshhhhh.

Pffft...ffffffttt...pssssssshhhhh.
Oh man-one day I will have soundbites on my computer. I will also in this UFO type future get to spend my nights commenting on commerials. Like a mystery science theatre thing. Even if it wasn't like a real show it would be so, much fun.
I am an English Major's worst nightmare. I mean...well, me and Curious George-he might have me beat.
Either way, I love writing and I hate editing. That is the worst.
Its like making a beautiful, chocolate cake, so delicious lookin' (oh snap to you English comp teacher!) and then you sit down to eat it and you have someone oc'd ing on your eating. Barking things like: use a napkin! hold your fork right! don't drop crumbs!
The weather in this ol country state is chilly. I've seen people in snowish jackets and a man with hairy arms in cargo shorts, sandals and tank top. I myself am wearing my boots and a sweater (with my hairy arms covered).

Last week it got to the 90's and despite my scowling and hissing and renting of my coats the rain and clouds came to poop out their despair. OH San Diego!
This transitioning has been hard. Mostly because when the week is this weather its not like "oh we are having a cold spell" its like "dun dun dun!!!-Winter is coming all you MotherFathers" and then it does the big KISS tongue wag.

My new neighborhood is nice. Lots of smiling people. I think the size of houses (or amount of kids that are within them) keep a lot of the adults lurking in the kitchens of their home all day. From the porch out my back door I can see into about 8 different neighbor's backyards. And I am happy to announce that today, for the first time I saw an adult women in the backyard behind me. I know I've gabbbed about it before but you always see random kids running around, you can hear them crying, yelling, laughing etc but an adult is a rare occassion in this neighborhood (which still gives more credit to my suspicion of alien's running the neighborhood in child bodies). And I know the women who emerged from her home a few minutes ago was human because she was not smiling while she took out the trash. And human's know not to smile while taking out the trash.

I have a lot of people ask me how I am settling in. And I picture that much like a cat would wonks around in a small circle, sits down, readjusts, starts kneading, gets up again and finds a new spot to sit in. And then every now and then there is a breeze that cackles up the cat's fur and it has to readjust. That is how I feel. I don't know if I will ever be settled in but I think I can get comfortable enough. I wish settling was just hoping and praying-because I definitley do that-its I think more a feeling of contentment and I am not sure at this point if I will ever have that here.

I know, I know, besides all the grammatical errors I insist on having in my writing  and dramatic views about how I feel. I always think-well usually think-its best to be honest. I think that people at times are too selfish with their feelings. I think sometimes we as people are overprotective of our feelings. We don' want them to get hurt so we don't share them. But there is no such thing as a weak feeling. I definitley think people need to hone their feelings and how they react to them but I think that if we were more of a sharing community we would be more empathetic. And if we all did this I am pretty Sure God would then Say "awww look at all the nice people! Ok ok, everyday can be like San Diego and here's some chocolate cake".

And if God did that for me-I know he would get Curious George the desperate help he needs with his good English.

Vaseline

There is something very cool to me about running. Like if someone says they are a runner I kind of automatically  suspect they are a very determined and put together person.
Most runners I see...maybe I should say "have seen" (my neighborhood I see no runners, San Diego there were zillions...along with dog walkers...) but Most runners I see wear tightly fit athletic clothing.

I recently got a treadmill from amazon. It was a low priced one with good reviews and it was under 400 dollars. I was pretty excited because as a person who deals with depression and some anxiety and like many other people I have stresses in my life. I am not built for running but I do enjoy (when I acclimate to it) a nice thumping pace  where afterwards my body is tired and sweaty but it feels like my body moved and tired out from something "productive".

So anyways, my merswah put together the treadmill in the basement for me. It is positioned near a wall, where I hope to one day have television televised on a small tv. The first time I used it-I was not only ill prepared but forgot that if you haven't ran for 2-3 months your body is going to have to work up to it again. I was got so hot and sweaty and did mostly quick walking.

So, me being the thinker-decided that having a treadmill in the basement of my home was going to liberate me from the restraints of certain clothings that going to a public gym puts on you.
So, the next night  and with team effort I put on my sports bra and a pair of cut off sweat shorts-that I found on clearance at old navy- and trotted down to the treadmill to work out.

It was going to be freeing and cooler and I could just feel my hidden ab muscles flexing as I started to jog (aka 3.7 on my permanently inclined treadmill).

