Monthly Archives: January 2012

I love Gabby


I have always had this thing for Gabby Reece. Years before clothing manufacturers began making bottoms for tall women, I discovered Gabby. She was still playing volleyball and I admired the fact that she was a tall female and an athlete to boot. I am not as tall as she is. I’m only 5’11” and she is 6’3″ and I love it. Growing up, there were not that many tall girls around and the boys…forget about it. Tall boys usually like short girls. Ask any tall female (and to me, anything over 5’9″ is tall in a girl) and she will confirm this. I didn’t date anyone my height or taller until I was 30. But, I digress. I went to her website   and stumbled across a blog post she’d recently written titled “Make Yourself Happy”. It really resonated with me, because that is what I am trying to do. Years of life and therapy has taught me that no one else is going to make me happy. And they’ve also taught me not to take things personally, although reading “The Four Agreements” really helped a lot with that one. That said, I still struggle with finding that balance, or rather, I struggle with being happy where I live.

I struggle and I struggle and I struggle. I want to be out in the sunshine, walking my son along the beach, having hot cocoa and choco cream pie with my friends. I look at my husband and see him struggle with allergies and realize that my dad, who has always had a cough, probably suffers from the same allergies. And I wonder, how is it better living some place that makes you sick? I miss the summers without mosquitoes and humidity and the winters that are sunny and mild. I miss sleeping through the night not having to hear any thunderstorms sans the random, occasional one that might blow in. I miss the produce. Probably more than anything, I just miss being able to live outdoors year round. Here, I have been mostly house bound because I can’t bear the cold, cold and the moist heat. Yes, this all sounds like whining. I hate that. I hate that. So, I am trying to make peace in my mind. As Gabby succinctly put it, I must make myself happy. Everyday is a new day. I will not let this defeat me. I will not succumb to a life of wallowing and whining. I will be the kind of mom my kids deserve and give them the kind of life and environment they deserve. I will own the energy that I am putting out into the universe.





I had the most magnificent prenatal massage today. I had a gift card and had been debating on when to get the massage, before or after baby. It occurred to me that it would behoove me to be as relaxed as I possibly can be for the delivery and I tend to carry tension in my back, so before baby it was. I am so glad I made that decision. I loved the ambiance of the place and how pampered they made me feel. And the robe…it was so cozy that part of me wished I could fit it into my purse. I’ve only ever had one other professional massage at place out here that shall remain nameless. It was nice at the time, but this was just a whole other experience. I had a chakra massage and, ironically, I chose the scent meant for grounding. Once I knew what it was for I just shook my head. Sometimes the universe speaks at the most interesting times. I somehow chose chakra 1, which is said to be the center where we ground and take care of ourselves. An imbalance causes one to feel tired, resistant to change and a desire to take things slower. I almost wept during the massage because all I could think about was how I’ve gotten away from doing yoga and how hard it’s been for me to accept change and to get grounded.


I’ve been working on my vision board for the last few months and this experience has just given me the incentive I need to get it completed. I’ve been making vision boards for years, ever since I took graphic design in college (before I saw it on Oprah). I have found that they are very effective. It’s not about magical thinking so much as it’s about stating an intention for one’s life. I’m going to add regular massages to it along with yoga and some other type of physical activity. I need to stop giving in to this feeling that I have of wanting to hibernate. I need to use energy to create energy. Thank you Joseph’s for giving me a gentle reminder of the many ways I can take better care of myself. 🙂





I am someone who is heavily reliant on GPS. I can barely remember life before it. Actually, that’s not true. A couple of years ago, when I moved to KY, I did not have GPS in any form or fashion. Although I had a Crackberry, it did not have GPS standard and I didn’t subscribe to it. Silly me. I am, and always have been, directionally challenged. I get lost all the time. All. The. Time. Case in point: once, years ago, when I first moved to San Diego, I was sent to the airport to pick up my mom. There were no cell phones at the time. I got very, very lost and wound up being two hours late. The aunt I was living with at the time lived only 30 minutes from the airport and, to this day, I have no idea where the hell I wound up. Fast forward to a couple of years ago when I didn’t realize that I was moving to a place where there seems to be an assumption that people already know where they are so there aren’t a lot of signs. I moved an hour away from my parents and it took me two hours of driving to realize how insanely lost I’d become. I got lost so often when I moved here that my dad bought me a GPS that Christmas.

