Chronic Ama

Heyyy. Its Bella again.. I just wanted to check in and leave a lil message for my one and only mother. I just wanted to say how much I love her and support her. Today was a bit rough so I wanted to tell her how strong she is. I know she loses confidence in herself sometimes but I would never.You just have to keep going mommy and never forget we will always be by your side. When you fall we'll pick you right back up. I know somedays are hard for you but just keep your head up even if you have to stay in bed all day. I know you love to be out and about but sometimes its okay to not be okay. You know I hate that phrase personally. That's just my opinion though. I have so many mixed feelings about literally everything so that may explain it. But anyways yeah. Wow.. the last time I wrote one of these I was in like 6th grade. Time flies. Well not really I'm in seventh grade this year. That adds on to what I was saying.. I also wanted to thank you for all you've done during th

I've been thinking about writing this for too long. I've started putting it down in my physical journal, but it didn't feel right just yet. I still don't think it feel right. It's too surreal and fresh out of my TV screen, But it happened. We had had enough and needed to get away. I flipped through listings for cabins up on the mountain, but decided that the cold really wasn't a good idea for either of us. I texted my mom and jokingly asked if she would pay for us to go to Vegas. No, but she would watch the kids. Was it doable? Could we really make it to Vegas? I remembered years back I had booked a hotel in Vegas for my parents as a birthday gift to my mom. It was very reasonable. I did it. I found a hotel suite with a hot tub in it for a reasonable price. I picked dates during Spring Break since the kids would be out of school and mom wouldn't have to shuffle them there and back for the three days we'd be gone. Six am on St Patricks Day came

I read an article recently about "unicorn moms." No, really. Someone wrote that shit. Because some twit out there thinks I want to be compared to a horse with a horn growing out of its fucking head. OK, I'll bite the click bait because I'm curious if a mom with a subcutaneous hunk of keratin protruding form her fucking forehead is anything like the one with the giant cystic zit on her chin from all the stress in her life. Unicorn moms drink and curse and don't care of their precious little brat gets a skinned knee once in a while. Oh Em Gee! So fucking eye opening, right? Why is there such a pretentious desire to squeeze women who have popped out a little crotch demon into these ridiculous categories. Fuck it, I want to be an asshole mom. Does that make it any better? No it doesn't. Here's why. Today I rocked the fuck outta my khaki linen plazzo pants from Old Navy, clean hair for the week, and my messenger bag with a giant fucking goat head pentag

Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant morning. Me, I got to pour my coffee and look up to see the tears my daughter held back in her eyes. I got to see the pain streaked red across her face. I got to hear the heartache as she angrily told us she didn't sleep last night. Yesterday I got to hear all about the other girls that yelled at my daughter to drop the fight against her bully. I watched my daughter's shoulders slump as she said she had no choice but to yell back. I think her heart is switching the sadness to anger. My heart is breaking. I have raised both my kids to be loving and accepting of people. I'm raising mixed race kids in a technology driven world and that used to be scary to me, but we've delved in. We celebrate inclusive love in this house. Both kids know that they can grow up to love anyone. We celebrate culture with friends that have grown up differently or even in different countries. I attended a dinner in not the so distant past where the ho

As a woman, I am well aware that health is often measured by that nasty little digital number on the top of my scale. It is insanely hard to change that idea since we are inundated with that measurement at every turn. I remember my primary care doctor having me sign a document that had my height, weight, and BMI on it along with information about how I was overweight and at risk for diabetes, even though my bloodwork had always showed my blood sugar as being on the low side of the normal range. I remember when I was dealing with all the issues and symptoms that go along with having Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and having my OBGYN at the time tell me that I needed to not worry about how I'd get diabetes, I needed to worry about when because for one, it ran in my family, and for two, I had insulin resistance which usually goes hand and hand with PCOS. I remember the first time I stepped into my GI doctor's office. The older gentleman had more than a few extra pounds around his mid

Today was the perfect overcast spring day for an adventure. I'm beginning to want to explore again. I have all these ideas and a growing destination list that begins right around the corner. I better get started, so here's my take on a little afternoon adventure before the summer hear set in.  We started the day at Mercado San Agustin, mostly because we were hungry and partly because I had been craving something from Seis Kitchen. Breakfast tacos are an odd concept to me, but my mouth watered as the chorizo and sriracha hit my palate. I cleaned my plate and washed down the spicy goodness with an icy jamaica, which I hadn't had for a long time. It's my favorite, even over horchata. Jamaica is a Mexican drink, or agua fresca, made with hibiscus flowers. It's dark pink and sweet and refreshing. Full bellies called for some walking. I finally got to visit the MSA Annex, up the block from Mercado San Agustin. It's a trendy little outdoor shopping and dining

Man, I just gotta love when I feel the need to record some of my musings and then this lovely blogger program eats all my words and refuses to spit them back out.  I was reflecting on the face that I feel complete for the first time in a weeks. I feel like I can let go and just be happy and content. There are no lingering tasks at hand like sorting out looming finances or making sure the fridge is full again and we're not out of toothpaste. The kitchen is clean and dishes are put away and I'm not even worried about the upcoming lunch, snack and dinner messes. Laundry isn't piled up taller than my youngest and the cat box no longer is emitting cartoonish green essences into the air. My garden is not dead. The pool still has water. There are no overdue library books hidden in the depths of a child's sanctuary.  I have allowed myself some time to be pulled out of the mundane daily world and, in sharp contrast, put into the world I love. The one that never ceases t