Something I didn't realize at the time, when I was putting on above pictured shorts is that when you wear shorts exposing flesh...that flesh rubs. And that rubbed flesh gets sore really fast.

I am not going to say chubby girls shouldn't wear shorts running but I will say that I should not be wearing shorts again while running unless I learn to walk/jog like a cowboy-all bowlegged.

And  when I am 80 and my diaper is full I might be more naturally inclined to jog 

$7.49 of shorts wasted. That could have bought me like 6 cokes at Mcdonald's or like.....1/4 tub of lipsitck from Chanel.

Oh well, you live you learn and then buy a bottle of vaseline (which I am hoping might make me run faster as well...kind of like how in National Lampoon Christmas Vacation the snow saucer gets all buffed  and waxed and zips around skidding around corners)....or I'll wear leggings.

Do not Covet

There was this time in Highschool where there was this girl. I didn't paticularly enjoy her company among other things. And I'll just say she had bad acne. She had it on her face, back, chest...you get the point. I remmeber gossipping to someone about the acne. That it was...ahem..."Gross and how I am glad I did not have that".
   Yes, being 30 now...heck even a few days afterward I felt bad about the judgy comment (its true genes have chubby and easy addictions but we dont' have really bad acne) But especially now being 30 and oh so much more reflective I don't' feel guilty but I still find it embarassing.
   Well, Heaven Knows how to teach me lessons because I swear to you just week afterwards I got fatty zits on my chest. Not like a forest of them but enough that I got the point!

   Since then I am still learning by experience and remind myself each time I get all preachy and judgy that it will happen to me. No matter what holy water I fling around the room or incense I burn. IF I judge I too will be judge or get the same fate.

    I wish to some extent this would happen to things you covet. I love fashion magazines. I love fashion, I love colors, I love make up, I love home decor. All things which are pretty much exterior.
   Now, I know better than to think my life is established on morals I see presented in magazines. I do not beileve my body should look like the body I see in  a magazine. I don't think my body should look any better than how I take care of it and how I am naturally shaped but sometimes I covet the ease of wearing certain styles.
     I started enjoying running (when I ran...ahem clarification: quickly walked with hobbit length legs out of breath). The part I hated about it wasnt' being winded, it was how putting on my sports bra was a two man effort. If I wanted those mothers to stay put they were squished down enough to touch my neck and the 5 hook masterpiece took a bit of effort to buckle. My husband has much  stronger fingers I think now because of this.
     I also, am curious about how someone so top heavy-as myself-has such little feet. Giving someone with short legs a large bust and tiny feet seems mean to scream "Be a full time homemaker not an athlete". I do not think my body was made for athleticism.
   If I was a cave person I would be the grandma stirring the porridge pot all day-or kicked out because I suck at being a nurse maid. That would have never happened. The nursemaid part didn't even work our for my own kids.
    Its kind of like how little men drive large monster trucks. Like someone is compensating for something? That is what it is like for me when I have a baby. Its all for show.
    There are a lot of things I covet. One, long strong legs of a person, Someone who thrives on a clean house but isn't a mental mess about it but it is highly motivated by extreme order, A person who exudes love-the person who-I know (because I am magic) will befriend even the squirreliest trolls and who never resents what they have been given. And yes, sometimes I do covet the length of the model in the magazine's body. Dont get me wrong. Being short has some advantages: I never worry about doorways, clearing light fixtures, my pants being too short....it was easier to find a man taller than me. But considering I have the body of an Italian grandma I tip toe to reach just about everything in my cupboards...(and I don't even have nice calves to prove it!)....I should be a lot better cook. Because I am pretty sure all Italian Grandmas are great cooks.

       So it seems Karma is more of if you judge someone watch out and if you covet something it just makes you unhappy. I am continually learning how to admire people more rather than wish I had what they had-if it be a soul type trait not an outside one. And after weaning off medications and gaining upwards of 20 lbs I have a lot more sympathy for others who have a hard time staying at a comfortable  and healthy BMI weight.

          I am definitely looking forward to the treadmill that is coming sometime in the next week! With winter getting closer and summer staying in San Diego (BOOHOOOHoo). I definitely will be using my hamster trail downstairs with my "Special" light (i.e. uv light for winter). And despite my past experience, I am trying extra hard this time around to be more cautious about the food choices I make. Because even if weaning off means I will gain weight (which I already have) it would be nice if it jiggled just a little less.

