This Stuff Only Happens In Movies, I swear!

Monday. 

Never having been one of those people to bemoan Mondays, I now view it with dread.

This passed Monday, I got up and ready for work like usual. Having checked the weather, I was surprised to see the high for the day was supposed to be 82 degrees. Knowing it's usually a few degrees warmer than they say, I planned for 85 and decided to dig out my favorite summer dress; the $10 consignment dress.

Rushing off to my car, I realize, "It may be 85 later but it sure isn't that warm at 6am!" and then glance down to see I didn't wear my lacy white tank top under the dress. It was a little lower than I normally show but I don't have time to run back inside: ehh, I'll just pull it up a little.

I get my mocha frappe and off to work I go.

Only 2 patients into my schedule and then it happens.

FASHION FAUX PAS!

While placing some large heating pads on the table for a patient, *Doink* oh no! I realize the strap on my dress had ripped! The sweetheart neckline now flopped over on the right side and exposed half my bra! And it wasn't even a cute one, it was a maternity bra! *good grief*

Thankfully, my patient was standing behind me and didn't see. My mind is racing, "What do I do!! How do I hide this!! Quick, tuck it in your bra and pull the sweater a little closer!" I think I managed to get out of there pretty quickly without him noticing a thing.

So I call the massage therapist freaking out! She says, "Ok ok, I'll bring you a needle and thread and some safety pins." *Phew! Thank God! Wait! You're not gonna be here for another couple hours! OH NO!*

So I spend the next couple hours with my dress partially tucked into my bra and doing an awkward arm gesture thing to sort of hide it which I'm sure only made it more obvious. *Slap forehead here*

While I wait, I head to the back kitchen and eat my 3 hardboiled eggs for breakfast.

She shows up a little later bearing gifts and here I am, in the back therapy room where patients don't go, with the top of the dress around my waist, bra exposed, attempting to stitch the strap bc it was frayed. *God PLEASE just give me 10 solid minutes without any patients and no phone calls!*

I finally get the stupid thing stitched and now I'm struggling to figure out how to sew it back to the actual dress part, while it's still on my body, of course. Just then, I hear my boss exit an exam room, saying goodbye to a patient. *Oh God, what do I do?!* "Uhh, Dr. Nunno! I need some help in here!!" I'm sure I definitely sounded a bit frantic. She pokes her head around the corner and bless her heart, she didn't say a word about seeing her employee, bra exposed with a needle in one hand and dress in the other. With eyebrows raised, she says, "I'll be right there." and then turns to the patient saying, "Cristine needs a moment. She'll be right there."

So there we are. My boss is now helping me sew the strap back but the needle is too thick. She's grabbing it with her teeth and pulling it through. *Thank God I have a very good relationship with her. LOL*

"I'm just gonna do a quick stitch." "Just get me through the next hour, we are SOOO busy! Just get me through!" LOL It was makeshift but I was still thankful for it and I continued about the rest of my morning…

Until about 11:30am when I doubled over in pain! I had the most intense stomach cramps! I couldn't tell if I was going to poop or puke!

Yeah, so remember those eggs?? Turns out they were left out overnight. My husband had asked someone (who he thought was a reliable source), if they were still good. This person said, "Oh yeah, they're fine as long as they're cooked. It's raw eggs you don't want to leave out."

WRONG.

For the next 2 hours, I proceeded to have the worst, most explosive diarrhea ever. The massage therapist said I wasn't even pale, I was grey.

By 1:30-2pm, I was feeling better and continuing my day when all of a sudden, *DOINK* the strap gives out while I'm checking out a patient! Flap falls forward and exposes half my bra again. *How embarrassing*

The massage therapist helps me to jerry rig the flap part to my bra strap with a safety pin. *Ah, finally, at peace!* I was able to go about the rest of the day.

I decided to go get some organic ingredients to make myself cajun chicken pasta. Good ol' comfort food will fix this stressful day, for sure.

WRONG. 

While shopping in this ritzy organic food store, I keep noticing all the rich, snobby people there.
Doo Dee Doo Dee Doo, what the heck am I doing here, I am CLEARLY not their caliber. And there, in the checkout line full of brain surgeons, NASA scientists, and Reality TV stars… the pin pops out and stabs me right in the boob! I start to twitch almost uncontrollably and am trying to play this off cool. Soooo did not happen. Everyone stared and my insides are screaming, "JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!!"

Driving home, I'm practically shouting internally, "JUST GET ME THE FRIGG HOME!"

Laden with bags, stomping up to my condo in the drizzle rain, the door is locked. HUGE pet peeve of mine. You see I'm not home, leave the door unlocked for me bc chances are, I'm gonna have a ton of bags. So, there I struggle to open the door and finally get it.

Right then, my husband rounds the corner, "Hey Babe. How was your day?" Two steps in the door, I drop every single bag, *DOINK* just as the left strap gives out and the whole top to my dress falls down, completely exposing the maternity bra.

I rip the dress off right then and there, with a barbaric scream that would have rivaled that of the Middle Ages, throw it away from myself and stomp into the kitchen. I proceeded to make my cajun chicken pasta standing there in a granny bra and slip and let me tell you, IT FELT GOOD!!!

Inability To Hold It In Public

It never ceases to amaze me that I had a baby 15 months ago and I still can't hold it when I have to go to the bathroom! You'd think I was still pregnant or something! -.- Last Sunday was a prime example.

Prelude:
My little Lorenzo has been refusing sleep. He won't go to sleep until 9-11pm and wakes up screaming (like he's had a nightmare) between 3-5am. This particular early Sunday morning was no different. He screamed from 3-5am and didn't fall asleep until about 5:30am. Our alarm was going off by 8am for church. We had one service at 10am due to our Friend Day Picnic. We were still late because I refused to get out of bed. Hey, I was the only one who dealt with him that morning! I deserved to get some sleep, too! Needless to say, my husband dragged me out of bed, threatening to embarrass me to everyone at church. We made it to church, albeit 20 minutes late.


After church on Sunday, we went to the church picnic. I was starving and had to do the juggling act of taking turns eating and watching Lorenzo. It's no fun taking him anywhere anymore. NOT. A. SINGLE. SHRED. OF. FUN. Just sayin'.

When it was my turn to eat, I stuffed myself full of a hot dog, numerous amounts of chips and taco dip, salad, potato salad, and pasta salad. It's funny to see how people make the same dishes WAY differently. I was so full, I couldn't even eat any cookies or cupcakes.  


It was a stressful few hours of attempting to keep my kid from crawling on concrete, eating sticks and dirt, and watching him teeter precariously on the verge of smashing his 6 teeth on the ground! This is all while my husband is off playing baseball, basketball, and tennis, of course. -.- When I finally got a hold of my husband, we attempted to leave early to catch the end of an Old Car Show. Love me some vintage cars. Oh the nostalgia! I swear, I'm born in the wrong era. Most of the cars had left because there was only about a half hour left of the show and Lorenzo had just fallen asleep. It wasn't worth the risk of waking him up and dealing with his crabby patty butt afterwards so we left. 


On the way home, I decided to make my weekly stop at my favorite consignment shop. It's this quaint little cottage in the middle of a busy shopping and business area. Anthony decided to wait in the car while little Prince Whines A-Lot slept. 


I made my way in and saw the owner for the first time, a pretty young woman just a few years older than myself. Normally on Sundays, I see her boyfriend working there. I say hi and chat a minute or two with her and then ask about the Superyard XT extensions gates out front. Once I haggle a lower price, I tell her I want it and will proceed with my browsing. She's very agreeable and right as she's nodding her agreement, I feel IT. That horrible, lowering sensation when you feel all the contents of your stomach drop right into your bowel. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I had to poop and I just walked into the store.


I calmly walk to the dresses and whip them from one of the rack to the other as I keep telling myself, "I can hold it, I can hold it, I can hold it." I really couldn't and I think my movements were becoming jerky as a result. 


I walk to the other side of the little cottage to the skirt and tops and find about 8 different items I like. I have to try them on because I don't want to buy them and find they don't fit. I walk over to her to ask for the fitting room to be opened and I assume "The Stance." You know, legs together, feet in a V, butt cheeks clenched as tight as possible. The fitting room isn't an actual room. It's the curtains drawn kind. Once I get the curtains closed, I pray she's gone, and rip my clothes off to try these clothes on as fast as possible. There's no bathroom in this place! If there was, I couldn't use it because I'd stink it right up and she'd know it was me! This consignment shop sells high end designer brands like Burberry, Dolce and Gabbana, and Louis Vuitton! I can't poop in this place! It's bad enough I'm polluting the air!! 


