Tag Archives: Family

Love and then love them more.

Life.

So wonderful, so unfair, the innocent die, the wicked prosper, and we cling to the last bits of hope.

There have been so many deaths in my newsfeed not just of the old but of the young. Car accidents, sickness, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, all of them unsettling. I find myself complaining of not having things, THINGS, when so many friends and acquaintances are grieving and wishing they had people, people they loved and even hated back in their lives.

Put your phone down, turn off the screen, take a break from the online world and love the ones you hold dear today. Forgive the ones that wronged you but didn’t know better. Live with the living and remember the ones you’ve lost. Laugh, cry, hope, and grieve. Remember all the amazing things and people that you have and give them all the likes and double taps in the world.

Life is uncertain but your love doesn’t have to be. I wish you all a Happy Father’s Day may you live, laugh, and love everyday like it’s your last.

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Confession: I don’t want to be a mother for Mother’s Day.

My life is – Whiny kids, a whiny fiancé, constant cleaning, zero privacy, no sleep, cartoons 24/7, in short: I am a martyr. The, a person who undergoes severe or constant suffering, definition of it.

I bet you already know what I want for Mother’s Day.

That’s right, I’ll gladly give up the flowers, mimosas, and the company of the ones that bless me with so much happiness daily… All for a little rest. Sweet, sweet, ever fleeting rest. To pee in peace would be divine. To not hear MOOOOOOMMY every five seconds would be a dream come true.

I am tired. I’m only human. I need some space. So please, please go away and have fun while I sleep and drool in the beautiful silence of solitude.

But please come back soon, I only need an hour or two. No matter how much I complain, I always miss them at the end.

Ain’t that something?

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28 days a hippie.

It’s been 28 days since I stopped wearing deodorant. No, I haven’t had anyone run away from me yet or scrunch up their nose as I walk by. All good signs, I think. I decided to stop wearing deodorant and sunblock (YIKES, I know) after reading several articles on the abundance of chemicals in our everyday products, even the organic ones!

It all started innocently enough. I was on Instagram and one of my friends posted a picture of the Think Dirty app. I was intrigued. I immediately downloaded it and started scanning like a madwoman. The app lets you scan the barcodes of products and then gives you a rating from 1-10, 10 being the dirtiest. It breaks down the ingredients for you and provides you with safer alternatives. It ruined my life.

Here I was living in a dream world. Buying all these expensive organic products thinking I was making a difference in my family’s life and well-being. But no, NO. All my fancy-shmancy products were scanning at a 7 and higher. What in the mother…? I was crushed. So, I sucked it up and wrote down changes, small attainable ones and bigger ones to work on.

I made an announcement. No more deodorant for me, no more of those awesome smelling body washes with the lab produced fragrances, no more sunblock or chemically packed anti-aging BS. My drawer full of products (actually it’s more like 3) was reduced to three items. Organic coconut oil which I’m using from deodorant to face wash, and 2 lotions from a brand called Acure Organics. One is a night lotion and the other one is a daytime lotion designed for sensitive skin that I’m using for my rosacea.

What about the sun and it’s evil cancer inducing rays? I do live in Texas after all… Simple my friends. I’m avoiding it’s peak time and when I can’t, I wear sunglasses and a hat. I try and seek shade and most of all relax and remember that the sun provides benefits also. I’m learning to enjoy it.

I’m enjoying life.

Here’s too 100 days of being a hippie. Live, love, laugh.

 

The Gospel of Mom – The Beginning

In the beginning Mom created a schedule.

The children were rowdy however and Mom needed a break, and so Mom said, “Let there be light.”

And the TV was turned on and there was light . Mom saw that the light was good and she separated some time for this most lovely of activities.

Mom called the light a break and the darkness she called wine o clock. And so there was evening, and there was morning – the first day.

An open letter to the world

I suffer from depression. I think we all do from time to time. My problem is that for some reason I also have the strong urge to jump out of a moving car sometimes or wish that a semi would hit me while driving (alone, not ever with my girls) and that I’d die instantly. This open letter to the world that you’re about to read is in no way a cry for help. I am not going to commit suicide, not because I don’t want to, but because I have something to live for, however much that may scare me.

Goodbye world. I leave you behind two young girls who I’ve hopefully not traumatized too much and that’s it. I am no one. I never accomplished anything or became anyone. I was mediocre my whole life, although at one point, I dared to dream of a different life.

The pain is too much and only gets worse every day. I feel like I’ve failed my daughters, especially my oldest. I look at her at times and see nothing but confusion in her eyes. She’s so timid and insecure although I’ve tried so hard to make her strong. So weak willed even though I’ve tried to push her to chase her young dreams, to be true to herself, to fight for what she wants, to fight for what’s right, too. 