Of course, now I have my magical IPhone with GPS (I actually have had one since the beginning of last year I think). Anyway, thank God for standard GPS that I don’t have to subscribe to. It has changed my life. Even when I started using the one my folks got for me, I would somehow convince myself that the thing was wrong, leading me to still getting lost. I no longer try to have the upper hand, though. I have been humbled by the GPS gods and I can admit that I have no idea (or very little idea) of how to get to most places around here. And now there is SIRI. Holy hell, what an invention. Today, I was almost out of gas and asked for the nearest gas station. She gave me 15. I love her. Yes, I said it. I do. I once told her she was awesome and she replied “I am?” No joke. Awesome.

guilty pleasure


I should be in bed right now, but I am squeezing out a few moments to watch one of my guilty pleasures “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills”. I’m watching Lisa’s daughter dance with her dad at her wedding and it’s just the most beautiful thing ever. It was such a beautiful event. Seriously. Sitting here on my couch at 11 something at night with teary eyes over the love and beauty… It makes my pray super hard to be able to live long enough to watch my boys grow up and get married. I want them to thrive, to find joy, to have love. I want to be able to be there for them. That’s the tricky thing about being an older parent. You fret a little about things like that a little more than if one were younger. I know all parents fret, I’m just saying. So that is my wish on this night as I prepare to get my butt in bed before midnight and I just hope to continue cherishing every moment I get. I know there will be a time that I’ll want to turn back the clock and have my babies be my little babies again so go easy Father Time, go easy.

birth preference?


So, I toured the hospital where I will be having Baby B in a few weeks. In spite of the lovely, high-tech surroundings I can’t seem to shake this concern that they are more concerned with their ability to continue with their standard, hands on methods of birthing. There have been a few too many conversations about my possibly needing their intervention via c-section or epidural. Today I learned that they call birth plans “birth preferences”. While I have always maintained that I am open whatever will be in the best interests of my health and the baby’s, I feel they should be focused on the very real possibility of things going smoothly. I’ve already had one child and that delivery went just fine. At that hospital, most of our wishes were followed and I don’t feel like my delivery was hijacked. Not so sure about what we are heading into. Time will tell. In the mean time, I intend to take my notarized birth PLAN to my next appointment and see what they have to say.

Off to bed for me.



The last few days have been nuts. We have spent the entire weekend held hostage by the guy we hired to unstick our windows. Note to the masses: always make sure house windows are in perfect working order when buying a house!!! Some of ours were painted shut and a couple were just not functioning. Since we bought our home in November/December a few years ago, it wasn’t huge on our minds whether we could open the windows or not and our home inspector did not catch all that needed to be caught. Anyway, the guy has taken the last two days getting everything straightened out and he still has to come back next weekend to finish up. As a result, we have been home all weekend. It’s almost been a blessing in disguise because I’ve had increased pressure due to the baby’s head getting into position. Looking head on at me I suppose some people think my belly isn’t that big but they are fricken blind. All I know is this big belly that’s getting bigger every day is going to soon be making its way out of my vagina. Though I’ve been through it before, I am a little nervous. I have had no time to do my meditative “tapes” for the delivery and I feel utterly unprepared. I haven’t even really had time to think about how it’s all going to go down, other than that the plan is for it to be natural again.

We missed our scheduled tour of the hospital where I’m supposed to deliver, too. With every one of us getting sick in a week, it totally slipped my mind until Friday night. I’m not comforted by the fact that only about 15% of births done there are natural. Where I had my son, 30 something % of the births were natural and the staff there was awesome and supportive and familiar with the method we were using (hypnobirthing). It’ll be interesting, that is for sure.

Gotta get to bed. I actually had another post that I started this morning, but it is long and winding and I need to finish it but I can’t wrap my head around it. I’ll make it work.

I’m back…


The last few days have been pretty knarly. Monday afternoon my son wound up throwing up and couldn’t keep anything down. I spent the evening taking him to the doctor’s, which is where the Mr. met us. They said that it was most likely the stomach flu and that we could probably catch it. Truer words were never spoken. Tuesday nite I started feeling sick, but thought it was normal pregnancy nausea. Silly me. By 3 am I knew I was a gonner. The Mr., who never takes time off from work, wound up having to stay home with us, because, while Baby J had made a nice little recovery, I was in now way, shape or form in any condition to look after him or myself. I am feeling tons better, but I have this nagging headach. I mention this because I am bummed that I just started blogging and have been felled by illness. How will I get anywhere I’m trying to go? At this rate…

Ok, no pity party. No pity party. This is just a small glitch. I will feel better. I will be inspired. My writing will improve and blossom. Before I head to bed for an early ish nite, I wanted to add one good thing that came of being sick. Just this weekend, the Mr. and I had a slight disagreement about a comment I made. He’s always going on about how stressful his job is and how hard he works, which I do not dispute.But I said that the energy expenditure of our jobs is totally different. I’m no executive, but I did work for a health system for 17 years and I have held some stressful positions, too. Being the mother of a toddler, especially while being pregnant, is a different ball of wax. Add to that, living in an environment where I haven’t made any friends yet so there is no tangible social network and you get a little craziness. It’s a lot of work. There is very little down time. No drive to work and back, alone where one might think. There are few trips to the potty alone, or time to shower (alone). My son is still nursing so that means that there are still many hours in the day when he is attached to my body one way or another. I could go on but this is exhausting me. Anyway, the Mr., had to take care of our son all day with his only breaks being nap times since he can’t nurse (though I keep telling him there are pills for that). By 6pm he was frazzled. He kept asking “How do you do this everyday?”.  It was all I could do to not laugh out loud with glee through my weakened state. It really isn’t about comparing for me as much as it’s about having a true understanding of what our day to days entail. Work is work, and this counts as some serious work, too.

Well, off to bed with me. Later…