Motherhood is a funny thing.

I knew it would be life changing, difficult and rewarding, but I never thought about how much it would teach me about myself.

These kids teach me more and more about myself, life, how I filter my experiences, etc. than ANYTHING I have ever encountered.

They see me as I truly am; the good, the bad, the embarrassing and the raw. They see me for who I really am and are little reflections walking around outside of my body. They show me everything, even when I want to ignore it and hide.

They show me unconditional love and love me for me. There are not many people in our lives that truly love us for us, just as we are. This, the eyes of a child and the love they have for their mother is a gift and I am blessed to experience it everyday by not only one amazing child, but two.

This motherhood gig is hard for me at times and my insides fight with my outsides some days, but to look at my children and feel their love everyday is a gift I am so grateful to have.

I love you kids.

I see you, I am grateful to bear witness to your life and learn everything you have to teach me about myself, even when I don’t like the lesson.

To all the moms out there, learning alongside their children and striving everyday to do the very best they can, from my family to yours, Happy Mother’s Day.

P.S. A very big thank you to my darling husband too for giving me the chance to be a mom. Love you…

Sinus surgery is my new arch nemesis.

I must have been the picture of perfect health karma in a past life, because this luck I am having healing from this surgery is bullshit.

It has been one annoying battle after another. From healing too slowly, having surgery complications, developing post-traumatic surgery vertigo (yes, apparently that is a real thing), all the meds making me sick as a dog and just basically rocking my whole immune system to its core, this journey to regain my health has been, well, a giant pain in my ass.

I am prone to wallowing, getting bogged down by the negative and getting trapped in the dark and when my health is not it’s best this gets amplified by 100%. With that said, now off all my medications and recovering quite nicely from the past couple of years, I pay extra attention to emotions during sickness.

What do I do now? Easy, I eagerly look forward to my weekly therapy sessions where I get to hash out my neurosis with my beloved therapist. We all know how much I like to talk, so this is a winning situation for me.

However, last night I was able to take my healing to a whole other level. I, even with a migraine and a swollen face, made the effort to get up to San Francisco to see some friends perform in the San Francisco Listen to Your Mother show.

AMAZING.

This is exactly what I needed; a night out, my ladies, beautiful San Francisco, sunny weather, a cute dress, great food and the feeling of community I so long for during my days at home with my children.

I am blessed to call three of the speakers last night friends, Nichole, Sherri and Melissa.

* Above photo courtesy of Lizz Porter at Am I a Funny Girl

Just in time for Mother’s Day, this was exactly what I needed.

Moments like this are why I began blogging in the first place; storytelling and community. Sitting in a crowded auditorium among strangers listening to women bare their souls and experiences with motherhood. There is nothing like it and feeling like you are witnessing something bigger than yourself that bonds you to other women like you moves me to new heights.

Thank you ladies for sharing your stories, being my “band of mothers” and healing my soul last night.

Great job.

Ahhhh, the dreaded sinus surgery is finally over. It was horrific, excruciating painful and I am still healing.

Here, this picture can pretty much sum up how it was and how I felt about it.

Those that know me, know that I have been getting sick on and off almost every month it seems, for the past 3-4 years. Yes, you read that right, 3-4 years.

It has been one sinus infection after another. The drill goes as such: kids get sick, I try my best to not catch their colds, I catch their cold just as they are on the mend and I am out for the count for a week or two until I can’t take it anymore, drag myself to the doctor for antibiotics to clear up yet another sinus infection that never really goes away, just hides for a bit while I “think” I feel better, but never actually “get” better.

It’s horrible and depressing to fill foggy and have a migraine from congestion 3 weeks out of every month of your life. I knew once we moved to CA and got settled I was going to dive in head first in researching how and when I could finally get rid of this horrible problem. Well, after lots of doctors, an allergist, more CAT scans than I can count, antibiotics, steroids, nasal sprays and then finally the best ENT in CA, we finally just went in and tried to suck everything out.

I had 4 individual sinus procedures, including polyp removal, bone removal to expand my apparently tiny sinus cavities, turbinate reduction, infection drainage plus the every fabulous septoplasty to fix my very deviated septum. It took about 3 hours of work on my surgeons part and has been over two weeks for me to get back to feeling like myself. Plus, the most annoying part of all this, I get to go back in and do it all again in about 3-4 months. The infection was so horrible, he couldn’t get it all at once.

Lovely.