      I am grateful to have a body. A functioning body. I have my issues just like lots of people and I don't enjoy the swollenness I get on my right side but....I am capable of a lot (more with my special little compression sock). No teeth have fallen out, I have at least 5 eye lashes to put mascara on, and I don't have black arm hair. SO...life is good.

Cancer Survivors

I love seeing pink pigs at the fair. They smell terrible but they are cute. I have no desire to own one-and despite once desperatlely wanting a pet skunk because of their adorable faces I had the chance to pet a skunk pelt-and that my friends is not warm fuzzy-so I've moved on to just staring at my children and buying soft textiles and sheets and reminding my husband to put on lotion. Because that is what normal people do. Trade pet pigs and skunks for human things...right? right.

 I can definitley see a theme starting here on this blog. Is it too redundant to use the word depressed for everything? I think I use it a lot. Depressed and also the words- I LOVE IT!  This sounds very bipolar...which I am not (but I do love and admire people who are 'officially').

I didn't go with my family to church today. I have a gnarly cold/flu. And although yesterday I was feeling better today I woke up with it stuck in my head and chest.

So, since my brain is working....if somewhat foggy, I thought I would watch some "I'm a mormon" videos on Youtube. I really enjoy the videos. Besides being genuine it tells a story but in less than 10 minutes. Which is perfect for my a.d.d.-ness today (one reason why I can't go lay down and sleep).

Want to know a good decongester (no I am not writing Decongestant...pfft)? Watching "I'm a mormon" videos. Stuffed up noses? Watch some tearjearers and you will get cleaned out. Albeit-your nose will be raw and you will use all the 'good' toilet paper on your snuffer...but it helps.

This one especially touched my heart

When I was 15 my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. At the time, being a young teen I didn't quite understand the gravity of what that meant. I was scared but my mom was very brave. In my younger perspective it was hard for me to learn how to cope with that. My life pretty much went on fairly normally.
My older siblings weren't really around during this time period and I feel in some ways I was the keeper of these memories. I didn't have the same mom that I knew from before that time.

I understand better now how children are selfish. And how grateful I am that I could be selfish at that time because I had parents who took care of me, who provided a wonderful home. So when my mom was sick I felt guilty that I felt in many ways useless and being the more people pleaser that I am-I felt like I failed because I couldn't really help my mom feel better.

My sweet mom doesn't remember a lot during this period (things chemo will do for you!) I remember seeing her have all the emotions on the spectrum.

This last December my mom let us know that she had Breast Cancer again.It has been 15 years. It broke my heart. All those same feelings flooded back to me. I remember sitting in church months later (Feeling sorry for myself lol-literally-I know I can be very good at this) and it was Testimony meeting where members of the congregation can go up to the front and share their testimony and faith building experiences.

A woman whom I admire stood up at the front sharing her testimony and experience of being able to go to a Church Women's activity and how wonderful it was, and how she felt the spirit and she really needed it etc etc. And I was sitting there feeling so sad for myself. I had really wanted to go to the activity. Everyone I knew who could babysit was already going and my husband was traveling back to utah for work....again (a time which is really trying for me as a mom).

And this was not long after I found out about my mom's diagnosis and I felt so helpless. Like all those feelings I had as a young woman came flooding back.

It was overwhelming.

Months later my mom's hair is growing back, and she is remembering things again ( gone with chemo brain!).

And I know that her and my father had so much faith during this time. As a family we fasted and prayed and went to the Temple. I pleaded with my Father in Heaven for her. I know my parents had faith that they shared with me-because I did not have very much. I was terrified.

One of the mormon videos talks about being scared. And once the fear went away, everything became better. And I realize for me I am still scared mindless. Nothing else can happen to my family dang it!

When my mom was diagnosed we weren't' for sure moving back to Utah yet-I always had an inkling that my time in California was temporary and a blessing but that wasn't really quite sunk it yet.. It was a couple weeks later we decided that we needed to make the move for our family. I knew it was the right decision, but the decision nonetheless literally made my soul hurt.

I was scared I would be miserable forever, I was-am scared of being lonely, of hating the terrain and culture, not feeling like I fit in, not making friends, hating it here, of being mad at my husband because he has a life already here (having a career which started here and was built here and that he still has all those contacts and support networks for himself) and that I for the most part need to start over-I take my family with my kids and my adorable husband with me but thats it.

