Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son
the waffle breakfast (complete with crispy bacon),
a visit to the spa
and some quality time with family and friends (especially this little guy),
my mother’s day was just perfect.
I hope yours was too!
Yesterday I had the distinct pleasure of listening to the Dalai Lama speak about compassion and positive thinking.
The Buddhist leader, wearing his traditional red and orange robes and a UC Irvine Anteaters visor cracked himself up more than once as he shared his message of peace and understanding. He explained that the problem we face with unhappiness is of our own creation, fed by too much stress, worry and frustration. He said we need a calm mind to see reality clearly.
According to the Dalai Lama, the goal of education should be to “develop sensible, compassionate leaders who are realistic and warmhearted.” He also stressed the importance of respect for all religions – and nonbelievers as well – which elicited cheers from the crowd of almost 5000 people.
When asked by a UC Irvine student how to obtain world peace, he fondly recalled his own mother being very kindhearted and said that “family has the real responsibility for making the world a better place and that we should make our homes a warm atmosphere, pay attention and provide maximum love, affection and compassion to our children”. I love this, believe it wholeheartedly and I’m going to put it on my refrigerator.
What a delightful afternoon.
I live in Orange County so I come in contact with the type of women on the television show, The Real Housewives of Orange County on almost a daily basis. It’s usually when they are perched behind the wheel of their fresh off the assembly line Mercedes Benz.
These women are wealthy beyond belief, flashy, live in excess, completely phony, constantly in search of companionship and are terrible drivers!,span>
10 reasons why I could not be a real housewife from any county:
1. I don’t believe in plastic surgery. I’ve earned the wrinkles around my eyes, thankyouverymuch. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of plastic surgery, they’re real and they’re spectacular.
2. I can’t walk in stilettos to save my life. If I could, they’d probably lead me to a horrific death down a flight of stairs.
3. I don’t know any rock stars or pro baseball players, nor do I particularly care to. Okay, well, maybe I’d like to meet Dave Matthews …swoon…
4. I’m not a fake blond with god-awful roots. With all that money, you’d think they’d be able to keep those covered up.
5. I don’t have a designer handbag for every day of the week.
6. I truly enjoy shopping at Target.
7. I fly coach and usually accompanied by a toddler on my lap. Good times.
8. My SVU is really a glorified car. And it’s a hybrid because I care about the environment not just because it’s trendy.
9. I have a farmer’s tan instead of a golden brown hue evenly covering my entire body.
10. I don’t decorate my child. Lucas has never had hair products in his hair nor does he wear designer clothes. My husband would shoot me first!
Come to think of it, these are probably all the reasons why I’ll never be friends with Gwyneth Paltrow either. At least I’m not not the only one!
Sigh.
I live in Orange County and I’m a housewife, so I hues that makes me a *real* housewife of Orange County. BUT, I’m the flip flop and yoga pants wearing, rolling around in the park with my son, play date scheduling, three days of unwashed hair-type instead of the television variety.
This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, Prompt 5.) 10 reasons why you could not be a real housewife from any county.
Jessica was kind enough to have me guest post for her last week (Visit from a Friend), so this week I am returning the favor. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.
If you don’t know Jessica there is no time like the present. She is the mother of an autistic teenager, gave birth to triplets and lost one and then had a son that is nearly Lucas’ age. Her blog, Four Plus an Angel is beautiful, heartbreaking and inspirational. I’m honored to call her my friend and her writing, her story never ceases to move me.
And so, without further adieu, here she is sharing how she and her husband came up with their son’s name.
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Since I have my fingers and toes crossed that Tonya will need to pick a baby name some day very soon I thought it would be a perfect subject for my guest post…
My husband and I do not have an easy time agreeing on baby names. Before I got pregnant I had pictured us lovingly laying at opposite ends of the couch, reading off baby names to each other as he rubbed my swollen feet, dreaming of our future child.
He likes classic, typical, ten-million-kids-have-that-name names and I like different, cute, the-only-kid-in-the-class-with-that-name names. By our fifth child the name discussions just about sent me into preterm labor.
I had all kinds of rules in my head. The name could not begin with the same letter as any of our other children. It had to have the same style and feel as the others and it could not, when put with our last name, sound several consonants off from any celebrity. He had one rule. His son or daughter could not be named after any of his previous students. My husband has been a principal for years.
We were screwed.
I used my strategy that has worked well in the past called “hold out until things get intense and then he will give in” and it worked beautifully.
There I was lying on the operating room table with my child’s future in my hands and I picked my dream name.
“Sawyer” he would be.
But here, and only here (because my husband has no idea another blog in the world exists outside my own) I will say, I might have been wrong. I LOVE my son’s name and think it fits him perfectly but there is a chance “basic Joe” may have been the way to go.
See, I don’t really enjoy unsolicited comments, especially when they are about my children and most definitely, when they stop me in my tracks while trying to grocery shop with kids climbing on my head.
For some reason saying “Sawyer” in public has drawn out more comments than pretending I can sing country music and naming him Apple.