Fingers crossed the next time will not be nearly as bad because I won’t have to have my septum broken and set again. That by far, was THE WORST. I haven’t felt pain like that in all my life. I KID YOU NOT. This septum shit is no joke.

I was so worried about being put under for the surgery that I didn’t really focus on how much it would hurt after I woke up. I figured, “Hey, it’s 2012, I will get good drugs and just sleep it off.” Oh how I was wrong.

I won’t go into the gory details about how I had gigantic teflon coated tampons and 4 splints lodged in my nose for a week and how I was trying to claw my way out of the chair the day they took them out, I will tell you, that all I think about how it is over and I am so happy for that! Ugh.

I am also happy that while this was very painful, my mom was able to fly out for a week to take care of me, be with the kids and feed my husband. We could not have done it with out her help and I am so grateful she was able to make the trip.

Now that we live in CA we are so much farther away, that I don’t get to see my parents as much as I would like. We aren’t even on the same time zone any more, which throws off our daily coffee chats in the morning after I drop the kids off at school. So if I only get to see her while I am a crying mess with gauze shoved up my nose, so be it.

I am also thankful for my adorable kids and husband that put up with me sitting in my chair moaning for 2 weeks, being very patient and allowing me to heal. It was hard on the kids, having me sit in the chair and not move or even talk to them for almost 2 weeks. Plus, the mere sight of me, the bloody noses and my overall grim demeanor was scary to them at times.

Once I began to heal, we hit a rough patch of a couple of days where they didn’t want anything to do with me. “Go sit in your chair Mommy. We want Daddy.” Ouch.

I tried to not let it bother me or take it too personally, but I have to say, ouch. However, with every other rough patch the kids and I have hit, we slowly worked through it and we have been making time to be with each other while I try to get back to 100%.

Round 1 is over, the hardest round of all.

It was horrible, but it’s over. I just have to heal and get ready for round 2 in a couple of months. Fingers crossed we get all of the infection then and it is clear skies for this little lady!

Seriously, cross you fingers, get on your knees and pray even, I need all the good vibes I can get!

* If you are REALLY adventurous, go poke around here like I did when researching how the heck they were going to get everything out of my nose.

I have never been the kind of lady to flip when a birthday comes around. I know some of my friends hate birthdays, the passing of time and quickly change the subject when it falls on their age. I, on the other hand, have always loved birthdays, especially mine. I am a huge birthday girl and to me, the more the merrier.

I turned 33 last month and it got me thinking. Is this where I thought I would be at 33 years old?

Nope.

33 years old is when, according to my loving “life plan“, I would begin to have children or begin to think about having children. I wanted my married life, travel, dinners out, spontaneity, dinner parties, disposable income, and all things I loved about life before kids.

I wanted my career, that was just beginning when I found out I was pregnant with Brayden, a mere 8 months after we were married. Oops. 

This is not where I pictured myself at this age. 33 years old, 80 pounds heavier than I would like, staying at home with 2 jibber jabber kids, seeing my pastry dreams drift further and further away, living on a tight budget and surrounded by little people who act and look just like me.

Nope, this isn’t what I thought I would be doing at 33.

Nope, was not in the plan.

Nope, but damn it looks good on me.

 Thanks to The Bully Project for sponsoring my writing. Visit their website to join the movement and learn more.

This year, over 13 million American kids will be bullied, making it the most common form of violence young people in the U.S. experience. Bully is a beautifully cinematic, character-driven documentary—at its heart are those with the most at stake and whose stories each represent a different facet of this bullying crisis.

A couple of weeks ago I was worried about my little man and my baby girl, when they experienced their first bout with bullying. First bout with bullying at the mere age of 3 and 5 years old. This, bothered me to the core, not only because they are my babies and I do not ever want to see harm come their way, but the fact that they are so young and they are already having to learn how to deal with this.

When I was asked to participate with the promotion of the new film, Bully, I jumped at the chance, because not only do I want to see the film, I am hoping, fingers crossed, that this close and personal look at bullying and what it does to not only the individual but our communities, will finally  make a dent in the minds of our youth.

I happen to be one of the lucky ones and cannot, for the life of me remember a time when I was bullied. My life was by no means perfect, but I do not remember a time when kids were mean to me, for the sake of being mean. Most of the pressures I have felt in my life, have sadly, been put on by myself and what I “think” I had to be.

It’s hard for me to relate and understand the epidemic that seems to be on the rise with our youth of today. Bullying, cyber bullying and the hatred that children put on each other, scares me and confuses me. Life is hard enough without having to defend yourself every second of everyday from people you think are your friends.