I was mad because I never wanted to live in Utah again-it was something that was truced on when we were married. It was our 5 year plan. I counted down all of those years until I could escape if you will- back to sunny California nearer to my family.

So despite knowing that this was an investment for the long term of our family it is so hard to see over the horizon. I hate the breakup of when you move. It is not possible to have the same contact as you did before you moved-and I understood this but it is still extremely hard.

Because we knew we were moving to  Utah we dropped out of the Adoption process in California. And this felt like a huge loss to me. For parents hoping to add to their family and investing time, concern and hope for 2 years it was like I lost the hope of that child. I know that we will add to our family again one day and I know God's timing is right and that we made the best decision for our family in the longterm but after having such an uphill battle with the process for so long its hard to let that go.

And maybe thats what it is. After holding onto something so tightly for so long its hard to let it go. Even if what is ahead of you is better for the long run (and isn't life really an eternal marathon?).

I still feel mad that my mom had cancer again. I feel angry at the doctors and at the world. I feel mad that she had to suffer again. There is still so much that can't be explained. A piece of your heart feels removed and lent when someone you loves suffers. Its not that the pain of the borrow is so harrowing its that they are suffering at all. I have faith in God. I know he answers prayers. I have been able to witness miracles. I know miracles are real. I know hardships really suck-the huge life changing ones and the ones that are just plain annoying (what do you mean we are our of m&m's!).

This past year has been extremely challenging, heart breaking, soul testing and has forced me to rely more heavily on my Father in Heaven and Savior. It has reminded me that so much doesn't matter. So many petty things don't matter. Oh heavens, I have so much experience with needing to shove my foot in my mouth and learning the 'hard way' with experience. I am often embarassed at my caddiness or short term perspective.

I like to joke that I no longer am embarrassed to wear tight jogging pants. Ya. I may not look like the vegan jogger who juices everyday and eats 'clean' but for the person behind me-it might be motivation to keep coming back! And it feels good to move your body without thigh chaffing.

So after being able to use a roll of tissue on my nose. After being able to mull and wallow and slop feelings all over a white digital page I feel a bit more secure. Much like a pig does once in the mud. Keeps the flies off a bit more, cools me down even though on the outside I might be a bit scroungy I  know that despite the layers of muck I am a perfectly squealy pink inside-I just might need hosing off before getting onto the carpet.

Not very optimistic

Today I have not been feeling very optimistic. That is the shorter term for depressed. Okay-its not really shorter-I made that up but I feel like "not optimisitic" is a cupcake sort of way of saying depressed.

Sometimes when I feel like this I wanted to be melodramatic and write about all the blah blah that happened in the day (really nuthi'n to even snuff about it was pretty normal) but dealing with lady business or as Phil would say "Monstration" doesn't help the "this is where I live now moment I got today"

Living in California isn't all moonshine and bikini parties at the beach. But it was basically for the last umm....forever I ever pictured living for the rest of my life.I felt like I was thriving there like. I had a lot of moments there that weren't perfect (obviously life isn't) but It was the first time in like years of being married and being a mom that I had it really figured out.

I know, I know, life changes etc etc but for whatever reason my brain is not made to live here. Someone asked me (on a visit to California for an awesome family reunion-yes 15 minutes from the beach) How was Utah? And I can honestly say "As expected" and I do not mean that in a dramatic way. I expected to be hard and it is....but I am looking for all the silver linings (actually it might be more accurate to say I am laying in the grass staring up at the sky yelling to it "send me some more silver linings dang it I'm running low!")

In my experience. People who have not dealt with depression or anxiety don't quite understand the courage it takes to continue to plan on being happy and working to find, create, share silver linings.
Just like I don't know what it would be like to be a natural born runner or someone who is convinced Werewolves live in their backyard...I have just not been in that boat.

But being prone to depression, being depressed or on the down and outs means that you have the opportunity to produce a lot of bravery. To be more courageous and to act better than you feel.