I now know that there was a character on Lost named Sawyer. The majority of Sawyer’s devoted fans have stopped me to let me know. Also, apparently there are lots of girls/dogs/streets/last names/ex-boyfriend’s goldfish named Sawyer. And, believe it or not, Sawyer can be mispronounced as SAW-YER (think the tool + “you” with a strong southern accent).
How did this happen? I thought I picked a fool-proof name. I believe I have come to understand that there is no such thing.
Either way, I am sticking to my opinion that I love my little guy’s name and would not change my mind even if he hadn’t already been wearing it in the world for almost two years now.
I will, however, be picking his teachers by class list. I am determined to enroll him with Apple, Sunday and Blue so that his name does not provoke a single comment about the plane that crashed and left him stranded on an island for six straight years of a wildly popular television show that was watched by everyone except for his parents.
I urge you to follow Jessica on Twitter andFacebook and look for her posts, If My Kids Could Blog, because it’s hilarious, Sick Day, in which she puts this whole motherhood thing into perspective and her weekly feature, The Hot Seat.
I didn’t come undone.
I was in shock for sure and completely devastated, but I didn’t lose my shit.
I couldn’t come unglued.
I had a younger sister to consider.
I had a younger sister that had just lost her parents and if I thought I was too young at 35 to be going through this, she was definitely too young at 23.
Not to mention, there was so much to be done.
So many decisions that needed to be made right away. There were phone calls to make, e-mails to send, notes to take, questions to ask, the repatriation of their bodies, a funeral home to select, urns to chose, a service to prepare for, documents, signatures, lawyers, and then ultimately, homes to clear out and an estate to settle.
I didn’t make any of tough decisions alone. Thankfully, I had my husband and my sister by my side, but it still felt like I was the one in charge.
My emotions could wait.
I thought I could delay my grieving process just a little longer.
Of course, I was wrong, so….
Four days after the memorial service, I returned to work in search of normalcy. Almost a year later I quit my job and discovered a new normal all together.
In the year that followed my parents deaths, I exercised like a maniac, which made me feel stronger physically. It also created endorphins that made me feel better mentally. Today, I’m an endorphin junkie!
I talk about my loss with anyone that will listen in a honest and open way.
I seek help in the form of a grief counselor or a glass of wine at the end of a particularly rough day, but have never turned to antidepressants.
I work through and with my sadness.
I cry.
I go through photos and momentos and remember.
I write.
A lot.
I could have curled up in a little ball and shut the world out, I could have let this tragic loss break me, but I made a conscious decision not to. It hurt like hell, but I chose to put one foot in front of the other and just keep living.
Some may say I’ve pushed my grief aside in an effort to avoid it or that I have compartmentalized it; placing it neatly on a shelf to address at another time, but I assure you I DEAL with it every day. It’s always there.
It is definitely a long and arduous process but I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be and I am very proud of the way I have navigated through such uncharted territories, especially considering I became a mother right smack dab in the middle of it all.
This post is for The Red Dress Club’s writing assignment, RemebeRED. This week’s prompt was: Tell the story (without any trivialization or modesty) of something in your life that you are proud of.
I had a different post prepared for today, but in light of recent activity, I’m posting this instead….
On September 11, 2001, I was driving to work listening to the Mark & Brian show on the radio when I first heard about the planes hitting the Twin Towers.
I was riveted.
I was scared.
My first thought was that this had to be a cruel joke. Next, I thought of my parents and sister, who were living in Yangon, Myanmar at the time. Did they know? Were they safe? Would they be evacuated?
I didn’t know if I should turn around and go home or continue on my way to work.
I went into work because surely this was a mistake. A terrible mistake. A hoax.
It wasn’t.
No one got any work done that day. We were all huddled together and glued to computer screens and the televisions set up in the break rooms.
The footage that kept playing over and over was like something out of a movie. People plummeting to their deaths and smoke and ash and debris.
Nearly 3000 innocent lives were taken that day.
It was a very somber time in our nation’s history.
That was nearly ten years ago.
Yesterday, Osama bin Laden, the founder of al-Qaeda and the man responsible for the September 11 attacks was killed by United States Navy SEALs.
Normally, I avoid political talk like the plague.
I’m not a big fan of heated discussions, but I do have strong opinions about a women’s right to choice, teaching religion in our public schools, the right to bare arms, heath care reform and taxes.
I am proud to be an American and I am proud of our armed forces. I appreciate every freedom I have as an American citizen and I vote.
The killing of bin Laden has been weighting heavily on my mind today.
On one hand, I truly hope that anyone that suffered a loss ten years ago due to the September 11 attacks feels a bit more peace today, but on the other hand, I can’t help but pose the question: now what?
Has justice really been served?
I don’t believe the “eye for an eye” principle works.
Our nation has been at war for 10 years! Does finding and slaying bin Laden mean our troops get to come home?
Is it morally wrong to celebrate the assassination of bin Laden in such a festive and patriotic way? Should we celebrate the death of anyone?
I don’t know the answers to these questions, but they are worth asking and they are on my mind today.