It scares me.

It scares me to the core.

Like I told my sweet little man when he was sobbing uncontrollably the day a boy on the playground confronted him with the idea that his “Mommy and Daddy would not be picking him up because they were dead.” Some people are just mean, not matter what you do, don’t do, say or don’t say, they are mean and what to better themselves by putting you down. All you can do is surround yourself with people who love you, lift you up and know that those people will bury themselves one day by their own devices. Trust me, they always do.

I want to see this movie. I want to have my children see this movie and I hope this movie moves others to know that these bullies are not worth it and life will go on.

Cheesy? Naive?

Nah.

Hopeful and ready to help our kids empower themselves for a better tomorrow.

—–

Have you ever been bullied? Have your children ever been bullied? What do you think about this movie?

* I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective. Find showings in your area for The Bully Project and buy tickets here.

Fresh air, rain drops, laughter and smiles.

Surrounded by the natural beauty around me, my family and the absolute silence that comes with being nestled in nature, washed away the noise in my mind, the to-do’s that never seem to get checked off, the exhaustion of the previous sick days/nights home from school.

I bathed in the fresh rain and the wind in my hair.

“Mommy! We are walking in the rain!” He laughs as he runs. ”We are! Doesn’t it feel nice?” I reply, peaceful and smiling.

“See that sheep mommy? I think he likes me.” She says seriously. “I think so. I think all the animals like you.” I say, just as serious.

It’s weekends like this, when we walk away from the obligations of the day and just say “screw it, let’s get out of here”. It’s weekends like this I remember why I dove in head first to this parenting gig.

The wonder, excitement and pure joy of experiencing my children explore the world makes me happy to be a parent. Now if all that other crap that comes with the job would just fall into line, I would be a whole lot calmer all the time.

Even in the dreariest of weather, its nice to put on our boots and just go off in search of adventure.

So nice.

One of my greatest blessings in my life is my friendships.

Friendship; being a friend and having friendships, gives my life so much joy and makes me eternally happy. I make friends and have them for life, which can sometimes bring as much pain as it does joy.

In life, you move, you have kids, you work, you get busy and the ease of supporting each other as friends gets more and more difficult. I believe that friendship is like any other relationship and if left untended can fall through the cracks and get lost.

I moved last May back to California from North Carolina and left a group of friends that felt more like family than the mere word “Friend” can explain. I miss them daily, hourly sometimes and try my best to cultivate our friendships from 3,000 miles away with a 3 hour time difference. It’s not easy, it’s not cheap, but it is more than worth it. To me, if you are my friend, you will feel it everyday and even as time goes by.

I moved once before as an adult, back in 2006 from California from North Carolina. Back then I left friends behind and did my best to keep those relationships alive, but as we all know, life gets in the way and things fall through the cracks. Since moving back I have been lucky enough to pick up these relationships as if no time has passed at all.

One of those relationships in particular has been such a blessing to have back in my life. She is me in a different, somewhat cuter and much slimmer body. We are cut from the same cloth, think, laugh, worry and love the same way. When I moved to North Carolina she had her own struggles and I had mine. Time passed and we never spoke. I was curious how being reunited with her would feel.

Would we mesh the same again? Will we even like each other anymore?

She was such a huge part of my life growing up, that not exploring these questions would feel like a disservice to our time together in the past. Well, those questions have all been tossed aside because the answers are all YES.

YES, she remembers me. YES, she missed me as much as I missed her. YES, she is grateful for me, as I am for her. YES. YES. YES.

Most days, we look like blubbering idiots because we are just so happy to be with each other.

See?

Such dorks, but happy dorks. Right now she is my inspiration and support for getting this EFFING weight of me. She’s my work out buddy, my last minute play date and my inspiration for all things style.

The gym mix is finished Kris, so let’s set this world on fire.

Thanks love for all that you do and know…

“If you feel like falling down, I’ll carry you home tonight.”

This week marks an anniversary.

I’ll never get over this.

Been thinking about this week anxiously for a while now.

I’ll never be who I want to be.

It creeps into my mind when I don’t feel like getting out of bed, when my daughter giggles so sweetly it infects my soul, when my crying son is comforted by my silly faces, when my husband glances at me from across the kitchen table mimicking the exact same “whose crazy kids are these” look at the exact same time I do, when the house is quiet and I get my morning coffee all to myself, when I breathe and live my life.

