Hello world!

A great man told me “Fairy tales start with ‘Once upon a time’ war stories start with ‘No s*** there I was…’”

Have you ever wondered, “How the f*** did I get to this point?”

Well, this is me trying to figure that out. These are my personal war stories, my victories, my defeats. These are the confessions of a recovering workaholic 30-something who survived breast cancer and who isn’t a princess anymore.

Hope you enjoy things as I try to figure out my life after breast cancer and marrying a wonderful and nerdy giant. These are my no crap moments filled with laughter & tears. As I’m fond of saying “At least we’ll have a good story!”


Lies for Procreation Sake

It’s been a busy few months in my household.  I’ve been busy growing a baby, giving birth and returning to work. It’s been a heck of an adventure and during this time (that some affectionately call the 4th trimester) I’ve come to a few realizations.

Parents lie and omit things.  I know they want you, me and everyone else to experience the same joy and lets be completely honest, the same misery. It’s not all sunshine, butterflies and rainbows, it’s poopie diapers, crying, no sleep and spit-up covering most of you if not the whole house. (My daughter literally pooped on me in the bathtub and has spit up on everything I own including my hair, down my shirt and all over the couch.)

Before I got pregnant if someone were to sit me down and tell me that my back would be hurting all the time, I’d have indigestion, morning sickness, stretch marks, that I’d have high blood pressure AND gestational diabetes and be so hormonal that I’d literally cry over random things (sorry husband that I cried over that cup of water you spilled) If I knew all of that would I have jumped onto the pregnancy wagon with such gusto? Most likely not. No one wants to be miserable for 9 months to be rewarded by extreme pain and no sleep.

The most major realization is that Parenthood is a wonderful, amazing, awe-inspiring, awful ordeal. With all the amazing bits about creating a human, and holding a little bundle of adorableness there is also a giant fear that now you have to protect this little tiny creature from everything outside of your warm, cozy womb. I do mean EVERYTHING too, from people to pollen to animals to suffocation risks and literally everything is a suffocation risk. No one tells you this part though until after you have the baby. It’s all “the joys of parenting” “its the most rewarding thing in the world” etc. Rarely anyone talks about how absolutely terrifying and hard it all really is.

I often feel like a super hero though “With great power comes great responsibility” (thanks Stan Lee) everyday I am the world to my little one, the look of love and the amount of trust fills my heart to bursting. Other days I want to sit down and cry in a corner as I fall asleep for 15 minutes before getting up to go to work.

All that being said I’d do it again in a heart beat. I adore my daughter, the 1st time she was put in my arms I was smitten (I was also punch drunk from a 52 hour labor followed by a c-section but hey we made it through) My daughter is my perfect little cuddle-bug monster. She’s 4 months old now and is sassy, opinionated and determined. She will shake her head no when she doesn’t like something and smile when she does. She talks in her baby babble way and I swear she is lecturing or telling us off. Sometimes I just say “Hey, language young lady!” and she’ll change her tone. It’s a marvelous wonderful adventure and while I can’t wait to see what  shed does as she grows up I’m also saddened that my baby is growing-up. It’s a weird feeling.

So to all the ones out there that want to be parents I can say that it is indeed the most rewarding thing and one of the most wonderful adventures out there but it’s also one of the most exhausting, terrifying and hardest things too. You’ll make it through though and it is so worth it.

To all the new parents – You got this and yes I too am exhausted and no you don’t smell like spit-up and it’s ok that you didn’t get any meals cooked and the house isn’t clean, enjoy your tiny tyrant and relax. Pretty soon you’ll be back at work missing that time (trust me) You are a gorgeous goddess and strong and your baby is indeed the cutest baby ever.

For David and Adele

Introduction: I’ve been meaning to post this for a long time, My friend David was getting married, a small piece of happiness in this world’s chaos. Their families are conventional but they are not. Best men were between David’s father, another male friend and me. This did make me laugh as I was super pregnant and I don’t think those are the traditional photos his family wants. Instead, I read a poem. I’ was trying to write something just for them. Their poem, their story so to speak. I want to give David a love poem for Adele because they deserve something special. 

So here I go, wish me luck… to true love and marriage, may it bring everyone the greatest of joys, may your patience and love last forever and may the sun be always on your face, may your happiness know no bounds and most importantly may you move at your own pace. 

An often quoted line of one of my beloved books is”To live would be an awfully big adventure” and while true I think to love and be loved is the greatest and most difficult adventure of all.

There will be times were you soar sky high and times when you fall and love is a very rare occurrence as you do both simultaneously.

A Poem for Adele from David

When the world gets to be too much and the days are long and dark, I still have you warming my heart.

Unexpected and unsure when I met you I was lost one could say, but then you opened my world in so many different ways. To find you was to find myself and grow into who I am, thank you Adele for making me into a better man.

Neither of us are perfect in any way but our imperfections make us who we are and there is nothing I would change.