By this time, I've got the raunchy farts because I'm so close to going! I'm praying she doesn't come anywhere near the fitting rooms! The sulphuric fumes were enough to singe your eyebrows! I barely get a skirt and a top on and rip them off, throwing on my clothes. I barely made it out with my fly zipped! 


I awkwardly walk to the checkout desk and tell her, "I'm so sorry, I had to leave my stuff in the fitting room. My phone is buzzing off the hook, I think my husband wants to go because the baby is fussing." I'm praying to God she doesn't notice that I've broken out in cold sweats! I tell her, "I'm gonna have to come back another time because I really liked those items and would like to try them on. I'll get this skirt and top but I'll have to leave the gate extensions for another time, as well." She looks oh so surprised and says she needs to come out to the car with me because she already had Anthony load it into the car! 
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! 

I pay and follow her out to the car, waddling quite awkwardly behind her. Anthony is looking up from the car, giving me the strangest expression. I tell him to give the gate back, that I'd get it another time, and he says, "Why?" FOR GOODNESS SAKE! Don't question me NOW! Just go with whatever I say!!  By now, Pretty Consignment Owner is looking back and forth between us because she knew something was up. "Anthony, I'll just come back another time. I thought you didn't want the gate and you said Lorenzo was fussing." We all look at Lorenzo who is sitting calmly in his seat, sucking his 2 fingers, and he chooses that exact moment to smile at us. COME ON, KID NOW IS THE TIME TO MAKE SOME NOISE!! Anthony gives the gate back and looks just as confused as Pretty Consignment Owner. 


Once she walked back, I jump into the car and start shouting, "TAKE ME TO WAL-MART NOW!! GO, GO, GO!! I'VE GOTTA GO!!!!!" Anthony is so confused, "What? Are you ok?" I'm clutching the door, cold sweats all over my face, turning a little pale, "JUST GO!! I'VE GOT TO POOP!! HURRY!! I'M GONNA POOP MY PANTS!!!" Leaving the cottage house, we had to cross 4 lanes to go to 
Wal-Mart and Anthony's waiting for a break in traffic. I'm yelling, "GO, GO, GO! YOU CAN MAKE IT!! JUST CUT ACROSS IN FRONT OF THESE PEOPLE!!! HURRY UP!! IT'S COMING, IT'S COMING!! " 


We finally get into the parking lot and Anthony is giving me directions to the bathroom because this Wal-Mart doesn't have the bathrooms right when you walk in. I'm shouting for him to drop me off at the door and then shouting "THIS ISN'T CLOSE ENOUGH!!" All the while Anthony says, "Jeez, you stink."  


Once I get to the door, I run out of the car and into the store, weaving in and out of people and their carts, all the while praying to God that the stall would be clean! I bust into the bathroom, seeing I'm the only one in there, and race to a stall, unzipping all the way. I barely had time to rip my skirt down and throw myself onto the seat. Thank God, I made it!! Right before a ton of women walked in, too.

I wash my hands and calmly leave the store. Once in the car, Anthony kept asking if I was alright. He thought I was sick with a stomach bug or something. Very non-chalantly, "No, I just had to poop." He looks at me incredulously, "What?! That's IT??!! I thought you were dying or something! Well, do you want to go back to the consignment shop then?" "NOOOOOOOO!! She'll definitely think I'm weird then! And I'm not telling her I had to leave to poop!!"

Oh the days of Singlemotherhood

My husband had to go to a mandatory work training conference thing. It happens once a year, every year. With all the busy-ness and craziness that is my schedule, I forgot that it was coming up. He says to me, "Don't forget, I'm leaving for Springfield on Tuesday, you'll have Lorenzo ALL DAY and you need to bring him to daycare on Wednesday. I should be back in time Wednesday night to pick him up." Oh I forgot alright and let's just say, things did not go well.

Monday I worked a long day as usual and got home late. The plan was for Lorenzo to be asleep by the time I got home so we could eat dinner together (which never happens, even when it's super late) and cuddle up with a movie (something else that never happens). When I got home, it was nearly 9pm and my little man (almost 15 months old) is wide awake and raring to go! I look at my husband, "So much for being asleep by the time I got home!" That little snot refused to go to sleep until after 11pm!! My husband is practically freaking out because he had to be up at 4am! By the time Lorenzo went to bed, it was too late to do anything and we were both tired. I was pretty disappointed because things had been so crazy busy for me that even though we live in the same house, we operate in different time zones and schedules. My husband even came to my work that day to install Wi-Fi for us and decided to treat me to lunch. It was a flop because the Subway we went to was IN A GAS STATION without seating and we were the 17th and 18th people in line! We waited 20 minutes just to get our subs and then the dude at checkout didn't know how to ring up a BOGO coupon. COME ON! So, we parted ways with him having to scarf his lunch on the way to work, rushing into a meeting, and me taking mine back to work with only 10 minutes to spare before my next patient. 


Tuesday, Lorenzo seemed to be happy. He woke up and played in his crib for a little while before getting fussy. He got his bottle, played a little while, ate some breakfast, played some more, ate some lunch, and then OH MY GOD it was nap time. My child usually does pretty well with the whole sleeping and nap thing. Not that day! He was possessed by some brat who refused sleep! I tried all the conventional methods of rocking, cradling, bouncing, laying, nothing worked. Finally, I had to dump him in his crib and walk away. Hearing him screaming, I made the executive decision to call and reschedule an appointment I had at 4pm. I knew Lorenzo would either be super cranky or he'd be into everything and I wouldn't be able to concentrate at all. He cried for nearly 20 minutes before falling asleep.

Tuesday night hits and my dear Lorenzo is again refusing sleep! He's the type of baby who is in bed between 6:30-7:30pm and anything after that is way too late. It's now 8pm and he's still up! I catch him rubbing his eyes a few times so I knew he was sleepy but he wouldn't go down! Every time I put him near the crib, he'd freak out. Knowing I had to be up by 5:30am, I again dumped him in the crib and walked away. He screamed at the top of his lungs for 45 minutes before collapsing in exhaustion! I was so worried that he'd be hoarse the next day! I don't sleep very well without Anthony so I ended up staying up until 1am and then tossed and turned all night! I heard Lorenzo getting up every few hours because he'd take a rattle and run it across the crib rails like a jailer.    -.-

Wednesday, don't ask me what I was thinking every time my alarm went off at 5am, 5:15, 5:30, 5:45, 6am, and 6:15! I kept thinking, I have time, I have time. Oh no I didn't!! Lorenzo woke up at 5:50am and fussed around. I jumped outta bed, running into the shower at 6:15 but then got in there and took the time to shave my pits and legs?? What was I thinking! This wasn't a leisure shower! Wash the privates and get out!! 
I run out the bathroom in a towel and grab a bottle out of the fridge. I give it to him, he shuts up, so I run to get dressed and do my hair. After throwing on a summer dress and tossing my hair up, I realize, I don't have time to walk the dog since the baby is up. I put Armani out on the porch, he decides to be prissy and not go, while I look at the clock 6:43am!! OH MY GOD I have to go! I should have left at 6:40 to be at daycare by 6:50 so I can drop him off, say hi to the director, and merrily be on my way, with plenty of time to stop and get my mocha frappe. That didn't happen. Crap! I don't have any lunch! After scrounging around the fridge, I grab some left over buffalo chicken wings, some carrots, hummus, and a little bit of raspberry danish. Sucky lunch in comparison to the feasts I normally bring. I work 12 hour days for the most part so I bring A LOT of food. This was sucky, indeed.