I just want to stay asleep and forget.

A year ago this week I was at the lowest point in my life, walking myself into a psyche hospital as a last resort to just make it stop. Scariest decision I ever made. A year ago today, I was lost, sleepless and plagued by the voices above. Never being able to see past a few days, let alone a full year.

I am so proud of you.

Things look different a year later.

Chaotic, yes, but brighter and hopeful. I learned just how strong of a woman and mother I truly am. I also learned who my real friends are in this life. Those who stand by you when you need a steady hand, love you when you don’t love yourself and are always there to fight alongside you, not behind you with their backs turned. I feel blessed to have these people in my life and grateful that the ones who didn’t make the cut were “weeded” out.

I love you.

A year ago I struggled with depression, lived in NC, was heavily medicated and was miserable. Today I still struggle with depression, but not nearly as bad or as often, have no medications, live in sunny California and have a smile on my face and in my heart on most days. Life isn’t exactly as I would have liked it; would love to have lost that 80 pounds that hangs on me, have a part-time job, but these days I strive for peace instead of perfection.

You are worth it.

A year is just a blink of time in the grand scheme of things, but to me it is a mountain, my Everest and I have finally climbed the summit. I can finally see my life in front of me and let me tell you, its beautiful…

I’m very proud.

Friend: “You want to go to the zoo on Saturday?” 

Me: “Ugh. The zoo on a weekend? It’s going to be so busy . Plus, my kids have their first T-Ball practice, they haven’t napped all week, we are going to the Sharks game on Thursday and I was hoping to get a good nap in sometime on the weekend…”

Friend: Cutting me off and laughing… “Okay, I get it, you don’t want to go.”

Me: “What? I would love to another time, but with our schedule right now I have to pass.”

Friend: silent smile

Me: “What?”

Friend: “You used to be so up for anything and now you’re, I don’t know, so negative.”

Me: Quietly blinking. “No I’m not. We are just busy right now.”

Friend: “Okay.” Still smiling.

Me: “WHAT! I am so not negative! I am a realist and not about to pretend going to a busy zoo with four kids, two of which are exhausted, is going to be all unicorns and moonbeams. Plus, don’t yours still take daily naps and flip the fuck out if they miss them. Seriously, not negative, but realistic. Just picture it. You still want to go to this zoo?”

Friend: Still smiling. “I love you.”

Me: “I am NOT negative.” Pause. “I love you too.”

Friend: “Okay! Forget I said it. What do you want for lunch?”

Me: sticking my tongue out like a 2-year-old. “I don’t care.”

Friend: Smiling.

Me: Smiling.

This pretty much sums up my take on life and motherhood. Like I said, I tell it like it is and don’t gussy it up with rainbows and puppies. Trust me,  it’s easier this way.

You’re welcome.

quote inspiration

“Mommy? Mommy? Can I snuggle you?”  Whispers my 5-year-old son around 10 pm last week.

“Sure. Why are you up?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“Was it about spiders again?”

Me being the ever open and honest mother that I am, scared the shit out of my poor son when he came home from school one day and asked me what a black widow spider was and how big they could get. “I’m not sure. Let’s look it up.” Well, thanks to google and my uncensored quest for knowledge, he had nightmares about being bit by black widows for two nights. Oops. 

“No, not about spiders…”

Silence.

“I’M GOING TO MISS YOU WHEN YOU DIE.”  Something else about me dying was muffled into my chest, when I sat up knowing this was more serious than the week before.

“Why are you worried about me dying? You don’t have to worrying about things like that baby. Mommy isn’t going anywhere.” I tried to calm my poor boy, feeling terrible that he was holding on to such worries.

More silence.

After a couple of snuggles, more silence and lots of kisses, my sweet little boy unloaded the weight of stress he had been carrying around with him for the whole week.

Unbeknownst to me or his teachers, Brayden had been dealing with a difficult kid at school. Brett and I have heard about this boy before and come to realize that he is, for the lack of a better term, the bully of the preschool. For the longest time when we would ask how their day was at school, there would always be a story about how “so-and-so” got in trouble for kicking someone, spitting on the teachers, throwing sand, had to sit in time-out, etc. I would, to the best of my ability, try to wash over it, with, “Well, let’s not call [blank] the mean kid, because maybe he was having a hard day or was tired from not getting enough rest.” It felt uncomfortable to me and my husband to hear that all the kids were labeling this kid because of what they were witnessing him doing. I know I wouldn’t want my kids being labeled by others that may not know the whole truth.

