Love is love is love is love

I cried myself to sleep on Tuesday night for many obvious reasons. I cried because we had lost the election. I cried because we are yet to celebrate having a woman for our president. I cried because a racist, misogynist, pussy grabber was elected to lead our nation. But mostly I cried because I saw tears of fear, disbelief and angst running down my daughter’s cheeks.

My heart shattered into a million pieces.

I woke up Wednesday morning trying to be hopeful, trying to find the silver lining. But I didn’t.  As I was preparing their lunch boxes, my oldest one came into the kitchen and asked me again if Trump had really won. Yes, he had. Those same tears ran down her cheeks again. And my heart, again, shattered into a million pieces.

I reassured her that everything was going to be ok. That this amazing country was going to be ok. That we were going to be ok. That SHE was going to be ok.

“How?” she asked.

I didn’t have an answer then, but just promised her we were.

Little did she know that she had already given me the answer. As I walked into my office, I found a note she had left for me the night before. It read, “Love is what I work for.”

And just like that I had my answer. LOVE.

So that night, while we ate dinner she asked me again:

“So, how are we going to be ok?”

I told them I had a plan. A good one.

 

This is how we are going to be ok:

We are going to love.

We are going to live an amazing life.

We are going to love and respect our friends, no matter where they come from, what religion they practice or what they believe in.

We are going to speak up and not remain silent. We are going to defend our shy friends against bullies. And we are going to show compassion to those bullies that are surely trying to fight their own personal battles.

We are going to celebrate holidays, birthdays, we will make up excuses to have laughter-filled family reunions as often as possible.

We are going to stuff our faces with ice cream and cake.

We are going to go on trips. Lots of them. Disney, Chicago, Detroit, LA, Miami. We’re going to travel all over the country. Because it’s an amazing one.

We are going to go to the beach, the pool,  all of the parks, summer concerts, festivals…

You will go to gymnastics, or ballet, or swimming, or whatever you want to learn this month.

We are going to try to catch Santa this year….and the Leprechaun too.

We are going to cook and eat together (your father’s food, not mine, don’t worry).

We are going to go outside, way past your bedtime to catch fireflies.

I will visit you at school during your lunch time and you can visit me at my office during mine.

We are going to visit all of the Smithsonian museums for the 100th time because it’s one of your favorite things to do.

We are going to have picnics.

We are going to laugh about silly things and cry at sad things.

We are going to build forts out of blankets and make a mess in the living room.

We are going to pray together.

We are going to grow together.

And we will BE together. Because love trumps hate and love is love is love is love.

 

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because I complain a lot! 11 things I’m grateful for

The other day I found myself complaining about how tired I was of having to carry the groceries up the stairs in my building. Then, I complained about all the toys that were blocking my way in. Then I complained about how long it took for the water to get warm while my daughter stood freezing next to me. After that, I complained about how foggy the mirror was and I couldn’t see myself clearly (No, I did not complain about that because I keep all my  mirrors spotless so I can always look at my beautiful face). And then it hit me: I complain about everything! I complain about this and I complain about that, without even realizing that I have everything I need. I have money to buy food, stairs that take me up to my heated home, water that magically appears with just the turn of the knob.

All this complaining is making me grumpier than what I usually am. So I decided then and there that every time I complain about something (because who am I kidding, I’ll probably never stop), I’m going to think about at least one thing to be grateful for, like dry shampoo for example, because no one really has time to wash their hair that often.

I ran to tell my husband all about it, but I had to run back to the bathroom and wrap my daughter up in a towel so she wouldn’t freeze. So then I ran back, but then ran back to the bathroom to turn off the running water, seriously people, let’s not waste it. I ran back one more time, but then ran back to the bathroom because my daughter kept screaming that I had wrapped her too tight, fallen on the floor and was wiggling like a worm.

When I finally got to him (sweating and out of breath because clearly I don’t work out at all) and shared with him this life changing epiphany, he looks up and says, “REALLY???” Sarcasm. He owns it.