Of all things the daycare needed, jars of stage 3 fruit weighed down the daycare bag. I had that, my work bag, my big reusable insulated lunch bag, some bags to return to the store, and Lorenzo. I had to set it all down to put Armani in his crate, pick them all back up, and then awkwardly toddle to the car. Lorenzo clearly wanted to get down to walk and explore but I didn't have time for that so I carried his 20lb toosh. I'm positive I pulled a muscle. As I leave the garage area, I slam on the breaks and hit reverse. I forgot his bottles and sippy cup in the fridge so I had to jog through my condo community, back into the house, and back. My attempt to speed to the daycare, didn't work because there were cars everywhere, and slow ones at that! I finally get there and pull up behind the mother of twins. She brings one in and then comes out to get the other and any paraphernalia. Normally, I would have offered to help. Not today. I grab the bag and get Lorenzo. I should just scoop him up and run him in but he should practice walking and the people at daycare don't normally see me drop him off (Anthony has more time than I do in the mornings so he drops him off and picks him up because I work late) so they're gonna want to talk and shoot the breeze. I don't want to look rude but I am on a time crunch. A glance at the clock tells me I have 2.5 minutes to shoot the breeze. So, I set Lorenzo on the ground, offer my pointer finger which he dutifully grabs, and off we go. He looks down and looks back up at me like, "OH MY GOD Mama! It's grass! And dirt! And wood chips!!" He wants to touch them all and I'm saying NO! and dragging him along. (Yes, I looked like THAT type of parent.) So, he's stretching out one leg to try to touch the wood chips and I drag him, "Come On! Lorenzo, NO!" I breeze him into the daycare while the director is speaking with Mom of Twins. Mom of Twins exclaims, "**GASP!** You're walking?!" I laughed something unintelligible and look at the director. She says, "Come on Boyfriend, Mom's gotta get to work! How are you Cristine?" and then she gives me a smirky look. I tell her I'm frazzled, I'm probably gonna be late or gonna have to sacrifice my frappe and today's the day I need it! 


Turns out, she was giving me a smirky look because my summer dress was unbuttoned way down passed my chest!! My boobs and bra were totally hanging out for the world to see!! Red faced, I told them about jogging through my condo community when I forgot the bottles. (Full of old people who know me because of the baby, no less! "The young girl with the baby, you know, in #47, went jogging passed the window this morning! Her whole bosom and brassiere were flailing in the wind, for the whole world to see! Didn't she realize she was giving us a peep show?!")  Everyone got a good laugh, I'm sure. I made it to work on time, albeit without my mocha frappe. I could have used it too, seeing how I was grumpy the whole morning. My grumpiness (and probably my lack of sleep) caused a raging headache by lunch time. 


Needless to say, it was a LONG day but at least I managed to keep my bosoms and brassiere from showing the rest of the time. 

Things that DO and DON'T make my world go round

Things that make my world go round:

~Having an underwear drawer containing more than a month and a half's worth of clean underwear!! Yess to only doing my laundry once a month! 


~Listening to Elvis Duran and the Morning Show's Phone Tap on the way to work in the morning.

~Starting my work days out with a medium mocha frappe with chocolate, no whip cream.

~Having the guys at McDonalds greet me by name and hand me my frappe made exactly to my liking before I even get to say, "Morning!"

~One of my patients at work (who is a businessman and runs his own organic farm on the side) comes in with a carton full of organic eggs for me saying, "Cristine, I had picked these, hand washed them, and hand package these myself, just for you." :) I told him that was the sweetest thing anyones ever done for me. I smiled for the rest of the day. :)


~Buying something on sale WITH A COUPON and only paying a few cents afterwards!! Oh yeah baby!!

~When friends and even the patients at work take notice of the baby belly roll going down (ever so slightly), when I wear a new outfit, or take extra care with my hair. :)

~Someone unexpectedly comes up to me to tell me they noticed how hard I've been working on something or what a good job I did on something.

~Walking into a clean kitchen knowing I can cook and bake until my hearts desire!

~Compliments on my cooking and baking.

~A stranger offering to help me with the groceries with or without Lorenzo.

~The silky smooth feeling of just shaved legs on clean sheets.

~The clean smell of laundry detergent and softener on clean clothes.

~Being treated to eating out.

~Incredibly nice waiters/waitresses who refill your drinks without having to be asked and are friendly. I've been known to tip said waiters/waitresses very very well.

~Finding awesome things for the baby or my kitchen from my local Freecycle groups.

~Helping an elderly person carry groceries, park their car, walk up stairs, or running their errand for them. Too many times people are impatient with older people. That person is from a generation far greater than our own, was taught values and integrity lacking in todays youth, and has lived through some of the hardest times our country has ever faced. Have a little respect and show them not all is lost in today's young people! 


~Saying "Ma'am" and "Sir" when I speak with people older than myself.

~Having EXACT CHANGE when cash for something. I never carry cash. So when I do and have exact change, it's a big deal. ;)


~Finding a great item at a consignment shop for just dollars what the retail stores are selling it for!!

~Seeing my friends blogs and Facebook status about me, whether by name or not. It bring a smile to my face and makes my heart feel warm and fuzzy. :)


~Writing little note cards to my friends and family and sending them in the mail. Snail mail?! Is that when your email just goes really slow? LOL


~Catching someone else doing something gross in public like picking their nose or farting. Hahahahaha


~Catching the person in the car next to me singing their heart out to the radio and then they look over and get that shocked, embarrassed look, then start singing to me. LOL


Things that DON'T make my world go round:


~Running into the bathroom to take a poop, throwing yourself onto the pot, going to wipe, and realizing the person before you didn't change the roll of toilet paper!! Now you have to go a jiggle, drip dry, and somehow shuffle with your pants around your ankles, to the cupboard to grab another roll, all without getting any drips on you or the floor.


~Finding some girl's nasty fake nail stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

~Having to clean the kitchen before I can cook and bake. Cleaning before I make a mess doesn't make sense to me.


~Speaking to rude customer service representatives on the phone.

~Having a sucky lunch at work.

~The dog pooping or peeing in the house ON PURPOSE.


~Seeing people talking on their cell phones and/or texting while they drive.

~People throwing out perfectly good, reusable items. Don't they know that's wasteful! It's going into a landfill and someone could use that! Hello, FREECYCLE! 


~Realizing I forgot my coupons when I make an impromptu trip to the store.

~After finally admitting you need to use a public restroom, checking all stalls to find some form of pee, poop, or unflushed toilets. Come On!! I've gotta go and now I have to stand here doing the potty dance while I clean up a toilet and wrap 8 layers on toilet paper on the lid. God knows I'm not putting MY butt on that NASTY thing! 

Perspective

When I'm at work, I'm ok. I feel more like myself than ever. My thoughts and emotions are clear. I'm not in a fog. I'm just ME. Most days, I feel really good at work. I don't feel like I'm wearing my thoughts and emotions on my face and "sleeve" so to speak. 

But when I am at home is when I'm at my worst. Sometimes the depression is so deep and dark. It follows me around like a cloud. Nothing can shake it. Not a shower. Not cleaning or baking. Not even my little baby's 14 month old antics. I noticed that when I have my friends over, I throw myself into the cleaning and cooking/baking. I tend to make extravagant meals and desserts for them so that I have something to concentrate on. When I don't have anything to concentrate on, the emptiness inside me grows stronger. The deep, dark, emptiness surrounds me. Sometimes it's different but the emotions that go with it are anger escalating to rage or numbness, joyless, purposeless. I end up walking around feeling like an empty shell of a person. It's not a pretty site to be around me when I feel like that. It's very hard for me to see passed myself and my feelings (or lack thereof) when I feel like that. 

It takes extreme effort for me to push passed that depression but I'm trying. 

Here is where I find my perspective.

Cherisse DesJardins Lipps. 

I know her from years of church camps and various other functions. Growing up, she was always considered the popular girl. I don't know if she knows that or thinks so but it's true. Everyone always loved her, myself included. I think it's because Cherisse never cared what's cool or in style or the "IT" thing to do or say; she always did what she liked regardless of what everyone else thought. That always made her stand out from the crowd of culture driven, peer pressured, pre-pubescent teens. She's even beautiful and has a beautiful voice! I personally loved it when she would sing specials with her brothers. When the DesJardins would get up there, your ears were in for a treat! 

Fast forward to adulthood and Cherisse got married to a man perfect for her in every way! She's graduated from college and teaching in a classroom. And then she gets diagnosed with a brain tumor. I, like everyone else, was shocked!! But she's so young! She's so beautiful! She's so popular and loved! Ladies and gentlemen, sickness and diseases are no respecter of persons. Sickness and diseases do not discriminate. Poor Cherisse has had over 2 brain tumor surgeries, more than a year trying to recover, daily seizures and medications  chemotherapy, radiation, she's been taken out of work, can't drive her own car, shaved her head, and has had to adjust to the changes in her everyday life that this has brought upon her. She has to learn a new "normal." And I'm positive that most days, it must suck.