There is a lot of awesome advice out there. A lot of great books (and bad ones) and good therapists (and bad ones-i.e. if you find you are crying every time you go to see  therapist...might not be the best therapist-just my experience). Some of my favorite words of wisdom that have helped me are

1. Pray to God for peace and courage (and tell him you feel terrible and how hard it is-he loves and understands you-don't believe anyone who says different)

2. Give service to others. At a really hard point in my life (when I first felt depressed after many deep losses) my mom said "It sounds like you are thinking too much about yourself-get out there and do something for someone else. And service and helping others does help. It doesn't nullify your problems or losses but helps you heal a little easier. My sister told me during this time "It won't stop hurting it will just stop hurting less".
And this advice is awesome and helps but as a side note (I am full of these) this is not the best way to make friends always. Sometimes people we come and contact with and learn to love are those who need our help and aren't able to give back in the same way. Everything needs balance

3. Figure out what is fulfilling to you. Maybe you wont' figure it out for a long long long long time. Maybe on a bad day you need to just order in pizza watch a movie with the kids (if they will sit that long),  have a loud dance party, maybe yell into a pillow while you are by yourself or do staring contests with the cats (if you have cats instead of human children). There is always hope-even if you haven't seen or touched it yet. Nothing is worthless.

Depressing Dr. pepper

I am drinking Dr. Pepper for lunch.

I think there is some kind of cruel chemical that is put into water when school starts.
Monday-no school. Woke up to alarm, went walking, did some weights and came home before family was awake. no problem

Tuesday-First day of school and it was a bear to wake up

Wednesday-Worst than Tuesday. Woke up the kids in order to leave.

Maybe its just knowing that the next 9 months you are being scheduled and summer is a bit more free flow. Either way I am not a fan of this current situation.

Today I got to have a yummy breakfast with the lovely e and cousins. With my oldest now in school full day my day feels less hurried-so even though my body has been a bear to move in the morning the day is a lot more low key. My second will be starting kindergarten part day next week and matching playdates for her is a lot simpler she in general enjoys company as well and understand social cues a bit better.

I know its not a good day when for Lunch what I decide I want to have is a Dr. pepper. Not just because I hate Dr. Pepper but also because I kind of had sworn off coke....because besides being a smidge of a shopoholic I am a bit obsessive about eating. I go through phases of not being very hungry but eat to keep energy to be hungry all the time. And then especially around baby box madness I am an endless pit. And for someone who is not-how should I say this-athletic or in general slim.....it is not in my best interest to just eat all day-that is not good for anyone.

I know it is dependent on my mood as well but as I told my husband earlier this week "I knew I would be depressed with this move and it would be hard....but I was kind of hoping I would be depressed and lose my appetite....so at least I lost some weight as a consolation prize". He was not amused. But as usual I can laugh at my own jokes so it made my brain smile-even if he was not betwixed by my chubby funny girl charm.

Moving is lonely. I know from experience that usually good friends take time and that not to expect to make besties the minute you move in. Even if you are in fairly friendly neighborhood relationships just take time and with summer just getting over and school starting I know other moms are busy with their schedules.

Because I know I love to be around people I make it a point to get out and smile and talk with people and with not having a strong network in this new place  I have been making some attempts to get some forced socialization in-because I know I am happier this way.

I have applied to volunteer at the animal shelter and been looking into book clubs.

I just got an email this morning that unfortunately, the book club I had inquired about it is full-and it was a kind letter-it is a ginormous group.

 But then I think about my next steps. What if the humane society doens't want me? (I really just want to love on some cats and be with other people and I feel it shows how determined I am because most animal fanatics are borderline personalities-with the exception of some friends whom I love that I know-and taniaml fanatics tend to have different set of social skills).

So for plan C;
It sounds like I Just need to force others to socialize with me. If nothing is firmed up in a couple of weeks (there has to be other lonely souls out there who love company right?) It sounds like I need a few more volunteer applications (and no at this point I am not very interested in being involved in the PTA as unfortunate as that sounds)

However,I dont' feel like its always the best time when you are somewhat desperate for friendship to look for it (just like finding love when you are desperate you are willing to take what you can get in that department).

I will try to make all advertisements for friendship not sound creepy if it comes to plan R, S, or T-I promise. I really do not plan on making any people skin outfits ("it will put on the lotions!!")

There has to be someone out there who wants to come over and have me feed them Dr. Pepper for lunch-right? Right.

So, while I plot my next move to become engaged in this new rancid weather state I'll continue trying to curb my shopoholicism and do crafts and art at home with my 5 year old....with the occasional tript o Ikea for picture frames (they have to go somewhere right?)

My husband asked what I was going to do when I was all done decorating (the only thing right now I really am looking forward to) and I couldn't answer him but maybe what I should have said was "Learn how to make homemade Dr. pepper".