So I have made myself this list of things to be grateful for that I will be putting up on my refrigerator door to look at every time I lose my sh*t. I was going to wait until November to post this, because you know, Thanksgiving and stuff, but why wait? I’ll just beat everyone to the punch and post this in October.

11 Things I’m Grateful For

My daughters – Not only they’re the sweetest, smartest, best smelling little girls I know (yes, I smell them and they smell like marshmallows and puffy clouds mixed together. No you may not smell them), but they are the source of my never-ending mood swings. I appreciate that because every time they make me angry, they also make me infinitely happy. They make me yell, but they also make me laugh uncontrollably.  They make me question my intelligence every time they ask a question like, “what is a mammal and what’s the difference between them and reptiles?” To what I answer “welllll…..mammals have hairs….I think….oh look, your show is on!” But they also make me smarter because I’ve never googled so much crap as I’ve done in the past 7 years.

My husband – Because I am a moody bitch that never uses the corresponding face with the corresponding emotion and some how he still loves me.

Coffee – The reason I am not currently serving time for murder.  Ok, so maybe I won’t kill you if you talk to me before the caffeine takes over my body, but I will probably attack you.  Thank you coffee for keeping alive all the people I love.

Friends –   Because my husband will never give me an honest answer when I ask him what he thinks about an outfit, or if I still look pretty with these few extra pounds. I don’t know if he’s being sweet or just plain scared. Either way, he’s no good. So that’s when your friends step in. To tell you that outfit looks hideous and that you’re better off just burning it instead of not wearing it.

Chocolate – No need to explain myself. Chocolate.

24 hour healthcare – You know that if your child is going to get sick, it’s going to be in the middle of the night. No way for them to start throwing up a storm, say, I don’t know, 10 a.m.? 2 p.m.?  Any time between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. would be great kids. Please and thank you.  Nobody wants to leave the house at 2 in the morning when it’s 25 degrees outside (oh yes, it has happened), especially your Caribbean born parents. So thank you, 24 hour urgent care places. We’re all too familiar with you and we hope not to visit you again this winter.

Ancient Persian Riders – Who are they you might ask? They are the geniuses behind high heel shoes, or so says Wikipedia, and of course I trust the Wiki people because they are highly reliable. Having an impressive height of 5-ft tall, you can usually see me wearing high heels, wedges and anything that can lift me off the floor at least one inch, because I am damn tired of having to climb over anything (and that includes people) in order to reach the adult cereal boxes at the store.

Carbs –   Even though there’s an evil hidden in all of them, they are my faithful companion during the long, cold winter days; during my grumpy days; and pretty much during any other day of the year.  Forget ice cream pints or shots of tequila. Nothing makes me feel better than a bowl of white rice (yes, I said white, calm down) or any bread, potato, or anything starchy for that matter. One time a guy broke up with me (the nerve!) and instead of drowning my sorrows in a bottle of vodka, I ate a whole pot of rice.

Razors – No one wants a grizzly bear walking around, and shaving my legs with my husband’s internationally acclaimed, super expensive, extra shiny, professional chef’s knife is a big no-no, and also gross.

‘N Sync – Greatest boy band ever. Do not discuss with me, in my mind they’re still together. Remember that time that guy broke up with me and I cried over a pot of white rice? I was listening to Bye Bye Bye because I don’t wanna be a fool for you, just another player in your game for two…

And finally, let us join our hands together and be grateful for David Beckham’s existence.

 

image via etsy.com

image via etsy.com

What are you grateful for?  If you say sour gummy worms I will love you forever.

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I am a wise one I tell you!

A few posts back I wrote about this to-do list I started the day I found out I was pregnant with my first baby. It’s basically a list of things I needed to learn before she was born and obviously still haven’t because postponing everything is how I roll.

What I didn’t tell you though, is all the things I’ve learned that have made me the Master Mother Sensei that I am today. Not really, but it sounds bad ass so just humor me.

I think I read a few pages each of all the parenting books I bought while pregnant. I stopped reading them when I figured out my obgyn was giving me the Cliff Notes version on every appointment, and frankly, I preferred to spend as much time sleeping since everyone kept drilling into my head that once you have a baby you will never ever in a million years even when they get married and leave the house sleep again. This is in fact….a fact.