The Vatican released this statement this morning and while I also like to avoid discussions about religion, it really helped me realize the confliction I am feeling about the death of bin Laden.
“Osama Bin Laden – as everyone knows – has had the gravest responsibility for spreading hatred and division among people, causing the deaths of countless people, and exploiting religion for this purpose.
Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of everyone before God and man, and hopes and pledges that every event is not an opportunity for a further growth of hatred, but of peace.”
I wish our nation and our world peace.
What do you think of Osama bin Laden’s death?
Don’t count the days, make the days count. ~ Muhammad Ali
It was another month full of many many reasons to smile:
1st – A friend that goes (comes) the distance… literally. Thanks for a lovely play date, Sally.
2nd – Lucas slept in his big boy bed for the first time!
3rd – Family visitors. No, really!
4th – Disneyland fun and a toddler that was on his most excellent behavior.
5th – A relaxing visit to the nail salon with my sister-in-law and nieces.
6th – Lucas turns 22 months… where’s the pause button?
7th – A visit with my dear friend, Suzy who I wish I saw more often.
8th – The sun was out just long enough for some outdoor play.
9th – Pizza. Funny how this favorite ends up on every one of my Project Smile lists!
10th – A nice long walk to clear my head and just breathe.
11th – Legoland – just the two of us.
12th – A couple of hours at the hair salon and a new opportunity!
13th- A sick baby means a day spent in pjs in front of the TV.
14th – Helping out a friend with her children while her husband is away on business.
15th – Mother/son lunch dates, a visit with the Easter Bunny #1 and a slew of new Spring clothes from Gymboree (for once I remembered to use my coupons!!).
16th – A long car ride with a quiet tot. Bliss!
17th – Meeting and riding Thomas the Train followed by an adults only lunch at The Ivy. Thanks, aunt Leah!
18th – Meeting Easter Bunny #2, decorating cookies, an egg hunt and a train ride.
19th – A super productive day that had nothing to do with laundry.
20th – A night out on the town.
21th – I got myself a job (of sorts)! More on this later…
22nd – Bounce house play date in our backyard, 90 minutes on the treadmill, girl’s night out and trying out a new restaurant.
23rd – A toddler-free weekend… lunch with good friends and their babies, a movie in the theater and having the house to myself.
24th – Easter blessings and chocolate yumminess.
25th – Staying in touch with friends from high school and seeing our children play together.
26th – A guest post on Four Plus an Angel that I am very proud of. Thanks, again for having me, Jessica.
27th – Catching up with my husband over margaritas on a date night.
28th – Spending some time alone with my sister.
29th – Housekeepers. Love me the smell of Pine-sol and Windex.
30th – A good old fashioned PB&J with a glass of milk. And no, this wasn’t Lucas’ lunch, it was mine!
What made you happy this month?
To see why I was smiling in March, click here and to link up and share your own month of simple pleasures, please visit Kristi of Live and Love out Loud.
I was nine years old.
Giddy with excitement over the gorgeous dress, the 25 foot train, the jewels, the beautiful cathedral, the cascading bouquet of flowers, the 3,500 guests, the pageantry, the glass carriage, the fairy tale.
A prince and a princess.
On July 29, 1981 along with an estimated 750 million other people, I sat glued to the television in an airport (probably on a layover some where returning to Karachi, Pakistan from being on summer holidays in the states) watching the royal wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana.
I’m 38 years old now and just as giddy about happily ever afters and fairy tales.
If you need me today, I will be watching Kate Middleton marry Prince William.
I’m excited, but I won’t be setting my alarm for 3 AM, thanks to TiVo!
I finally did something today that I have been putting off for months!
With my husband’s encouragement, I drove the car to a building I have passed countless times.
It’s exactly six minutes from our house.
I parked.
I took a deep breath and entered the building.
I met the director.
I asked a lot of questions. One of which, the answer made me bring home a pamphlet and schedule a tour.
The question: “Does my son need to be potty-trained to attend your pre-school?”
The answer: “No, we potty train for you.”
Music to my ears.
Lucas will be two in June and by Fall maybe a student. 🙂
I wish I could grow flowers, tomatoes, basil, weeds, cactus… anything! I have the brownest thumb on the planet (I’m assuming that’s the opposite of having a green thumb).
As long as my husband and I have lived together he has always said that he’d like plants in our home. I discourage this every chance I get because I would either water them too much, too little or forget all together.
The only plants in our house are the flowers I purchase every two weeks:
Pretty enough, but not the same, right?
I love walking around my neighborhood. I love to feel the cool breeze coming off the ocean not far away, the warm exchange of greetings with the people I pass and the sweet smell of spring, especially all the gorgeous roses in bloom!
I wish I could grow flowers like these:
There must be such satisfaction in having a beautiful vibrant rose garden.
Heck, any garden!
I need to send my husband out for a walk.
What can you grow?
This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, Prompt 4.) Photo Story: Take a walk through your neighborhood this week and share some pictures of what Spring looks like where you live.