If Cherisse can find the courage and strength to muster up a smile after all her treatments and being sick for so long, then I most certainly can snap out of my depression bubble and somehow grow some gonads and make it through my day.

Alice Pyne. 

I don't know her personally but have started reading her blog. She is a 15 year old girl diagnosed with terminally ill cancer. She says she wanted to create a bucket list and blog about it since she isn't winning her fight. 

How horrible to realize at 15 that your life will be cut shorter than you'd like. At 15, I was flirting with boys and worrying about my homework and test scores. I can't even imagine what her family and she must be going through right now. 

SNAP. OUT. OF. IT. CRISTINE.

I may be having a tough time but I'm physically fit and healthy. My family is physically fit and healthy. My husband and I both have good paying jobs in this terrible economy. While we have debt up the wahoo (thanks to his student loans and paying for our wedding all by ourselves), we are living in a beautiful gated condo community, have 2 cars that are in good and great condition, a home where we have what we need (ok so the bridal registry didn't completely render what we need to fully furnish our home but we make do), our 14 month old son is happy, healthy, and starting to walk and eat solid table foods, our Silky Terrier is annoying but lovable. All in all, I have no room to complain when clearly, others around me are going through a much harder time. 

It's quite selfish if you think about it. If you have your head so wrapped around your own problems and shoved sooo far up your you KNOW what that you can't see the struggles others around you are facing, you have missed your opportunity for healing through helping. Helping someone else during their own time of need (and momentarily putting yours on the back burner) will help to heal and strengthen you emotionally and in turn, you'll be better equipped to tackle your own difficulties! A new perspective and fresh outlook are the undoing for trials and tribulations! You'll get a great self esteem boost! You'll feel good about yourself, that in some small way you are making a difference! And maybe, just maybe, someone will come along and be your help through your struggle! 

Click HERE if you're interested in seeing the Facebook page set up for fundraising to help Cherisse with the growing medical expenses. I personally purchased the tote bags and I LOVE them! They have a zipper so my groceries don't fall out when I'm driving. :) 

Click HERE to read Alice's blog. She currently is not looking for donations but just readers to share her experience with. I believe she'd like to touch as many lives as she can, while she can.

Surviving the Penobscot: Swimming in Class V Rapids

**Disclaimer- As with all my blogs, everything stated are my own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. The following are my raw thoughts, feelings, and gut reactions; completely un-exaggerated. 

PROLOGUE:

I have a set group of friends dubbed the Tuesday Night Dinner Crew because we get together on Tuesday nights for dinner, rotating whose house we go to.  Most of the TND crew are all co-workers at the same job. The rest of us are the "guests" of said co-workers. We are all transplanted from Connecticut and being that we didn't know anyone else, we started having someone over for dinner, in hopes of making friends. That has grown into a large group of 12-14 on a weekly basis. It's a diverse crowd and I love them. :) Our weekly dinners are the highlight of my week! :) We don't just hang out on Tuesday nights. There have been some weeks that we've hung out 3 different times in one week.

A couple of people from TND decided to plan a white water rafting trip last year. We couldn't attend because we'd just had our baby but we planned on going the next time. A year later, and here we find ourselves preparing for rafting on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country; the Penobscot River in Maine. That river proudly boasts two Class V rapids. (For those that don't know what V stands for, it's roman numerals for 5.)

I was sooo excited the entire time of planning but found myself getting more and more nervous (ok, scared) as the time drew closer. By the morning of, I was kinda quiet, my stomach in knots, and slightly nauseated from the nerves. We were given our wet suits, helmets, life vests, paddles, a short survival technique tutorial and were on our way.

(Above picture: Our group of rafters just before we walked to the site. Not shown: Abbey while she takes the photo.)

(Above picture: my husband and I after getting into all our gear. I'm already a ball of nerves by this point.)

Once in the boat, we learned some basic rafting commands like All Ahead, All Back, Left Ahead, Left Back, Right Ahead, Right Back, Stop, and Dig.

The first rapid we encountered was a Class IV (4) waterfall that was a 13 foot drop. Our boat was 16 feet long so our guide said theoretically, we shouldn't tip.

NOT TRUE. 

We went down the rapid, heard the call for DIG and paddled our little hearts out. (Did I mention our boat was full of BEGINNERS??!!) From what our friends described, the back of the boat was sucked in, the front lifted up into the air, and row by row, the people fell back onto one another like a domino effect. We all fell into the waterfall. It was a minute or so before I popped up. I got caught in the current of the waterfall, tumbling around underwater. I thought I was going to run out of air before I popped up. Amazingly enough, I did remember to hold onto my paddle (dully instructed if you were to fall in). I popped up panicked but saw my friend's dad calmly floating on his back with his feet up and I remembered that's what I was told to do if I fell in. So we floated until our guide yelled for us to swim back to the boat. It's considered a Class IV (4) rapid without consequence. That means that there was calm enough water that we were able to swim back to the boat. Our guide told us the thought was to start out with that rapid so that if someone freaks out, they can take them right back to shore before the REAL rapids start. "Oh great, dump them in the waterfall and give them nightmares." as the rest of my crew laughs at my joke. "No Cristine, that's just you." my friend joked right back. Little did she know... but more about that later...

We were all cold from the wind chill and slightly scared, I think. I know I certainly was! The rapids seemed to build in intensity as we went and by the time lunch time came, I was terrified. I didn't know if I wanted to go for the second half of the rafting. My friend's dad and his dad's girlfriend (who have been rafting before) decided they were tired and didn't want to go on the second half. He's a big guy and was the lead on our boat! If he doesn't want to go, I shouldn't go! I'm about 110 pounds soaking wet!! He said they were tired and he knew they needed strength to paddle through those Class V rapids ("They're INN- TINSE!" he said in his Indiana drawl), plus he thought the boat would be dumped at least 2 more times and he didn't want to go "swimming" in that water! My husband and friend were telling me to stay on shore if I was doubting myself. My other friends were using the ever effective tactic of peer pressure, albeit lovingly; "You came all this way, You paid all that money, You can do it, You need about as much strength and endurance as you did to birth a baby." I looked right at the guide and loudly proclaimed: I will birth 15 babies right now, on the spot, if you can just promise me I won't fall out of the boat.

I debated right until the very last second.

I was gonna do it. My reasons for doing so weren't good at all but I was gonna do it.

My reasons:

• I did come all this way. 
• I did pay all this money. 
• I'll be mad at myself for chickening out if it really wasn't that bad. 
• I don't wanna be labeled as the chicken of the group. 
• If my 65 year old patient can go white water rafting with her grandkids, I can do it. 
• If she can do it, I can do it. 
• I'll feel really good about myself for overcoming my fear. 
• Anthony was going. I didn't want anything to happen to him and not know. 
• If I go, at least I'd be right there in the thick of things and know exactly what's going on with my husband. 

Like I said, stupid stupid reasons.

We're carrying the boat to the launch site and our guide says, "You guys have to paddle paddle paddle! If you all quit and don't paddle through the rapid, I AM F***ED!" Hmmm, nice. Great way to motivate the team. The water level was much higher and fiercer than normal. Our guide said it was 3200 cfs. I didn't know what that meant so he said 3200 cubic feet per second. Imagine 3200 basketballs being pelted at you all at once. That's the sheer force of the water.

The launch site was much more difficult than normal. Apparently there was more rushing water than usual so instead of having a practice period to go over all our commands again, we were immediately thrust into Class IV (4) rapids. If you knew me, you'd know I don't really swear. The only way I can think to describe exactly how I felt is to say

I was SCARED. OUT. OF. MY. MIND.

I was scared sh**less. I was terrified that the sheer force of the waves pounding us would be enough to knock us out of the boat. As soon as I had that thought, I grabbed the rope for support. We made it through those rapids with our guide cheering and shouting ALL AHEAD. I continued to paddle with everyone else even shouting his commands so everyone in front could hear. I was told that night, nobody in front could even hear what the guide was shouting. 

I had only been looking down while I paddle and I looked up. What lied ahead was a sight to see. 