I know I drive you crazy and things are not always sublime but with you my darling I can accomplish the hardest tasks in good time.






Life gets in the way of passions and it’s ok…

Please excuse my absence (if you’ve even noticed I’ve been gone) I’ve discovered that no matter how much I love to write and dance and sew that Life gets in the way of passions. Having a baby is fantastic and I’ve enjoyed it so much the everyday grind of work, baby, husband and commuting takes all my time and you know what? I am perfectly happy and content with that. Sometimes though when my thoughts get all dark and swirly and I’m punch drunk tired I miss the extra moments I had to just do nothing, just read or sew or bake for 30mins. I miss writing and venting and working through the thoughts in my head, the hurt in my soul and they stress in my body. I miss this (gestures to post)

More often than not I don’t need to vent and filter through my thoughts anymore as they are happy thoughts, light and airy, sunshiny thoughts filled with love and peace. Actually living life, one that I’ve wanted and worked so hard to have, is amazing. Realizing that Life gets in the way of my passions is disheartening but its a glorious life, small, humble, and mine, it belongs to no one else. So while Life gets in the way I’ll just need to remember to make the time for the things I’m passionate about besides my family. I will try to write more and share my thoughts a bit more.

Dear Mother – An angry letter that will never be sent.

Dear Mother,

I think we are both aware by now that I only call you “mother” when I am being either extremely formal or I am displeased. You are not Mom or Mommy or any of the fun nick-names we call you, right now to me, you are “Mother” and my dear Mother you and I need to have what many call a “Come to Jesus” moment.

This is the 2nd time within a year where you put yourself in the hospital and the 2nd time within a year where you almost died. Bringing your total to 4 times in my life where you decided you needed attention and sympathy more than your children and family. Yet, you claim that WE don’t love YOU! You pick on my older siblings especially M. You target her and say she did things that she never has. You have grown mean and angry and bitter and non of us know why. We have all asked you to see a doctor, a therapist or someone to figure out what is going on as something isn’t right.

You NEVER call us, we always call you, you NEVER check in on us, we check in on you and Father. Father is angry at us now. He thinks we are being mean and want to hurt you, he thinks we are making you sick because that is what you tell him. Father thinks by giving you your way all the time you’ll be happy and healthy and Father is allowing you to be sick. Father and you don’t understand the severity of your situation and that your own choices and him enabling you will end up with your death. Father found you in a coma next to the bed, you are lucky to be alive. You need to understand how lucky you actually were!

I am angry Mother, I am so, so, so very angry that you with how open and loving and close our family is are choosing destructive paths and being deceitful to us. You know your children have all been to therapy, you know we have friends who suffer from extreme depression and anxiety and you know your children have had their own difficult times as well. Not just depression but divorces, cancer, deaths, heartaches and we have all faced them and marched on. We obviously don’t get this trait from you, you are not pioneer stock, you are not a survivor, you are not resilient and you enjoy being the victim.

Mother your life hasn’t been difficult, your children have loved you, your husband has loved you and your own mother while she isn’t the cuddliest has always loved you. Why do you claim that you are a victim of everything when the rest of us refuse, why do you always bring up the bad and rehash the old sorrows again and again and again. WHY?!!!

A parent should not ever try to make their children feel unworthy or unloved.  You have always but yourself first making us think your illness were our faults. For once your youngest daughter is putting herself first and her own child 1st.

I want to enjoy what time we have left with you but I can’t. The last time I spent time with you I cried, I was so disappointed and stressed out that I started bawling and Father yelled at me because how dare I upset YOU although you were the reason I was bawling my eyes out. I ended up in the hospital the next day, I thought there was something wrong with me or the baby and had to be monitored for hours. You didn’t care because you were still upset with me.

My siblings and friends have been the moms and dads I’ve needed over the last 7 months. You can’t blame your anxiety or depression, this is about this isn’t about you having something wrong with you, it’s about you not wanting to be or not knowing how to be healthy. It’s about you being manipulative and abusive and how although we have all loved you and we have all made enormous sacrifices for you that you do not do the same for us. It’s about me and my siblings finally coming together and being more important to each other, us raising each other up and putting an end to the negative you have caused between us. My siblings and I are through with the issues and while we do love you and Father we are stepping back until you accept help. Actually accept help, not say you will and toss us out when we disagree with you.


Love your youngest daughter.

Cold Anger

There is an anger inside of me that is cold, calculating and calm. This is a scary anger to me, the one that will not go away with shouting or yelling or blowing up at someone. This anger threads through me and settles in my veins providing an icy slush of malice.

I rarely get this type of anger, I prefer the heat of the emotional melt-down because once the heat is gone I am normal again. I forgive again. I can move on again.

This cold anger though, it’s not leaving and for that I have to thank my mother who has finally pushed me and my siblings past the point of emotions. My mother, I’ve written about her before, I’ve vented about her need to seem perfect to the outside world, how she is loving and kind and yet extremely mentally and emotionally abusive and manipulative.