Well, this time around, the child in question set his sights on Brayden and was giving him some trouble.

You have to understand that Brayden on a whole, is light years ahead of most children, maybe even some adults, with his ability to verbalize his emotions and needs. This, I know, is due to the hard work I have done with him over the years and for this I am truly proud. With this, he is very sensitive, not only to himself but to others needs and shows deep empathy when navigating the world around him.

He has handled this little boy before, coming home proudly telling me how [blank] pushed him down on the playground and he said to him, “Don’t do that. That is not nice. I don’t want to play with you if you push me.”, then he would walk away. I have even been given feedback by his teachers about what a great role model Brayden is for the other boys when dealing with confrontation and unkindness. Again, this makes me unbelievable proud. However, this time, the level of confrontation was something Brayden had never encounter and he did not know how to handle it.

Through much discussion and patience I found out that [blank] had been whispering things to Brayden on the playground about how “mommy won’t be picking you up today because she died…when you wake up tomorrow your mommy and daddy will be dead…I hope your mommy and daddy die…”

I mean this level of meanness at this age shocks me, but I guess it is all too common and I just figured it was something I didn’t have to worry about yet.

Hearing this broke my heart. Here was Brayden conflicted on what to do or say, because saying no and walking away was not working. Then, because he is who he is, his anxiety was taken to the next level because he would worry about me while I was gone from preschool. Looking back at the week it all made sense to me now. I thought he was just being his nosy self, but he was constantly asking me where I was going when he was at school, asking if I was going to pick him up, peaking in on my husband and I watching TV after he had gone to bed. He was stressed.

Plus, he was worried about his sister because the child in question was moved into her classroom that same week. Luckily, according to Brayden and Barrett at this point because she snuck out of bed and proceeded to unload all of the details as well, he was never mean to Barrett. Brayden knew this of course because he said he would go and check on her at every recess and ask her if anything had happened. This is a 5-year-old and a 3-year-old we are talking about! The fact that they had all this stressful information that they were sharing back and forth, worried on how to proceed, but still looking out for each other astounds me even now looking back on it. This as well makes me so proud of the two of them and the relationship they have built.

I know this post is long, but it is such a hard subject to get out quickly and shortly. That night my heart broke for my kids, but my son especially. I usually don’t externalize the growing pains my children experience, but this one stung and still does. My heart broke for him, when he looked me straight in the eye, sobbing and asked, “Why would he say that? Why would he be so mean to me when I am so nice to him?”

*sigh*

“It’s starting.” I thought to myself. The change that comes with a child, when they are exposed to the real world and realize that it isn’t as nice and shiny as we have led them to believe. I have dreaded this time.

Trying my best to not make things worse by bawling along with him, I once again said the only thing I know to say to my children, the truth.

“The truth is honey, I don’t know why. If I could tell you one thing I have learned in this lifetime, it would be that sometimes people are just mean. It’s important to know that it’s not your fault and mommy and daddy are here to help you deal with situations like this.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to do when he says things to me, so my tummy hurts when I see him.”

“I know baby, so I will help you. Just know the most important thing to remember is, it is not your fault his acts unkindly, it is not your job to make him nice and sometimes people are just mean. We concentrate on surrounding ourselves with kind people that we love and that love us back. Does that make sense?”

“Like MIMI! I love her and she love me.” Chirps Barrett while holding her brother’s hand.

“Yes, like Mimi.”

We spent the next few minutes naming all the people that we love, that make us feel good and why. I told Brayden I would talk to his teacher about it, he could be there if he wanted, and we would come up with ways for him to feel safe around the playground again.

For me however, I tucked them in late that night, with a heavier heart and little more worry for them than I did just days before.

* * *

I met with his teacher the next day, both Brayden and Barrett asked to tag along, and we all came to a peaceful conclusion that made all parties happy. The teacher and I explained to them both that sometimes the adults don’t see everything that happens on the playground, especially if it words that are hurting us and not hands. This made more sense to both of them and we left it with the teachers keeping a watchful eye on the already heavily watched child in question, but needing Brayden to not be afraid to speak up privately if something happens again in the future. Plus, we would check in later this week to see how everything is going. I am satisfied with this and already there have been changes in Brayden’s behavior. He isn’t grumpy or as quiet when I pick him up and he said that having his teacher check in with him, made him happy.

Have any of you experienced bullying this early? If yes, what ways of dealing with it did you discuss with your child?