ROARING RAPIDS. 

RUSHING WATER EVERY WHICH WAY. 

ROCKS JUTTING OUT EVERYWHERE.

ALL AHEAD! our guide shouts. DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG! I'm trying, I'm trying. I'm terrified! I see a huge wave coming. Forget this, I'm grabbing the rope!! 

(Above picture: I am in the back near the guide diving for the rope. As you can see, the force of the wave was enough to come and scoop out the 3 guys in front. The one in front of me is my husband Anthony.)

Little did I know that that wave had already taken out the first three people in our boat, two of whom were of "Leaders," meaning they were in front and we were supposed to follow them paddling. Before I could even get a good hold on that support rope, the right side of the boat lifted and the entire crew (minus the guide) was "dump trucked" into the Class V rapids. 

(Above picture: all of our feet sticking straight up in the air as we fell into the Class V rapids.)

The only other girl on the boat popped up close enough to be pulled in. When I popped up, the guide was shouting GRAB MY PADDLE! GRAB MY PADDLE! He knew how terrified I was. He put me in the back of the boat so he "could watch me" as he put it. As I frantically reached for his paddle, I kept thinking, he's pale and looks stricken. If HE looks like that, this MUST be bad. 

(Above picture: the guide extending his paddle as I frantically swim to reach it. I didn't know at the time that my husband and our friend were behind me.)

I grabbed the T shape of the paddle but didn't have a strong hold. We were separated by the many currents. I looked forward and saw a gigantic rock and thought, I'm going to slam into this rock and be crushed by the pounding water on my back. 

(Above picture: separated from the guide in a matter of seconds, I was thrown up against the rock. The picture was taken before my husband, our friend, and I got separated by the currents. Not shown: the guide blowing the emergency whistle)

I didn't slam into it too hard (thankfully) but the water did pound my back. I can't stay here. I didn't have a choice. The water rushed me away. I was pushed down by the current and hit so many rocks. SO. MANY. ROCKS. I finally popped up and you're first instinct is to tread water. You CAN'T tread water. There are too many currents and you'll be sucked back down again. You have to float on your back and attempt to keep your nose and toes above water. I saw bystanders on the shore watching us, I saw a professional photographer. I'm thinking HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! 

I remember thinking, "Jeez, all these people look the same: stricken. This must be bad." I hear a gurgling and someone gurgling my name, "CRIS *bluubbb gurrrgggggg*" I look to my left and there's my husband, drowning next to me, not even 3 feet away, reaching his arm to me. And I can't save him. I can't even save myself. Once you're dumped into the rapids, it's every man for himself. You can barely even attempt the few survival tactics they teach you, let alone try and save someone else. You'll end up killing both of you. 

I look and in front of me, not even 2 feet, maybe a little less, is shallow water right up on the shoreline. I can see the little rocks and pebbles and know that if I can just make it there, I'll be ok. I tried with all my might to swim to it but I was caught fighting against the currents. But if I can just make it to the shallow water, I'll be ok... The photographer is yelling at me, NO! Keep your feet up! FEET UP! Around the corner! Around the corner! What the hell do I care what's around the corner, SAVE ME NOW! 

Anthony and I didn't have a choice. The currents swept us up like ragdolls and slammed us into more rocks and between these two cliffs. Apparently this is what the photog meant by around the corner. The most beautiful sight I ever saw was the big yellow boats of the 4 or 5 other crews. Keegan, a guide on another boat, beamed me in the head with the saftey rope. It's a bag filled with about 70 feet of rope that comes out the further out it goes. It felt like simultaneously as I was pelted in the head with this bag, I was sucked under. I'm going to drown. I know it. I'm going to drown. My insides are screaming JUST LET ME FIND THE ROPE! PLEASE! 

Here I am, sucked under water with the sinking reality that I'm going to drown (pardon the pun) and I'm blindly feeling around for the rope. I GOT IT! I feel it tighten and I pop up! I was being pulled on my belly and basically being drown even more and I remember the training where they tell you to flip onto your back. As I flip onto my back, I see my husband come flailing into view. I try to extend my leg for him to grab, knowing in my subconscious that wouldn't work. Someone yells GRAB MY PADDLE and extends the wrong end of the paddle to him. Somehow he grabs it and holds on. We both get pulled into the boat, coughing up our lungs. Someone jokingly (stupidly) asks if we want to go back in and finish the tour. Anthony jumps up, pushing people in the raft out of his way, saying GET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE. He said a bunch of other things along the lines of this isn't fun, he almost drown, he never wants to go in the water again but I was still hacking up all the water so I didn't quite hear it all.

I sit up and ask WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS! Half of my friends were in my boat! Someone tells me the other girl in the boat is ok, I look and see her. Ok, she's ok. Where's everyone else??? And that's when I hear our two other guys are stuck on a rock. The guides were freaking out because they thought they were pinned between two rocks. Turns out they were just holding on for dear life! 

(Above picture: our two friends holding on for dear life to that rock.)

They ended up coming loose and being rescued. Hearing my crew was ok was such a relief! 

And that's when about 4 people got in my face and started questioning me. I don't know what you're saying, I don't care! I'm alive! I didn't drown! I feel like jelly! I'm shaking like a leaf! And then they start asking me about pain. Yes, my low back and hips hurt... Then they started freaking out about a possible spinal injury. I didn't think I had one but they were scaring me. They put a cervical collar on me, strapped me to a straight board (that hurt more than my back did!), and carried me through the woods like He-Men Barbarians. 

I WAS MORTIFIED!! I don't have a single shred of pride and dignity left. 

An awkward bus ride (where they put me on the board on top of the seats), an ambulance ride, an ER visit in which I had to argue with the nurses that they can strip me naked but NOT cut up my Under Armour shirt (it was expensive! Cut the rafting crap, I'm not paying a dime for that!), 260 x-rays, and 3 1/2 hours later, the Dr said I had a lower lumbar/thoracic strain. That means that in a normal person's spine, there is a nice, natural S curve. In me, once you hit about the low back all the way to the tail bone, it's as straight as a rod. The muscles reaction to the unnatural alignment is to tighten up to try and protect the vertebrae. So my muscles in my back and legs are spasming. That doesn't even count the sore ribs, shoulders, arms, and hands. Some of that is normal for rafting, not all of it though.

In the end, I survived, a little worse for wear, swam down Class V (5) rapids on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country, earned my stripes, got the t-shirt, and have a heck of a story to tell.

(Above picture: my friend's dad bought me this t-shirt saying "WARNING! Contents may shift during transport, North Country Rivers, Maine." I plan to draw 2 more stick figures on it to represent the rest of my crew.)

(Above picture: Our rafting group right before we departed Maine.)

Epilogue:

I don't feel as if we were adequately prepared for white water rafting. We were so naive in thinking it was just getting in a boat and paddling through waves. It is SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. It's falling out of the boat that is the most terrifying. You can't panic. You have to keep your cool otherwise you can't think clearly enough to remember the survival skills they taught you. 

Considering that half of our group was beginners, I personally don't think that choosing the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country was a wise idea. Even though the rafting company boasts no experience is needed and that anyone can raft, that's not wise. You learn to walk before you run. It only makes sense for beginners to work their way up to Class V rapids. Can you tell I wasn't the one who planned this trip? 

I'm positive that while the rest of my crew was scared, I am the only one who is still having residual issues about it. I'm having nightmares at night. The first few nights, I woke up thinking I was in the river drowning again. Now, it's like I know I'm going to have a nightmare so I don't sleep very soundly. I'm up almost every hour or two, getting out of bed. Last night, I woke up to my husband shaking me awake, raising his voice CRISTINE! Are you ok! CRISTINE you're hyperventilating! 

My husband is a very heavy sleeper so I can't believe that I was doing something so loudly that it woke him! 

I'm wondering if I would have had a different experience if I had gone rafting before I had Postpartum Depression. I really enjoyed thrill seeking, adrenaline pumping before I had my baby. And  I can't even take the shower water running over my face without my heart racing like I was in the river again! Add on the nightmares and I'm a shaking mess by morning! 

Anthony and I both agree, we would have had a much different experience if we had just stayed in the boat. It's a Catch 22 though. You have to paddle to get yourself out of the rapid otherwise you'll be sucked back in. But the sheer force of the waves coming in is enough toss you out of the boat. It's like a gigantic arm comes out of the water and scoops the crew into It's fist and drops you into the water. 