My mother, the woman who loved and raised me and tried to control my siblings and I through her illnesses, her anxiety who likes her medication too much and for the 2nd time in less than a year is in the hospital ICU and we are waiting for her to wake up.

I need her to wake up, I need her to survive and I finally take care of herself versus being sick. She is sick though but not in the way she thinks. She takes too many meds, she doesn’t take the right ones at the proper time including her insulin. She doesn’t eat properly, she hoards both possessions and animals. It’s not her anxiety she needs to worry about it’s her wish to be ill because when she is ill she can have everything her own way. When she is ill we can’t fight her and she gets all the attention she wants.

What she refuses to admit is that psychologically she is ill and while I understand this myself I am still angry.  I am angry she wont get help, angry she wont try therapy, angry she has chosen to be with the hoard of wild cats that march in and out of the house versus knowing her grandchildren or even allowing us to come over.

I am sad too. I am sad that I don’t want her to know what could be her last grandchild that is growing in me now. I am sad that she has chosen her addiction to attention, meds, hoarding etc over her family. In my cold anger though I don’t want to put my little girl through what she putt my siblings and I through. I don’t want my baby thinking my mother’s illness is her fault because she wasn’t good enough. I don’t want my child thinking the way I did growing up and suffering the same abuse. I refuse to let her treat her the same way.

I am sad, angry and icy but this is what I have to be to get through this.

Learn Your Worth!!!

This has been a phrase uttered countless times by countless people and I’ve been saying it myself to way too many people lately. When did we as humans begin to be so bullied by different groups that if there is one thing different or weird about us that we feel that we are worthless?

You are worth more than you think, you are worth respect, you are worth kindness and you are worth love!

I know it’s hard to see this during depression, I know your anxieties and fears lie to you, I know you doubt and I know you are scared but you are worth so much more than you think. I want to change this. I NEED to change this. I’ve been so lucky as with all my doubts I’ve never questioned ever if I deserved to be loved and the fact that so many people question this about themselves including my own dear friends just rips pieces of my heart out.

You are not a bad person, even if you have bad moments you, yourself, yes you reading this, are not actually bad. Bad moments, depressive episodes, anxiety filled minutes or days, those are part of being human. Look how strong you are, fighting your chemical imbalance everyday.

Live each day the best you can and if that means just getting out of bed and taking a shower than you are okay. My best isn’t your best and vice versa, we all have different levels and it doesn’t make one of us better than the other.

So please, please, please try your best to learn that you are worth so much more than you believe. Be your weird, your wonderful, your beautiful self! I’ve often told my own nephews, “Why be ordinary when you can be extraordinary, there’s enough ordinary already.”


Nightmares and Believing

My nightmares are getting worse, I know some people read and interpret dreams but these ones I don’t need someone to do that. I need peace of mind or at least a dream catcher that will catch and hold the nightmares until I am awake.

Some people will chalk my nightmares up to weird pregnancy dreams and this is fine but I know it’s because my triggers are hit almost daily. My nightmares turn my husband into my abusive ex.

I’m raw from my triggers being poked, the constant posts about rape and abuse sadden me and anger me as much as they hit my own sore spots.

I don’t want to turn a blind eye, I don’t want to let down my fellow humans and turn my head the other way. I want to be strong and fight. I try, I speak, I write and then I have nightmares.

Like so many women out there right now I am torn in what I want to do or what I can do. Talking to a friend we’ll call Momma L. I shared my fear of bringing a female child into this world, of raising her in this political climate that things just have to change. Momma L. said something, “Honey we are changing it now and your child as well as others will bring even more change, this is why we fight.”

I want to believe her so badly, I want to raise my daughter to be loving, kind, resilient and tougher than the toughest nail. I want her to change the world for the better in more efficient ways than my generation has especially as it seems that the changes sadly will not happen on the levels that they need to before my little girl is here.

I need to believe that abusive men like my ex, the pieces of scum who raped my friends, the intolerant dirt that walk among us will be less tolerated, will have karma treat them to the love they have shared with others.

Most importantly though, I need to believe that as we women fight, good men like her father who holds me through panic attacks and is worried about making sure his little girl is happy, loved and proud of him; Men who may not speak out and be as vocal as us women, but will march beside us, even carry us and raise our banners as their own when we need them to, men that love us and never, ever want us or anyone else to hurt if they can help it, men that wont rape, wont abuse and wont stomp all over us… I need to believe that those men are more common than I thought. I need to believe that my nephews are growing into those men. I need to believe that the next generation will be those men and that the women born now will not know by experience, only by stories what we went through.

So with my worst nightmares where I cry out and curl around the child in my belly as I reach out to feel that it is indeed my husband next to me, during those times I awaken, I have to believe that the future will be better and all the little girls out there wont be like I am now.