I’ve somehow managed to become an expert on a few areas and I would love to spread my wisdom. Please take note, this is very important:

POOP 

Everything I know is based on usually chaotic experiences, things that just suddenly happened, followed by frantic online searches (don’t ever do that) and calls to the pediatrician, only to have her tell me it’s all perfectly normal and that I should have really read the books. Case in point, the day my daughter proudly showed me the neon green poop she had just left in the potty. One panicky Google search later, and I quickly learned that she was either slowly turning into an alien or that artificial coloring does exactly that, artificially colors your baby’s poop. Damn you Lucky Charms.  7 years later I am the poop expert in my house. One quick look and I can tell you what they had for dinner the night before. My parents are very proud.

TOYS

I’m also, of course, a toy connoisseur.  I have spent my fair share of time playing with ALL OF THEM, so I know for a fact that Ken is gay and he might be having an affair with some other Ken dude that never has his pants on. I’m surprised Barbie still dates him, she seems to be a smart girl judging from all the jobs she currently has (Vet, Hairstylist, Mom, Teacher, Park Ranger and everything in between), but she just can’t get a clue that her boyfriend has better clothes than her and is constantly hanging around another blondie with a mad six-pack. Barbie, break up with him, but still keep him around. Trust me, they throw the best parties ever and they make the best friends a girl (or anyone for that matter) could ask for.

Ken, tell Barbie the truth and then come find me, we can totally be bff’s. image via dailybest.it

Hungry Hippos are just that, 4 starving hippos that never seem to get full because this mind numbing game never ends.

Mickey and Minnie are way overrated and have been collecting dust on the top shelf.

Monster High dolls have freakishly long legs and skinny torsos and they dress like ‘women of the night’, because calling them whores would be a little mean, after all, they are teenagers.

Hello Kitty will forever be a cat, no matter who says otherwise.  I will not let you crush my childhood.

Cabbage Patch Kids are still around, and guess what? They still have the same awesome smell they did before. Don’t pretend you never smelled them.

All this vast knowledge I have on toys is obviously because I’ve purchased them all for my daughters, which brings me to my next point of expertise…finance.

FINANCE

I learned this summer that once your daughters find out there is an American Girl store in your area, you might as well just kiss your 401k good-bye and walk inside because they will stop at nothing until they get one. That means cleaning their rooms and eating Brussels sprouts.

They have also been collecting these little dolls called Mini Lalaloopsy for about 4 years now.  Each one of them comes with their own personality (some very questionable), a pet (of course) and one million accessories (why not?). They cost around $7.99 each, multiply that by 91, add to that 2 American Girl dolls plus whatever accessories and outfits they’re going to want, at least 3 yearly shopping trips to the mall because they never stop growing, plus lots and lots of grocery shopping and you have what I like to call a one way ticket to bankruptcy city.

Bye, bye my loves :(

Bye, bye my loves :(

 

Hibernation 

It usually takes me getting ready to go out with my hubby in order for either one of my daughters, if not both, to suddenly, out of the blue, get sick. Not before, when I’m still lounging around in my yoga pants. No. They wait until I have brushed my hair, put on make-up (concealer and strawberry chap stick), squeeze into my skinny jeans and break out the stilettos for them to throw up out of nowhere.

If we do manage to slip away for a quick bite or even, wait for it….a movie, we will undoubtedly get a call from grandma saying that they’re either coughing too much or have a horrible, horrible tummy ache. And of course, because I’m as paranoid as it gets and must rush to their sides every time they say “ouch”, by the time we get there, whatever “ouchy” they had magically disappears.

So now I keep the house stacked with medicine, snacks, unread magazines, movies for the young and old and loads of toys, because I’ve become quite an expert hibernator, not that I mind now that the weather is starting to suck again.

And there you have it! 4 things I’m really good at. Next time I’ll talk about child psychology or something more profound that doesn’t involve poop.

 

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