I'd raft on Class II and III rapids. That's a good place for beginners. But our friends want to go to a MORE difficult river next year. Unwise if there's such a large group of beginners again. But that's just my opinion. Anthony even says he'd raft again if he could just be promised that he wouldn't fall out of the boat. No one can guarantee that though. 

So what do I do? Make myself look like a sissy by voicing all my concerns? Surely, I'm the only one having issues like this. That runs the risk of being excluded from the trip next year. I definitely don't want that to happen. Keep it all pent up inside and risk that it gets worse? Don't say anything and go on a more dangerous river next year and possibly risk more injuries? I don't know thus I am sitting here blogging about it. 

Defining Moment In My Parenting

A couple weeks ago, my husband had to travel for a business trip. Being an IT professional for an insurance company, it's pretty rare that he has to travel. It was a voluntary IT conference that he researched and got permission to attend. All in all, sure it was a pretty sweet deal for him... not for me. It was great personal knowledge and growth as a techy geeky person, great professional growth as an IT professional, not great as a husband and father.

The reason I say that is because I work and don't "stay home" with our little 13 month old. I work Monday, Wednesday, Friday usually about 11-12 hour days. While I'm working, our son goes to daycare. So I'm thinking, Oh My Gosh, what am I going to do!

Besides freaking out about being by myself with Lorenzo and having absolutely no help or relief, I was freaking out due to the daycare's hours. Their hours are shorter than mine so getting my kid to and from there was going to be tricky.

Thankfully, we have an awesome set of friends in our Tuesday Night Dinner crew who picked him up for me and I just had to go to their house to get him. Phewww... what a load of my mind, let me tell you! Matt and Amanda are amazing! They even have a little boy a little older than Lorenzo so they got to play together. Lorenzo went home with them, ate his dinner, got a bath, changed into jammies, and played until I got there. All Mama had to do was literally pick him up out of the car seat and put him into his crib, thank God! So my worries about the picking him up thing were all put to ease. But that didn't solve dropping him off...

It takes me about 20 minutes to get to work from where I live. But if I leave at the wrong time, it could take me as long as an hour to drive the 5 miles to the highway on-ramp! So dropping Lorenzo off to daycare adds an extra 20 minutes to my commute. And that's not even factoring in any chit chat time with the director. I had to think this through... What was my game plan going to be?? After much thought, this is what I came up with.

5:00am- Alarm is going off
5:30am- Roll out of bed to shower
5:45am- Get ready for work
6:00am- Pack my lunch
6:15am- Gather work bag, lunch bag, diaper bag, daycare bag of stuff needed, and walk them to the care while I walk the dog
6:30am- Feed the dog, drink a glass of juice, change the baby
6:40am- Put the dog in the crate and leave

Before you even begin to wonder, yes, I most certainly DID stick to that rigid timeline and I wasn't late. And this doesn't even factor in all the prep work I did the night before to make sure everything was ready. I had to gather everything the daycare needed like wipes, diapers, clothes, etc, make the bottles, make my lunch, gather my stuff, etc. Doing all that made it so much easier to just grab everything I needed in the morning.

Well, I made it to the daycare by 6:55am, knowing I have to be on my way no later than 7:10am so I can still have time to get my usual morning Mocha Frappé from McDonalds, all the while wondering if they'll even let me drop him off 5 minutes before they technically open.

I pull up and see all the lights off. (What the heck, aren't they open at 7am?? They better be open at 7am! I have to be at work by 7:45am! I get Lorenzo, his stuff, and walk up to the doors. Definitely locked with lights off. Crap. What am I going to do?!)

As I turn around, someone drives up. A girl that I don't know and have never met comes up to me saying someone got stuck in traffic and something about a fire. Huh, what? I'm not listening because I'm too busy staring at your blonde and red hair mixture. She reaches for Lorenzo saying she'd take him and telling me to go because I'll be late. (I don't know you and you're taking my kid out of my arms... Yes, I WILL be late if I stay until someone I know shows up but still... I don't know you!!) I don't take Lorenzo to daycare usually either. (Maybe she's been working here and Anthony never told me. I don't want to say anything, I mean, it's pretty common knowledge that what gets said to Anthony doesn't make it to my ears... What do I do?!)

I'm having an internal battle. 

I tell her he hasn't eaten yet but has had a diaper change. She assures me the director is on her way, there was a fire on her street so she got caught in some traffic (Ohhh so THAT's what you were saying...), she repeats that I'm going to be late and that they will be fine.

As I drive away, I call Anthony and leave him a very indecisive voicemail about the occurrence. I make it to work feeling even more unsettled. I glance down at my dashboard and it's 48 degrees outside. I left my child with a stranger (to me), only wearing jeans and a long sleeve onesie with a blanket wrapped around him, without having been fed for the morning.

OH. MY. GOD. If Anthony had done that, I would have been REALLY upset with him. THAT is when I realized I made the wrong decision. I should have just stayed until someone I knew showed up. But I didn't want to be that parent that acted like I didn't trust them. I didn't want to be that parent all the workers roll their eyes at. I didn't want to be late to work.

I made it to work with my Frappé in hand, still feeling all out of sorts, had a ton of messages from the middle of the night, patients showed up before our office was even technically open. I was very busy and was absorbed in my own thoughts. Before I knew it, I had a very upset director on the phone with me, apologizing profusely, and nearly in tears. Lorenzo is her favorite baby in daycare. She was as upset as if it were her own son. I wasn't mad at her and completely understood the circumstances. I was mad at myself for doing something I wasn't comfortable with. I was angry that I succumbed to what was "socially acceptable" and what I thought was the "normal thing other parents do." Ladies and gentlemen, Mother Of The Year Award, right there! I felt as if I took 3 steps backward with my Postpartum Depression.

At the end of the day, I learned to go with my gut instinct. If I'm not comfortable with something concerning my child, I shouldn't and won't do it! It doesn't matter what other people think as long as I'm secure in the decisions I've made and my parenting choices! I have to own up to every decision I make, I want to be sure that I don't regret them and if that means being late to work and forgoing my Mocha Frappé to ensure my child's safety so be it. 

For Lorenzo

Even though I use Facebook and this blog as an outlet, I do not post some of the deepest darkest feelings I have. It's eating me up inside to not voice them. I thought if I could just write them down, I'd feel better. But I didn't want my innermost thoughts and feelings to be on some old legal pad.... and that's when my mind started brainstorming...

I went to Papyrus in the mall today. I looked over each and every journal they had. And I finally picked a very pretty glittery one with a beautifully colored hummingbird on it. I bought the journal ($20 for a friggen journal, are you kidding me?!) and some scented pens. (I have a MAJOR pen fetish!! I collect any and all pens. I've been known to take them from doctors offices and even from my family and friends.) These pens were scented on the outside. One was strawberry and the other bubblegum. They smell exactly like Bubbalicious Bubble Gum and make me crave a piece! :)

I walked to a seating area and I took out the strawberry pen and the journal. I stared at the beautiful cover and turned the pages. After a minute or so, I wrote in the front cover, "For my son Lorenzo. May you read this and find insight into your crazy, fun loving, emotional mother! I Love You With All My Heart! <3 Mama."

It took me a while to write down what I was thinking and feeling at that moment in time. I was extremely hurt and angry. Still am. It took everything in me not to let tears come to my eyes in public. I wrote about the stressful events that took place the past 2 days, vindictive words spoken, hurtful actions. I wrote how it all effected me with my PPD. I reassured my son that he did not cause me this PPD and that it is not a result of having him. I proudly proclaimed my love for my son and that he is the very best thing to have happened in my life!

I imagined in my mind, Lorenzo in his mid-twenties (like myself) reading this and finally understanding his crazy mother. I wrote that perhaps we can look at this 20 years from now and say look at what we've overcome. Perhaps we'll look at some entries and say look at that, knowing whatever it was got the best of us. I just want to be able to have something to look back at.

I'm keeping this secret from my husband. I don't want him to read it. It's personal. Something for my son and myself. He'd probably be mad at what I'm writing, never wanting to disclose all that info to our son. But I think he should know. I want him to know. It will help him understand us and our dynamic and relationship. He should know. He needs to know.