The baby is a tiny little spit-fire, a full of love free spirit that mirrors who I was as a child, but only because I haven’t had the chance to fuck her up too much, I guess.

And my fiance? Well, he’s great, world. To him and my girls please be kind. Please show them some peace, some hope, let there be light in their life in spite of the darkness coming. Please, please, please make them not wish to understand. Let them just accept that I was flawed from birth and made into a mental case full of resentment before I even turned the ripe old age of eight.

I want to leave them with happy memories. I want them to remember me happy. I need to be happy because it’s all I can leave them behind.

If you or anyone you know is feeling suicidal please call a suicide hotline or find someone to talk to. Writing helps me relax and ease my anxiety. Suicidal feelings are so hard to deal with and can sometimes come off as selfish to other people, even to the ones we’re seeking comfort from. It’s taken me a lot of tears to realize that although my world can go from sunshine to nothing at times I have something to live for, me.

I am the most important reason of all.

I love my girls even though I feel like a shit parent at times. I love the joys and sorrows I share with my fiance. I love life even though everything points to me being a complete failure. So please find something to live for and if you’re lucky enough to never have these horrible thoughts, please try to show empathy to those of us who do. We aren’t being selfish or dramatic. We aren’t attention seekers (this is actually my first time ever admitting these thoughts) and we definitely are not weak.

Please be kind, always.

XOXO, Jess

The 7 is coming.

3 days. In just 3 short, fleeting days my baby will be 7.

I can’t stress how much time really does fly. There are moments I missed that I’ll never get back. There are memories that were never made because something got in the way. There are a thousand things I regret and wish I could do over.

My dear sweet Lola,

At 6 your hands are still tiny. Your love is still pure. You fill the house with whys, what ifs, and wonder. Your eyes and laugh still sparkle with innocence. Your dreams are big and very within reach and any wrong doings against you are simply answered with forgiveness. You are my hero and the love of my life. You’ve taught me so much and make me strive to become a better mother and person every waking day.

I love you, sweet pea.

Scarlet letter X.

I’m going to make this short and sweet.

My future mother-in-law is kind of a bitch. And, I’m only adding the kind of because sometimes my fiance glances at my blog.

But how does this woman who is 1,432 miles away manage to make my life absolutely miserable, still?

I’ve read countless of articles and books and they all say to let go. Let go. Move on. That’s all sunshine and rainbows in theory. I’d love nothing more than to forget or forgive the insults and nasty actions taken upon me by her. I would love to somehow rationalize the way she blatantly manipulates my fiance because well, I’m your mother and so you’ll deal with my nastiness and I’ll disown you for leaving me at 30 years old and starting a family.

I’ll insult you and push you off to the side when you have no job. I won’t bother asking if you or your pregnant fiance need anything because I don’t give 2 shits that you two are under a lot of stress and have only enough money to eat .99 tacos at Jack in the Box every day. Nope. I’ll keep updating my status to show people that I practically live in Beverly Hills and that anything else is beneath me. After all, I am a lady of society.

I’ll keep partying and dressing like I’m 21 and then send you pictures of me in tight, leopard dresses so you can tell me I look better than the younger girls I’m clubbing with. I’ll criticizing you and make fun of you nonstop for being with that bitch because I need my rent paid and someone to babysit your brother while I’m out attending events. I need to interrupt you and call you through the wee AM hours to get your attention. I’ll send you texts saying game’s over and anything else I can think of to upset you.

I’ll make you ditch your fiance on Christmas Eve. I won’t go visit my granddaughter who lives 10 minutes away from me because she’ll be there. I’ll start acting like I give a fuck once I know you’re working again and my birthday or any holidays are coming up. I’ll finally want to get closer to Em because she’s a pretty, personality filled toddler who feeds my ego. Yes, she looks nothing like her mom. Thank god. She’s beautiful and all things great obviously because now, I’m her grandmother.

I would love to free myself from the hatred this woman has implanted in my heart. I would love to hug her, have lunch with her, go shopping. I would be smitten with her if she accepted Lo and treated her like another granddaughter. After all, my fiance and her younger son are also from two different dads. I’m no more a whore than she is. Let’s bond over our failed relationships.

She once told my fiance that I was a disrespectful, uneducated girl for not fawning all over her. She said that she would never kiss my ass. Well future mama-in-law, the feeling is mutual. I’ll never kiss your ass, either. I’ve seen it once while you were wearing a miniskirt and bending over and it’s not very appealing. Much like your personality.

Shit, I’m supposed to be letting go.

Fuck.