Self Esteem Boost

I feel compelled as a mother to encourage all the other mommies out there!


You are a beautiful, intelligent woman! It is time to stop looking and feeling like a crumpled and frumpled hot mess!!


It is about time to start doing things for yourself so you look AND feel good! Others may think you look great but if you don't appreciate yourself, it won't matter what they say. If everyone else around me says that I look good but I don't FEEL that way, it doesn't matter. All those wonderful compliments are falling on deaf ears.Because my attitude towards myself was very poor, everyone else around me stopped trying to reassure and compliment me because it didn't work. 


When YOU love yourself, it shows! Everyone else will notice and love you FOR YOU even more!

For me, it's covering up the really bad acne scars, wearing flattering clothing (to hide the baby roll), doing my hair nice, smelling pretty, and shedding a couple pounds to try and flatten that baby roll. Because when I feel pretty, I can conquer the world!!

I know exactly where you're at Mama.

Do whatever it is that you need to do to appreciate yourself! Whether it's doing your hair nicely, wearing clothes that flatter the post baby body, buying a push up bra (Say "Hello" to the girls because it's been a while since you've last seen them there!), losing a few pounds, flattening that baby roll with diet and/or exercising, getting more sleep, whitening or straightening your teeth, getting a massage or mani/pedi; whatever it is: JUST GO DO IT! 


This isn't go to be easy but it'll be well worth it!

You'll have to save up some extra cash so you can go shopping for some post baby clothes. Whether you're in a transition phase after having baby or even if it's been a year or more, you'll need clothes that properly fit your new baby bearing body. You're a mom now. It doesn't mean that you can dress like a teenager. You need sophisticated and properly fitting clothes. You can still be sexy without having to flaunt those big nursing jugs of yours. There's a difference between showing a little cleavage and baring those breasts to the world! Let's try to keep them covered. Wear something that's trimming across the midsection and pants and skirts that fit your new wider hips. It's the wrong size if it cuts into you too deeply. Muffin tops are unattractive and scream to the world that you're holding onto your youth in a negative way!

Make the extra effort to get up early to shower and get ready while everyone else is still sleeping. You'll have peace and quiet. Go get a cup of coffee or mocha frappe and take the time to invest in your appearance for today. Don't just throw that wet hair up in a messy bun! Take the time to blow dry it today. Scrunch it or straighten it. Maybe twist some of it back off your face. How about a nice curly bun?

Once your hair is done, go to your closet and pick out some of those nice post baby flattering clothes we talked about. Don't forget the personal hygiene products! Glob on the lotion and get that skin smooth as a baby's bottom! Don't forget the deodorant and perfume! Now that you're dressed with your hair down, how about some accessories? A simple watch, bracelet, necklace, headband can be all you need to make your outfit feel complete. Maybe a hair accessory? Or painting your nails and toes could be all you need to complete your look. Perhaps you wear makeup. If you do, allow plenty of time in your schedule to be able to shower, dress, do your hair, and apply the makeup. You don't want to feel rushed during this time.

Now, don't you feel confidant? You look in the mirror and say, "I can do this! I am prepared! I can conquer the world!!" Looking the part is half the battle and you are already there Mama!! It took some time but it is WORTH every minute when you look in the mirror at the finished product! Looking good makes you FEEL good which raises your confidence level!!

If you happen to be reading this and you are not a mother but a spouse or significant other to a Mama (especially one who has PPD) then this is what you absolutely NEED to know: All of the compliments that you've been giving have not been taken in. The "Honey, you look good, I like your curves, You're beautiful the way you are, Our baby made you that way, you should be proud" and all the other things like that, were not being taken as the compliment that you meant them. This is not what the Mama of your child(ren) needs. Instead, trying telling her how important it is to you how she FEELS about the way she looks! Reassure her that you want her to do whatever it is that she needs to do in order to feel comfortable with her body and appearance. Tell her you love her body but love HER more! Tell her you want HER to be happy with who she is so YOU as a couple can be happy!

Expressing Myself is MY Prerogative!

I am extremely angry right now.

It is MY prerogative and mine alone to choose if and how I want to express myself. If you don't want an insight into what I think, how I feel, my beliefs or lack thereof than don't read my Facebook status or my blog. Those two forms of social media are mine. I can say what I want without care of what others may think.

Some people choose to express themselves in other ways. Some dive into music or the arts. For some, it's a hobby. Some cook, bake, or clean. Some shave off the entire eyebrows. Now THAT is extreme. But for me, I use Facebook and my blog as my outlet. I certainly don't rant the way I sometimes want to. But I could if I so chose.

If you feel the need to have your own thoughts and opinions voiced, make your own Facebook account and blog. You can say what you there. If you find that you are afraid to own up to any of your thoughts, feelings, opinions, and rants than I would highly suggest posting anonymously HERE, HERE, HERE , or HERE .

Point blank: I DO NOT post hurtful or mean things (even though I may want to at times.) Facebook and my blog are MY outlets. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you don't have anything complimentary to say about my Facebook status, pics, or blogs: don't say it. Chances are I'll ream you out and delete your post. In extreme cases, I will delete people from my Facebook and block if necessary. Get your own space and get off mine.

To MILF or Not To MILF, that is the question.

I am at a stage or phase in my life where the things I'm struggling with (as far as PPD are concerned) are changing. Before it was constant mood swings and angry outbursts (mostly directed towards my husband). Now, I find that my PPD tends to be different. Sure, I'm still too quick to anger but it isn't nearly as bad as it was. I think I'm making some progress there. About time, too! It's been over a year! But I am struggling with self esteem issues.

If you are like me, you are likely experiencing absolutely no sexiness. ZERO. Not even a single shred of sexy.

For the past year, I haven't felt the least bit attractive. I've hated my body and the changes pregnancy brought about. I didn't "embrace" my new body, as everyone else told me to… In fact, I became more self conscious as an adult than I ever was as a teen.

As a teen, I was extremely thin and petite. Almost too thin. If I became sick, I'd lose weight from not being able to eat and having an over-active metabolism. It took me 6 months to gain back 10 pounds I lost from being sick for a week once. I was 17 then. I had VERY clear skin. Never had more than 1 pimple at a time and those were occasional. White, naturally straight teeth. Nice, long, manageable, super curly hair (thanks to a phenomenal perm!).

As an adult, I developed pregnancy induced acne in my third trimester with my son. It didn't go away until he was 6 months old and has left horrible scars. My metabolism has slowed to almost non-existent. I can't shake the last 6 pounds of baby weight which have conveniently taken up residence in my belly so I now look like I have a tire around me. My hair, oddly enough, lost it's life after I had my baby. The hormones didn't effect me during pregnancy, as with most women. For me, they wreaked havoc on my hair's length, manageability, texture, and moisture level after I had him. My skin and hair are now oily where before they tended to be more on the dry side. And let's not talk about the effect of nursing your baby. -.-

As you can see, I've been quite self conscious of my body and appearance for the last year.

NO MOREEEEE!!

For the last month or so, I've made it my mission to "Bring My Sexy Back!" ;) I have been making an effort in doing my hair and dressing nicely for work. I used to do fun hairstyles and dress up everyday to work. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things now. My thinking is that if I put extra effort into my appearance then I will feel good about myself. Revelation to me, I know, and I'm sure it's not for most of you. I realized that doing a nice hairstyle didn't mean anything if I was still in bummy clothes. So, 2/3 of my work week, I've been making an extra effort. I've even been so determined that I squeezed myself into some outfits that might not fit the same way as they did before baby. LOL It works, though. When I feel good about myself, my confidence level rises and I can conquer the world! I am invincible! I am a MAMA! I am one HOTT Mama!! ;)

I saw Ryan Seacrest talking about this book called, "Got MILF- The Modern Mom's Guide to Feeling Fabulous, Looking Great, and Rocking a Minivan" by Sarah Maizes. I read reviews and it sounded right up my ally. So I ordered it off Amazon. It's very light hearted and humorous about the daily struggles of a mama and trying to balance life while still maintaining her individuality. It helps you find ways to be a hott mom without being a trashy. Click HERE to read the blog I read. It sure convinced me.

If you don't know what a MILF is then I'm not explaining it to you. This book takes that derogatory term and puts a spin on it! Even making it a compliment to be called one! The very idea that I would be called  a MILF and found attractive BECAUSE I had a child and not DESPITE I had a child seemed preposterous to me! But that's exactly what it's about: finding your sexy, adjusting to the new you while not losing the old you, and feeling comfortable with who the new you is! I would highly recommend it to all my mommy friends!!

Birthday Party from Hell

My little baby has turned a year old as of April 9th, 2011! Where the heck a year has gone! In some ways, I feel as if I've made tremendous strides and in others, I find myself lacking quite a bit. In the great spectrum of time, a year is a second. So I've got many more "seconds" to keep trying.

Below is a description of the days preceding his 1st Birthday Party. I'm sure all you mommies out there can empathize greatly with me!

1 month before the party: Better send out a guest list email invite thing since I know I won't have time to hand write cute little invitations. Result: my husband CHANGED my guest list (including people I didn't know and even people I had no desire to come!), changed the time frame, changed the format and wording, and made it a dumb video invite thing that was sent out to everyone 15 times so it looked like SPAM!

3 weeks before the party: I'd better talk to my friend about helping me make a fondant cake because I'm making everything else... I'll need the help and he'll most likely want to do a practice run... Result: we had a ton of fun making homemade fondant and playing with the fun food dye! NOTE: homemade fondant is very difficult to stir by hand and unless you have a KitchenAid Mixer, you'll break a handheld. But it is so worth the effort!

2 weeks before the party: I'd better think about the menu... Eh, I'm an excellent party planner, I can whip this thing up in a couple days- I really don't have time to sit down and plan a menu and take inventory of the kitchen right now.

1 week before the party: I still have no idea how many people to expect since most didn't RSVP like they should have. NOTE: if you are invited to something, make sure you RSVP even if you aren't sure you're coming or not otherwise you'll look like THAT person to the host/ess. You know, that person you have to HOUND to get a response... the person you wish you just didn't invite because getting an answer was like pulling teeth and they said they'd come and didn't show!!

2 days before the party: it is Thursday night and I receive some unsettling news regarding the guest list and proceed to scream at my husband over who he freaking invited and whether or not I even WANTED that person or people invited!! It was supposed to be about 15-20 max with our core group of friends and possibly some additional co-workers of his. I intended to have a smaller get together with our church friends the next day after service because we live in a friggin condo and don't have room for the 40, yes I said, 40 FREAKING people he invited!! And not everyone was on the guest list to come at the same time. But what does he care: he wasn't the one cleaning for it, cooking for it, hosting it, bagging up left overs, and cleaning up the mess! *Insert rolling eyes face here* I went to bed completely upset, stressed out, anxious, and didn't even sleep!

1 day before the party: It is early Friday morning and I blatantly tell my boss that it is a high anxiety day for me today because of the people I did not anticipate. She felt bad for me and tried reassuring me. I work about 12 hours a day for 3 days a week at a chiropractor's office. It was a LONG day and I swear you'd think I had the jitters the whole day if you saw me. It was awful and I probably gave myself an ulcer!

Friday night, I get out late and decided to go to the grocery store to buy all the ingredients I needed. It is 9pm and I decided Big Y has the best pizza so I'll have dinner before shopping. After enjoying a delicious slice of sausage pizza, I order the pizza for the party tomorrow and start my trek through the store. I don't get very far since I have to pee like a racehorse. I knew I should've just gone before I left work but I thought I could wait til I get home. WRONG. I'm about to pee my pants, there's stuff in the cart, I can't take it in with me, so I grab my wallet, and book it to the potty. I HATE USING PUBLIC RESTROOMS! I burst into the only open stall in the two stall restroom and look at the toilet. Ok, there isn't anything yucky in it but I'm still not putting my porcelain butt on that thing! There isn't a self to stick my wallet on so I gingerly lay it on the toilet paper roll dispenser. I yank down my skirt and undies and attempt to hover over the toilet without losing my balance OR peeing on myself. Accomplished one, not so much on the other. While I didn't fall over or pee on myself, I didn't manage to make it all in the toilet. Gross, I know. So I am being a cleanly patron by wiping up the toilet seat for the next person.As I go to get more, I must have pulled too enthusiastically because in slow motion, I see my wallet... my gorgeous Vera Bradley black, white, and green Baroque wallet slide off the toilet and dunk into the nasty piss filled toilet!!! In slow motion, I yell, "Noooooooooooooooo!!!" and lunge forward but the wallet is out of my grasp! And you hear, "Plooooooooooooooooop!" as something big and heavy fell very quickly into the pot. The old woman next to me must've thought I was giving birth to a bowling ball or something. I have no idea what to do!! My beautiful wallet is sitting in the nasty piss hole, the crapper, the john, the deuce catcher. Every vile and disgusting nickname for the toilet is running through my mind. I call my husband and he doesn't answer. So I call my friend Jason, he's the one helping me with the cake.

Me: "Jason, I called Anthony but he didn't answer and I don't know what to do. I'm ok, it's not an emergency or anything but it kinda is to me.You can laugh at me tomorrow but don't laugh at me today, ok? I don't know what to do."

I bawl my eyes out to him IN THE PUBLIC RESTROOM with the grandma in the stall next to me listening to every juicy detail and my beautiful defiled wallet still floating in the toilet amidst urine and toilet paper.

Jason is a go to person when you freak out and can't think clearly. He has made a point to think before he speaks and is very sensitive to a woman's ever present roller coaster of emotions. He calmly instructs me to get the wallet out of the toilet and get the toilet paper off it and to rinse it thoroughly. After following all his instructions, I'm still crying to him about the woes of the freaking guest list and he promised to come over early to help me and to be my buffer for the day. Thank God! Note: no ladies, he's not gay, he's straight as an arrow, good looking, well dressed, funny, financially stable, one of the smartest men I know, sensitive, and SINGLE! Too good to be true right? Well, those myths about men like that have to be based off someone, right??

While all this is happening, Grandma comes out and is washing her hands in the sink next to mine, all the while blatantly staring at me with her mouth slightly agape. IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HELP ME, THEN GET OUT!!!! That's what I was thinking. Of course, I'm still crying on the phone to Jason so I don't say any of this. Grandma leaves and in walks this young, hot, Miss Thang with her pretty strawberry blonde hair (which I'm SURE was fake!) and heels clicking. Jason asked me if I remembered to flush the toilet. I couldn't honestly remember. Maybe??? Horror struck me. Miss Thang just walked into the stall I used.... I wait... HA! I must have flushed but there must have been pee and toilet paper splatter everywhere still! TAKE THAT, Miss Thang! I really had no reason to wish an ill willed potty experience towards her but she's everything I'm not, at the moment: poised, well dressed, well put together, and well, let's face it: a young, hot thing. I got her good though... ;) *insert evil laugh here*

I dutifully put my sopping wet Vera Bradley wallet in a produce bag and finish checking out. Anthony calls me back as I'm mid-store. I tell him the whole sordid story and cry some more. Lucky for him, he doesn't respond right away. It's almost as if I can HEAR his brain thinking, "This is funny but do I laugh?? Probably not. She's crying right now and will kill me if I laugh at her drama... Ok, I'll play the comforting husband role instead and laugh at her tomorrow when she's not likely to hit me with something heavy that she purchased."
Intense stress reliever took over as the tears flowed. IN THE MIDDLE OF BIG Y... Great. I'm one of THOSE women. The ones that talk on the phone about their personal life in public and people around her can hear everything. And I'm an emotional one at that. Great. So I finish by saying I'd tell him when I'm home because Miss Thang walked passed my aisle. WHAT?! ARE YOU STALKING ME?!

I went to the bathroom so I could focus on what I was buying and stick to the budget... and I STILL went over budget. Screw this, hellooooo credit card! I was NOT about to go put anything back! Miss Thang ended up in my lane behind me a couple people, I mean, it IS after 10pm on a Friday night and they only have one lane open. Great, she probably thinks she can't get away from this nut job who bawls her eyes out in the public restroom! Of course, the cashier and rest of the people in line are looking at me weird because I have to dig a sopping wet wallet out of a produce bag and then have to PEEL the wet indistinguishable receipts off the credit card... Mortified.

And this was all preparing for the stupid party. This isn't even the story of how stressful it was preparing the day of and how I called Jason asking him to come even earlier. Oh boy.... thank God for good friends who put up with all your crap, LITERALLY! Pun fully intended.